The Cad and the Co-Ed
Page 74

“Oh.” She sighed, sounding strangely relieved, but then asked, “Do you know how to drive it?”
“Of course. I’m great with boats. I even rowed when I was at school.”
She laughed. “A yacht and a row boat are not the same thing, and you know it.”
Struck by a sudden impulse to touch her, I stepped one foot off the boat, grabbed her by the waist, lifted her, and deposited her on the vessel. She yelped and gripped me tightly. I didn’t let go of her, liking the feel of her in my arms too much.
“Bryan . . .” She exhaled, our mouths inches apart, her wide eyes moving between mine.
I leaned forward and whispered, “Just tell me you can swim.”
“Bryan!” She grinned, smacking my arm.
I chuckled. “Relax, I’m joking. You’re safe with me. I’ll always take good care of you.”
Eilish flinched, something flickering behind her eyes at my words, and I released her. I frowned at her expression but before I could question her, she tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “I—uh—need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure, sure. It’s downstairs. I’ll be up top.”
She nodded tightly and left me on the deck. I stared at the spot she’d vacated for a minute, replaying our conversation, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. When a couple minutes passed and she still hadn’t returned, I went down to make sure she was all right.
She’d just emerged from the bathroom when I reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, studying her features. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
“I was just splashing some water over my face,” she explained.
“Yeah?” I was hardly listening to a word she said, too engrossed in how she’d taken off her coat to reveal a baggy jumper that hung off one shoulder, exposing smooth, glowing skin.
“Bryan?” She said my name like a question, but there was a slight hitch in her voice.
I reached out and caressed her shoulder. “You’ve got the most beautiful skin, do you know that?”
She didn’t answer, only lowered her eyes to the floor.
“Eilish, look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She bit her lip. “This is really difficult.”
“What is?” My heart beat like a maniac, fear seizing my chest.
Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t push me away.
“Being alone with you.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I—I keep thinking about what happened last week, with us.”
“Do you regret it?” The question was out before I could stop myself. I moved an inch closer, needing to be near her.
“No.” Her answer sounded desperate and confused. Lifting her eyes to mine, I saw her expression mirrored her voice. “And yes. I . . .” her stare dropped to my lips, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Yes.
I had a hand in her hair and another on her ass—how did that get there?—growling as I pulled her to me, then backed her up against the wall. It was so small in here my head was literally an inch away from the ceiling. Eilish gasped in surprise right before I dropped my mouth to hers.
If she wanted spontaneity, I’d give her spontaneity.
These weeks had been a lesson in endurance and my reserves had finally run dry. By the way her body moved against me when I sank my tongue into her mouth, it had clearly been just as much of a struggle for her.
I liked that, liked the idea of her wanting me this way.
Within seconds, my hand was under her jumper, skimming across the tops of her breasts. They were so soft, but the barriers between us frustrated me. I didn’t think. Just felt. I tugged her top up over her head. Oh, fuck me. She was braless. I groaned, taking just a second to admire her naked breasts before I bent to suck her nipple into my mouth. She made a loud noise of pleasure that reverberated through me, her hands gripping my shoulders.
Mark me, my mind screamed. Claim me.
But she didn’t. Her hands were hesitant, and her hesitation frustrated me.
My mouth parted from her breast long enough to lift her by the hips and carry her across to the bed. Being alone with Eilish like this, being intimate, made my entire body soar. It coiled tight and relaxed simultaneously. She soothed something inside me and at the same time made me savage.
I drowned in the scent of that seductive fucking perfume. For the rest of my life, the smell of watermelons was going to be an unlikely aphrodisiac.
“Something new, right?” I breathed.
Her eyes were foggy with arousal when she gazed at me, nodding as her moans urged me on.
I kissed my way down her body, tracing the goose pimples that danced along her flesh with my lips. She shuddered. When I reached her belly button, I kissed her stomach as my hands hooked into the band of her leggings. Breath whooshed out of her when I tugged them down over her hips to reveal black lace underwear. I ran my finger under the elastic and shot her a devilish grin.
“I like these. I’m going to keep them.”
She flushed and made a low keening sound when I pressed my mouth to the lacy fabric. I dragged her knickers down her thighs until she was bare, tucking them into my pocket, then lifted both her legs and settled them over my shoulders. Damn, she looked amazing. Her sex glistened in the low light as I spread her long legs.
“Eilish,” I whispered, dragging my lips over her tender flesh lightly, hardly touching her but still making her shake with pleasure.