Jake (18 page)

              “Yes.” Her throat was husky from lack of use.

              She slid her hand beneath his on her leg, weaving their fingers together. He gave hers a squeeze and signaled for the waitress.

              The waitress came and placed their meals before them. She topped off Jake’s cup and brought a fresh one for Ivy. They had ordered breakfast for lunch at a little diner close enough to the ocean that the air outside was salty. From the window, Ivy gazed at the wide expanse of sky, at the palm trees that spiraled upward, each one standing alone and its fronds lifting in the breeze.

              Jake removed his hand from her thigh and picked up his utensils. And she missed his touch, felt bereft without it.  Though there were mere inches between them, though she felt his body heat and his elbow brushed against hers when he moved, he was really miles away.

              “Eat Ivy, please.” His voice was somber. Not lacking his usual confidence, but definitely subdued. And she was beginning to regret her earlier triumph. It had been a powerful moment for her. And gratifying. She had wanted to please him and she had, but at what cost?  Was it too much? Would a relationship with her require more than he wanted to give?

              She met his gaze and opened her mouth to speak, but he laid a finger over her lips.

              “We need to talk,” he agreed. “Just not yet, okay?”

              She wanted to grant his request, but the silences were killing her. “Could we talk about something else then?” And when doubt clouded his expression she added, “Anything else?”

              He thought about it, his blue eyes roaming her face.

              “You want to pet tiger sharks tomorrow?” he asked.

              He was thinking beyond today.  And he was reaching out to her. He understood she needed that and it made the heaviness in her heart increase. Why couldn’t she do the same for him? He’d set boundaries and she’d pushed him beyond them. Jake’s discipline ran deep. He relied on it. Why did she equate it with emotional distance? Maybe she was still more insecure than she wanted to believe. And that depressed her.

              “Hey,” he called to her softly and traced a finger down her cheek to regain her attention. “They don’t bite.”

              His smile held none of the wicked intent she’d gotten used to seeing, but it was confident and reassuring and Ivy appreciate that. She felt her shoulders relax. The churning in her stomach eased.

              “You want to take that kayak tour? Sure.” She didn’t have to be to work until seven. They could spend the whole day playing and she wouldn’t once challenge his resolve.

              “I’ll wear a granny swimsuit,” she promised. She had no idea where she’d find one, but she was thinking something along the lines of a one piece with a full skirt that covered her legs and a fitted top that revealed no cleavage and offered no possibility of an accidental flashing.

              Jake laughed. It was surprising, but reached his eyes and shattered the heaviness that had surrounded them. “You will not. I want to see you in that black bikini.”

              Well, she definitely wasn’t going to wear it. It would be like taunting Jake. And it would be hard on her as well. She felt incredibly sexy when she wore it and she would spend the whole day wanting Jake’s hands on her. And his mouth. His teeth. His tongue. Damn, she still quaked inside when she thought about their earlier coupling.

              “No,” she said. “It’s the one piece.” Maybe the tankini.

              “Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what you wear. Your sexiness will shine through.” He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. And this time, when he brought their hands down, he placed hers on his thigh and kept it there with the warmth of his own. “I’ll want you anytime, anywhere, any way I can have you.”

              The timber of his voice changed, grew deeper.

              “I don’t want to push you, Jake.”

              He shook his head. “What happened this morning, that’s on me, Ivy.” He smiled, but it wasn’t without a hint of regret. “You rock my world.”

              “That’s supposed to be a good thing,” she pointed out.

              “Until it’s not.”

              “Because you’re afraid of the consequences,” she puzzled out. He associated the thrill-seeking rush he’d chased as a teen with the intensity they shared between the sheets. She said as much.

              “It’s the same kind of crazy,” he agreed.

              “And living without discipline, people get hurt.”

              So it wasn’t just the intimacy—the staring into each other’s soul that Ivy had experienced with Jake that morning.

              “Did I hurt you, Ivy?”

