Jack & Jilted (7 page)

I could make it up to her.

He sighed. “So are we okay?” he said, more sharply than he’d intended.

She was silent for a long second. Then she sighed in response to his. “You know, one night only would be smart,” she mused.

He turned his attention back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want a relationship and neither do you.” It sounded as though she was trying to puzzle something out. “So if we did it again…wouldn’t that complicate things?”

His body didn’t hear past if we did it again. “I don’t think so,” he said, even as his mind—which did hear the whole statement—complained mightily. Of course it would complicate things, you idiot! She’s a client! She’s no booty call…she’s a keeper! And she’s just lost a marriage! Do not proceed!

“Listen,” he said and he found himself stroking her cheek, enjoying the way she curved her face into his palm. “You’re only here for another few days. I’m on the ocean all the time. We’ve got completely separate lives. We both know what we want and what we don’t want.” He wasn’t sure if he was convincing her or himself or both of them, but he kept talking. “I want to make it up to you. I want you to feel better. If you don’t want to do anything after that, I completely respect that and I’ll keep it strictly professional afterward.”

She stood and so did he. She was close to him. They were both close to the bed.

“And if I do want to do things…after today?” she said.

“You’ve got a full cruise,” he heard himself say. “I can guarantee you’ll have the most relaxing time of your life.”

Her laugh was short and surprised, as well as husky, edged in arousal.

“I suppose it’s only fair to let you try,” she said and reached around his neck, lifting herself up for a kiss.

From the moment her lips touched his it was all over, he knew that. It could be complicated—it could be downright disastrous—but there was no way he’d stop touching her now.

He tugged at her clothes, feeling a little clumsy. He prayed that being tired would not affect his performance. After last night’s poor showing, he felt he owed it to her. Hell, he probably didn’t even deserve an orgasm today. Although, honestly, he doubted he’d be quite that noble.

She was kissing him as she reached back and untied her halter, letting the scraps of material fall to her waist, revealing those perfect creamy breasts of hers. He cupped them for a second, marveling at how well they fit his palms. Then he reached for the button of her pants, unzipping the fly slowly and smoothing the fabric off the gentle curves of her hips. She was wearing a pair of bikini panties, and he eased those off, as well. She kicked the whole ensemble off, removing the halter last. She was now gloriously naked and staring at him with those temptress eyes that she’d revealed the night before.

Don’t mess this up!

He didn’t even take off his clothes, unwilling to court disaster again. When he nudged her onto his bed, he could see her surprise. He kissed her thoroughly, feasting on her supple mouth, until he felt her hands roaming restlessly over him, tugging at his T-shirt. He removed it, but when she reached for his pants, he inched back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

“This is for you, remember?” he said and then kissed her throat, moving lower, between her breasts. He pressed kisses against each inside curve, relishing her small gasps.

“You don’t have to….”

“Hush,” he whispered against her stomach, enjoying the tremors that his breath produced. He’d wanted her like this when he’d massaged her, he remembered, his body going rigid at the simple memory.

“Jack…” Her voice was uncertain, but her fingers curled into his hair.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, tickling a trail past her belly button with the tip of his tongue and then pressing small, heated kisses against her inner thighs. “Trust me,” he said, taking one last look at her and winking at her.

He dipped between her legs, tasting her, reveling in her. She hadn’t done this before, he could tell. Her gasps and jerky, reflexive movements revealed that much. However, she also enjoyed it. She was breathing in short, uneven gasps, and her hips began to move beneath him, pressing up to meet him before withdrawing. He focused on her clit while he inched a finger inside her, pressing up on her secret spot.

She cried out, a noise of pure pleasure, and he smiled against her, continuing. She was panting now, murmuring incoherent words of encouragement until finally she exploded, letting out a rippling shriek of happiness.

He leaned back, smiling, sure that it looked smug but not meaning to be. She looked overwhelmed, shocked by what had just happened.

Now you know how I felt, lady. He was so happy he was almost giddy with it—and he wasn’t the type to be giddy over anything.

“Oh, my God,” she said after breathing hard for several minutes. “I never…that was…”

“You’re welcome,” he said. Now that was smug. He stretched out next to her, propping his head up with one arm.

“But you didn’t…” she said belatedly, pointing to his pants, which he was still wearing. There was a noticeable tent-pole effect, thanks to his body’s hardness.

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

“But…that’s not fair.”

“Now you know how I felt last night,” he said, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She nodded. “It’s better if it’s both of us,” she said. And her eyes were warm.

He smiled. A woman after his own heart. This time when she reached for his belt, he let her, helping her by easing off his pants and boxers. He got another condom, rolling it on hastily. She reached for him, welcoming as the ocean, and he slid into her. She was already wet and ready, but she still moaned appreciatively. He could feel her snug passage closing around him, and it was all he could do to breathe.

Slow, go slow, he counseled himself, easing back and then pressing in, trembling at the sheer sensual overload of the feel of her, the smell of her. She angled her hips, taking more of him in, wrapping her legs around his waist. She did this little twist with her hips, driving him crazy, making him speed up. Go slow!

“Oh, Jack,” she breathed into his ear, and her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her hips were moving in the same rhythm as they had been earlier. “Jack, I think I’m going to…”

He felt her tighten around him, and it was suddenly impossible to go slow. He let his body take control, moving faster and harder into her, her hips meeting his every thrust, her breathing matching his.

