Page 3 of Rocked Deep

Peyton is safe. Breathe.

I hold her to me for a few seconds as the storm rages around us.

Then my relief is rapidly replaced by fury. I release her reluctantly and march her inside the house.

I work to keep my voice level so I don’t scare her with the amount of fear raging through me. “What the hell were you doing out here? Something could’ve happened to you, sweetheart and rogue waves are common in storms like these.” I reach behind her, pulling the door closed.

Standing this close I get tunnel vision and I can’t force myself to move. Hints of coconut sunscreen cling to her and when she moves even the slightest of inches, I get a hit of it. It’s like the sweetest aphrodisiac to my system. Blood pumps into my cock and I’m hard before I can think up another line to keep her this close a little longer.

I place my hands on either side of her head, caging her against the door.

She bites her lower lip and that’s when I notice the tremble run through her body. Fuck. My eyes drop to her full, pouty lower lip. She has naturally full lips, and that lower one begs me to nibble on it. Tears well in her light brown eyes and a few cling to her thick, black eyelashes.

My whole body tenses. “Fuck,” I swear softly. I draw her in and take a few seconds to enjoy the way her hands curl around my lower back and settle just above my belt line. Her fingers cling to my shirt. I have a million questions in that one move, but I suppress the need to ask them. Along with the need to confess I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I do her. She’s had me restless and on edge for the better part of what? Six weeks now? Since she signed on as Lila’s nanny.

I knew from the moment she put her name on the papers I shouldn’t, but like a lot of bad ideas in my life, I went with it anyway.

Grabbing a beach towel from the clean pile by the door, I drape one around her shoulders but not before noticing her tight, puckered nipples pushing against her swimsuit. Even looking vaguely like a drowned cat, she is stunningly gorgeous.

“I’m ss-sorry, Mr. Hawkins. Damn, it happened so fast. The weather was gorgeous one minute and then I thought I saw Dorothy’s house fly by in the next.”

I smile at her spunk. Her soft lips now have a blueish tinge from the cold, but the way she says my name has me at a disadvantage. Blood shoots straight to my cock like it always does, and I need a minute to gain my control before I move away. One step back and there’s no way she’ll miss the massive hard-on fighting to get out of my jeans.

I need some space between us. The image of her in this suit is seared in my brain, and my cock isn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

“You need something to warm you up,” I say, low and with more husk than needed. With a hand on her lower back, I direct her to a kitchen chair but not before handing her a few more towels. The more of her that is covered, the better.

Hell, the imprint of her damp body clings to my clothes. Feeling her skin, even damp, felt supple, just like that little ass was. I want to rip that damn wet bathing suit off her and warm her up—with my tongue.

But I push that thought into a tiny black box in my head and slam the lid shut.

I’ll savor the fantasy of her naked tonight while I’m alone in my room.

The house is as dark inside as out with the power failure. The generator hasn’t kicked on, which isn’t a total surprise either. It only works a fraction of the time. Island life means living without these conveniences. I don’t usually mind, but now I want hot water for Peyton and that is not going to happen. I guess one silver lining is that Lila isn’t here. She’s at a hotel where they have generators for these occurrences.

Several ways to warm her up cloud my brain, all of them involve both of us naked and her riding me like the storm is riding the island—wild and with abandon.

Since I’m not a complete asshole, I stride to the bar pushed up to the back end of the living room, pick my poison and keep my thoughts to myself. I don’t need light, and I am familiar with the contents of my bar. I pour a splash of whiskey in one glass for her, but I am much more generous for myself. Carrying the drinks back into the kitchen, I notice Peyton has finished drying her hair, leaving all but one of the other towels to the side. She wraps a dry towel around her waist.

I hand her the glass while I take a sip of my drink, and dip my eyes to the beautiful curve of her breasts. Tight peaks press against the thin fabric. She is still chilled, and her full breasts strain the resistance of her bathing suit. I imagine her spread naked before me on the kitchen table. Despite the whiskey, my throat feels dry. She awakens a rawness inside me. It’s dark, possessive and hungry. I was foolish to bring her here.

Reluctantly, I pull my eyes back up to her face.

My gaze roams over a delicate neck free of any jewelry to find her gazing at me. A fierce blush creeps into her cheeks. She caught me admiring her beauty, but fuck it. At least she hasn’t walked in on me in the shower when I fantasize about her deep-throating my cock.

I sigh inwardly. Now she knows her boss is a perv. Not surprisingly, her blush suits her.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Lila is so fond of you.” I frown through the half-truth I just uttered. “So am I,” I offer with a tight smile. Two half-truths don’t make a whole though.

Peyton ducks her head.

My eyes drift down over her shapely calves.

Keep your eyes above her neck, asshole.

“I’m sorry, Jude.” Her voice is soft but I hear my name fall from her lips. It is hard to hear her whisper above the wind and rain.

But I do. And my cock responds.

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