Roxanne St. Claire - Make Her Pay

He pushed himself against her. He could get hard again. Maybe.

“Can’t I just stay?” she singsonged.

For about twenty minutes. “What would Dave say when he saw you in the morning?”

She propped up on an elbow. “He’d say, ‘Lucky Flynn Paxton, gettin’ it on with the hottest diver in the business.’ ”

That made him smile. He liked her ego, and the fact that he was the beneficiary of her very active libido on this dive. He’d heard enough rumors to know someone on board always got a piece of Alita.

“Honey, I need this to be a secret.” Because Judd the Dud would have his ass for screwing the help. “Otherwise no one will talk to you, and there is some nasty shit going on over there and you are my…” He ran his hand over her rear, then worked his way up. “Conduit.”

“Nasty?” She launched up. “ You’re the one who took the medallion. It really wasn’t fair to set Con up like that. He’s a nice guy.”

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t split the cash with you. I will.” He gave her boob a quick massage. “And just in case you’re getting all creamy down below over him, he’s already giving it to Lizzie, so forget it.”

She jerked back and threw the covers off. “You really can be a prick, you know that?”

“You like my prick.”

She blew out a breath and stood up. “You totally don’t get it, Flynn.”

“Get what?”

“I have feelings, too.” Grabbing her underpants, she stepped in, hopping a little on one leg, then the other, making her boobs bounce.

“I’m teasing. Come on back to bed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Precisely.” He rolled closer and reached for the lace edge of her panties. “I’ll row you home. I promise.”

She snapped out of his touch, then jerked toward the porthole. “What was that?”

“What?”

“That flash.”

“Lightning?”

She gave him a look like he was crazy. “That. Did you see that?”

He did, and it wasn’t lightning. He bounded off the bed out to the salon, onto the deck just as it flashed again.

“Motherfucker,” he mumbled. “Someone’s out there. Taking pictures of our boat and location. Shit.”

Alita was next to him in a second. “I don’t see a boat. It’s pitch-black.”

“Someone’s found us.” His stomach rolled. If their location got out, Judd would be down here in a heartbeat. That’d screw up everything.

On the other hand, he already had a buyer for the medallion, and this gig was going to be up soon.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

Do? Why the fuck did he have to do anything? Because he was the company manager on the dive and had to do something. Or act like he was.

He puffed his chest up with a deep inhale. “I’m going over to the boat.”

“They could be pirates.”

Jesus. “They could be poachers. Or someone from the state trying to figure out what we’re doing here.” Or, he hoped, some ambitious fisherman he could scare off. If not, he’d avoid them altogether. “You stay here. No one knows you’re here. Just get back in bed and stay low. I’ll check it out.”

“Are you sure?” She looked up at him, a little of the admiration he wanted to see back in her eyes.

“Of course I’m sure.” He headed back to the stateroom, on the way glancing at the cabinet where he’d hidden the medallion before she showed up. That had to go tomorrow.

He dressed, counting three more flashes. Feeling protective and strong, he gave her a kiss and headed out, climbing into the motorized raft that he hoped would make enough noise to scare them off. He moved very slowly, taking his time to close the hundred and fifty feet between his boat and the Gold Digger .

The whole time, there were no more flashes. Approaching the boat head-on to the stern, he went around the starboard side, even though he thought the flash had come from the port side. Slowly, he cruised alongside of the vessel, which looked completely still and dark. When he got back to the stern, he braced himself, but saw nothing. A few of the rafts tied up. The deck quiet. The starboard side looking completely calm.

Could it have been lightning?

He continued around the boat, reaching back with one hand to steer the raft, the motor puttering softly. Suddenly he saw some movement on the deck.

“Flynn?” a woman’s voice called.

“Is that you, Lizzie?”

“What are you doing out there?” she asked.

“I thought I saw some flashes. Thought someone was taking pictures of our location and I came to investigate.”

“Really? I didn’t see anything and I’ve been out here for a while. Maybe you imagined it.”

No, he didn’t imagine it, and he had Alita as a witness. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. He maneuvered around as she aimed a flashlight onto the water.

“There’s no one here.” The sea was indeed empty as far as the beam of light showed. She swiped over the water, all the way to the black horizon. Nothing.

“That’s strange,” he said. “Are you sure no one boarded?”

“Absolutely. I’ve been sitting out here for a while now. Can’t sleep.”

Would she be out there taking pictures? No, that didn’t make sense. “Well, you ought to,” he said, working the raft around. “You have to dive tomorrow morning.”

“I know. I was just on my way to my cabin when I heard the motor.”

“I’ll check out the rest of the perimeter of the boat,” he said, sounding brave, and actually feeling that way now.

“All right. G’night.” She disappeared into the shadows of the deck, and he took a few more minutes to circle the whole boat again.

By the time he tied up the raft to his cabin cruiser, he was wide awake and ready for sex. Feeling heroic, strong, and ready for another round, he bounded back to the stateroom, hard for Alita.

She must have liked his heroics since she barely asked any questions, fucked him for a good half hour, then dressed and left, a happy little camper.

Life was good, and he’d soon be a couple hundred grand richer. Screwing Judd the Dud had become his favorite pastime.

CON HOISTED HIMSELF up over the dive platform, not even shivering, although he had to be freezing without a wet suit, even that short distance. Lizzie stepped out of the shadows, searching to see if he had anything in his hands. If he managed to find that medallion, then she was certain she’d picked the right man for the job.

“Did you get it?” she asked, slipping down to the dive platform.

He lifted his hand.

Oh, yes. The absolute right man. She wanted to reach for the medallion, but she couldn’t resist getting closer to him, feeling the waves of cold from his skin, and flattening her hands on his bare chest. She knew how much that kind of cold hurt, but he didn’t seem fazed, except to let out a soft grunt when her hands made contact.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, moving her back into the darkest part of the deck and toward the stairs. “My cabin. Now.”

She kept up with his long strides back to his cabin, him dripping water from his bathing suit and body, but still not giving in to what she knew had to be the urge to just shudder with the bone-deep chill of swimming in the ocean on a November night. He unlocked the hatch and nudged her in without a word.

“Let me see-”

He yanked her right into his chest, pulling out a shocked breath from her, his flesh cold even through the thickness of her fleece sweatshirt.

“God, you’re warm.” He nearly moaned the words, squeezing her tighter.

She understood instantly and obliged by wrapping her arms around him, rubbing her hands over the hard muscles of his back. She’d dived without a wet suit before, and human contact was like heaven to the whole body.