Page 2 of Paradise (Alphas Forever 4)

Ryan

Fuck, Brandon’s little sister is hot. No, not just hot. She’s on fire. I mean, I’m a sucker for a blonde with a bubble butt, so it doesn’t help that the first thing I saw was her sweet, delectably round ass jutting up into the air. But when I wrapped my hand around her ankle, I also couldn’t help but notice that her skin felt like hot silk under my fingers. It took all my self-control not to slide my palm up her legs and underneath that little romper-looking thing she has on. And those big doll-like eyes?

Talk about lust at first sight.

But…shit. I can’t get the hots for Brandon’s little sis. For starters, I owe him big time. When I started up my charter service, I’d hoped to do luxury day cruises for the rich folks who crowd Key West’s beaches in the winter. But aside from a few fishing charters, it’s ended up that most of my business consists of running biologists and oceanographers around the reefs and shoals. And Brandon is responsible for bringing me the bulk of my clients. He was the first to use my charter for a specimen collecting dive, and told all his scientist buddies about it afterward.

On top of that, Brandon is also a good friend. We’ve spent more time than I care to admit chasing tourist tail around Key West. And more than once, we’ve brought dates—okay, I use that term loosely—back to the boat.

So I can’t fuck his little sister. Especially not his much-younger-than-me little sister. He’s talked enough about her for me to know that’s he’s super protective of her, that he’s been something of a father figure when their own dad split. He’d feed me to the sharks if I messed with her.

Guess I’m just gonna have to ignore her—and my twitching cock.

I head for the pilothouse, not because I need to steer—the boat’s on autopilot—but to hide my quickly hardening cock. I lean against the control console and push at the front of my shorts.

But then I hear some rustling from behind. And a voice, Gemma’s sweet voice, say, “Um, excuse me?”

“What?” I say gruffly, not turning around. I don’t want her to see how she’s affecting me. It’s not that I want to be an asshole to her, but it seems like I’m going to have to be one if I can’t keep my dick under control.

“Is there somewhere I can change?” Her voice is small and a little trembly and I feel a little stab of guilt for making her scared of me. Probably for the best, though. Maybe it will keep her away from me.

“Yep,” I say. Without looking her way, I wave to a set of stairs leading down to the cabin. “Down there. Just don’t touch anything.” I have a sunset cruise charter and I won’t have enough time after I drop off Gemma and Brandon to reset.

Gemma doesn’t say anything in response, but I can feel her staring at the back of my head. Damn, I can feel how much she wants to tell me off. Finally, I hear her making her way down the steps into the cabin and I take a deep breath before heading out onto the deck.

By the time we reach the reef, Gemma still hasn’t emerged from below deck, so I help Brandon into his dive gear and watch as he tumbles over the side into the glittering emerald water below. He sets his surface marker buoy, taps his dive watch, gives me a thumbs up, and disappears into the surf.

I’m watching the bright orange buoy bob on the surface when I hear the telltale swish of flip-flops behind me. I turn around and see Gemma standing there. She’s changed into a bright pink bikini with big dots all over it, but she has one arm wrapped around her middle like she’s trying to hide, and her other hand is tugging self-consciously at her bikini top.

Then it hits me that Gemma has no idea how gorgeous she is. She’s trying to hide that curvy little body of hers, but she can’t, not in that ruffly scant bikini of hers. Her high tits push against the fabric, making me want to slide the fabric to the side and take a palm full of the flesh. Her hips are round and dimpled and practically begging for a few loving little smacks. And the belly she’s so desperately trying to cover up looks so soft that I wonder what it would be like to nestle my head there and feel her run her fingers over my scalp.

“I know,” she says quietly, even though I haven’t said anything. “I look silly. I should toss on a t-shirt or something.”

Oh, fuck. I’ve been staring at her for way too long.

She looks down at herself. “I never wear bikinis, but I thought…I’m somewhere new…” Her voice trails off and she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You shouldn’t,” I say.

“I shouldn’t what?” Gemma asks.

You shouldn’t make me want to bend you over the side of the boat and fuck you while your brother dives twenty meters underneath us.

“You shouldn’t put on a shirt,” I finally say. “You look fine. It’s Key West. Ninety-five percent of the population wears nothing but swimsuits year-round.”

“Really?” Her face brightens and she smiles at me. She practically obliterates me with that smile. I suddenly have this utterly ridiculous notion that I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make Gemma Cohen smile for me every day.

I clear my throat and look away. “You do need sunscreen, though. I keep some on hand if you don’t have any.”

“Thanks, but I brought some,” she says. “Jeez, it is steamy out here, though. Is it always this hot?” She moves past me and leans over the boat rail. “Can I swim? Oh my gosh.” She looks up and her eyes are big and shining. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I can see all the way to the bottom!” She peers over the edge again. “Look at the fish! They’re so colorful. It looks like a garden down there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Her face is so sweet and open when looks back at me. Oh, goddamn it, I want so badly to pull her bikini bottoms down and fuck her senseless until she comes.

“No swimming today,” I say. “Brandon needs to take samples and video, and if there’s another person in the water…well, it does something to the habitat, I guess.” I move until I’m casting a shadow across Gemma. “And I was serious about that sunscreen. Get some on before you blister.”

“Fine.” She turns and grabs her bag. “Since I can’t swim, maybe you could just squirt me down?”

What the hell did she just say to me? “Excuse me?”

Gemma uncaps a bottle of sunscreen, dumps a healthy dollop in her hand, and starts to rub it on her belly. I’m jealous of the sunscreen.

“Your hose?” she says with a laugh.

“My…hose?” I don’t know if it’s the heat or the smell of coconuts and Gemma’s sun-warmed skin tickling my nose, but suddenly I can’t think straight.

With an exasperated huff, Gemma points to the water hose I use to spray down the deck. “Just grab your big hose, point it at me, and squirt.”

At first, I think she’s flirting with me. But I quickly realize she’s not. This girl is just really that sweet. So sweet she doesn’t even realize what she’s said to me.

I wonder how painful it’s going to be when Brandon feeds me to the sharks.

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