Page 99 of Flirting with Trouble

“You’ve got me wide-awake.” I can barely think past the need to come, but I manage to throttle down and realize there are boats heading out of the harbor. “Someone will see us.”

“We’re too far away, and they can’t see in the sides. Don’t take your eyes off the water.”

He moves between me and the wheel and crouches down, taking my bikini bottom with him. “Wells.” My heart races as his mouth makes contact, sending a bolt of pleasure through my core. “Fuck” falls from my lips like a plea. I rock against his mouth as he licks and sucks. “More.”

He pushes his fingers inside me and takes my clit between his teeth. I cry out, struggling to keep my eyes open, white-knuckling the wheel and the throttle as a tsunami of sensations engulfs me. He stays with me through the very last pulse of my climax, making the greediest, most appreciative sounds, heightening my arousal.

As I come down from the peak, he slows his efforts and then licks me clean. He kisses my inner thighs, sending more shudders through me as he pulls up my bikini bottom, rising to his full height, and quickly assesses our proximity to the marina. He pulls me into a merciless kiss, leaving me whimpering for more as he takes over piloting the boat, and I try to remember how to walk on rubbery legs.

After he docks the boat, he’s still hard, and I’m desperate for him. I run my hand over the front of his shorts, giving his cock a squeeze. “Can I help you with something belowdecks before we go on our trekabout?”

His cock jerks against my palm, his eyes flame, and he takes my hand, practically running down the stairs. The second we’re belowdecks, his mouth is on mine, and I’m ripping open his shorts as he yanks off my bikini bottom. He lifts me into his arms, and there’s no slowing us down. He plows into me, and I hold nothing back, clinging to his shoulders as I ride his cock. There’s no finesse, no sweet words or sensual caresses, just primal passion and desperation. Every thrust of his hips sends an explosion of sparks searing through me. My back hits the wall, and we use it for leverage as we pound out a frantic pace.

“Fuck me harder,” I pant out. “Come with me.”

A rough and heady growl tears from his lungs as our mouths crash together and his entire body turns to one hard muscle as he gives me what I crave. I try to keep up with his feverish pace, try to continue kissing him, but turbulent waves of titillating sensations slam into me time and time again, like a war between heat and ice. He squeezes my ass hard with both hands, sending pain and pleasure crashing over me. My head falls back as his name flies from my lips and my name roars from his. My inner muscles grip his cock so tight with every thrust, new sensations thunder through me. I sink my teeth into his shoulder, earning the most sinful, gruff sound I’ve ever heard, sending me reeling again.

When we finally collapse against each other, our hearts raging, he runs a hand through my hair and grabs a fistful, tugging my head. His eyes blaze into mine, and he says, “What the fuck was that?”

I look at his shoulder and see my teeth broke the skin. “Ohmygod. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I bit you so hard.”

A wicked grin curves his lips. “I fucking loved it.” He takes me in a fierce, possessive kiss and then murmurs a demand. “Tell me you’re mine.”

My heart swells. There’s no denying the twinge of guilt that comes with it, but it doesn’t swamp me as I say, “I’m yours,” and I know that’s because the woman I’m giving Wells, the woman I’ve become, isn’t the same woman I gave Harvey.

“Mine,” he whispers, like he’s been given a gift.

Or maybe I’m projecting, because that’s how I feel about him.

He kisses me tenderly, and this time when he draws back, he looks amused. “So much for the restraints.”

We both laugh.

“You’re not getting out of that.” I give him a quick kiss. “Care to join me in a shower before we go into town?”

His answer comes in the form of another ferocious kiss as he carries me down the hall.

Chaffee is bustling with tourists, so different from New York. People smile as we walk past and hold doors for us as we check out the cute shops along the marina. The friendly vibe is as alluring as the sweet man who pulls me close and kisses me every chance he gets. Kissing Wells is bordering on an obsession.

One I have no interest in quelling.

We make our way around the corner, and the town comes into view. It’s absolutely breathtaking with cobblestone streets and a lush, hilly landscape dotted with colorful cottages and cedar-sided homes. There is a town square that reminds me of some of the European areas my family visited as a child. The enormous cobblestone courtyard is surrounded by three-story shops and art galleries that look more like townhomes with gorgeous wrought-iron balconies. Large planters overflowing with colorful blooms and vibrant leafy plants are scattered around the square. People are meandering through the square with dogs on leashes and sitting at iron tables and benches, while children run around playing. A statue of a man and a dog stands sentinel in a large fountain on one side of the courtyard, where people are tossing in coins, and a few children peer over the edge, their fingers dangling in the water.

We spend all afternoon checking out the shops, chatting and holding hands, admiring art and clothing and whimsical, eclectic items. We buy a tiny metal mermaid that has a blue tail with a white C on it for our memory box.

Our memory box. I love that.

Not for the first time since Wells and I got together, I realize just how much living I’ve missed out on the last few years. But I know in my heart it wouldn’t have been the same without him.

Several people stop to talk to Wells, and he introduces me as his girlfriend. I get butterflies every time he says that, which is silly for a woman my age, but I kind of love that, too. He’s personable and kind to all of them, and as we walk away, he always takes a minute to tell me how he knows them, which is mainly through the restaurant, island events, or family and friends.

We find a gorgeous light blue floral dress for the wedding. It has delicate shoulder straps, a ruched neckline, and a side slit that Wells swears makes him want to tear it right off. He buys a matching light blue tie, and when I joke that we’re not going to the prom, he says, It’s our prom. As cheesy as that is, I can’t help but swoon. If that’s not enough to steal the last bits of my heart, he surprises the heck out of me when he buys a guitar.

“You’re going to teach me to play, remember?” he says as we leave the shop.

“I thought you were kidding about that.”

“Then you thought wrong.” He pulls me into a kiss. “Besides, I want to show off my talented girlfriend at the bonfire tonight.”