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“Put that on.” She makes quick work of putting the jumper on and shoving her feet in a pair of trainers.
“I’m scared.” She gulps, looking pleadingly at me.
“Let’s go, Blue.” I cock my head and her lip trembles. She moves towards me, her head low. We don't speak in the elevator down to the garage or even when I cuff her wrists to my own in the car, ensuring she doesn’t try to escape on the journey. Her fingers are icy cold, and I know it’s fear causing that, but if I asked her nicely, she would have never come along.
Half an hour later, I’m pulling into a private harbour with million-pound yachts bobbing in the breeze. Her eyes flash to mine and I keep her cuffed to me, making her clamber over the font console to follow me out.
“Where are we going?” She panics, looking around for help.
“Sailing.”
“I’m a shitty swimmer,” she pants. “I don't want to die. Please?” she whispers, keeping up with me. I want to reassure her and I will when we are safely on the boat. Seth’s yacht is a little farther up and I pull her along until I can secure her up top.
“Don't scream for help. I’ve an excellent shot,” I warn, leaving her to untie the rope from the cleats before meeting her back by the wheel. Avery stares at me, and I smile softly at her. Her eyes widen as she misinterprets my smile for one of sympathy.
I start the engine, and we begin moving. It’s late and Seth will flip knowing I’ve taken the yacht out, but it won’t grow dark for a while yet. I’ve sailed enough times and I know where I’m going.
She stays quiet, but once we begin chugging along at a steady speed, she speaks up.
“Jamieson, I don't understand. I thought… Where are you taking me?”
“Sailing, just sailing,” I answer. Turning, I remove her cuffs and pull her to stand at the wheel between my legs. She is shivering, but I know she will be okay. It’s been warm enough today and I don't plan to keep her up all night.
“Have you brought me out here to die, because I won’t… you know?” Her body is stiff against mine.
“No, I just wanted to take you sailing.” I ensure she hears the conviction in my tone.
“Why?”
“Because I hate keeping you locked up. Believe it or not but—”
“God, please, don’t say women would beg to be you right now.”
I laugh.
“That too.” I clip the back of her knee with my own, and she flashes bright eyes at me. “But if you allowed yourself, you’d like me a hell of a lot, Avery.”
She twists away, but I notice her body relaxing slightly.
“You’ve been drinking. Should you have driven?”
“Are you slapping my wrist, Miss Anderson?”
“You’re putting yourself and others at risk,” she counters.
“I had two shots. Forgive me.” I let my words hang in the open sea air. I’m not just asking for her forgiveness with the shots, but to forgive me for ruining the small chance of normality she felt she could have in life. She doesn't know that if I hadn't collected her from the station, someone else would have, and she wouldn't be standing here right now. I drop my head on her shoulder and she stiffens, but after a few minutes, her shoulders relax. Her hair whips around my neck and I grit my teeth as my cock stiffens. Closing my eyes, I remind myself to take this slow. Avery Anderson might feel like this is the end of her life, but mine feels like it’s only just beginning.
“Won't it get dark soon?”
“We have at least another hour. Why were you in bed so early?”
“I was bored.”
“Is this boring?”
“No,” she whispers. “I’ve always wanted to go sailing.”
“It suits you.” I hum. I can picture her here in a bikini with a wide smile on her face. “So other than sailing, what else do you want to do with your life?”
