Eye of the Storm (7 page)

His long surgeon’s fingers entwined with hers, dragging them away. “First I want to feed you. Come here, let’s see what we can find in the galley.”

Out of the chaos the storm had wreaked on his food supply, they salvaged a bunch of grapes…a slightly battered banana. Crackers, though they were reduced to nothing but crumbs from the beating they’d taken. A wedge of cheddar cheese. Some olives. Bending, Sam salvaged a slightly bruised cucumber from the floor and set it on the sink. “I think I’d rather play with this than eat it,” he said, the twinkle in his eye reminding Marcy of the old days when they’d whiled away a lazy day in bed, feeding each other and playing with makeshift sex toys neither of them had the spare change or the balls to go and buy from the adult store around the corner from their first apartment.

Plate in hand, he led the way to the cabin—and the narrow bunk in its corner. “Feed me,” he ordered once he stretched out atop the taut, crisp sheet. “Let me feed you too.” His voice softened, and she heard a catch, as though he were as overcome by memories—emotions—as she.

Almost as though he were afraid of rejection. When Marcy sat on the edge of the bunk beside him she saw not the handsome, supremely confident physician Sam had become, but the gawky redheaded boy he’d been when he very hesitantly asked her for their first date. She recalled his shyness, his sweetness…the endearing hesitation when he’d dared to steal a kiss. And the crackling, miraculous connection she’d felt from the moment their lips had touched.

There was still something of the wonder in his face as he smiled up at her, and it touched her heart as his bold direction did her body. A connection bitter words hadn’t quite been able to sever still made her heart beat faster in his presence. His, too, if she could believe the words he’d said in the heat of passion as they lay in the eye of the storm, not certain they’d survive its wrath.

“You know, there’s something about a first love…something that’s so damn hard to let go of.” She fed him a grape, and then a sliver of cheese, wishing her voice held the ring of confidence for which she was known in court. But no. She sounded much like the pretty sophomore cheerleader who’d fallen deeply and inexplicably for the gawky nerd of the senior class. “Come on, you big lug. Do something to make me remember why I packed up your stuff and had it laid out on the front porch for you. Don’t make me fall in love with you all over again.”

He turned his head and nibbled gently at her finger. “I’ll never do that again. Baby, I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am. What will it take to get you to forgive me? Give us another chance?”

She wanted to. God how she wanted to. But…Sam had a possessive streak a mile wide. He couldn’t help but know about her years-long search for satisfaction…the string of lovers who hadn’t been able to take his place in her heart, or pay him back for the one he’d wrongly accused her of having. “For now, let’s just say that like this boat, we’re on an island. An island where reality dares not to intrude. Let go of my hand, and I’ll feed you. You’re going to need all your strength for what I have in mind.”

“I’ll drink to that. Here, you’re going to need some energy yourself.” With that, he held the peeled banana to her lips. “Eat up.”

She closed her lips around the soft, sweet fruit, licking its smooth surface the way she wanted to devour Sam’s big, throbbing cock. Funny. She’d never cared much for giving him head before, but now she could barely wait to take him in her mouth and love him. She chewed and swallowed, her gaze on his growing erection as she imagined doing with him the few acts she’d never shared with anyone else. Acts that to her seemed more personal, more intimate than taking a cock into her pussy and fucking it to a mutual release.

She met his amused gaze. “I want to suck your cock.”

“I won’t complain. Later. We’ve got hours before the tide rises. A whole night before we’ve got to head for Tampa. There’s nothing I don’t want from you…with you. I intend to have it all.”

“All right.” Just as it had seemed right last night to put her safety—her life—into his hands, now it seemed right to submit. To follow his lead, enjoy his body while he sated himself on her. “Another grape?” She caught one between her teeth, then joined their open lips.

His tongue darted out, caught the small globe and bit into it, sending sweet, tart juice into her mouth and his. Sending shards of sexual excitement to her brain, and from there throughout her body.

