He was already pulling a thin foil packet from his wallet. "I don't make the same mistake twice."
Skin shimmering with heat, Isa watched him get naked.
Dear Lord. The man was like a sculpture of raw masculinity. All ridges and valleys and skin kissed by the sun. The odd scar here and there. Those phenomenally gorgeous tattoos that spoke of his history and family.
Honed muscles that flexed with every movement.
And he was all hers. "I want to spend an entire day in bed with you." It came out throaty, like she was a sex kitten on steroids. "With my hands and my mouth all over your ridiculously beautiful body."
"That could be arranged." Shooting her a grin that said he was in favor of the idea, he sheathed himself with quick hands.
Then he was back between her thighs and--after an erotically rough stroke with his fingers to check her readiness--pulling her forward to oh-so-slowly sink the thick heat of himself inside her. She moaned, the inability to touch him, to do anything to control him, causing her muscles to flutter in warning of the primal pleasure to come.
Then he began to talk. "You are so perfect, Isa, so hot and tight around my cock." A flush across his cheekbones, his eyes glittering. "I fucking love your body." His hand palming her breast through her dress, squeezing. "So damn sexy."
Utterly helpless, Isa watched him luxuriate in her body, his muscles bunching and unclenching as he claimed her in rolling thrusts that hit nerves inside her she hadn't known existed. When he kissed her, she arched into the contact. "Sailor."
"That's it, spitfire." His mouth on her throat, one of his hands gripping her wrists just above the handcuffs while the other closed over her thigh. "Talk to me."
"You're scrambling my bra-- Oh."
Rising at her shuddering moan, he gripped her jaw with one hand and took another ravenous kiss before drawing back and speeding up his thrusts without breaking eye contact. "You want me to grind deep, Isa?" His demonstration had her inner thighs quivering. "Or do you want it faster?"
The untamed eroticism of him took her to the edge. "Anything you want," she said, her chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm. "Slow, deep, fast, I don't care. Just keep going. I love how thick and hard you feel inside me."
"You are going to kill me," he said with a groan before pressing the pad of his thumb against the taut bud of her clitoris.
Isa's body spasmed in an intense pulse that would've had her falling to her back if Sailor hadn't hauled her against him.
"Next time," he gasped in her ear as he pumped into her with relentless force, "we have to remember to move the cactus."
Isa's shoulders shook even as her body clamped ever tighter around him. She'd never thought she'd laugh during an orgasm, but she did and it was glorious. Especially when she lifted her head and saw that Sailor was grinning.
Limbs lazy in the aftermath of the orgasm, Isa decided to even the playing field. Leaning forward, she scraped her teeth down the flat nub of his nipple.
His groan of completion was harsh, his fingers digging into her thigh.
28
Lovefests, Face Slapping, and Strawberry Chocolates
THE REST OF THE WEEK passed by at the speed of light for Sailor as he dove into the Fast Organic project in earnest. He barely took a break and Isa didn't have time to come by the site, but they met in the dark hours of night, loved each other into exhaustion. Yet no matter how fiercely he stroked her, claimed her, he knew she didn't yet trust him. Not the way he needed her to trust him.
It was as if she were mist he was trying to capture.
Well, if she was, he thought with a scowl as he shoved a spade into the earth, he'd build a better mist trap. He was not going to give up on the best thing in his life.
Come Friday and he'd managed to pull enough hours through the week that the weekend was his--and he intended to spend that time coaxing his skittish redhead into his arms for more than a night at a time. Sailor wanted Isa to be his, the need a bone-deep one. Some things a man knew. And Sailor knew Isa was meant to be his.
He also knew he was fighting a lifetime of pain inflicted on her by the very people who were meant to love her. If Sailor could strangle her parents, he would. Since he couldn't, he'd just have to love her so well that she'd risk her heart. Risk trusting a man who had demons that would drive him for years yet.
