Page 32 of Ruining His Smirk

Garrett

The Zodiac surged away from the polar research ship. The moment the driver of the Zodiac opened the throttle, the small rubber boat settled backward under the force, with its bow pitched high and its stern riding low. Every muscle in my body went rigid. I had been assigned a seat at the stern. I wrapped both gloved hands around the rigid tube on either side of me, holding on for dear life.

I had forgotten this part. I had been on a Zodiac years before, but I no longer remembered how small and fast they were or how low they sat in the water. The thing rode barely above the surface. That sense of exposure had faded from my memory.

Cold spray feathered over the side. Only a few droplets reached me, striking my cheek and speckling the front of my bright red life jacket, but they were cold enough to sting. I tightened my grip and glanced warily at the Antarctic waterstreaming past only inches below my elbow—close enough that I could have leaned over and dragged my fingertips through it.

I knew why scientists loved the damned contraptions. They could work at water level instead of peering down from the deck of a proper vessel. They could move between drifting pieces of ice, get close to a dozing seal, and if they had to dive, they could just flip over the side of the boat.

I turned carefully and looked behind. The second Zodiac followed several yards back, carving through our wake. Dexter sat among the scientists aboard it, bundled in his gear and grinning widely.

The second he saw me looking, he flung one arm into the air and started waving with an enthusiasm that I thought bordered on insanity. I looked down at my hands.

No.

Absolutely not.

I was not releasing my hold on the boat for the sake of brotherly affection. I pulled my mouth into what I hoped passed for a smile, gave him the smallest nod I could manage, and turned back toward the bow before he expected anything more ambitious.

I wasn’t terrified. Not really. I simply had no intention of releasing either hand unless somebody gave me a direct order, and even then I planned to question the wisdom of it.

At the motor, the driver steered us farther from the ship and braced easily against the movement as though handling the Zodiac were no more troublesome than riding a horse across the ranch.

There were four of us aboard: the crewman at the motor, Braddock, his crewmate and diver Keith, and me. Braddock and Keith stood in the middle of the boat with their feet planted wide, completely at ease with the way the Zodiac climbed,dipped, and slapped against the water beneath us. I would have landed flat on my face in no time.

Both men wore thick black diving suits that fit close from throat to ankle. They spoke with the calm concentration of men following a routine they had performed dozens of times. Keith stood with his back to me while Braddock faced him, which meant Braddock was facing me.

I couldn’t help noticing how the material traced every line of muscle on Braddock’s lithe body, without leaving much to the imagination. He had long, lean thighs, but there was nothing delicate about them. Even through the diving suit, I could see the strength in the way he held himself against the constant rise and fall of the Zodiac, his legs absorbing every shift of the boat without conscious effort.

His waist was narrower than I had realized. What would it feel like to put both hands around it, drag him towards me, and impale him on my hard cock? I could nearly imagine the solid heat of his body under my palms, the way my fingers would dig into his sides, and he would…

As if he had heard my thoughts, Braddock suddenly looked past Keith and caught me staring.

Shit. I looked away quickly but not before I caught him frowning at me.

He stepped around Keith and crossed the short distance between us. I ignored him, clutching the boat tightly. Maybe he had some tools in the back. But no. He stopped right in front of me.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”

I nodded, trying to look unbothered.

“Is there something I should know?”

I shook my head. For a moment, he only studied me. Then he lowered himself onto the floor of the Zodiac in front of me,one knee down and the other raised, bracing an elbow across his thigh. The position brought us almost eye to eye.

I felt annoyed. Couldn’t he let me breathe for a second? Wasn’t he supposed to be doing his job instead of trying to take another jab at me?

Braddock leaned forward, close enough that when he spoke, his voice reached me beneath the engine without carrying to the other two men.

“How about you sit up there?”

I blinked in confusion.

He nodded toward the bow, where the Zodiac rode higher above the water. I followed his gaze. “The spray’s lighter toward the front,” he added.

I looked back at him. Did he… somehow know about my fear? Or had he picked that up entirely on his own? Dexter would never tell, so it had to be the latter. Either way, he had noticed I was uncomfortable, and he was trying to do something about it without announcing it to the whole boat.

“Uh, yeah. I think I will.”