He doesn’t answer me right away, and nothing but the sound of the ship racing through the water can be heard over the thumping of my heart. The muscles in my legs start to shake as I continue holding myself up so I can be close to his mouth, and right when I think he’s going to push away from me and storm off like he did the other night after he kissed me, he gives me that damn smirk again.
“Put your hands on the railing. And hold on tight,” he finally whispers back.
CHAPTER 9
Declan
I’m the biggest hypocrite in the world. I bitch at Ben all the time about mixing business with pleasure, and what the fuck do I do within ten seconds of being close to Mackenzie? I’ve got her pinned against the railing and my cock pressed against her ass, whispering in her ear and trying not to blow my load with how damn good she smells. I swear to Christ she must bathe in suntan lotion.
At least my intentions were good when I initially came out here, intent on finding her so I could try to explain why I acted the way I did the night before. I rehearsed what I would say a thousand times in my head after I heard the jetty come back a few hours ago. I paced the entire length of the ship ten times after all my nightly duties were finished and I was officially off the clock until morning, hoping Mackenzie would believe it when I told her that I just wasn’t interested, the kiss meant nothing, and I couldn’t be distracted by anyone or anything while I was working.
And then I came around the corner and found her leaning against the railing, just like the night I kissed her, her hair still damp from a shower as the ocean breeze got a hold of it and blew it around her face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her long, smooth legs or her perfect ass in those tiny cotton shorts. I moved up behind her, got a whiff of her coconut skin, and everything I planned to say flew from my mind.
I admitted I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss. I told her every time I closed my eyes I could taste her, smell her, and feel her, like the Goddamn pussy I am. I thought when I explained how she’s a guest, I’m on the crew, and we couldn’t cross that line, that would be it. She’d understand and walk away, not torment me by rubbing her body against mine or whispering against my lips, wanting me to pretend like we were other people.
I’m the biggest hypocrite in the world, and right now, I don’t give a fuck.
“Put your hands on the railing. And hold on tight,” I whisper, watching Mackenzie give me a smirk of her own before turning her head away from me and doing what I ask.
Her wet hair continues to blow around between us, and I take one hand off the railing to gather it up in in my fist, holding it down by the nape of her neck before bending my head and putting my mouth back by her ear.
“If you weren’t a guest, and I wasn’t on the crew, I’d slide my hand around your waist and touch those couple of inches of bare skin showing below the edge of your tank top that have been driving me crazy since I saw you standing here,” I speak against her ear.
I watch her hands tighten on the railing in front of her as I do just what I said. My palm slides against the warm skin of her lower stomach where her tank top had risen up, stopping just over her belly button to add some pressure and pull her ass back harder against my cock.
“What else?” she whispers, her voice floating away with the breeze as I smile at the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her breath coming out faster the more I talk.
“I’d finally taste your skin, and see if you tasted as sweet as I imagined,” I reply, dipping my head down lower.
I scrape my teeth against the side of her neck before easing the sting with my lips, gently sucking her skin into my mouth and swirling my tongue around the area I just bit.
Mackenzie whimpers softly, and her hips start to move as she rubs her ass slowly against my cock before demanding more.
“What else?”
I continue sucking on her neck for a few seconds before I make a trail of kisses back up to her ear and reply.
“If we were other people, I’d slide my hand up under your shirt and finally touch those amazing tits I jerked off to when I saw you rubbing lotion on them yesterday.”
She makes a noise somewhere between a shocked gasp and a strangled moan as my hand slowly makes its way up under her tank top, gliding against the soft skin of her stomach and wanting to scream to the heavens in thanks that she’s not wearing a bra.
It’s my turn to let out a guttural moan when my hand palms one of her bare breasts, kneading the heavy weight of it in my hand before grazing my thumb back and forth across the tight bud of her nipple.
“Did you really jerk off after you saw me, or are we still pretending?” Mackenzie asks, letting out another small sound of pleasure when I pinch her nipple gently between my thumb and forefinger.
Hearing her say the words “jerk off” makes me want to shove my hand down my pants and do exactly that, but this is all about her right now. She’s letting me do these things to her after I was a Grade A asshole. I’m not about to fuck it up by pleasuring myself instead of her.
“I locked myself down in my bunk and came so hard I almost saw stars,” I admit, tugging and pulling on her nipple before moving my hand away and back down the skin of her stomach.
I keep my hand still, running my fingertips back and forth over her skin, right above the waistband of her shorts, waiting for her to say the words. It only takes her a few seconds to realize I’m not going to do anything else until she does.
“What else?” she finally asks.
I know I should draw this out, make it longer and make it worth it for her. I’ve already decided this is it with Mackenzie. Just this one time, just this one taste and then we can both stop pretending. I can get my fucking head back on straight and do my job without the distraction of wondering what she sounds like and feels like when she comes, and she can go back to enjoying the rest of her vacation without worrying about me pissing her off.
I know I should take my time, but I can’t. It’s impossible. I want it all and I want it now.
“I’d try my hardest to take it slow, but I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from pushing my hands down into those tight little shorts and finding out if you’re wet for me.”
