Caribbean Christmas (10 page)

She shrugged her shoulders, the ropes of the hammock pressing at her sun-kissed skin. “I broke up with you that day, just so you know.”

“I understand.”

“I think that’s why I call you Johannes. Because that is who you still are to me.”

“You can call me whatever you want. Joe was just easier because I was at an American school.”

She nodded. “About what Harm said on the boat…”

He shifted, nearly knocking her off. “You let me worry about my brother. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

“I didn’t come here for money. And I don’t think my mom meant anything nefarious when she asked my dad for the startup money for the pie shop. He helped her open her cupcake bakery, so I think she thought he’d be behind this as well. They’re very civil. Harm made it sound like they hate each other, and they don’t.”

“Okay.” He tipped back the beer, his Adam’s apple undulating as he drained it.

“Just okay?”

“Your parents’ relationship is none of my concern.”

“Then why are you so upset? And don’t tell me you aren’t, because I know better. If it’s not that you’re worried my mom is trying to hurt Dutch, then what is it?”

“Harm was right.”

“Harmannus has never been right about anything in his whole entitled life.” Saskia wrapped her hand around his thigh, probably sensing he’d rather get out of the hammock than discuss this.

What was with women and their constant need to talk, talk, talk. “I like you more than I should.”

“Well, thank heaven for small favors.” She squeezed his thigh and shifted, pushing herself up. Her gaze darted from side to side and he grinned, realizing she was trying to think of a way out. That meant he wouldn’t have to admit that he’d already played this game and lost. That he’d loved someone enough to deliver her the world and let her go chase her dream, only to have her stay in New York. Gah, what was with that damned state?

Saskia lifted one leg out of the hammock and tried to climb out, but the whole thing flipped, landing them both on the dusty ground. Laughing.

“I suppose the ground just jumped up at you that time too?” He rose to his feet, then reached down to pull her up.

“No, that was me trying to seduce you with my awkwardness.” She came up next to him, barely a breath away. “Did it work?”

“It’s beautiful up here,” Saskia said as she climbed the stairs of her childhood home, amazed it could be the same place. Just like in the living room, the vaulted ceilings made everything feel larger. The landing atop the stairs had been widened, with two armchairs and a circular-patterned rug filling the space in front of a picture window that perfectly framed Blowing Point Harbor.

She turned and gasped. Both sides of the room had French doors flanked with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, like pyramids of stories. She reached for Joe’s arm and squeezed. “I could read here forever.”

“I don’t know, most of these are in Dutch. Do you speak it?”

She shook her head and turned into him. “Only enough to know what you said in bed earlier, unless you were talking to Lola and not me.”

His pale blue eyes widened in the waning light. “I was a little out of my head.”

She slid her fingers into the front pockets of his shorts, pressing against the firm muscles of his thighs. “I liked it.”

“I could tell.” He ran his palms up her body, making her shiver when he cupped her face with one hand and threaded the other into her hair. His lips hovered above hers, their breath blending together as they soon would.

Probably for the last time, at least for a while. Her father would be home tomorrow. She’d have to leave soon after. She couldn’t think of leaving him, the possibility of what they could be together, without a searing ache in her belly. But dwelling on it would not make it go away, wouldn’t change that she had to go back just as he had to stay.

He belonged here. Though it wasn’t his native land, he loved it the way her father did. Helping to rebuild it had made it a part of him, and taking him away from Anguilla, taking Anguilla from him wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

As if caught up in a spell, she stared up at him, memorizing the kindness of his blue eyes, the wisdom of the tiny lines the sun and smiling had etched beside them, and the proud set of his determined jaw. He wouldn’t beg her to stay any more than she would beg him to go.

He leaned in, tasting her lips, the mint of the tea they’d shared after dinner brightening the kiss. She opened for him, wanting as much of him as she could take. He deepened the kiss and her nerves caught fire, her breath chasing her racing pulse until she was barely breathing at all.

This was what she needed, this kiss, this touch. “More,” she whispered against his mouth.

He backed her up against the bookshelves, knocking the books together, the shelves pressing onto her back. A few things fell, but nothing sounded breakable. She couldn’t bother to check. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was being as close to him as she could get. If she could have crawled inside him and hid herself there, she would have.

Raising her arms overhead, she gripped an upper shelf, her fingertips brushing the rough spines of the cloth-covered books. She tested the strength, then stepped a heel back to the bottom shelf and lifted herself up. Not far, just enough so she could lift her free leg and wrap it around his hips, pressing into him there, yes, right there.

He moaned into her mouth as she rocked her hips. He undid her shorts, but instead of diving in, he pushed her shirt up over her belly, her rib cage, her breasts. The crocheted material caught on one nipple ring, the tug as he freed it sending a ripple of pleasure to her core.

She let go so he could get the shirt off, nearly toppling them both to the floor. He braced against a shelf and laughed. “You are a dangerous woman, Saskia Vanderbrogen.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He shook his head and took a step back. She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get a word out, he knelt and shucked down her shorts. “I want your ass in my bed. Now.”

Chapter Fourteen

Leaves rustled as the wind carried the scent of ocean and hibiscus through his open window. Joe didn’t have to check the clock to know dawn approached. He could feel it in the air, dread tightening his shoulders. Only a few precious hours of his time alone with Saskia remained.

The faint glow of a sailor’s moon cast shadows through his bedroom. Her pale skin seemed to glow on his dark sheets, her bare body lying spent beside him. He really should let her sleep. He’d woken her once already.

