Page 67 of Bend
Now the loudest thing in my ears is the whipping wind. He stands so close to me we’re practically hip to hip, and then he wraps an arm around my back.
“Are you cold?” he asks. “You’re shivering a little.”
Omigod, I’m not shivering. I’m trembling. With lust.
I swallow. Shake my head. I try to step away from him, I swear I do, but my legs are frozen. He’s got me entranced. Not him. His delectable body.
“Quit acting like you care if I’m cold.”
I tighten my hands around the wheel, and for a second I swear I can feel his hardness against my butt. The sensation is gone as quickly as I notice it, but I’m so fired up now I can barely remember my own name, feeling sweaty and shaky and flushed.
His hand comes down beside mine on the wheel, tugging it slightly right. “Hold it there for a few minutes,” he says. The boat veers right a foot or two, and the current ripples around us.
For the next five minutes, the only sound is that of the motors, the splash of water under us, and the whipping wind. The sailboat never quite goes fast enough to completely level off, so the nose of the boat, where we’re standing, rides just a little higher than the back.
Little droplets of water fly into my face. We pass a large boat, flat and slow-moving, like a barge. Overhead, the sky darkens, threatening to spill.
We pass a group of three small, tree-covered islands on our left, and my heart pounds, wondering if one of them is Gertrude’s. Race doesn’t move, though, so I shift my eyes ahead, where I can already see something else in the water. Another half mile or so reveals an even larger island: this one sporting dozens of tall pines.
“Beautiful,” I murmur.
“Perhaps it could be yours,” he says with a funny little half-smile. “I can see if it’s for sale.”
“No thanks. If I need one, I’ll take yours.”
We zip over the ocean’s surface, rushing the gray sky that seems to hang low over the water; Race’s arm brushes mine, and I can feel us lose a little momentum.
And then I see it: the widest island so far, covered with so many trees, it looks like someone took a swatch of luscious southern forest and plunked it down in the middle of the ocean. I frown at all the trees inside the dark sand border: pines, oaks, cypresses.
“Gorgeous,” I whisper.
And then he rocks against my ass. I feel the hardness of his cock. I hang onto the wheel as my knees tremble.
*
WOLFE
I press my dick against her.
Reckless.
Instinctive.
Necessary.
I can almost scent her wet cunt; I’ve been with enough women to recognize the glazed eyes, unsteady feet, flushed cheeks, hard nipples. She wants me. She may not like me, but she fucking wants me just like I want her. She confirms this with a wiggle of her ass against my swollen, aching cock. My balls fist up.
I grit my teeth to avoid moaning. I wrap one arm over her shoulder, folding her against my chest because my cock needs to feel that round ass.
We near the shore; I flip a switch to pull the motors up.
As the wind dies down I hear her panting.
“Oh my God, you’re such a fucking asshole.”
I rock against her and groan my words: “Bad first impression, baby.”
She rubs her ass against my cock. “I’m not…your baby.”
