Page 47 of Promise Not To Fall

The kiss deepens as he gathers me up, drawing me into his chest. My legs fall to the sides and squeeze him tighter, rubbing against his hardness. Shivers shoot through my entire body at the contact, and I shake like I’m cold. He gives me a free-falling feeling.

“You’re addicted, aren’t you?” he asks, his lips at my ear, biting and sucking.

I moan, and he grunts at the contact, his hand sweeping around my waist, grinding me into him once again. “I am.” I kiss him again, slow and deep. “Are you?”

As the jet ski rocks in gentle movements of the water, his hands untie my bikini strings. Fisting my bottoms in his hand at my hip, he lifts me, and his other hand fumbles between us. His eyes find mine, shades of blue revealing a sweet sadness. “I’m obsessed,” he murmurs, the warm glow from the waters dancing against his skin as sunlight reflects off each ripple. “I’m fucking obsessed.”

We have sex on the jet ski, for the second time today, out in this exotic paradise. Jake doesn’t take the time to pull his shorts down. Instead, he gets them off enough that he can merely slide in, and that he does.

My body curves around his, my arms wrapping around his shoulders. He moves me up and down on his cock, the way he wants, panting against my shoulder. “Fuck, City Girl….” He moans when I begin to work my hips faster, chasing my own need. My hips press to his salty skin, my eyes on the shades of blue over his shoulder, mirroring the ones in his eyes.

I could get used to this. I am getting used to this.

When we get back to the marina where Jake keeps his jet ski, he turns to me. “Have you ever been helmet diving?”

“Helmet diving?” My cheeks heat, embarrassed I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Is that like something sexual?” I ask, applying more sunblock to my arms and face. It’s like I’m trying to bathe myself in it.

As I look at my pink skin, and then Jake’s, I’m totally jealous. I look pasty compared to him. He isn’t, like, Hispanic dark, or even African American. He’s justreallytanned, and combined with his black hair and blue eyes… damn. He’s just so freaking pretty.

Jake shakes his head, like he can’t believe he has to explain this to me, but there’s a smirk on his lips. He gestures to a large boat docked next to his jet ski. “Helmet diving is where they strap these helmets to your head, oxygen pumps in so you can breathe, and then they take you diving under the ocean.”

Slipping my bottle of sunscreen back in my bag I’d tied to the dock when we left, I smile down at him as he climbs up the ladder. “Sounds amazing.”

Jake takes me helmet diving, and it really is amazing. They take you out on this boat and then strap a helmet on your head that resembles one from a spacesuit, and it’s super freaking heavy. It’s like one of those bobblehead dolls, but with a fifty-pound weight on your head.

Jake takes a picture of me and says he wants it as his wallpaper on his phone. It’s one of me flipping him off wearing my Jetson-like headgear.

After you’re suited up, you step down a ladder to the ocean floor, and they guide you along. Walking along the ocean floor, I gain a new appreciation for the underwater world and how delicate the ocean is. I come face-to-face with animals I ordinarily would never see—I’m actually holding them in my hands. I even hold a pet grouper I want to take home with me. It’s like I’m Ariel in the Little Mermaid. If only I was as graceful as her and could sing, both of which doesn’t apply to me. Even under water I have a hard time keeping my balance, but if you’ve ever worn one of those helmets, you’d understand completely.

Pablo, the dive instructor, helps me pet a shark, even when I tell him I don’t want to. The only reason I do is because Jake calls me a pussy for not doing it, and the way the word “pussy” rolls off his tongue, I’d do anything for him. And as it turns out, Jake is right, they don’t bite me, though I still hold out belief, if given the day, they still might eat me.

As we’re getting out, I’m a little off balance. Walking on the ocean floor made me dizzy.

Jake notices when I’m struggling to get up the ladder. “Do you need some help?”

“I got this,” I tell him, completely convinced I do in fact have this.

I don’t. Not even a little. I slip off the second-to-last step and nail Jake right in the face with my foot.

I glance over my shoulder at him. “Whoops. Sorry about that.”

Jake says nothing and falls back into the water dramatically. Rolling my eyes, I get on the boat and gush over the experience with Pablo.

After a few minutes, Jake’s back on the boat glaring at me, and Pablo informs us it’s time to go, and I take my seat next to Jake.

“Wanna grab some dinner after this?” I ask, beaming with pride I tried something new today.

Jake doesn’t answer. I look over at him and burst out laughing at the bruise forming on his cheek. “What the hell happened to your eye?”

I’m given a look that screams,are you fucking kidding me?His jaw tightens and deep lines in his forehead present themselves. “You hit me with your foot when you slipped on the ladder.”

I laugh. “Sorry about that.” Gently, I try to reach out and touch it, only to have him slap my hand way. “It’s really swelling up. Maybe you should ice it.”

He reaches for a towel hung over the side of the boat and wipes water from his face, but says nothing. Like I’ve pissed him off.

“I said I was sorry.”

He grunts, then barks out, “Uh-huh.”

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