He’d drifted off after making love to her both times, and yet his mind wouldn’t allow him to waste a second of this fleeting time. He’d never been this desperate for anyone, for anything. He turned to his side and reached out to run his hand across the soft skin of her long back.

The contact calmed him as he learned the strength of the toned muscles beneath such silken skin. In the stillness, he heard his roughened hands as they mapped her body and paused. He shouldn’t wake her.

“Don’t stop now.” Her pillow muffled her sleep-roughened voice. “I usually can’t stay still long enough for a massage, but you seem to have the right touch.”

“You’re sleeping.” The devil on his shoulder was a greedy bastard, urging his hand to move down her body to the firm mounds of her ass.

She gave that little mew deep in her throat that drove him wild. “I’m up if you are.”

He edged his way closer and pushed her hair aside so he could whisper in her ear. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’ll take orgasm for two hundred, Alex.” She snuggled her face deeper into the pillow.

“You’re a fan of trivia shows?” He smoothed the rest of her hair to the side, exposing her neck and shoulders.

“I’m a vault of useless information. Anytime you want to hustle trivia night at a bar, I’m your girl.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, using his other hand to caress her back in long strokes. “You’re already my girl.”

She giggled, the sound vibrating his fingers. “If you like it then you should put a ring on it.” She wiggled her ass in true Beyoncé style.

What if I did?
The question died on his lips. He knew she wouldn’t respond the way he wanted her to. And like Harm said, he had nowhere to run to escape his failure this time. No, things had to work with Saskia, even if he had to let her control the timeline.

He didn’t have to let her control anything now. He sat up and moved over her, straddling her legs. He placed a hand on either side of her spine and eased his weight onto her back until she moaned.

“Too hard?”

“Up a little. I get tense between my shoulder blades when I crochet too much.”

He obliged, sliding each hand up. He held the pressure until he felt the tightness release beneath his palms. He started to rub her back, working his way toward her shoulders. He moved her limp arms from beneath the pillow and laid them at her side. She tickled his thighs as he leaned up to knead the stress from her shoulders.

“Does this backrub come with a happy ending?” Her tickling turned to playful scratching.

“I have half a mind to tie your hands to my bed and keep you here.” He lowered his body atop hers, pressing her into the mattress.

“That might work if you didn’t live with my dad.”

He smoothed her hair to one side as he kissed his way from her ear to the back of her neck. She shuddered as he kissed her there, using his lips and tongue to massage her more sensually than his hands ever could.

Placing his hands on either side of her, he eased off enough so that he could slide down her body, kissing his way down her back. She lifted her hips, her legs parting in invitation.

He gripped the muscled globes of her ass and she rocked back into his hands. She raised her hips and pressed her knees into the bed, offering herself to him. His heart hammered, his dick begging for another chance at her wild ride.

He needed her like he needed to breathe, but he didn’t want to be some holiday story she told her friends. He yearned for her to stay, right here, with him. He craved it so desperately his mouth opened to utter the damning words.

But he bit them back and reached for a condom instead. Her dreams were coming true in New York. She couldn’t change her plans just because his hinged on her returning to Anguilla. He had to trust she’d realize what was happening between them was beyond anything she’d ever find elsewhere. Too bad he didn’t do trust well, not anymore.

He filed the sadness away, the woman in his bed demanding his attention with her catlike stretching and gentle mews. He squeezed her ass again, then trailed his thumbs toward her dewy center. He’d pour himself into her, fill her with his hopes and love and bind her to him.

She pushed back, taking his thumb into her and squeezing her inner muscles with a sigh. Maybe she was doing the same thing, leaving a mark on his soul as permanent as a tattoo. He could only hope as he pushed his thumb into her slick core, his fingers playing her wet folds until she set a rhythm against his hand.

He released her and rose up to his knees. He pulled her hips up and buried himself in her. Their moans blended in erotic harmony as he sank and rose, the slapping of their skin setting a staccato beat. She rocked back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

They raced together towards orgasm, sweat coating their bodies as he rocked into her and heating the air until he wondered if they might start to steam. So hot, they’d melt together as one. Joined. Fused. Unbreakable.

She clawed at the sheets, her cries coming faster and rougher as her rhythm faltered. She collapsed to the mattress, her body quaking as he kept his hold on her hips. Her inner muscles gripped and milked him, nearly taking him over the edge with her.

Sweat slicked his hands and she slipped from his grasp, her body limp against his bed, his cock free and throbbing with unspent release in the night air. He shucked off the condom and pumped into his own fist. Time spun, shrank down to that moment, that bed, where everything was perfect. Everything else faded because nothing else mattered. In three strokes, he erupted, spilling himself across her back.

On instinct, he worked the sticky wetness into her skin, his cock twitching at the idea of her wearing him on her body.

“Sass, wake up. Your dad just landed.” Johannes peppered her face with soft kisses as consciousness crept in to her slumber. She’d been in the most amazing dream where he’d been—

“
Schatje
, I know you’re worn out but he’s bringing the boat in right now. That was Buddy on the phone.”

She opened one eye and swallowed.
Did he just say—

She sat in the bed so fast she nearly took his head off. “But he’s not supposed to be here until this afternoon. I haven’t baked anything yet.”

“Apparently, it’s noon. You should take a shower.” Joe stood and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower they’d explored sometime last night.

“What? I don’t have time if he’s already here.” She stood, suddenly feeling strange about her nakedness.

Joe wrapped his arms around her, covering her body with his own. “
Schatje
, I don’t mind. But we both smell like sex. That’s not really how I want your dad to find out about us. If you even want him to find out about us.”