A day out of time, for feeling and loving and living in the present. No past and no future. Tomorrow would be time enough for recriminations. Now Marcy would let go, bask in desire, affection, and—she’d admit it to herself if not to him—love for the man Sam was today that had nothing to do with nostalgia or survival or anything but what lay buried in her heart.

Intent on arousing him fully, Marcy picked up the cucumber and sucked it into her mouth, her gaze never wavering from his smiling face.

Soft, full lips, pink and inviting, closed around the dark-green flesh of the cucumber he’d brought along for a salad. Sam’s cock swelled at the thought of her taking him that way. His pulse accelerated at the memory of her tonguing him last night as they’d lain in the eye of the storm not knowing if their next moments might be their last. The urgency was gone now, yet the passion remained. With every lazy motion of her mouth on the lucky vegetable, he grew harder.

Wanted her more. For a moment he imagined dragging her home, locking her away for no one’s eyes but his. No one’s cock but his. His heart pounded in his chest. Damn it, no one but Marcy had ever engendered such fierce possessiveness in him, such an animal urge to claim her, hold her as his own.

“You’re wasting it on that
cuke
. Come down here and suck on me. Let me feel your hot, wet mouth. Swallow my cock. Make me come if you can.”

Pouting prettily, she withdrew the cucumber and bent over him, her lips brushing his chest, each ridge of his tensed abs. Then she sucked him into her mouth the way she’d sucked him into her life from their first date. Sexily, sweetly, with warmth and infinite care, as though this was a new and wondrous experience.

His balls tightened when she tightened her lips on his shaft, took more of him. When he spread his legs she caressed them briefly, then stroked the insides of his thighs. She remembered. He liked being stroked there, and on the backs of his knees. Something no other lover had discovered.

But then with other lovers he’d been scratching an itch. With her having sex had always been making love. Still was, in spite of everything. Sam shoved away the regrets that bubbled up inside him, concentrating instead on the heat of her mouth on his cock, the soft yet incredibly arousing touch of her soft fingers, the rake of her nails. The moist heat of her breath on his belly and the brush of pale damp strands of her hair along his hipbones.

He sank his fingers in her hair, drew her off him. “I’ve got to touch you too. And when I come, I want to be buried so deep inside you, you won’t be able to push me out.”

“I won’t want you out. I love what you do to me, how you make me feel.”

Carefully, as he might have handled a precious, fragile
artifact
, he laid her back against the dark-blue coverlet and looked at her with wonder, the way he had so many times before. Marcy’s beauty awed him. Aroused him. Made him feel like twice the man he was, just because she’d once loved him. Still loved him if her declaration in the face of death were true.

Satiny tanned skin, with pale triangles that gave away the shape of the bikini she must wear beside the pool…triangles Sam now traced the way a kindergartner might follow the lines on a drawing, not straying from the lines. Just enjoying. Taking in the firm flesh, the silky skin, feeling her heartbeat accelerate under his fingertips.

Bending, he took one turgid nipple between his teeth, sucked it in. Urged on by her whimpers and breathy little moans, he laved it with his tongue. When she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him there, he nipped her gently.

“Harder,” she murmured. “I won’t break. Please.” She never wanted him to go slow, not when she was hot. As she always had from the beginning, Marcy wanted immediate gratification.

He liked to play, though, and though she’d whine and beg him to fuck her hard and fast, she always came harder and longer when he’d tortured her into a frenzy of need before giving her his cock. “Be still. If you come for me this way, I’ll reward you with a good, hard fucking.” Not stopping to explore the soft curves and flat planes of her belly, he cupped her baby-soft mound, spreading the hot, wet core of her with his fingers.

Then he remembered the cucumber. Grabbing it, he slid it along her slit, rubbing its blunt end in a circular motion around her anus. Her little whimper told him she liked it, wanted more. Good thing he’d bought the smooth,
burpless
variety at the store. Very carefully he pressed it against her until she relaxed enough to take an inch, then two.

“Feel good?”

“God yes. Sam, make love to me now.”

