Page 94 of Charlie

"Where's Lach?" I ask, standing on my tiptoes to look over his shoulder.

"Nice to see you too, Sassenach," he grumbles, tugging at his beard.

"Sorry, I’m a little on edge," I apologize, gathering my things.

"Lach asked me to pick you up; he wasn’t quite finished with the preparations."

"Preparations?"

He only smirks and gestures toward the door. "Your chariot awaits, milady." Once in the driveway, I look between Jack and his motorcycle dubiously. "Would you rather we borrow Isla's car?" he asks. "I thought it would be fun to take the bike, but I want you to be comfortable.

"This will be fine. I supposed I'll have to get used to riding on it eventually."

"I hope so," he says softly, stowing my bag away. I grimace as I pull the helmet over my perfectly coiffed hair, but my annoyance evaporates as I climb on and wrap my arms around him.

We pull to a stop in the marina parking lot several minutes later. Jack gives me a hand as I swing my leg over the bike, then unsnaps my helmet, gently sliding it off. He hands me my bag, and I stand there looking at him awkwardly – wondering how you say goodbye in a situation like this – when he cradles my face in his hands and presses a tender kiss to my lips.

"Have fun, mo chridhe; I’ll see you on Thursday." He climbs back on the bike as I shoulder my bag, my heart in my throat.

The butterflies in my stomach melt into a molten ball of need as I look toward the marina and see Lach wiping down the side of the boat, shirtless, his skin glowing golden in the morning sun. As I walk toward him, my fingers itch to trace the freckles on his back like the dot-to-dot puzzles I loved as a child.

I open my mouth to say his name, but nothing comes out. I clear my throat and try again.

"Lach," I say, my voice low and husky as I slide my hand around his waist and press myself to his sun-warmed skin. He turns in my arms, caresses my face, and pulls me in for a kiss that goes from zero to sixty in half a second. He pushes his hand into the hair at the base of my skull and pulls, trailing kisses over my jaw and neck, then he captures my lips again, his hands framing my face.

"I was beginning to think this day would never come," he breathes when we finally manage to pull away from each other.

"I like this side of you," I murmur, the tenderness in his eyes doing something funny to my insides.

"I like every side of you," he says, one side of his mouth quirking up. "I like this side," he runs his hands over my waist. "And this side," he slides his hands over my ass. "And I really, really like this side," he groans, sliding his hands to my front and dragging them up my stomach and over my breasts. I moan and lean into his touch, watching his pupils dilate as he flicks his thumbs back and forth over my nipples.

"Is this all you brought?" he asks, taking my bag from me.

"I didn’t think I would need very much; I kinda thought I’d be naked most of the time."

"Good fucking point, Carebear. Ready to go?"

I nod and he grabs his shirt from the railing, slipping it on before swinging me into his arms and walking up the gangway.

"First choice of the day: cave or ruins?"

I take a second to think before responding. "Cave," I say, confident in my choice. I love ruins, but many of them look the same after a while. The only cave I’ve been to is the one on the beach with Jack, so that option is an easy winner.

Lach motions up to one of the windows, and a flurry of activity takes over the deck. The anchor is hauled up, the ropes are removed, the horn blows, and then we're off, motoring toward deeper water. I’m a little nervous at first. The thought of being out at sea gives me anxiety, but Lach's easy manner and knowledge of the vessel ease my mind. He leads me to the rounded couch at the back of the ship and sits me down, bringing a bottle of champagne and two glasses from inside the cabin. He pops the cork and gives a generous pour, handing me one and raising his in the air.

"To a night of complete debauchery," he toasts. I grin and raise my glass, then take a sip and close my eyes as the bubbles coast over my tongue. The champagne is crisp with a hint of sweetness, perfect for a day like today.

"Debauchery?" I tease, raising my eyebrow.

"God, I hope so," he chuckles, reaching out and dragging his thumb over my bottom lip. I give into the temptation and swirl my tongue around the tip of his finger, sucking it into my mouth.

"I can’t wait to have those pretty lips wrapped around my cock again," he breathes, sliding the saliva on his thumb around my lips and then pulling me to my feet, crushing his mouth to mine. His thick length presses against my stomach, my whole world narrowing to the desperate need to have him inside me.

I startle as the yacht rolls under us, and he steadies me.

"You okay?" He asks, concerned.

"I'll be fine. Just need to find my sea legs."

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