“I HAVE a confession to make.” Kitty stepped down the stairs to the cabin of Josh’s boat. “When I first saw this boat, I thought you were crazy to want to live on it. But now that I’ve spent some time here, I realize there’s really a lot more space than you’d think.”
Josh followed her down and tossed himself on the queen-size bunk. “I’ve got plenty of space.” He spread his arms across the bed. “There’s even room for two here.”
She started to wash the breakfast dishes, apparently not picking up on his hint. “And really,” she went on, “the more I think about you living on a boat, the more I think it suits you.”
“And how is that?”
“It’s adventurous and fun, and—” She paused over the sink and considered. “Mobile, I guess is the word that comes to mind.” She looked at him and grinned. “No roots.”
He frowned. “I’ve set roots in my restaurant.”
“Yes, that’s true. Though I think more metaphorically than literally there’s something wanderlust about you, and living on a boat seems fitting.” She caught the look in his eye. “Don’t get offended. I’m paying a compliment. I think it’s exciting to be with such a free spirit. Years from now I can tell my grandchildren I once had a sordid affair with a charming sailor back in my youth.”
She chuckled and Josh should have laughed with her. Her comments were innocent enough, but something about them struck a chord. He wasn’t sure he liked the label of wanderlust sailor. It didn’t fit the image he had of himself. And he knew he didn’t like the idea that someday in the future what he and Kitty were sharing would only amount to a distant memory of a sordid fling. Something about that seemed…dismissive, only when he turned it all over, he couldn’t find a single point to argue.
So maybe he had always insisted on putting his personal goals and aspirations in front of the old ball-and-chain. He’d never wanted to be saddled with responsibility he didn’t need. But did that really make him nothing more than a mere trophy on some woman’s bedpost?
The question got sideswiped when Kitty pulled off the old Broncos T-shirt she’d borrowed, displaying that sweet curvy body in all its naked glory, and reached for her bra as if she planned to get dressed.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“I’ve got to get to the store.”
He slid off the bunk, tugged the bra from her fingers and covered her breasts with his palms instead. “It’s early still.” Then he started trailing kisses from her shoulder to her ear. He’d learned over the past two weeks that it was the quickest way to get her thinking what he was thinking. And right now, going to work wasn’t the thought on his mind.
Her lips curved into a smile and she closed her eyes. Her head lolled to the side. “I suppose I don’t have to leave right this moment.”
She moaned when he moved the kisses down to her breasts. He loved how responsive she was, how every touch from his hand resonated through her and surged back through his fingertips. It was instant gratification, and it created a delicious cycle of give and take that he’d come to crave.
He lowered his voice and spoke close to her ear. “I treat you to breakfast on the river with a beautiful sunrise and flocks of ducks and egrets and this is how you repay me?”
“Well, I—” Her words faltered when he cupped his hand between her legs. “Don’t want to seem ungrateful,” she finished with a sigh.
“That’s my girl.”
Tossing off his shorts, he led her toward the bunk and crawled into the cozy space, pulling her on top of him, where she straddled his waist. She quickly took to task, pressing her lips to his chest and circling her tongue around his nipples, caressing his body with that glorious combination of touch and taste. It never got old, watching his frank and mannerly lover morph into a wanton seductress when he got her into bed. Nor had it stopped getting him rock-hard.
He ran his hands over her silky skin, tracing those curves while her gentle moves and hot kisses pumped his body to life. And when he slid a finger into her slippery heat his cock twitched and jerked with demands that it take over.
“Ohh,” she groaned. “You always know right where to touch me.”
When it came to Kitty, everywhere was the right place to touch her. But he kept that to himself, opting to let her believe he had some magic power. In reality they just made a really good team.
He reached into one of the compartments, pulled out a condom and sheathed himself, not ready to sink in yet but getting closer by the minute. Every press of her mouth, each easy stroke of that butt against his cock turned the dial up a notch until the temperature in the room reached a boil.
Grabbing her hips, he nudged her so that the length of him stroked against her clit, then he urged her to rock and massage herself against his shaft.
“That’s it, babe,” he said, holding his penis to up the pressure. “Stroke like this.”
She did, grasping his shoulders and sliding back and forth until those brown eyes darkened and her rosy cheeks flushed.
“Ooh, this is nice,” she moaned. Her long blond hair slipped over her shoulders and tickled his cheek. After a night of sex and a morning of cruising on the calm glassy water she looked tousled and mussed. Her makeup was smudged, her normally tidy hair hung haphazardly around her shoulders, and her fresh soapy scent was laced with sweat and sex. To Josh it was the ultimate turn-on, the unraveling of something pure that he wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough of.
Pulling back, she raised her hands and clasped the porthole over the bed, stretching out that long body of hers where he could watch as she moved and stroked over him. It nearly broke him, watching her go from pleasure to ecstasy to urgent as the pressure built and she reached the edge.
Her breath deepened. “Inside,” she urged.
“Not yet.” He ground his hips, upping the rhythm. “Come for me, babe.”
She moved her focus to the spot where their bodies met, taking slow and deliberate strokes and then speeding up the pace until that faint squeak began to lift from her lungs.
“It’s here,” she urged. “It’s—” But the words drowned out with her climax.
The second she came, he pulled her up and buried himself into that tight pulsing space. Her muscles squeezed and quaked, thrusting him from aroused to the edge of orgasm in only a few strokes. He began pumping hard, drawing out her pleasure as he reached his peak. She threw her head back and cried out, riding the waves as far as they would take her, pushing into him, churning over him, until everything exploded.
He came hard, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her to his chest, flipping her over on her back so he could take control. It nearly devoured him, the fierce desire and greed, the carnal ache to pillage and possess. It raked the air from his lungs and the light from his eyes, leaving him nothing to do but surrender himself as his body spilled and thrust.
He came to rest against her, his mouth pressed to her warm, sweaty cheek, his face crushed against hers and her body wrapped within his arms. Short of his heavy breath and the soft caress of his lips, his muscles were too spent to function. And yet, despite everything he’d given his mind to concentrate on, no matter how numbing this round of magnificent sex, he couldn’t stop harking back to Kitty’s comments.
Distant memory of a sordid affair, my ass.
He’d had fond recollections of women before. There were several notable evenings keeping hold in his memory banks. But his experience with Kitty overshadowed them all. And as much as it shouldn’t, he couldn’t stop being bugged by the notion that this deserved something more notable than a melancholy tale from a gray-haired lady.
This was special. And it was really, really good. The problem was he wasn’t at all prepared to deal with what it should be.