My hand immediately moves, acting out my words as my fingers dip beneath the waistband of her shorts and her lacy underwear, not stopping until they come in contact with her smoothly waxed, hot pussy, and I find out the answer to what I was wondering.
She’s so wet, my fingers easily glide through her folds and we both moan at the same time when I stop, holding the tips right at her pulsing center.
“W-what else?” she stutters as one of her hands comes off the railing to clutch tightly to my arm that’s wrapped around her waist and down inside her shorts.
“I’d fuck you with my fingers until you came and I could hear you shout my name,” I tell her as her fingernails dig into the skin of my forearm, trying to push me to act on the words I just spoke.
A strangled sound of need comes out of her mouth when I hold my hand still, refusing to move until she tells me something first.
“What are you doing? Keep going,” she begs softly, her face turning towards mine as my fingers lazily swirl against her wet heat, building up her need, wanting her crazy with it so she’ll know exactly how I’ve felt since the first moment I saw her.
“Tell me what Marcel called me under his breath when I found you guys in the galley.”
Her eyes widen in shock as she pulls her head back to look up at me.
“Seriously? You want to talk about Marcel right now?”
I start to pull my fingers away from her, and she digs her nails into me so hard I’m pretty sure she might have drawn blood.
“Fine! He said ‘Fuck you, motherfucker’,” she shouts in irritation, the swear words coming out of her perfect little mouth making me laugh and turning me on even more than I thought possible. “Are you finished? Can we get back to—”
I lean down and press my lips to hers, quickly thrusting two fingers in
side of her at the same time. She lets out a shocked moan into my mouth and I hold myself still inside of her to give her a second to get used to me invading her body, and to give myself some time to calm the fuck down before I thrust my cock against her ass and come in my jeans.
She’s so wet and tight and perfect. I push my tongue past her lips and pull my fingers almost all the way out of her before quickly thrusting them back in as deep as I can go. Her tongue tangles with mine and I swallow her whimpers of need as I fuck her pussy with my fingers, adding my thumb to circle around her swollen clit.
Her hips thrust up against my hand, begging me to fuck her faster and deeper. I clench her hair more tightly in my fist to bring her head back farther so I can kiss her harder, my fingers never stopping the rough push and pull out of her body. She presses her hand harder against my arm, helping me move faster between her thighs until I can hear the wet slapping of my fingers as I take everything she’s willing to give me.
I push away the depressing thought that this will be the one and only time I can let this happen and concentrate on sliding my tongue through her mouth and pleasuring her with my hand, the only thing I can give her right now.
Moving my mouth away from hers, I kiss my way to her ear.
“Say something in French,” I whisper, keeping my fingers buried inside of her to lazily swirl my thumb around her clit, loving the way her hips jerk against my hand, begging me to keep moving.
“Tu le sens si bien. N’arrête pas. You feel so good. Don’t stop,” she speaks quickly in a soft voice, translating the words for me and ending with a low moan when I press my thumb harder against her clit as I rub little circles around it.
“Christ, that’s so fucking hot,” I mutter against her ear, moving my fingers between her legs faster, knowing if she doesn’t come soon, I’m going to rip these fucking shorts off her legs and slam my cock inside of her.
I’ve never felt so tied up in knots over anyone before. I’ve never wanted to risk everything just for one taste and one touch of a woman before. I can’t even bother feeling a second of regret. I stop worrying about what will happen when I tell her this was a one-time thing, when I feel Mackenzie’s pussy start to tighten around my fingers and she gets impossibly wetter.
I move my mouth away from hers and thrust my fingers deeply, holding them perfectly still as I curl those two fingers up inside of her. The tips of my fingers press against her g-spot as my thumb continues to work her clit, swiping back and forth over it until she squeezes her eyes closed and her head falls back against my shoulder.
“Let me hear it. Let me hear you say my name when you come,” I tell her, my thumb moving faster and my hand letting go of the hold it has on her hair to wrap around her waist and anchor her body to me.
Her hips jerk erratically against my hand and I start thrusting my fingers in and out of her again until it happens. Her tight pussy pulses around my fingers and she opens her mouth, shouting my name into the night sky.
“Oh, my God, Declan…I’m coming. Fuck, Declan!”
I soak up the sound of my name on her lips, knowing I’ll never, ever forget it. I hold my arm around her body tighter and my fingers continue pumping in and out of her, drawing out her orgasm until her hips finally stop jerking and her body falls forward, both of her arms smacking down on the railing to cushion the slump of her head onto them.
Even though I never want to leave the heat of her body, I slowly draw my fingers out of her, pulling her tank top back down and straightening the waistband of her shorts, chuckling to myself when I hear her let out a long, exhausted moan.
“Holy shit,” she mutters, her voice muffled against her arms while she’s still bent forward in front of me. “If that was pretend, what the hell would you do to me if it were real?”
CHAPTER 10
Mackenzie
We’ve been cruising around the islands for a day and a half, taking our time to get to St. Croix. I tried not to let it bother me that, once again, Declan has performed a fabulous disappearing act and I’ve only seen him from a distance a small handful of times. Each time I headed in his direction or tried to catch his eye, he’d move to another part of the boat or disappear inside somewhere.
