Beyond Me(13)
Author: Jennifer Probst

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s huge.” I expected something cozy with just us. Surely this came with a crew.

“I thought bigger was better.”

I pursed my lips at his little quip, but couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out, and quickly turned into my awful pig snort. I decided to give it back to him a bit. “Big is nice, but you have to know how to use it.”

His eyes darkened. “Oh, I know how to use it.”

A delicious shiver raced down my spine. I shrugged. “So you say. We’ll see.”

He laughed and I grinned. I was terrible at flirting, but with James, it felt natural. Like teasing him was part of the fun and the sexual spark. “Brat.” He pulled playfully at my ponytail and my scalp tingled. “Got everything you need?”

I showed him my gaily striped beach bag with towel, lotion, bottled water, phone, and a change of clothes. “Where are we going?”

He grabbed the bag and guided me toward the catamaran. “I’ll show you some sights first, head down the Gulf. I staked out a pretty place for a swim and a picnic. We’ll let the day guide us.”

The sheer freedom of those words made me giddy. No plans, no timetable, no responsibilities. How long had it been since I was able to let go? Too long. Emotion choked the back of my throat. “Sounds perfect.”

He studied my face, then smiled as if he liked what he saw. “Good. Welcome aboard.”

The marina was buzzing with activity and packed with an array of schooners, catamarans, and smaller powerboats. Men yelled back and forth to each other, seagulls screeched in outrage or happiness, and lines formed by booths for private charters and excursions. The sun was blinding and hot, scorching delicate skin and dousing the choppy water with glittering sparkles. James gave me a quick tour, and I was amazed at the amount of space on the boat. A shower, huge cabin, and fully stocked bar was down below. Long teak benches were set up to lay out, and the brilliant white canvas was shocking against the stinging blue of sky.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked.

“Just me. No worries, I’ve been sailing since I was ten, and I know boats and the water in Key West well. Been coming here a long time. Do you trust me?”

The words meant more than boating, and I knew it. I also knew my answer. “Yes.”

His face softened. “Then I won’t let you down,” he said lightly. “Let me get started and we’ll pull out in a few.”

I settled down to watch from behind the safety of my sunglasses, sipping from a bottle of water, and admired the ripple of muscles as he moved back and forth and we drifted away from the marina. As the crowds shrank and the noise dimmed, I was taken to another dimension where only nature ruled. I’d only been on a boat once before, a ferry cruise for sightseeing with my dad. The event, as usual, had ended in disaster. I’d begged him to just drink soda, but he snuck to the bar a few times for his beer, got drunk, and fell down the spiral stairs. He only avoided serious injury because he was so inebriated he literally bounced. The humiliation from the public attention was brutal. I’d never gone on another boat since.

But I didn’t want to think about the past right now.

I pushed away the memory and concentrated on today.

Chapter Eight

I WONDERED what she was thinking about.

Her face darkened, as if a shadow of a bad memory drifted past, and then she seemed to calm again. I wondered about her secrets. She seemed to have everything together, so unlike me, yet something I wanted to probe simmered beneath her surface.

Which was dangerous.

I’d gone to bed last night with a hard dick and had to jerk off twice just to try and get some sleep. One lousy night in her company and she had me whipped. Of course, I knew all the rational explanations. She was different, and once I slept with her, the lure of the chase would settle me. Kind of shitty, but men were pretty much the same. We couldn’t really help it—our dicks led our brains and once satisfied, the fog cleared and we were able to think clearly again.

Still, I’d dreamed about her when I finally fell asleep. She was standing by the water, her beautiful dark hair spilling around her shoulders, looking at me with a gentle expression. As if I was important. It was a lake in my dreams—not an ocean—and the sunlight rippled over the water, and I stood before her, wanting to reach out and take her hand, wanting her to belong to me in every way possible, but I froze and didn’t know if I could complete the gesture.

Then I woke up.

I concentrated on my tasks, set our course, and began to relax. I’d loved sailing from the first moment I’d set foot on my dad’s boat. My parents taught me because it was expected, especially since they took large parties out for charity and business, but the moment I got on the water, I recognized a peace I rarely experienced. Most everything they forced me to do was for them. This was the only time I felt like sailing was just for me. Alone with my thoughts, with strict tasks to achieve direction, it was a melding of creativity and concreteness, a mix of nature and manmade instincts combined to create something close to perfection. Like my art.

I grabbed a bottle of Coke from the cooler and went to Quinn. She propped herself on the edge of the decking, looking out at the horizon, her ponytail swishing back and forth in the breeze. Her br**sts were full and high, pushing against the stretchy black tank and begging for my fingers. I remembered how they felt against my chest, perfectly curved with hard ni**les, like cherries on a sundae. The shorts barely covered her upper thighs, and my gaze kept sneaking back to the smooth skin and endless length of leg exposed. I imagined them wrapping around my hips and holding me tight. An odd protectiveness mixed with general lust and confused me. Usually things were so clear when I met a girl I intended to sleep with, but Quinn threw me out of whack from the very first meeting.

She looked up and I handed her a bottle of soda. A sweep of red streaked down her arm, and I frowned as I gently touched it. “Where’s your sunscreen? You have to be careful; you’ll burn easy out here.” That milky white skin wasn’t made for the Keys, and it was only gonna get sunnier..

Her voice came out husky, like she’d woken up. “In my bag.”

The bottle lay on top of her bag, so I scooped it up and squeezed some into my hand. I rubbed the creamy lotion into her shoulders, making sure not to press too hard, and worked the stuff into her skin until the white had disappeared. She held still, not moving, and I took my time enjoying taking care of her, and the silky smoothness under my fingers. “Turn,” I said roughly. She blinked and obeyed, and I slowly did her front, over the swell of her br**sts, her neck, and knelt down in front of her. She sucked in her breath but didn’t move, just waited for me to continue. Never breaking my gaze, I poured more lotion into my palm and lay my hands on her upper thighs where the shorts ended. She began chewing on that lush lower lip I so badly wanted to taste, but I kept moving, working down her sleek thighs, to her knees, calves, and even the top of her feet. With a final squeeze, I rose and stared into her eyes. “I’ll reapply when we’re ready to swim. Did you bring your suit?”