Wrecked

Whatever it is, I like it. A lot.

Just like last night we strip each other naked and take time learning each other’s bodies. She runs her lips across my chest, her tongue up my neck, and I’m helpless in her hands. Tasting every part of her I discover there isn’t a spot on her that isn’t sweet. She practically purrs when I lap at her breasts and every time she reaches for me I have to hold her off to keep up the unhurried pace.

When I finally get the condom out I haven’t the willpower to watch her put it on without exploding. The desire to be inside her is too strong.

She lies still, her legs open to me in invitation, and I bite my lip as I fall into the cradle of her thighs. “You’re holding back.”

Fuck yeah, I am. “I want to take my time, but . . . damn, freckles, it’s killin’ me.”

Her nails scrape up my sides, over my shoulders, and through my hair hard enough it’s sure to leave marks. The sting is all the motivation I need. I flex my hips, sliding deep inside, and swallow her sigh of approval.

“Better, baby?”

She arches her back taking me deeper. “So much better. Now . . . move.”

I take her on the bed, against the wall, on the floor, and finally when I can’t take another second of the torture we both finish together in a heaving lump of sticky skin, panting breath, and pounding pulses.

“Did I hurt you?”

She’s crushed beneath me on the floor, her arms and legs wrapped around me and holding me inside her. “Not at all.”

I chuckle into her throat and breathe in her scent, which has changed to something more pungent and sexual. “You want to let me go so I don’t crush you?”

“No.” She convulses around me. “I kinda like you where you are.”

“Mmm . . .” I thrust into her a few more times, nice and slow, easing myself away so I can trash this condom and get this woman who deserves to be made love to in a bed with fancy fucking sheets and goosedown rather than on the floor of an old boat. “Let me at least get you into the bed.”

She sighs. “Fine.”

I push up and lift her limp body up and into the bed, covering her with a thin sheet. “Be right back.”

I move quickly, eager to get back to her, but when I do I find her sitting up and curled around something in her hand.

“Hey.” I cross to the other side of the bed and with her hair falling forward I can’t make out her expression. “What’s . . .” I stare at the object in her hand.

An earring.

Sydney’s earring.

Fuck!

“Celia . . .”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t snooping. I got up to get my panties and stepped on it—”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I drop down on the bed next to her feeling like the hugest asshole in the world.

Her big green eyes come to mine and I force myself to look right at them even though the hurt I see there rips through my chest.

“There’s this girl—”

“Oh God.” She drops her chin to hide her face behind her hair.

“Please, just hear me out. I haven’t touched her or talked to her since you and I started hanging out.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.” I hook her chin and tilt her face up. “I . . .” Fuck! This is uncomfortable as hell, but I don’t want to lose her. “I’ve been single for a very long time and, shit, you’re the first girl in as far as I can remember that I’ve wanted to spend time with. Not just a quick roll, but actually hang out with.” The words keep pouring out before I can stop them. “You said it yourself, I’m not a pillar of virtue, but I can say that since our first kiss, I’ve never even thought of other women, let alone touched one because all I can think of is you.”

She licks her lips and then hands me the earring. The piece of metal practically burns my palm so I chuck it across the room toward the kitchen.

“It’s cool, Aden. I get it.” She flashes a shaky smile.

“You know how it is, right? I mean, you didn’t marry any of the men I saw you in those photos with, so you understand the concept of casual sex.”

She seems to deflate from my words, but nods. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Come here.” I pull her to my chest and she falls into my arms. “I promise, freckles, you’re the only woman in my life now.”

She lays her hand over my stomach and holds me tighter as I run my fingers through her hair.

“You believe me, right?” I sound so fucking pathetic, but I need to know she does.

“I do.” She yawns and as much as it pains me to let her sleep thinking she might still feel a little unsure about whatever this is between us, I kiss her head and whisper, “Go to sleep.”

As soon as her breathing evens out I slip from under her and grab the earring and toss it into the bay still feeling like a dick. I lock up the boat and then sit on the edge of the bed to watch her sleep for a few minutes until I feel like a creepy dickhead and curl in behind her. She grumbles a little and I kiss her head and run my fingers along the soft planes of her belly. “Shh . . . it’s okay.”

A sense of purpose settles inside me. Something that tells me I’m right where I need to be and doing exactly what I was called to do. It’s a feeling I’ve only gotten before when overseas on deployment. And I’ve certainly never felt it simply holding a woman.

God, Celia has my head all fucked up.

I close my eyes and begin to drift, thinking only of her as sleep pulls me under.

When I wake up, she’s gone.





FOURTEEN


SAWYER

I’ve been sitting on Celia’s porch watching the sun slowly light the Pacific Ocean, trying to decide if it’s too early to call.

After finding that earring at Aden’s and having Celia’s sexual history thrown back in my face, I took the coward’s way out and pretended to fall asleep. It was childish, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Aden sleeping with a woman right where we had just made love. Sometime in the early morning I finally dozed off only to wake to sounds of fishing boats prepping for a day at sea. I hated sneaking out of Aden’s bed but I was desperate to talk to my sister.

Two cups of coffee later, I check my phone. It’s nearly seven in the morning, and there’s a good chance she might be awake.

I hit her number, fully expecting another ridiculous voice message.

“Sawyer, hey . . .”

She sounds sleepy, and usually I’d feel like shit for waking her up, but I need to talk to her.

“How do you do it?” The words come out in a rush of breath as I’d been holding them in all morning.

There’s the sound of rustling in the background and she clears her throat. “If you’re asking how I pull off being awesome it’s just a gift—”

“Cece,” I whisper, just to ensure no one overhears. “I’m serious.”

“I can see that. You’re always serious, Sawyer, that’s your problem. What happened?”

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