“So, what, for the next few weeks we’re…” He trails off, his thumb sliding across my swollen lips.
“Having fun,” I offer. “And when we get back to LA, we can go back to normal.”
The plan forms in my mind rapidly. Ideal for both of us. We can work out the rogue emotions between us—likely intense sexual attraction that will fizzle in time—and it will only make faking for the cameras easier. Charlie would call this a symbiotic relationship, the both of us benefiting from striking a deal.
“Having fun?” he parrots back, brows pinching together.
I press against his chest, my nipples hardening as his grip tightens. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes. “You know how to have fun, right, Jett?”
It’s a challenge, and his pupils dilate in response.
His head dips, bringing his mouth against my ear. “What kind of fun?”
The air grows taut with tension. “The clothing-optional kind.”
His grip on my waist tightens, almost painfully so. “And when we get back to LA, you go back to being my employee?”
“That’s the plan.”
A disagreeing sound rips from his throat, setting me on edge, but his tongue darts out and his head turns, skin brushing mine in a ghost of a kiss. “I’ve never been a man who followed plans,” he admits before his hand slides down the curve of my back and he rips me forward, stealing my breath in a desperate kiss. “It’s one of the many reasons I hired you.”
My heart thumps—a wild, unruly beat—as he pins me against the boat railing. The chill of the metal bites into my thighs, but it’s melted by the heat pooling in my lower stomach when he presses his hips against my abdomen, the outline of him hot and hard against me.
His movements are measured, unhurried, exploratory, like he’s mapping every curve and crevice of my lips, memorizing each soft sound I offer him.
The little voice in the back of my mind screaming with a bullhorn that this is a horrible idea is nothing more than a nuisance I banish to the silent corner. She can have a say once she’s less judgmental.
I drag my nails up his neck, capturing the soft moan he offers. Strands of silky hair slip through my fingers, and heat pools in my core, each one of his touches fanning the flame.
“Room,” I demand, admiring the broad expanse of his back. Before I reach his ass, I’m off the ground and hanging over his shoulder as he books it across the deck.
He sets me down long enough to descend the narrow stairs, before I’m in the air again and he’s striding to his cabin. The air in the room cools my heated skin, and the echo of the door locking shut mingles with Jett’s ragged breaths.
Neither of us bother with the light, and I’m tossed onto the bed, heart thumping as Jett stalks toward me.
“You have no idea how badly I want you,” he admits, trailing his hands down my hips to my ankles.
My gaze flicks down to the erection pressing against his zipper. “I might have a little idea.”
Or large. Quite large.
“I need to know you want this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my calf as he drops to his knees. “Before we cross the line, I need to hear the words.”
Pleasure coils in my lower stomach, and I press up onto my elbows to witness him on his knees in front of me. Fuck, is it a heady sight to witness him like this—desperate, disheveled,unleashed.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Need you.Please.”
I hate asking a man for pleasure, but right now, I wouldbeghim to touch me. He doesn’t keep me waiting, pulling off my skirt and underwear in one efficient motion. The sound he releases could only be described as tortured.
“Fuck.”
Rough palms graze the insides of my thighs, pressing against them and opening my legs wider. My head swims when he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to my hip, moving closer to where I’m desperate for him.
Any consequence of this situation is thrown out the cabin’s porthole once he drags his tongue across my skin, sucking lightly on my clit. I almost launch off the bed, the pressure and movement of his tongue too much and not enough.
More,my mind screams.
My fingers tangle in his hair, destroying the bun holding back the messy waves as I grip the strands with strength. He groans against my sensitive flesh, and my hips buck when he slips a finger inside me.
