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“You can.”

He dragged his fingers out of me, crouched in front of me, and ducked under my skirts. His tongue left me wrecked as he sucked me down. The messy sounds made me sway and cry out. I didn’t even realize I was tugging at my own nipples until I opened my eyes to see him watching me.

His face wet.

His eyes wild.

He spun us around and sat down, dragging me closer. He gingerly lifted my left thigh onto his shoulder so I could take most of the weight on my good leg, and I was the one holding onto the railing above.

He jerked the bikini top aside and scraped his fingers down my skin, rolling my nipple as I arched and screamed.

The hum of the boat and his mouth left me sagging and somehow still wanting more.

He suddenly sat back and gently set my leg down before he scooped me up and strode out to the open air. The sun and the sea spray on my over sensitized body left me off balance.

“Locke.”

He raced the stairs to the upper deck where there was a wide space. He laid me back and fell on me again.

My fingers gripped his head. “Locke.”

He bit along my inner thigh as he splayed me wide on the right so he could take me again. He dipped those thick, long fingers into me and fucked me slow as he licked along my deliciously abused clit.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted him. To feel him on me, the weight of him, stretching me even though I knew I couldn’t in this position.

I arched off the wide memory foam mat, every muscle locked as I came so hard the world went white.

When I came back around, he was laying against my right thigh, both of us breathing like we’d run a minute mile.

“You’re going to kill me,” I gasped.

“Same,” he said against my skin at the top of my inner thigh. Then he rolled off me and both of us stared up at the canopy over us. He turned his head to look at me and my chest ached at the smile that transformed his face.

The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the clear green, and his ravaged mouth actually pulling wide in a smile.

Don’t you fall in love with him.

Don’t.

Do.

It.

Then he tucked a lock of hair away from my face and I was pretty sure it was too damn late.

CHAPTER 23

LOCKE

I was whistlingas I made a quick scramble with some of the leftover veggies from our stir fry.

The sun was high in the sky, and the forecast was clear for days. We’d made it to Maine in way less time than I originally thought. Instead of burning gas, I switched us to wind power since the headwinds were cooperating.

Cilla was currently in a half-sleepy post-orgasm bliss on the top deck. I put on a sunny summer playlist, piping it out to the speakers I’d made sure were all over the boat.

I couldn’t think about the wrongness of touching her. She wasn’t technically a client. It was stupid to get involved with her, but at the same time I needed to grasp onto the moment for once.

Milligan was quiet in my brain. Whether that was because of a lack of psychosis on my end, or he agreed with me I wasn’t sure.