              “You know you didn’t.”

              “I know it now.”
But not in the moment
. She read his thoughts clearly in his tone. “A man can come, and it can be pleasurable, without losing his hold on the present.”

              “That’s sad.” And the way he said pleasurable made Ivy think of tepid water and soft ice cream. She wanted no part of either.

              “It’s control.”

              “Don’t you think, if it ever came to that and you lost control, that I would say something?

That you would stop as soon as you realized you were too rough?”

              “I’ve never had a blinding orgasm. Until today. I didn’t see you. I didn’t hear you. I was consumed with feeling. Driven by the need to climax. I saw to my needs and completely forgot about yours.”

              “You’d already taken care of me,” she insisted.  “And maybe that’s why you let yourself accept what I was offering.”

              “I didn’t
let
myself,” he corrected. “That’s just it, Ivy. Passion took over.”

              “And you discovered that you’re not a wild beast under its spell,” she pointed out.

              His face got a distant, impassive look on it. “You naturally want to assume the best about people.”

              “Not really,” she countered. “Don’t you think I probably lost my faith in men, after what I went through with my ex? It’s hard for me to trust. But I do trust you, Jake. I trust you because I know you would never harm me. I
know
it.” She wanted him to see himself as she did. So she changed tactics. “What do you know about me, Jake?”

              His gaze on her face softened. “You’re strong, sometimes to the point of stubbornness.” His smile took the sting out of his words. “You’re compassionate and generous and you think nothing of putting the needs of others above your own. You’re bold and feisty. Demanding and impatient. You’re a fighter, when you believe in the cause. You’re a woman of action, preferring to work on a solution rather than dwell on circumstances. You’re sexy, hot, and drive me crazy.”

              Ivy picked among the attributes he’d come up with for the ones that would serve her best. “So I’m strong enough to get your attention if I need it,” she said. “I’m bold enough to want all of you when we come together. I’m demanding, so that I’ll accept nothing less. And I’m a fighter, so if need be, I’ll kick your ass.”

              Jake nearly choked on his sip of coffee. His laughter was short but deep and Ivy answered it was a saucy smile.

              “That’s my feisty,” she said.

              “Yes,” he agreed, as he leaned into her space and placed a warm kiss against her lips. When he drew back she said, “You need to trust yourself, Jake. But you need to trust me, too. I’m not a helpless female.”

              “I know that.” She could tell he was considering her words, because his face lightened and he said, “That was the first thing I knew about you, after the sexy.”

              He’d found her on the side of the road, gearing up for a run back into civilization. He’d found her half-dressed. And she had behaved as if she could take him or leave him. Maybe she should add foolish to her list of traits—Jake was definitely a taker.

              He slid her plate closer to her and urged, “Eat. We have a long night ahead of us.” But his tone had changed. He was no longer morose, but contemplative. “I’m going to do my best to dance with you, Ivy, without turning it into foreplay.”

              And Jake succeeded. Almost. They boarded the boat at six o’clock and enjoyed an open bar and appetizers while they got underway. Ivy wore a red halter sundress that was skimpy enough she wasn’t able to wear a bra, but had enough material it preserved her modesty.

              “Lovely,” Jake had told her. He’d stepped close to her and ran a finger down her shoulder and along the edge of the halter, dipping inside the material to stroke the side of her breast. “And tempting.” She had left her dark hair long and he had tunneled his hand through it, holding her head as his lips opened over hers in a kiss that was claiming and hot and Ivy felt his erection stir against her belly.

              “You’re going to have to harness that,” she’d told him. They would be on the boat five hours and while it was a luxury dining cruise, the vessel offered no sleeping accommodations. She had, however, prepared for that in the event there was an emergency. And the thought made her smile. She had no intention of telling Jake what she was wearing under her dress. She’d let him discover that on his own.

              “No problem,” he’d said and there was a gravity to his voice that told Ivy he had built up his self control, which only made her think about ways she could pull it apart.

