Page 68 of Silver-Tongued Devil
She woke once in the night, and so did he. He made love to her again, soft and slow, and she let herself drift with it. And if she got some tears in her eyes at the gentleness of his hands, the tenderness of his kisses, the sweet words he whispered in her ear, telling her she was beautiful? That was all right. It was dark.
When she woke again, he wasn’t there, and the boat was moving, the big engines rumbling soft and deep. She could have lain there and slept the whole way back. That noise was so soothing, and it was so dark and peaceful in the cabin. But she got up instead. It was Saturday morning, and she had work to do.
Breakfast with Blake first, which was fine. But after that, work. She couldn’t paint his house this weekend, not with him there, and anyway, she was due to start a new glass piece. A poppy, all vibrant orangey-red petals and black center, bursting with color and life. Still sexy, but cheerfully sexy, if that was a thing. Sexy fun, like jumping off the rocks with Blake.
And if being with him made her want to laze the day away instead? That was why she wasn’t going to do it, even if he wanted to. Bad habits. Dangerous patterns.
Self-discipline. It was a thing.
So she sat up and looked around, and found that her dress and thong were neatly folded on the narrow top of the teak storage unit along one wall, but there was something else there as well. A red Portland Devils T-shirt and a pair of his swim trunks. Navy blue.
She had to laugh. He’d read her mind. She wouldn’t be glamorous, but that was nothing new. She put them on, pulled her hair back into a rough braid, and thought,How do you like me now?
When she went up the ladder to the flying bridge, Blake was in his captain’s chair, dressed in his T-shirt and slacks from the night before, his feet propped up on a ledge, his ankles crossed, with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a coffee mug.
“Well, good morning, baby,” he said. Dark morning stubble, white teeth, satisfied smile. He set down the mug, reached an arm out, and tugged her to him by the edge of her T-shirt, then pulled her into his lap. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a slow, sweet kiss that got her tingling all the way to her toes.
“You’re going to crash the boat,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Nah. We’re idling, see? I pushed the button. I’m talented that way.”
Oh. He was right. He went on, “You casting aspersions on my boat handling? You cut me to the bone, darlin’. That’s my manhood right there. Might as well tell me I’m not big enough where it counts, or say I slide to avoid the tackle. Them’s fightin’ words.” He had a sneaky hand up under the T-shirt, and when his hand settled over her breast, he sighed. “I’m just going to put in my vote here for the no-bra deal all the time, by the way. No bra, no underwear—that’d make my life a whole lot more interesting.”
“Did I mention you talk a lot?” she said, and he laughed. “And if I should decide to dress solely for your pleasure, I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t count on it. That wouldn’t be too comfortable with overalls.” It wasn’t easy to be severe when you were leaning back against a man’s shoulder with your shirt pulled all the way up and his hand on your breast, but she did her best. “Oh.” She sucked in a breath as he got bolder. “That feels good.”
“Mm.” He kissed her again, tasting hot and dark, like coffee and Blake. “Maybe I should drop that anchor again and take you below,” he murmured in her ear. “I can wait for my breakfast. Or I can start it with you.”
“I should get home soon,” she said, her resolve weakening by the moment. “Get to… um… work. I’m way behind. Can anybody… ah…” She couldn’t help a moan as he lifted her with one arm, and his mouth went to her breast. “See us?”
He didn’t answer. He was busy. She managed to open her eyes enough to look around. They were almost at the resort, near the swimming beach. And there was somebody walking along the shore near the building. A ways away, but still, he was there. She said, “Blake. Stop.”
He sat up right away. “What?”
She tugged her shirt down and hissed, “Somebody’s there.”
He glanced toward the shore. “Security, that’s all. We’re ramping up the patrols with less than two weeks to go till the opening. But unless he’s got binoculars, he’s not thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world and he isn’t. He’s seeing my boat in the water. That’s it.”
She squirmed off his lap, and he let her go. If she didn’t change their direction, Blake was perfectly capable of persuading her to waste her entire day. He was a convincing man. She said, “I tell you what. You take me out to dinner again tonight,afterI put in my workday, and I’ll haveyoufor dessert. I think I’ve got a debt to pay, and I’ll bet you’re just delicious. Consider that an IOU.” She put her lips up to his ear and whispered, “And I won’t stop until you’re done. All the way, baby,” then danced back out of reach and said, “Right now, though, I need to cool off.”
He wanted to tease her, work her up? Well, two could play that game. She didn’t wait for his answer, just ran lightly down the ladder from the flying bridge and then down to the mezzanine, climbed onto the edge, and leaped far out into the water.
As always, the cold water shocked even in June, a tingling, jolting wake-up call, and she laughed out loud as she surfaced. That had been awesome. Blake’s T-shirt ballooned out around her, but who cared? He’d turned the boat, and the look on his face made her laugh some more. She treaded water and called up to him, “I’m going to trespass again. I’ll meet you at the marina.” And then she swam for the floating logs.
It wasn’t even a hundred yards. Not nearly far enough to qualify as exercise, but it felt good all the same.
She was still smiling when she dove and swam all the way to the bottom beneath the barrier, just for the heck of it.
At first, she didn’t understand what had happened. She was swimming, and then she wasn’t moving. Something was brushing against her face, one of her arms.Water weed,she thought, suppressing the flash of instinctive panic at the age-old threat of an unseen presence in the water. Her monkey brain screamedShark,her logical brain answeredLake,and she moved her arm to brush the weed away.
Except that she couldn’t. She wasn’t going forward, either. Something had her. Something wasgrabbingher, and she couldn’t see what it was. It was dark under here, ten feet beneath the surface. Deep green water, and a filmy something at the edge of her vision.
The thoughts processed in seconds that felt so much longer, like time had slowed.
Focus. Calm. Figure it out.She forced herself to stop kicking forward, which was only getting her more stuck, and felt around her head and arm with her free hand. Fine filaments tried to cut at her, and there were so many of them.
Some kind of web. A web that was torn, because her head was through, and one arm to the shoulder. The other hand was free, behind whatever it was.
Pull out your arm and swim backwards.She was still holding her breath. Of course she was. But it was getting harder, the panic starting to rise, trying to get loose and racket around her brain. Because there was nothing to push off of. Every time she tried, her hand went through a hole, and she had to tug it out. She tried to grab whatever was holding her arm, but something was caught. Stuck.
