Her body moves in response, and I hold her tighter. We only breathe into each other for a few quiet moments.
Finally, she whispers. “You should give me what I want.”
Lifting my chin, I kiss her jawline into her hair, savoring our ability to come together so spectacularly. “Baby, I’ll give you everything you want.”
Reaching for my hands, she laces our fingers and inhales deeply. Then she turns in so her back is against my chest. I spoon her, holding her tightly around the waist. Her hands are firm against my arms, and we drift.
* * *
We’ve been naked for almost twenty-four hours. Yesterday was a haze of lovemaking, drinking more wine, talking, feeding each other chicken salad for dinner, more fucking, more wine, cold pizza, skinny-dipping once the sun set, more fucking... finally we collapsed to sleep all night, only to wake up and start all over.
Now Amy’s lying on her back in the bed, looking up at the ceiling. I’m watching her from where I’m cooking us eggs for breakfast, wondering if it’s possible for us to never leave this boat.
“Some people sell all their belongings and just sail full time,” I say absently. It’s not something I’d do, but the idea has always fascinated me, even more so now.
“What do they do for food?” She rolls onto her side, head on her hand watching me, morning light shimmering in her hair. It takes me a moment to remember what I said.
“Oh, I suppose they keep some money in the bank.”
Slipping out of the bed, she picks up my blue shirt and pulls it over her naked body, buttoning the two center buttons. Then she takes a band and ties her hair up in a high ponytail. I’m trying to figure out how everything she does is so supremely sexy.
“But eventually that would run out.” She drops a pod into the coffee machine and slides a mug in place. “So they must work somewhere.”
The eggs are cooked, toast popped. I prepare two plates and hand her one. “You’re right.” I smile, watching as she blinks up at me. “But I bet finding jobs around the islands is pretty easy.”
Going to the table, she picks up the napkin that yesterday served as a blindfold. I’ll never look at it the same way again.
“The ultimate freedom. I bet...” She slips into the booth and takes a bite of egg. “Mm—this is good!”
“Thanks,” I grin at her surprise. “I’ve been cooking for years.”
“Oh, right. Because of your mom.”
Guilt flashes across her face, and I quickly squash it. “I actually enjoy cooking, so win-win. Now finish what you were saying. You bet...?”
She leans back and sips her coffee. “I was just thinking I bet you start to know people, build a network.”
“Always thinking like a marketer.” She blinks at me over the rim of her cup, and it’s too much. I look around the cabin. “Where’s that camera?”
“You want to see your pictures?”
“No.” Standing slightly, I lean over and pick it up, turning the lens on her. “I want to photograph you.”
“Marcus!” She holds a palm out in front of her face. “I look terrible. I’m all... mussed.”
“You’re fucking sexy. I want to preserve this image.”
Slapping her hand on the side of her seat, she leans forward and makes a cross-eyed face. Click-click! The camera goes off fast. Her eyes narrow, and she sits back. “It’s my camera. You’re not preserving anything for you.”
“Maybe I want to watch you through the peep hole.”
“It’s called a view finder.”
“Don’t be so technical.” Leaning to the side, I glance down at her breasts. “Give us a little something for the boys at home.”
Her eyes narrow back at me. “What boys at home?”
“This boy at home. Don’t be a prude.”