              She’d rolled to her toes and whispered against his lips, “Oh, it might be a problem, soldier. You have no idea what I have planned.”

              But she remained on her best behavior. Jake enjoyed a beer while Ivy sipped at a glass of wine. They stood on deck, looking out over the Bay, and held hands. They talked more about their childhoods, each of them reaching deep for happy memories that included tales of daring do as well as sibling rivalry and camaraderie. They danced to a live string band, their legs brushing against each other’s, Ivy’s breasts grazing his powerful chest. But she did nothing to increase their physical connection. Occasionally, Jake’s hand swept from her shoulder to the dip in her waist and her body responded with a shudder. When he pulled her close at the end of a song and held her hips against the cradle of his thighs, she gazed into his eyes and saw a sleepy arousal building in him. She let her leg slip between his, her thigh teasing his growing shaft. His hand tightened to slow her movement and she asked him,

              “You feel any pantie lines, Jake?”

              His palm flattened against her hip, his fingers curving over her cheek, and his eyes flared.

              “You’re not wearing underwear?”

              “I’m wearing something,” she promised. Something that was made of the finest silk, but very little of it.

              He growled low in his throat and his hands tightened reflexively, pulling her closer so that only breath existed between them.

              The bathrooms were about the same size as what you’d find on an airplane. They stepped into one, Jake bumping her from behind as he closed and locked the door. His cock nestled into the cheeks of her ass and she wiggled against him. He pulled her tightly to him and pumped his hips so that she felt him grow even larger. His hands skimmed from her hips, over her belly, and into the valley of sweet skin exposed by the deep V of her halter.

              “This dress has been driving me crazy all night,” he complained.

              “Touch me, Jake.”

              She moved his hands to her breasts and he cupped her through the material. Her nipples peaked and she squirmed. She felt Jake’s body tense. His breath hissed in his throat.

              “Look,” he said. “Watch me.”

              He turned her head and she lifted her eyelids. A mirror. Jake’s hands peel back the red material covering a breast and it slipped out, bouncing deliciously in his hand. She felt his breath change, his chest expand deeply. His thumbed her nipple and lowered his mouth to her neck where he nibbled delicately at her sensitive flesh. A coil tightened inside her, from breast to womb. It tickled her clit and she shifted to try and ease the pressure. It didn’t help.

              “Jake,” she whimpered. “I want you inside me.”

              “That’s going to take a miracle of flexibility,” he said, but he shifted his hands, sweeping them down her body and bringing them up under her dress.

              She could feel herself, swollen and wet. Her legs trembled and where he touched he left a trail of fire. She tipped her head back, using his shoulder as a pillow, and watched his face in the mirror as he caressed her thighs. His expression was taut, his mouth opened at her temple and he breathed softly against her ear. She bucked against him, wanting to hold his erection in her hand, but she settled for grabbing his tight rear and stroking him with the curve of her ass.

              His body shuddered. His eyes closed. And his hands pushed against her thighs. She spread them, giving him access. His fingertips caressed along the band of her silk panties and his eyes found hers in the mirror.

              “You are wearing panties,” he murmured.

              “Kind of.” Secrets gleamed in her eyes. It urged him on. He slipped his fingers into her crotch, following the silk path until it ended abruptly and he was touching her downy curls. His eyes flared. “More,” she said. He dipped his fingers lower, into her slick folds, and watched her in the mirror. She gasped and threw her head back and his face flushed. He circled her clit, and then stroked down and deep as one and then two fingers entered her core. She whimpered then and he hitched her up against his hips so he could have deeper access. “Jake, now.”

              “Come for me, Ivy. Like this.”

              “I’ll come when you’re inside me.”

              But he shook his head. “You’ll come now.” He increased the pressure of his fingers, swirling them and using his thumb against her clit. She bucked and tried to reach for the fastening of his slacks. She managed to get the fly open before she lost all concentration. She came and it was a spectacular shattering of tension.