The Skipper & the Billionaire Playboy

She was annoyed to find herself powerless to resist as she leaned closer to him. “That was Timothy Wynndt. He’s a former competitor for the Louis Vuitton Cup, and he crewed on a team that almost won the America’s Cup. He has the right connections and insight to help build my racing team and get my own my dream off the ground.”

He sighed, frowning. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t like his hands on you.”

“His hands?” She was trying to remember when Timothy had ever touched her, only vaguely recalling his hand on her shoulder once or twice. It hadn’t seemed flirtatious at the time, and she shook her head. “You’re imagining things, and you have no right either way. We’re not in a relationship.”

“That’s crap.”

Suddenly, his mouth was over hers, ravishing her in a combination of anger and lust that fueled her own. She raked her hands through his hair and pulled sharply, and his growl of discomfort only fueled her need. They were angry with each other, and it showed as they frantically tugged at clothes and joined together in a passionate embrace underscored with acrimony.

He pushed her dress up to her waist, somehow getting the tight-fitting skirt to cooperate, as she was fumbling with his trousers. The buttons refused to yield, and she by some means held back the urge to just rip them open. Finally, they yielded to her, and she shoved his pants down along with his briefs to free his erection. He flipped positions so she was against the wall, using it for support and also to hold her there.

She snaked her thigh around his waist to open up to him as his cock nudged the slick opening of her pussy. He surged inside her, and she screeched. It wasn’t painful, but she was still angry. She’d never felt this anger-driven lust before, and the frantic need to have him inside her warred with her desire to push him away.

They had sex at a frantic, angry pace, with jerky and distorted motions. As he came, his spasms triggered her own climax, which was physically satisfying, but emotionally hollow.

Afterward, he pulled away from her just enough to disengage their bodies before he laid his forehead against the wall, tipping it slightly so he could look at her.

For a long moment, she stared ahead, determined not to break. Her resolve softened when he brushed his knuckles slightly down her cheek before pressing a kiss to her shoulder and whispering, “I’m sorry.”

She turned to look at him, still not speaking as their eyes locked.

“I was jealous. I didn’t like seeing his hands on you, and I didn’t like how you were talking to him so animatedly. You don’t talk to me like that, and I wanted you to. Instead of speaking to you rationally, I overreacted and behaved like a territorial male pissing all over the place. I’m sorry,” he said again.

She nodded stiffly, feeling the last of her anger dissipate. “Why are you jealous? We don’t have a relationship.”

He shook his head, his forehead brushing against the wall as he did so. “That’s not true.” His tone lacked heat, but was rich with frustration. “I don’t know what we have, Nadia, but this isn’t the casual fling that I’m used to. I want more with you. I don’t know what that is, or what it entails even, but I’d like the chance to find out. I feel…something deeper for you.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, hesitating. Part of her urged refusal or outright rejection of his words. She didn’t want to want him, and she didn’t want to want a deeper relationship with him. She certainly didn’t want to admit she was feeling more than just sexual feelings for him either.

Nadia didn’t like the idea of surrendering that much control, but she was inherently honest, and she finally nodded. “You’re right. This is more than just sex.”

He sighed softly, looking relieved. “I promise I’ll smooth things over with Timothy, but would you consider giving me more time?”

Nadia frowned. “The party can’t be going on much longer, Sawyer.”

He smiled, even as he shook his head. “No, I meant more time in our relationship, and more time here in San Francisco? Would you consider extending our stay for a bit as we explore what’s between us? We both know once we leave here, we’re going separate ways, and I’m not ready for that to happen yet.”

She should have panicked at the idea of delaying her dreams even by a few days, but calmness filled her instead. It was edged with a little excitement even, though she cautioned herself not to expect too much or open to fully to Sawyer. He was revealing a new side of himself, but she didn’t really believe he had it in him to be monogamous and in a long-term relationship.

Since that was the only kind she would consider in light of how it would affect her dream of racing, it seemed doomed to fail. Still, she supposed they owed it to each other to make sure this was nothing more than a temporary anomaly in their carefully laid plans. “Let’s play it by ear.”

He relaxed, his body pressing more firmly against hers as he kissed her on the cheek before kissing her lips.

When he would have deepened the kiss, she pushed him away. “None of that right now. You have to track down Timothy Wynndt and fix the impression that you’re a possessive boyfriend.”

He grinned. “I have a feeling I could be very possessive of you, but I’ll try to rein in the caveman tactics from now on, Nadia. We’ll talk more about us later, but I need to go track down your other man now.”

Her lips twitched, and she rolled her eyes. He was hardly her other man. With Sawyer around, she couldn’t imagine trying to juggle two men in a romantic fashion. The one in front of her was more than any woman could handle easily, and he provided more than enough challenge for her—and she usually thrived on challenge.

Chapter Eight

Harold took the news of their extended stay with a dignified nod of his head, though Caitlin and Kiersten weren’t so subtle. Nadia had to fight back a smile at the two women exchanging conspiratorial winks and satisfied grins. Bless their matchmaking hearts.

After their breakfast, Sawyer took her into the city. Nadia had been to San Francisco a time or two, but she had never played tourist before. They started with the Ghirardelli store in Union Square before hailing a pedi-cab to take them to the pier.

It was like being home again as they strolled down the waterfront, the waters of the bay lapping gentl

y against the barrier. It was natural to twine her fingers through his, and they held hands as they walked. When they stopped for lunch, it was the first time they let go of each other, and as soon as they had eaten their delicious seafood, he took her hand again upon exiting the restaurant. She could get used to this.