Nobody But You (15 page)

S
ophie stood on the deck of
The Little Lucas
, her hands on her hips, trying to control her temper as she glared at the guy standing on North Beach's public launch dock a few feet away.

His mouth was moving as he went on and on about how she'd illegally moored last night, blah, blah, blah…

What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, but the truth was, she'd been illegally moored several nights in a row now. The first night she'd stayed in a quiet cove, but she'd been awakened at four in the morning by fishermen. And five. And six…The second night she'd found what seemed like a deserted private dock. She'd learned her mistake when the moon rose and a bunch of teenagers had shown up to smoke weed.

She still had a contact high.

Last night she'd started out near the campgrounds but had left when she'd seen a bear going through the trash cans right outside the women's restrooms. She'd ended up having to move several times throughout the night, and what she needed more than anything was eight straight hours of sleep.

“I'll be moving any second now,” she promised. “I'm just waiting for the rest of the fam to get here.” She smiled in a way that invited him to join her.

He declined.

“It takes my sister forever to get out of the house,” she said, hoping she was coming off as charming and not as batshit crazy as she felt. “And my mom…well, let's just say my dad's probably going nuts right about now. You know how dads are. Everything's on a timetable and no one listens, and then it's one big yell-fest instead of a good time. But no worries. They'll be here soon and we'll get going in no time.”

He didn't look impressed. “It's almost dark. You can't still be here after dark.”

“I promise,” she said, “because that would be totally and completely illegal.” She flashed another smile.

Nope, still nothing. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay,” she said. “Here's the truth. My family's not coming.”

He gave her a
duh
look.

“But I have a really good reason to be here. I swear,” she said, waiting for her brain to come up with that great reason.

“It's for the resort,” an unbearably familiar male voice said from above the dock.

She turned her head and watched as Jacob lithely leapt over the railing and landed with easy agility on the dock. She hadn't seen him for three days, something she told herself she'd been relieved about. She'd been working her ass off during those three days, at a myriad of temp jobs, and knew he'd been doing the same because she'd had lunch with Kenna yesterday.

She and Jacob would be working together on a bunch of upcoming lake events as the resort kicked their summer season into high gear.

Jacob's military-short hair was growing out. He'd gotten some sun too. He stood there in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt advertising the resort, his eyes hidden behind dark lenses. She pasted on a casual smile and tried not to whimper as she watched him come closer, the soft twilight casting subtle shadows and highlights that shifted across his muscles as he moved.

“Hey, Rob,” he said to the lake patrol guy. “Been a long time.”

To Sophie's utter shock, Rob-of-the-absolutely-zero-personality smiled widely and enthusiastically pumped Jacob's hand.

“Heard you were back, Kincaid. Causing a big old stir in town, man. People can't wait to see you.”

Jacob nodded easily, but Sophie could see past the calm facade. That news didn't make him happy.

Not that she cared. “If this little reunion is over,” she said, “maybe we could get back to the issue here, which is that I don't deserve a damn ticket because—” Well, actually, she didn't have a because.

But as it turned out, she didn't need one.

“You're not going to get a ticket,” Jacob said.

She turned to him. “How do you know? You don't work for lake patrol, remember?”

Jacob turned to Rob. “You heard that we're taking over North Beach for some upcoming events?”

“Yeah,” Rob said. “Everyone's looking forward to them.”

Jacob smiled. “Nice. Sophie's on our staff.”

“Gotcha,” Rob said. “You'll need to get her a lake pass if you're going to keep her moored overnight anywhere other than a private dock.”

“We've got a private dock secured,” Jacob said, and pointed to the line of cabins and private docks to the far right—of which his was the first one. And then the two of them continued to speak casually for another few minutes while Sophie stared at Jacob.

He'd lied to that lake patrol guy for her…

After a minute she realized he was staring at her back and that Rob had left. She opened her mouth, but he shook his head and boarded
The Little Lucas
. Then, casual as you please, he moved to the controls, started the engine, and motored them out of the boat ramp area.

“What the hell?” she asked, the forward motion of the boat forcing her to sit in the chair next to him or fall over.

Jacob handled the boat with the ease of a man who'd been born to it. The wind beat at them and she shivered, but Jacob looked impervious to the weather. “What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Not here.” They left the five-miles-per-hour zone and he hit the gas. Talking became impossible over the high-pitched whine of the engine. They zoomed along the shore for a few minutes, the wind tousling her hair, the slowly sinking sun slanting over the mountain peaks and into her eyes.

She gasped in surprise when the boat slowed without warning and would've slid forward if Jacob hadn't put out an arm to catch her. She strained against his tanned, corded forearm, righting herself as soon as she could.

Okay, maybe not quite as soon as she could. Maybe she let her hands hold on to that hard arm for a few beats longer than she needed. She was only human.

They were in a secluded cove, no other boats in sight, no one on the shore, when Jacob turned off the boat and faced her.

“What—” she started, but was effectively shut up when Jacob rose to his feet, yanked her up as well, and into his arms. Her heart rate tripled before he even touched his mouth to hers, and then she couldn't think at all.

Tightening his grip, he kissed her long and hard and deep, and by the time they pulled apart for air, she had her hands all over him, one at the small of his back, holding him to her, the other—oh God—in his jeans. She jerked her hands around and up, putting them on his chest.

To push him away, she told herself.

But she didn't push. Instead, her fingers curled into the cotton of his shirt as a battle raged inside her. Fear and lust were in mortal combat, and she had no idea which would win. If he kissed her again, they'd end up naked on the floor of this boat, but she didn't think she could be with him like that again and not fall.

Hard.