“Jack!” she cried out, and he lost it. He felt the release hit him like a freight train and he shuddered against her helplessly, his body pumping furiously as she clung to him.

Now he collapsed, rolling to one side but not releasing her from his arms.

After long moments he looked at her.

She was fast asleep, her arms hooked around him, a smile on her face.

He felt…actually, he couldn’t describe how he felt. But he did know two things.

One, that he’d just had one of the best sexual experiences of his life.

And two, that he was probably in for a world of trouble.

CHLOE STOOD ON THE deck, watching as they navigated the channel that led back to the Coronado harbor. She felt like a completely different person than she’d been when the Rascal had pulled away from its slip, only seven days before. Then, she had felt devastated—that is, what little she could feel in her state of numbness was devastation. Back then, she’d thought her life was a complete shambles. But things were different now.

Now she knew her life was a complete shambles, she thought with a grin. On the plus side, she no longer seemed to care all that much. And that was an entirely new state of affairs.

She’d spent the past five days—and nights—doing nothing that had been on her original mission for her botched honeymoon cruise. Instead of brainstorming all the details she needed to cover when she got home, she’d cooked for the very appreciative crew, having a blast. Instead of writing out an action plan, she’d gone fishing with Jack and Jose, catching nothing, but having a lot of fun. And instead of crying into her pillow every night…

The smile on her face at that thought could probably be seen from space. Her pillow had been witness to a lot of astounding and sexually unbelievable things in the past five days, but crying certainly wasn’t one of them.

“So,” she heard Jack’s voice emerge behind her. “Looks like this is the end of your cruise.”

“Yup. I guess the honeymoon’s over,” she said, tongue in cheek, then realized with a pang that it really was, in several senses. She could also feel more than see Jack’s tension at the comment. She knew he was by no means permanent and should’ve realized that anything even vaguely marriage-related wouldn’t fly that well. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

She’d known that she couldn’t keep Jack, and while he was amazing in bed, she was in no state to tell what he’d be like out of it. Besides, she’d just gotten out of a relationship—jumping back into one would be the height of stupidity. All Jack had guaranteed her was a vacation, and she’d had that and then some. But, like all vacations, this one had to end. She’d have to face reality at some point.

It looked as if that point was now.

“I hope you enjoyed your trip,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I have to admit,” she said, stretching in the sunlight, “it had its high points.” She was gratified when he chuckled at her understatement. They stood that way for a few minutes in comfortable silence, not touching, merely savoring the day.

“I almost hate to ask this,” Jack finally said, “but what are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted in a rueful tone. “But I’ll be fine.” She paused, then shrugged. “Just in case you were worried,” she added, not sure if that was why he asked the question.

“Actually, I wasn’t.” He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to shiver in response. After one short week with him, she’d know his touch if she were blindfolded in a crowd twenty years from now.

“You wouldn’t worry about me?” she asked, more to distract herself than anything.

“I don’t need to,” he responded, his thumb making a small circle near her collarbone. “You’re one strong lady, Chloe Winton. And I know this sounds cliché, but…you’re going to be all right.”

“Thanks,” she said softly.

He took his hand away, to her relief and regret. “You know, the guys are going to miss your cooking,” he added, clearing his throat as if to eliminate the emotion caught there. “You’re going to be a tough act to follow. You even gave Kenneth a run for his money, and I never thought I’d say that.”

“Well, if that whole finding-another-job thing doesn’t pan out, maybe I can use you as a reference,” she joked, even as the joke brought home the fact that, yeah, she’d really need to look for a job.

“Reference, hell,” he said. “I’d hire you myself.”

She turned to face him finally, blinking at his statement. He looked a little stunned, too.

She thought about it. It had been idyllic, this past week on the ship. But that hadn’t been working, per se. That had been playing with the occasional meal preparation. And how much of her relaxation was from working on the Rascal…versus how much had come from the hours she’d spent losing herself in sexual oblivion with its captain?

Either way, the idyll was illusory. No matter how much she dreamed, she knew that.

“Well, I appreciate the offer,” she finally responded, forcing herself to keep her tone light. “Who knows, right? But as you said…I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she shut the door on any future ideas she might’ve had about the Rascal or its captain.

He nodded, and she could’ve sworn he looked relieved—and a bit irritated. Which made no sense. Still, what did these days?

Jose steered the boat through the narrow waterways, finally pulling into their slip. Chloe watched as Jack and Ace jumped out, securing the lines to the cleats on the dock. Then she went belowdecks to her cabin, where she’d already packed. She rolled her bag back to find the walkway set up. The three men stood there, smiling at her.

“Thanks for choosing us to cruise with,” Jack said.

“And for feeding us,” Ace added.

“Come back anytime,” Jose offered, ignoring Jack’s sarcastic rolling eyes.

“I appreciate it, guys,” she said and then impulsively hugged all of them, saving Jack for last.

“Here, I’ll take your luggage to your car,” he said. “Least I can do.”

She started to protest but finally let him after waving to the crew members. They walked in silence down the docks, heading back up to the parking lot where her car was waiting. She turned to Jack. “Thanks for everything,” she said—and meant it.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, putting her luggage in her trunk. Then he stood by the driver’s side, and she fumbled with her keys awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Or do.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” he finally said.

“You, too,” she replied and reached to hug him again.

He didn’t just hug her. He gave her a slow, lingering kiss that took her breath away and made her body ache.

After long moments he pulled away, breathing heavily. “I’m glad I met you, Chloe.”