Page 48 of Wild for You
Jack grips my hand before running his fingers up the length of my arm. “You don’t have to tell me if—”
“No, I want you to know.” I suck in a breath and slowly let it out, just like Maggie taught me all those years ago in college.
“We’d only been on the cruise ship for a couple of days. It was the vacation of my dreams—my tenth birthday trip—and I was dying to see dolphins. It was all I wanted. My parents had promised me they’d take me on one of those side excursions, but they just kept putting it off, finding other adults to mingle with and talk business. My dad was notorious for making everything a networking opportunity.
“I didn’t like being ignored—if you can imagine—and decided to take matters into my own hands. One afternoon while my parents were away at brunch, I snuck off alone. I was leaning over the ship's side, trying to spot a dolphin, and tumbled over the side into the freezing ocean water.
“The water was so cold. It knocked the breath from my lungs, and I tried to scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. The waves just kept crashing over my head each time I tried to take a breath. I’d never had trouble swimming in a pool before, but somehow, when the ocean fought against me, pushing and pulling me in every direction, my body just froze. I didn’t know what to do.”
I pause, taking a moment. “I thought I was going to die.”
“I don’t know how much time passed before someone saw me. Luckily, I was wearing a white tennis uniform that day, and I was easy to spot. Otherwise, I don’t know if I’d have had the same fortune. One of the crew members jumped in and pulled me to safety. They had to give me CPR for ten minutes before I finally responded. I was airlifted to the nearest hospital with hypothermia and a respiratory infection, and I haven’t been swimming since.”
“Oh my God, Gwen, I’m so sorry.” Jack pulls me into him, squeezing me tighter, and I can feel him trying to take the pain away from me, but I continue.
“The worst part was that my parents were so mad at me for ruining their brunch. Apparently, my dad was just about to make a pitch to some high-rolling investor when the crew interrupted them, telling them what happened.
“He didn’t speak to me for weeks, and my mother stood beside his decision, and my regular spankings suddenly got more intense. He took out his anger on me, and I had the bruises to prove it. They eventually sent me off to boarding school, and I welcomed the feeling of safety I got from the built-in distance. I could finally let myself breathe, not having to walk around on eggshells around them constantly. After that, they doubled down on their expectations of me, always moving the mark no matter how hard I worked to make up for my childish mistake.”
I wipe the tears coating my cheeks with the back of my hand and see Jack’s broken heart shining through his eyes. “So when I graduated high school and told them I wanted to work in PR, to go out on my own rather than going to law school or med school like they’d always dreamed I would, they cut me off. Not just financially. My parents told me I was a waste of time, energy, and, most importantly, money. They said they were done with me since I was so willing to throw away all the opportunities they worked so hard to give me.”
I hold out my arms. “So I’ve spent every opportunity since trying to prove them wrong. Trying to prove to them and myself that I could be successful and the very best on my own terms.”
I sit up, covering my chest, feeling vulnerable in every sense of the word. “After that, I swore I’d never depend on anyone for anything ever again. That I’d make my way in this world on my own, without the help of anyone or anything.”
Jack’s stunned eyes stare back at me, and he doesn’t hide the tears he shed during my story. “Gwenneth Peirson,” he pulls my chin up to meet my eyes, “you are the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” His fingers graze down my cheeks to my neck, where he traces the delicate skin of my collar bones. “I’m sorry I pushed you to swim.” He sighs, pursing his lips in frustration. “Fuck, if you’d have told me sooner, I wouldn’t have taken my eyes off of you, not for one minute.”
“It’s not your job to take care of me, Jack. You didn’t know, and you sure as hell couldn’t have guessed. I’m a big girl, remember?” I try to cheer him up because the last thing I want to do is dampen the mood with my little sob story. I climb into his lap, so we're face to face, and I wrap my legs around his waist, planting a gentle kiss on his swollen lips. The taste of my sex in his mouth sends a swirl of desire through my body, and I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue to meet his with feverish need.
“I have a Mirena,” I say in a raspy whisper, and in an instant, Jack’s rock-hard body flips me onto my knees. I have no idea how my childhood sob story could be such an aphrodisiac, but our bodies move on their own as if this is the natural response to end this conversation.
“Jack, I need you to fuck me.” I plead. “I need you to make me forget—”
“I know what you need, sweetheart,” he growls in my ear, and my goosebumps are back, coating every inch of my flesh. “I know exactly what you need, and I promise after I’m through with you, this memory will overshadow everything you told me tonight.” He slides his fingers through my hair and gives me a not-so-gentle tug, telling me who’s in charge, and I melt against him like a hot knife through butter.
A feral moan escapes my lips, and his rough hand presses against my low back as I feel a warm silky wetness brush against my sex and the all too familiar scent of coconut fills my lungs.
I can’t help but smile at the most unpredictably hot gesture. “Are you using coconut for lube?” My voice trails up in surprise, and I’m delighted when the soft head of his cock brushes against my entrance.
Jack doesn’t answer me. Instead, he slides his large cock in with such haste that the sensual sting of my body stretching to accommodate his sudden presence sends a jolt of heat to my core. Then he slaps my ass hard enough to take my breath away.
And if I never have sex again, I’ll die knowing that it doesn’t get any better than this.
A few more slaps, and I’m panting from the adrenaline. He knows just how to mold me like a piece of clay in his very capable hands. He thrusts into me deep, and my knees sting from our combined weight against the rough sand, but I don’t mind at all. The smell of sex, coconuts, and sea salt overwhelms my senses as he grips my hips as if he’s trying to keep himself from floating away.
“Oh God, yes.” I moan, and he gives me another smack followed by a gentle rub. I’m all mixed up with pain and pleasure, a sensory overload that I never knew I needed until now, and Jack Manning is the only one to deliver.
“Fuck, Gwen, you’re so perfect. Do you know that?” His breathing sends chills down my spine. “I think your body was made for me, handpicked by God himself,” he growls before flipping me over so I can ride him.
The rush of being topless on the beach, having each and every one of my senses amplified to the max, gives me a high I’ve never known. Our sex is dirty and rough. It’s tender in its own special way, and all I know is that I’ll never be the same again. It’s like Jack’s climbed inside me and altered my DNA, taking all the bad memories and replacing them with something so close tolove …No, that can’t be right. Can it?
Our bodies sway and move together, and Jack can’t take his hands off me as I ride him. I can tell he’s barely holding it together when I bend down, laying my body as close to his as I can as I grind.
“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he growls.
“Me, too.” I whimper.
He lifts my chin with that cocky as sin smirk and says, “Smile.” And that’s when I see the camera with that blinking red light strapped to a palm tree pointed straight at us.
