Page 85 of Crossing the Line
He could think of nothing he wanted more in the moment.
“Sure,” he said closing his laptop before she could try for a peek at his screen.
“Do me a favor before we go up?” she asked. She held up a bottle of sunscreen. “Can you get my back? I don’t want to ask the crew to do it.”
And he would have no problems tossing the lucky guy overboard. “Sure,” he said again.
She tossed him the bottle and brushed past him. She hinged forward just a bit against the mattress, and he went from half-mast to rock hard when he caught the rear view.
The bottoms, which had been tiny from the front, were miniscule from behind. The rounded curve of her perfect ass cheeks demanded attention under the high cut bikini.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” he muttered.
Waverly pulled her ponytail over her shoulder. “Problem there, Saint?”
Maybe if he closed his eyes, the white hot lust that had electrified his body would start to dissipate. He opened the bottle, squeezed, and with eyes closed rubbed his palms over her shoulders and down her back.
The lotion smelled exotic, like oils and spices from the Middle East. Trust the Sinners to not have a spray bottle of Coppertone lying around.
She gave a little sigh of appreciation that had his cock flexing. “Please don’t make that noise again,” he pleaded through clenched teeth.
His hands skimmed over her low back and around the curves of her hips.
He blew out a breath. Eyes closed wasn’t helping. If anything, it was making it more sensual. He opened his eyes, saw that she was bent over, elbows on the mattress now. It was an unfortunately seductive position.
“Did you get…lower?” he asked.
“Hmm?” she murmured lazily.
“Your ass. Did you put sunscreen on your ass cheeks?”
“Jeez. Such violence when you talk about my ass. And no, but I can—”
He shut her up by shoving her all the way forward. Another squirt of lotion, and he was coasting his hands over the rounded cheeks. His thumbs brushed together between her thighs and this time her sigh was a gasp. Xavier held his breath, willed himself to think about procedural reports, and skimmed the tips of his fingers under the edge of her bikini bottom. He didn’t want her burning if it rode up, though God knew where it could ride up to.
“There,” he said, backing up like she was a toddler with a piñata bat. “Please do not ask any member of the crew to ever do that. I won’t survive it, and I’ll make sure they don’t either.”
“Gee, Xavier. I thought you never begged.” she teased.
His palm landed soundly on her right ass cheek with a satisfying smack. She yelped, and he grinned.
“Don’t play games with me, Angel. I always win.” He smirked, enjoying the view of his handprint on that lovely ass as he followed her upstairs.
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The crew arranged a breakfast of French toast, berries, and yogurt on the covered main deck. The espresso chased away the cobwebs of travel and jet lag, and Xavier soon got his second wind. He opened up his laptop at the table while Waverly moved out into the sun with a novel for now and a script to be reading when her parents returned.
She sprawled face down on a soft deck bed, and Xavier did his best to concentrate on the screen and not her ass. He took half an hour and cleaned up some personal business—investments, bills, birthdays—and when Waverly rolled over to sun her front, he switched back to Invictus business.
Her front was just as distracting as her back.
Leonidas had to ask him twice if he’d like another espresso before it registered. And judging by the sly smirk on Waverly’s face, she’d heard the exchange and guessed the cause.
The advance team had sent over yet another final, final tour schedule for London. The studio had squeezed in a one-on-one with one of the biggest newspapers in the UK. He was still waiting on a floor plan for the hotel from their head of security. He reviewed the profile of the driver they’d be using while in London and approved.
He glanced up again, and it looked to him like Waverly’s top had gotten even smaller.
Xavier gave up. It would still be hours before Micah or Roz or any of the team was ready to connect. He was on a yacht on the Aegean Sea with Waverly Sinner. Twenty years from now, would he look back and be glad he spent so much time on paperwork instead of enjoying some non-life-threatening time with Waverly? He could afford to take an hour or two and just relax.
