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“Are you here, Jax?”
Through her sweet kisses, she murmurs a yes.
“Then it’s my favorite.”
Her laugh makes the sun in my sky shine brighter. “You’re a lot more charming than you think you are.”
But I know that’s not the truth. I just love being with her. She owns me. Jax Pierce has owned me since I was a hopeless romantic at 13.
I don’t believe in fate, but I can’t deny that meeting her and living out my childhood dream seems like enough of a coincidence to make me a believer.
As our kisses and pets heat up, egged on by the gentle rocking of the boat, Jax shows me what she likes with her soft moans, sighs, and wriggles. She tastes like saltwater and exotic fruit. Her mouth opens to me more the deeper I probe with our kiss.
I’m such a hungry, careless bastard I fear I might choke her with my tongue, but she opens her throat and takes more. I groan into her mouth. My cock twitches at the suggestiveness of it. I don’t expect a deep-throat, but I can just imagine those full lips wrapped around my cock, taking all of me, all the way back.
Maybe that will happen, and perhaps it won’t.
All I care about right now is making sure she’s having a good time.
I don’t want to come up for air; all I want is to keep drinking her in. Human biology, however, dictates otherwise. “I’m not who you think I am,” I say, breathless, remembering all the rules I broke to get us out here.
I was supposed to return the boat keys to Baker as soon as we had returned to the dock after parasailing. But that’s not what I did.
Sierra and Jax had said their goodbyes at the dock — Sierra shooting me a warning look that implied I’d better be good to her friend — and then I threw caution to the ocean breeze. And now, here we are, around the eastern tip of the island at Pirate’s Cove. Miles from the main resort and in the middle of reefs too dangerous for most watercraft to interrupt our time together.
It’s not exactly guaranteed to be private, but I’ve discovered my rebellious streak, and I’m going with it.
With one more precious kiss from her lips, Jax pulls back and smiles, though her eyes are hooded. “I know exactly who you are. I’ve been doing my homework since yesterday. Isolating me in a remote cove barely accessible to rescue boats. I think you mean to ravage me, Dr. Jones.”
Chapter Twelve
Jax
Before I finish that sentence, the man Brooks has me straddling his lap, his eyes daring me to say no.
He growls. “Isn’t that what you want, angel?”
I nod my head dumbly, taken aback at the strain in his voice. He sounds as if someone or something is holding him back on a leash, and he’s just within nipping distance of what he wants. This is such a change from yesterday. He’s the same person but hungrier. I’m one part nervous at the ferocity lurking behind his eyes and two parts humming with curiosity.
He cups my face and kisses me fiercely.
“There’s something else you should know. The douchebag who usually runs this boat pissed me off, and I want to fuck you in it out of spite. It’s not normal for me, so if that turns you off, say the word.”
Relieved, I nod my head again. “I’m down to be petty with you. He must have really pissed you off, Doctor.”
The husky growl from him vibrates everywhere our bodies touch. “He implied he was going to make a play for you, and I fucking lost it.”
I shouldn’t have these feelings about men fighting over me. I didn’t think the man was capable of such coarse language. But holy shit, the nerdy doctor losing his mind with jealousy makes me slick with need.
“Some other guy sniffs around, and you need to mark your territory?” I tease.
Brooks’ rough hands on my nearly bare cheeks pull me closer, though our hips already are fused. “You don’t understand,” he says. “You’re already mine.”
One half of my brain wants to challenge this whole idea; I don’t belong to anyone but myself. The other half says: Yes, Nature Boy. I’m yours.
“Convince me. Make me yours, then,” I say.
Brooks’s mouth owns mine in a kiss so intense I forget where I am. His hands drag down my back, down my legs, around the cheeks of my ass, up my sides. My body tracks the path of his hands everywhere, the steady, low groans promising to unleash a beast on me. I’m ready for it.
