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He started walking her backwards, pushing her back onto the thinly padded bench they’d been sitting on. The breadth of her slim shoulders filled it completely. He leaned backwards, his eyes still focused on her breasts. ‘You’ve no idea how many times I’ve seen these in my head.’ His voice was low, husky and she liked it that way.
‘And is the reality better or worse?’ She couldn’t help but arch her back a little towards him. Her breasts were probably her favourite part of her. Slightly bigger than average for her small frame—even more so since she’d had Isla.
‘Oh, the reality is much better.’ He ran his hands over her breasts, first cupping them and then concentrating on her nipples. She moved beneath his touch.
He gave a low, lazy smile. ‘I wondered if you were a matching underwear kind of gal.’
‘Your whole plan for seducing me was to see if I wear matching underwear?’
‘I seduced you?’ The tone in his voice had risen playfully, then he shook his head, ‘Oh, no, lady, you seduced me.’
‘I did not.’
He mouth hovered just above her breast. He had a teasing glare in his eye. ‘How about this close?’ he murmured.
Her hands were already cupping his bum in the well-worn jeans and her natural instinct was to move them around to the front. If they’d been lying in a bed his legs would have been on either side of hers. But the narrow bench didn’t allow for that. Instead, he had one knee between her legs and his other leg still planted on the floor. This could get awkward.
His hand moved around to her back, ready to unsnap her bra. Her fingers poised at the button on his jeans. She couldn’t think rationally any more.
She wasn’t thinking about Isla. She wasn’t thinking about living on a small island. She wasn’t thinking about the fact he was one of her work colleagues. All she could think about was the electricity in the air between them. The way that things had just combusted in an instant. If this was what his kisses could do to her, how much better could this get?
It was like being a teenager all over again. Six years of virtual celibacy. With a few lousy dates and even lousier kisses somewhere in the middle of it all.
Before she’d got pregnant with Isla she hadn’t had a steady relationship for months. And she wasn’t the kind of girl who did casual sex. Well, not usually.
She couldn’t wait. She couldn’t wait any longer. She flicked the button—just as the biggest surge of waves hit the boat.
For a moment she was shocked. She’d almost forgotten they were on a boat until a huge swell tumbled them both unceremoniously to the floor.
Their positions reversed in mid-air and Logan landed on her with a thud. However many stones of powerful muscle and sinew pushed the wind clean out of her.
She started to cough. A reflex from the pressure currently on her lungs. He moved sideways, letting her draw in a breath and putting his knee on the floor next to her as he pulled himself up. Without a word, two hands appeared under her arms and lifted her back onto the bench. ‘I’d better get out there,’ he muttered, grabbing his jacket and opening the hatch door to let in an icy blast of sea air.
The hatch banged closed behind him.
Gemma’s chin was struggling not to bang off the floor. Her knuckles clenched the edge of the bench as the boat continued to roll from side to side.
Her heart was clamouring against her chest. Was she relieved? Or disappointed? Could she phone a friend? Because right now she didn’t have a clue.
Her finger touched her lips. If there had been a mirror in front of her she was sure they would be swollen. A chill swept over her skin and she instantly pulled her shirt together, fastening the buttons as best she could.
What would have happened if the boat hadn’t hit some rough water?
She couldn’t even think about it because she had no doubt about what would have happened.
Logan appeared to have walked out without a second thought. She pressed her nose up against one of the portholes but she couldn’t see a thing out there. She had no idea what part of the boat he’d gone to. And it wasn’t as if she could be any help. All the information she knew about boats she could have written on the back of a postage stamp.
She picked up the jacket and pulled it back on. Should she go out there and offer to help? She had a sneaking suspicion she would end up as more of a hindrance than a help.
She let out a groan. Logan had said that she’d seduced him. And he was right. She had.
Or at least she’d tried her best to.
Her hands covered her face. She was mortified. This was hardly her normal behaviour. But the building flirtation between them, followed by the crazy silence for the last few weeks, had driven her crazy.
Then, when he’d almost teased her to act, she’d been unable to help herself.
Thank goodness she didn’t play poker. She would be bankrupt in five minutes.
The door opened and Logan stuck his head inside. ‘Gemma? Are you okay?’ He smiled when he saw she’d replaced her clothes. ‘Yeah, you obviously are. Pity. I think I preferred you the other way.’ He lifted his hand. ‘Look, I can’t come back in, I need to stay out and keep on top of things.’ His eyes sparkled and he shook his head a little. ‘That would be boat things.’
She nodded. She couldn’t find a word, and she’d been too shocked to pick up on the innuendo there. Logan appeared completely at ease. Was he sorry they’d been stopped? She felt the tiniest bit reassured.
‘Listen, we’ll hit calmer waters soon, but by then we’ll just about be back at Arran.’
The implication was clear. No more horizontal games. Not now, anyway.
‘Okay.’ It was the only word she could find.
‘Come out in a bit if you feel okay.’ He gave her one last smile before he ducked back out and closed the door.
She could still feel her heart thudding. This was for the best.
Really, it was.
If anything else had happened, how could she have looked her colleague in the eye?
Plus she had no idea what it would have meant.
She wasn’t ready to introduce her little girl to any potential boyfriends—no matter what kind of pictures Isla drew. They hadn’t even truly settled in yet. They still had to get through the summer and get Isla settled into school.
Anything else would have to wait.
Except the skin under her shirt was still burning from his touch. Her lips were aching.
But it was a good ache, not a bad one. To say nothing about the other parts of her body.
What she couldn’t figure out was if this was just a reaction to him, or if this was just the reaction of woman who hadn’t been touched in so long she was practically crazy.
It wasn’t as if there hadn’t been a whole host of boyfriends in her time. And, sure, there had been a few that had set her heart a-flutter.
But no one who had set off reactions like this in her.
Maybe Logan was just too good at this. Maybe this was how every woman who came into contact with Logan felt.
She winced. Please, no. That would be too embarrassing for words. Plus she couldn’t bear to think that way.
She picked up the cups and took them over to the tiny sink to wash them. Anything to stop the thousands of thoughts flicking through her mind right now. Anything at all to distract her.
She caught a glimpse from the porthole. Logan was right. Arran was coming into view. She felt a little surge of something. It was home now. And there was some comfort in seeing it.
Logan had said he loved being surrounded by the sea. Gemma wasn’t so sure. She didn’t mind being out on the sea as long as she could still see a piece of land somewhere. It gave her a grain of comfort.
If the boat capsized right now she would have probably no chance whatsoever of being able to swim ashore. But at least now she would know what direction to swim in. She’d be able to try and swim home to her daughter.
The door swung open. ‘Fancy coming up and watching us sail in?’ He
still had that glint in his eye, but was it for her or was it for the sail? She wasn’t entirely sure.
His hand reached down and grabbed hers to help her up the steps. It was warm. It was comforting. And as soon as she reached the top of the steps he slung an arm around her waist and spun her around to face the sea again.
‘Look at that. The sun’s beginning to go down. Look at the colours across the water. Isn’t it beautiful?’
