Don't Walk Away (DreamMakers #3)

His cock was still hanging out of his pants as he accelerated through the intersection, but Emma took pity on him and zipped him up with a chuckle, looking mighty pleased with herself. As she should be, because holy fucking shit, the woman had just rocked his world. She hadn’t been too adventurous when they were younger, but this past week, she’d had no inhibitions, no qualms to try anything he suggested, no matter how dirty it was. If anything, her sexual enthusiasm rivaled his own.

That realization gave him all sorts of ideas. Ideas that made his cock twitch, in spite of its recent happy dance.

“So. Where are we going for lunch?” Emma slipped off her shoes and put her feet on the dashboard. Her tone bordered on gloating, and her justifiable cockiness only made Dean more intent to find a way to return the favor and light up her day. And soon, like now—or sometime in the next three minutes.

Then her stomach growled loud enough they both laughed, and Dean modified his agenda slightly. Food first, then fucking. It was a good plan and he knew exactly how to implement both parts.

After one quick pit stop he brought her to the harbor where the DreamMakers’ yacht was anchored. Emma oohed and ahhed in admiration as he guided her on board Starlight Lady, then laid out a blanket on the deck for their impromptu picnic.

The breeze off the ocean was cool but not cold enough they needed to be bundled up. Gorgeous sunshine lit the sky and the air was filled with the sound of gulls and rigging clicking against masts. The boats on either side of their yacht lay vacant, the owners busy at day jobs or however else they spent their afternoons.

They ate and joked and enjoyed their time together. Even as he relished her company, Dean couldn’t peel his eyes off her bare legs stretching toward him. She’d tossed off her shoes before she’d sat down, and he’d never realized he had a foot fetish before. Or maybe it was just her feet. One small adjustment and he could be caressing her. Picking up her foot and nibbling on her toes. Kissing her insole until she squirmed. Sliding his hand up her shin and thigh then easing under the edge of her skirt…

It was killing him to let her finish her meal.

The sigh of satisfaction that escaped Emma thirty minutes later made the wait worthwhile. She crumpled the wrapper off her second In-N-Out burger and tossed it at the empty bag between them, wiping her mouth daintily with a napkin. “That was fabulous. You’re a far better cook than me.”

He laughed. “Hey, I can barbeque with the best of them.”

“Of course you can. Burning things at the stake has been hardwired into male genetics.”

“So has ordering at a drive-through,” he admitted. “In-N-Out for lunch is a classic menu item for men. Or Five Guys, but there isn’t one nearby.”

Emma leaned her head back and took a deep breath, her face lifted to the sun. “Does it make me sound immature to admit anytime I hear someone say ‘I had Five Guys for lunch’ I want to giggle? Talk about a dirty lunch hour. God, forget doing anything all afternoon—I’d need a nap after that much action.”

Normally Dean would have laughed in response, but a bolt of intense jealousy shot through him with surprising speed at the thought of anyone else touching her. He’d had his share of ménages and always considered them nothing more than fun sexual adventures.

Sharing Emma, though? No fucking way.

“You get to have one guy for lunch, and trust me, I’m all you need.”

Emma blinked in surprise as she straightened again and focused on his face. “Dean?”

Yeah, he’d snapped at her with all the grace of a possessive asshole jerk. He couldn’t help it. She was his and no way would anyone else be putting that haze of desire on her face while he was around.

He tugged the to-go cup from her fingers and placed it aside, ignoring her question. “Full?”

“Mostly.” A smile broke free as he stalked closer. “Why are you looking all pirate-y all of a sudden?”

“Pirate-y, I like that. It’s almost as good as being called a scoundrel.” He didn’t stop until he’d crowded her to the deck. Emma stared at him with bright and shining eyes from her position flat on her back.

“Ready to be ravished?” he growled.

She opened her mouth to reply and he stole her words. He pressed their lips together as he lowered his body over hers and pinned her in place. His fully loaded and ready-to-roll cock lay thick and heavy against the zipper of his jeans, and he nudged her thighs apart with his knees and settled farther between her thighs. The heat of her sex lined up against his shaft and he broke off the kiss, fighting for control.

One move. One move was all it would take to have her panties gone. He could ditch his jeans and slip into her in mere seconds, making them both scream in pleasure.

Too fast. He wanted this to last more than the thirty seconds he’d managed earlier in the day. So he rolled off her and brought her to her feet, pulling her with him to the center of the deck.

“I really like the idea of being a pirate,” he warned.