Ford must sense my rising need, because he breaks the kiss. Trails his mouth down my jaw to my throat. He presses a lingering kiss there, nipping at my skin with his teeth. I inhale sharply, the firm points of my nipples ringing with a new shock of sensation.
“Let’s get back on the boat,” he murmurs, his thumb working a lazy circle on the back of my neck. “I want to see you. Then I wanna make you come.”
I’m so turned on—my brain so muddled—I can barely form a coherent reply. So I go with something lame.
“I’m cool with that.” My voice shakes. Not with fear but with need.
My legs shake, too, as I breast-stroke to the boat. Ford stays half a length behind me. Ever the protector.
He pulls down the ladder, and I feel his eyes on me as I hoist myself up onto the boat.
I keep my eyes on him as he pulls himself up, the boat ducking beneath his weight. He never was a small guy.
I just stare.
Arm muscles that bulge against tattooed skin. I notice an especially appealing vein that snakes up his forearm to his bicep.
Water sluicing down the barrel of his chest, the flat, firm slope of his belly.
The way he runs a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back.
The very obvious erection tenting his board shorts. The fabric is plastered to his considerable length, leaving little to the imagination.
My mouth waters.
My pussy throbs.
He looks up from shaking the water off his legs and drinks me in. This heated, appreciative, downright worshipful perusal from head to toe and back again. Eyes catching on my tits. Then my face.
His Adam’s apple bobs.
“You’re just right,” he says roughly. “Eva, you are so damn right, baby.”
My hand moves to the tie at my hip holding my bottoms together. “Dare me?”
He glances out over the water. “What if someone passes by? Sees us? Let’s go below deck—there’s a bed down there—”
“What if they do? See us? So what?”
Ford’s eyes move to my tits again. “What if I want you all to myself?”
I give the string a tug. I move to the other hip and tug the knot loose there, too.
My bathing suit falls in a stringy pile at my feet.
“I’m all yours, Ford.”
His gaze rakes down my body to land on my pussy. I don’t wax, but I do trim and shave. Today I chose a fun little landing strip, just in case something like this went down.
Judging by Ford’s reaction, he does not mind it. Not one bit. His nostrils flare. Eyes wild, a little unfocused.
He looks back up. Looks at me for a long beat. Chest rising and falling as he gulps for air.
“You said you needed to have more fun.” I reach down and nudge my lips open with my first finger. “So let’s have some fun. I promise it will be okay.”
“Jesus Christ, Eva.” He spears a hand through his hair. Then: “Fuck it.”
He lunges toward me.
Literally lunges. The sinews in his neck and shoulders pulled taut as he comes for me. I laugh. A laugh that catches when my finger meets with my clit.
Without preamble, he grabs the backs of my thighs in his enormous hands and lifts me, tossing me onto—I don’t know what it is, some kind of raised platform, a sunbathing deck maybe. This boat is even more ridiculous than I thought.
We’re in direct sun, which Ford blocks with the bulk of his body when he moves to stand between my legs. I’m lying flat on my back, helpless, while he towers over me. Drops of water drip from his torso onto my legs.
The vinyl is hot against my skin. A burn that heightens the one in my core.
Ford runs his hands up my sides, sensation rippling through me at his touch. Gathering my breasts in his hands, he gives them a firm caress. Gathers my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and rolls them. Plucks them. Plays with them just the way I like, making my clit pulse.
“Ford,” I breathe, reaching for him. “Yeah. Yes. This, all day long.”
His lips twitch as he flicks the pads of his thumbs over my nipples. Eyes on mine, witness to my rising need.
“You hold nothing back,” he says. “Ever. I like that about you, baby. So much.”
I run my fingers up his arm. He’s hard everywhere. Strength and certainty mixed with this cocky calm I find incredibly arousing.
Leaning down, he kisses my mouth. Then he trails his lips down my throat, nicking me with his teeth along the way, until he takes one nipple, then the other, into his mouth. Patiently sipping each one to an aching point. His scruff catching on my skin.
I arch against him. Fingers gliding into his wet hair.
He reaches for my knees and bends them, guiding them up to my chest. Spreading me open.