He slid the cucumber in another inch, imagining it was his cock invading that tight, tight hole. Every minute he got harder and hotter, watching her anus throbbing against the dark-green vegetable. Lubrication gushed from her cunt and gathered along her slit, wetting his fingers and the swollen, stretched tissue around her anus. “You want my cock here?” Did he have a condom anywhere aboard the
Lucky Lady
? He didn’t think so.

“Not there. My pussy. Oh God,
yesss
. Sam, I’m coming.” The way she whimpered and squirmed had his balls ready to burst. “Please. Don’t make me wait any longer,” she gasped.

He wouldn’t. Withdrawing the cucumber and setting it aside, he knelt between her legs and sank into her hot, wet cunt. “Like this?”

“God yes. Fuck me hard. Make me come. Damn it, make me forget there’s ever been anyone but you. Oh God, Sam. Nobody can fuck me the way you do.”

Nobody else ever had brought out the need in him to conquer, to master. Nobody else had made him bubble over like this on contact, ready to explode. His balls tightened more painfully with every plunge of his cock into her heat, each retreat against the sucking motion of her cunt.

Determined to fuck her hard enough, well enough to make her forget every other man she’d ever had sex with, he clamped down on the urge to come, to claim. Not yet! Not until he made her scream with pleasure.

Maybe if he thought of something else…shit. Trying to recite the periodic table in his head reminded him of the powerful chemistry that flowed between them. Concentrating on human anatomy got no farther than his cock, her cunt, the explosive reaction when the two merged.

Sam gritted his teeth, increased the motion. Marcy’s whimpers spurred him to go faster, fuck her harder. She liked it rough. Always had. She wanted him on the brink of meltdown, herself caught up in the storm of sex.

He’d give it to her. Hard. Fast. His cock slammed against her cervix with every punishing stroke. The bed shook as he pressed her body into the bed and she threw her cunt at him. He had to taste her, mark her as
his
.

“God
yesss
,” she hissed when he sank his teeth into the tender spot where her shoulder met her throat. “
Ohhhhh
.”

He tasted blood, soothed her damaged flesh with his tongue. “Sorry.”

“Don’t stop. Fuck me hard. Make me come. Please.”

“Whose cock’s inside you?” He had to hear his name on her lips. “Tell me, damn you.”

“You. Only you, Sam.”

“Only me. Now fuck me.” Over and over flesh met flesh, the slapping sounds of his balls connecting with her sopping pussy, his hard breathing punctuating her whimpers and moans. He couldn’t think, only fuck. “Damn it, I can’t be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you but—”

“Be rough. I like it that way. Make me forget…oh
yess
.”

At the first convulsion of her flesh around his, he bent and caught her scream in his mouth.

And let her take him the rest of the way, coming inside her in staccato bursts of searing heat as she shuddered with the force of her own orgasm.

Chapter Five

“How’d you get down to Port Charlotte?” Sam asked the next morning, once they cleared the treacherous shallows in the channel to the cove and he set a course for the Flying Fisherman Marina.

She shot him a shamefaced grin. “I flew to Fort Myers and took a cab to the ferry dock.”

So Marcy still didn’t like to drive long distances. Good. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure. Think you can scare up somebody on that radio who can get word to my office that I’m still alive?”

Just then the port engine stalled, making the
Lucky Lady
try to go into a spin. Swearing, Sam wrestled the wheel and slowed the starboard engine to a crawl. “You can call in from the marina. I’ve got to have them see what’s going on with this engine. Hopefully it will be nothing but seaweed caught up in the exhausts.”

The marina owner ran down the dock, grabbing the line Sam tossed out. “Thank God you made it. I was about to send one of the ferrymen over to Cabbage Key.”

“We’re okay. The
Lucky Lady
has an exhaust fouled, though, I think.” Climbing onto the dock, Sam held a hand down for Marcy. “Can you take a look?”

“Sure thing. Joe, bring the forklift around and haul this boat.” He turned back to Sam. “Can’t tell much about what’s wrong with her in the water. Incidentally, your friends have been worried sick. They got evacuated, but they’ve been calling here nearly every hour asking whether you two got off the island. You might want to let them know you’re okay.”