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NautiCal (Forever Wilde 8)

Page 17

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But that’s not what happened.

At some point I must have fallen asleep, because I awoke in the morning wrapped around Cal Wilde like a very possessive boa constrictor. His face was mashed into my chest, and our legs were tangled together like pretzels. Every breath I took was scented with the combination of his sleepy skin and the faint traces of my shower gel. At first, I thought I was still asleep and dreaming, but when Cal arched his morning wood into my upper thigh, I knew I was very much awake.

And I realized inviting this tempting man to stay on board with me this week was going to be more challenging than I’d expected.

5

Cal

I wanted to cling on to the dream a little longer. Worth was a pirate, and he was about to do something very, very naughty to my booty. But when I realized we were no longer on a creaky, triple-masted ship, I catapulted out of the bed so fast, I hit the wall and bounced right back onto the bed, mildly stunned.

“What just happened?” Worth sat up and shot me a look of confusion mixed with annoyance.

I rubbed the lump on my forehead with my fingers while my cheeks heated in embarrassment. “It’s like a gymnastics dismount. I was trying to impress you.”

Worth’s eyes lowered to my very obvious erection tenting out the pajama pants I’d borrowed. “Can’t say I’m all that impressed,” he teased, making my cheeks heat even more.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, standing up again and making my way to the bathroom. I wondered if he’d let me borrow some shorts and a T-shirt just long enough for me to duck over to the marina shops and pick up some basics.

I brushed my teeth and washed my face, stalling in my morning hygiene routine in hopes he’d be gone by the time I came back out. No such luck. Worth was exactly where I’d left him, and of course he looked sexy as fuck in the rumpled sheets. The imprint of his arms and legs still lingered on my skin, but I refused to acknowledge it.

“Your turn,” I said, plastering on the chipper face of someone who hadn’t just thrown himself face-first into a wall after clinging to the man like one of those stickers on produce that refuses to budge.

“I put some clothes over there for you,” he said, gesturing to the sofa. “Feel free to head up to the galley for breakfast. Julo makes banana dumplings you don’t want to miss.”

As he walked over to the bathroom, I couldn’t help but stare at Worth’s muscular legs. He had the calves of a cyclist even though he’d mentioned living in Chicago. I wondered if he went to spinning classes in some posh boutique spin gym or if he was rich enough to have his own spin bike in a special gym in his house or apartment.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled the clothes on. Of course he was rich enough to own an exercise bike for god’s sake. The bedding in this room alone was probably worth more than a fancy Peloton bike.

Hopefully there would be strong coffee waiting for me when I got upstairs. I was sick and tired of thinking about Jonathan Worthington, and I needed some caffeine to help me make a plan for the day. I also needed to call Doc and Grandpa at some point and let them know I’d gotten another job and would be staying down here a little longer.

After changing into the clothes and mentally thanking Worth for picking a pair of athletic shorts with a drawstring for my skinny ass, I grabbed my phone and headed up to the galley. It was still early. As soon as I got to the top of the stairs and had a view outside, I saw the light, rosy pink remnants of sunrise. It was probably around half past six which was my usual waking time when working on a boat, but I wondered if Worth was still on Chicago time and feeling the effects of the hour difference.

Stop thinking about Worth.

I bit back a groan of frustration. I didn’t need a man to fuck. I needed a job, an excuse to stay down here and away from Hobie as long as possible.

A tall man with a thick ponytail of dreads and a big, friendly smile greeted me in the galley. Soft steel drum music played from somewhere nearby, and the warm breeze crossed through the room from all of the glass walls that were now open to the outside. “You must be Cal. I’m Julo. What’re you hungry for this early morning?”

He had an island lilt to his voice that helped me relax. When I’d first moved to the Caribbean, it had taken me a while to slow down and stop taking myself so seriously. Being around so many laid-back locals had helped a ton.


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