Heidi Rice - One Wild Night - Magnate's Mistress...Accidentally Pregnant! / Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress / The Good, the Bad and the Wild

Gerry’s blond good looks and petulant pout flashed into her mind. Why had she been willing to settle for someone so shallow? “Very much an ex. Thank goodness.”

“Agreed. His loss is my gain.”

Looking for a way to change the subject before Gerry could spoil her good mood, she went back to sailing. “Does the Circe go this fast?”

“We’re not going all that fast. Three or four knots, maybe. You could probably get out and run faster than this. And the Circe will go a lot faster than four knots.”

Pride filled his voice every time he mentioned the Circe. “That ship—”

“Yacht.”

“Sorry, that ‘yacht’ means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

“I’ve been wanting to buy her for a long time, so yeah, I’m pretty pleased she’s now mine. But, as you saw, she needs a lot of work. A couple of my friends came by today to work on her, in fact.”

A tiny twinge of guilt nagged at her that he’d ditched his repairs of the Circe for her. At the same time, she was very glad he had. She stretched out on the trampoline, belatedly realizing she must be getting used to sailing to want to get comfortable. Or maybe it was just the matter-of-fact way Chris handled the cat that put her at ease. The man was born to be on the water, which led her to wonder what he did when he wasn’t.

“Where’s home for you?”

Chris ran a hand down her side and over the curve of her hip, where his thumb slid under the string of her bikini bottom. “I guess you could now say it’s wherever the Circe is.”

“Really?” She hadn’t thought about that possibility. She’d just assumed…well, she wasn’t sure what she’d assumed. “But you are American. In fact, with that accent I’d say you grew up somewhere on the southern East Coast.”

“South Carolina.”

“I’m a Georgia girl myself.”

“Let me guess. Savannah.”

“You’re good.”

“At many things.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively at her, and the hand at her hip moved promisingly.

“Oh, I fully agree with that.” And she smoothed her hand across his thigh and felt the muscle jump. Chris wanted her. She reveled in the feeling; just a couple of days ago, she had believed she was a boring, plain-Jane loser magnet, but here she was. It couldn’t be real: Ally Smith, Femme Fatale. Oh, her ego definitely needed this.

Another circle of his thumb reminded her that her ego wasn’t the only needy part of her. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but she could feel them roam over her body. Even with the heat of the sun on her, she shivered.

A sail flapped and Chris cursed, reaching for the rope and quickly running it through a cleat. Ally was almost glad for the distraction; Chris’s undivided attention was a heady thing. She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the movement of the water lull her as Chris made easy conversation.

But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A bump pulled her out of her languor, and she opened her eyes just in time to see Chris jump off the boat. She sat up quickly. “What the—ouch!”

“I told you to watch out for the boom.”

Turning to find his voice, she realized the bump she’d felt had been the cat’s hulls reaching the shore. Chris gave a mighty pull, and the boat slid partially out of the water onto the sand.

“Are you okay?” Chris splashed in the shallow water to her side of the boat, his brow wrinkled in concern.

“I’m fine.”

“Then come on.” He held out a hand and pulled her into the surf with him.

The water was cool, a nice contrast to her sun-toasted skin, and clear enough to see her feet on the bottom. Chris moved into deeper water, pulling her gently along with him. She lifted her feet and held on to his arm, allowing herself to float slightly. The shoreline was empty, and no other boats had moored in the little cove. They were very much alone, an advantage Chris seemed keen to act upon as he pulled her legs around his waist. Strong hands dug into her hips as Chris’s mouth found that magic spot on her neck.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he growled. “That bikini wouldn’t adequately cover a Barbie doll. I nearly ran us aground on the sandbar.” His teeth found the string holding her top up, and untied the bow with a simple tug. The grip on her hips loosened, forcing her to grab his shoulders for support as he made quick work of the second string around her back. A second later, her pink top was floating toward shore.

“Um, Chris…”

“There’s no one here but us. No one to see you except me. And I want to see all of you.”

His lips captured hers for another mind-blowing kiss, but she felt him unhook her legs and quickly slide the bikini bottom off. Chris’s trunks bobbed to the surface as he hooked her legs around him again, but this time, no fabric separated them. She moaned at the sensation and he echoed the sound as she moved against him, wanting to feel more.

Although the bathing suit hadn’t covered much, being naked in the water was still a shock. She hadn’t been skinny-dipping since…well, ever. It was decadent and natural and intensely erotic.

Her breasts felt overly sensitized as the water lapped over them, and the position she was in offered him easy access. One arm held her firmly around her waist as his hand captured her breast, caressing it as his thumb grazed across her nipple.

“Ever made love in the ocean, Ally?”

“N-no,” she managed to wheeze.

One eyebrow arched up, and the gentle caress became more insistent. “Then I’m glad you’re open to new adventures this week.”

She hissed as his tongue swirled around her nipple before he pulled it into the heat of his mouth. Oh, yes. New adventures. Sign her up for more, as long as Chris would be her trail guide.

While the nips of his teeth drove her insane, one hand snaked between her legs to find her core. She shuddered as he teased her, his fingers urging her to the edge. How could his skin feel so hot in the cool water? A finger slid inside her, and she rocked her hips into his hand, seeking more. Chris returned the pressure, the heel of his hand hard against her as he urged her on with hot words whispered into her ear.

All she could do was hold on, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she climaxed.

Still thrumming with aftershocks, she opened her eyes to meet Chris’s deep blue stare. The intensity there rocked her, causing a rush she couldn’t identify, but she couldn’t look away.

She kissed him instead, holding his head and pressing her lips to his in an urgent need to share the feeling. Chris’s hand moved, withdrawing from her and she ached at the loss.

But it was blessedly short-lived, as Chris cupped his hands under her thighs, lifted her, and slipped easily inside. Gasping, she tightened her legs, squeezing herself against him until their bodies met. Shudders gave way to full-out tremors as he filled her.

Her senses seemed to sharpen, bringing everything into focus—the gentle lapping of the water against their skin, the waves landing on the beach behind her, the warm rays of the sun on her back and shoulders, the throb of Chris inside her, the rapid pounding of her heart, the sounds of their ragged breathing.

Then Chris started to move, holding and guiding her, and her focus narrowed. Nothing existed except this man and the pleasure rapidly peaking inside her. She trusted him to take her all the way, to hold her, please her and not let her drown, so she let herself go, chanting his name in rhythm to his thrusts. As she shattered, she felt Chris pull her close. A moment later, he held her hips tightly against him as powerful shudders moved under her fingers.