This guy is getting on my last nerve, and he’s making me feel like an idiot for letting down my guard with him AGAIN. The only reason I haven’t hunted him down and made him say something to me is because I can’t fully hate the guy for giving me the best damn orgasm I’ve had in my life, followed by the best sleep I’ve had in months.
Not even the twin terrors could kill my buzz yesterday morning over breakfast when they told me the sundress I was wearing was tacky and made me look washed out. I didn’t even bat an eye at them after lunch when they told me I was started to look a little “thick in the thighs” and shouldn’t be eating so much on vacation. They were just pissed because Marcel gave them the boring Kale salad with tasteless fat free dressing on the side they requested, and he made me, my father, and Brooke an entire tray of sliders and a giant basket of french fries. While the three of us inhaled the greasy, fried and delicious food, laughing and having a good time, Allyson and Brooke stabbed their forks at their stupid salads and glared at us the entire time.
I pretended like I wasn’t looking for Declan all day yesterday, like I wasn’t trying to figure out a way to ask him if we could have a repeat performance as soon as possible. I let Brooke distract me by having Ben set up the water trampoline for us when the captain anchored the boat for a little while and made sure we used it for an obscene amount of time to make it worth his effort. I pretended like I wasn’t jealous in the least that Ben did everything in his power to be near Brooke, switching jobs with anyone he could so he could hang out with us. He was nice and funny, and I liked that he made my best friend smile and laugh and had no problem putting up with her sarcasm. Even if Brooke would never see or speak to him again when this trip was over, it was nice to see her happy and relaxed and not always worrying about me. I also did a good job pretending like I didn’t wish Ben’s easy-going attitude and how he said exactly what he was thinking would rub off on Declan.
My good mood lasted until last night at dinner when I waited for Declan to show up. He had to bartend again, which meant he couldn’t avoid me. A few minutes before our first course arrived, Ben came rushing out onto the deck, apologizing for being late, explaining that Declan had other things to do tonight and he’d be taking over as bartender. For a second, I thought maybe this was Ben’s way to hang around Brooke again, but when he looked over at me and gave me a sheepish smile and an apologetic shrug, I knew Declan must have said something to him and this had everything to do with me.
I went to bed early in a bad mood, tossing and turning until the sun came up this morning.
To add to my exhaustion and overall irritability today, I got a phone call from one of my father’s attorney’s telling me it was imperative that I check my email as soon as possible and reply back to him immediately. I’ve been walking all over this damn ship trying to get a Wi-Fi signal and nothing is working.
With my head down as I hold my laptop in one hand and bang on the keys with another, I make my way off the sundeck and inside to the main salon. Setting my computer down on the bar top in the corner, I check the Wi-Fi signal again and curse under my breath when it’s still not available.
“Having troubles?”
Even though I’m pissed at him right now, the sound of Declan’s low, gravelly voice behind me still makes my skin tingle and reminds me of all the wonderful and dirty things he said in my ear the other night.
“Yes. The stupid Wi-Fi on this boat isn’t working and I have something important I need to check,” I reply, not bothering to turn around as I continue to smack they keys in annoyance.
“Something important to check on vacation? What, like a really fabulous shoe sale?”
The sarcasm and outright loathing in his voice shocks me completely speechless. Gone is the man who whispered hot words of need and w
ant in my ear, who touched me like he’d been doing it for years and knew exactly what to do to bring me the most pleasure. The back of my eyes prickle with tears and I curse myself a thousand different ways for letting some guy I just met get under my skin like this.
“Don’t worry, princess, the shoes will still be there in a few days. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
The meanness in his voice that I’ve done nothing to deserve, quickly dries up my unshed tears and makes me stand up a little taller as I slowly turn around and face him.
I hate that he looks so good in his navy blue polo and shorts. I hate that I know exactly what his mouth tastes like, the one that just spoke to me in such a shitty way. I hate that I’m letting a stupid vacation fling, which hasn’t even really turned into a fling, drive me so crazy that I want to scream. I hate that he’s standing here in front of me, staring at me with a condescending smirk on his face when I can’t stop thinking about how good he looks. I’ll be damned if I sit here and take it.
“Sure. Because that’s all I do. Sit around and spend money, right?” I ask in a chipper, sarcastic voice, watching the smirk quickly die on his face. “I couldn’t possibly have a brain in my head or actual important things to handle that could affect my family’s entire life, could I? I just sit on my ass, ordering people around, and spending my father’s money just like the two raging bitches outside, right? That’s what you see when you look at me, right? RIGHT?”
I’m shouting now and I know it’s only a matter of time before someone hears us and comes running in here, but I don’t give a shit. I’m tired of people looking at me seeing what they want to see instead of what’s really there. I’m tired of letting people walk over me and never having a voice. Fuck them and fuck him.
“Damn, you got me there. It’s amazing how well you know me after only FIVE FUCKING DAYS!” I finish.