He didn't appear to have the same internal war going on. His big, yummy hands were exploring and his mouth wasn't far behind, and she was losing her mind, not to mention her resolve. She already knew he liked to kiss and that he was a master at it, but she was starting to learn that he liked to kiss
everything
, on his own schedule. And he liked to linger.

A lot.

The memories of a Jacob-induced orgasm had been fueling her fantasies for days. And, if she was being honest, it'd fueled more than one self-induced orgasm as well.

But then they locked eyes and they froze in place, her from a sudden rush of emotions, Jacob probably from watching them play out across her face.

“I want you to know,” she said. “That this…” She wagged a finger between them. “This insanity between us, it's not making any sense to me. It just isn't. I'm still…conflicted.”

“Three days, Soph.”

“What?”

“I let you stew for three days, but I can't do it anymore.” He hauled her in again, wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged just enough to make her look at him. “You've wrecked me,” he murmured against her mouth, making her heart skitter to a halt in her chest.

“I wrecked you? What about what you've done to me?”

His eyes searched hers, an unholy light coming into his.

Well, crap. Instead of putting the brakes on this disaster walking, she'd just tossed gasoline on the fire.

Pulling her in closer, he kissed her again. “So you're as utterly”—another kiss—“wrecked”—and yet another—“as I am. Good to know.” The next kiss took her to another place, where the only thing that existed was his hard body and what it was going to do to hers—

“Soph.”

She was too busy shoving up his shirt so she could nibble her way down his bare chest to answer.

“Soph.”

She licked one of his nipples and got a thrill when he shivered.

He picked her up, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his hips. He had one big hand cradling and caressing her butt, the other across her back, holding her close. She slipped her arms around him, hoping, wishing, that she'd never have to let go.

His hands tightened on her. “Tell me we're going to wreck each other again,” he said, voice low and gritty with desire.

To that end, she tore off his shirt and pushed him down to the long bench seat.

Jacob took her with him, keeping a hand in her hair and his mouth locked on hers. With a groan, he angled his head, his tongue sliding against her, making her feel like she'd been starving for this, for him. All she could think was he seemed to crave her as much as she craved him. He told her so in each press of his lips, every soft stroke of his tongue telling her,
Yes, this, more of this, don't stop…

“Jacob.”

He had his mouth at the base of her throat and hummed a wordless response.

“I missed you.”

He stilled, his eyes closing for a beat. “I'm all yours,” he whispered, and flipped them so that she was flat on her back on the seat. He rose over her, his chest and hips sliding against hers so that she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.

He kissed his way down her neck, opening her blouse and then the front clasp on her bra, spreading the material to the side to get a look at her.

“Why do you have a bruise on your left side?” Jacob asked.

“Yesterday I temped at a vet's office. I had to check in a cranky goose. Do you notice everything?”

He gave her an almost smile. “When it comes to you.”

“If you weren't so hot, I'd find that really annoying,” she said.

That got her the full-wattage smile. He didn't use it often, which made it all the more potent and sent desire skittering through her.

He reeled her in for a brain-melting kiss, during which her hands found their way down the back of his jeans.

“If your endgame isn't finding yourself naked and under me for the rest of the night, you should stop that,” he said.

She tightened her fingers, digging them into his edible ass.

“Good choice.” He lowered his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, his teeth, while skimming her skirt up her thighs. “You've got me burning up from the inside out,” he murmured.

She'd never done anything like this outside, ever. But they were in a secluded cove and she was flat on her back, out of sight even if someone did come along. Still, a secret thrill raced through her, an illicit one, and she felt a rush of arousal.

“Tell me you're burning up for me too.”

She opened her mouth, but Jacob skimmed his lips down her torso, playing with her, easily stealing her breath along with her words. She was totally burning up for him, and as his hands slid up her thighs, she could feel exactly how turned on she was.

A single push had her skirt bunched around her waist. Another stroke of his fingers scooped her panties to one side, and then she knew he could see too.

“Yeah,” he said in wicked, naughty accusation. “You're burning up for me.” He stroked his thumb through her wet folds. Her thighs trembled, and she whimpered incoherently, her hips writhing.

And then he slid to his knees, pushed those broad shoulders between her thighs, and kissed her.

And then licked. Nibbled. Sucked.

And drove her right out of her ever-loving mind.

When she could draw air back into her lungs, she sat up so fast she bumped the top of her head on his chin and saw stars. “Ow!”

“Easy, tiger,” he said, rubbing his chin.

His hair was standing straight up—from her fingers—and his mouth was wet—from her. No shirt, jeans low and barely concealing what was quickly becoming one of her favorite parts of him. She felt her mouth go dry just looking at him. Sliding to the floor of the boat, she mirrored his position, hitting her knees. Then she shoved him onto the seat she'd just vacated.

“Pushy,” he said. “I like that—” He broke off on a groan when she popped open his jeans, tugged them down enough to free him, and sucked him into her mouth.

“Oh Christ.” His voice was a low, rough growl as his fingers slid into her hair.
“Soph.”

And that, her name, was the last thing he said for a while.

Boneless and sated, they sort of melted into each other, letting the cool air drift across their damp and overheated bodies while they struggled to lower their heart rates from near stroke level.

“I can't even…,” he finally murmured, his voice gravelly. “That was…” When he couldn't seem to find the words, he merely tightened his grip on her like he knew she was a flight risk and he couldn't bear it.

She loved that. The gesture, tiny as it had been, kept her warm. She knew this was to have been…what? Angry sex? Makeup sex? She couldn't remember anymore, but she knew one thing.

It hadn't been just sex.

This hit her like a wave over the head, as cold as the lake water beneath the boat. Not just sex. That meant more than just sex.