Sailor knew he wasn't a dream man. He was scarred inside in ways that didn't show, was haunted by a childhood that had been softened by what had come after, but nothing could erase the anguish of the five-year-old child he'd once been. Nothing could wipe away the primal determination threaded through his psyche.
He was no perfect Prince Charming.
But he was a man who would love Isa forever if she just gave him the chance.
Because she was it for him. For now and always.
After cleaning up that night, he drove to the Crafty Corners HQ, his intention to talk Isa into that long-delayed cookie-bar date. Her car was still in the lot. He'd parked his truck and was about to get out when he spotted her leaving by the front door. His entire body smiled.
Jumping out, he called her name as he jogged toward her.
Her head jerked up, but that sometimes sweet, sometimes sinful, always dangerous smile of hers was nowhere in evidence. "Do you like strawberry chocolates?" she asked when he reached her, a mulish expression on her face.
"Not really my thing, but my mom's into fruit chocolates." Sailor took in the lines of strain around her lush mouth, the tension in her shoulders. "I used to buy her a box as a teen when I was in trouble." He still got them for his mom, but now it was just to make her happy.
"Here." Isa shoved a flat box at his chest. "Please, take it. I hope your mom enjoys them."
Sailor closed his hand around the box, took a quick glance at the black label with gold-foil writing. "Why would a box of fancy chocolates make you mad?" He scowled. "Is some guy stalking you? Aside from me, I mean."
Her lips twitched just enough to ease the fist that had closed around his heart. He didn't like it when she was sad. "I hate strawberries," she muttered. "Always have. Fresh ones, the flavor, everything."
"Ah." Since they'd reached her blue compact, he put the box on the roof so he could focus on her. "Someone should've known that and they didn't?" he guessed, because no corporate gift would incite this kind of fury.
"Yes." She unlocked her car using the remote. "Though honestly, I don't know why I'm surprised. My father still thinks I love going to his weddings when I'd rather chew nails."
"Hold up. Weddings? Plural?"
"Number eight is coming up later this year." A frown. "No wait, it's number nine. I keep forgetting the one-month lovefest that ended in a face-slapping breakup in the middle of a charity ball attended by royalty."
Feeling like a country bumpkin he was so shocked, Sailor nonetheless jerked a thumb back at the box on the roof of the car. His curiosity about Isa's father could wait; Isa came first. "Were the chocolates for a special occasion?"
"My birthday," she said, grumpily opening her car door and thrusting her satchel inside. "I don't know what possessed him to send me a gift. He usually just throws shares at me. Probably his new fiancee's influence. He always listens to them at the start."
Sailor only heard part of that. "It's your birthday?" he asked, stunned. Despite the nights they'd spent together, she hadn't so much as hinted at it. "Happy birthday, redhead-who-drives-me-crazy."
"Thank you." Appearing oddly embarrassed, she said, "It's not a big deal."
Sailor wasn't the most intuitive guy--he preferred the practical--but he had an instant of crystal clear understanding right then. What were the chances that two people as self-absorbed as Isa's parents had thrown their baby girl a birthday party or made any kind of a fuss over her?
The likely answer made him want to strangle them all over again.
"It's a big deal to me." Deciding he'd damn well make a fuss, he put his hands on her hips. "It's the first birthday we've had toget
her." Stealing a kiss, keeping it sweet and romantic until she softened against him, he said, "How was the rest of your day?"
She fiddled with the top button of his shirt. "I snuck out for brunch with Nayna, and Harlow and Catie and I are going out for a belated birthday dinner in the new year." Her smile lit up her eyes. "Do you know what those two got me for a present? One of those dancing hula dolls that you put on your desk. It's incredibly tacky, and I know it'll drive Jacqueline crazy."
"Let me guess, you put it right at the front of your desk?"
Laughing, Isa nodded. "I can't wait to see her face the first time she spots it."
No mention of Jacqueline in connection with any kind of a birthday wish, but then, that was hardly surprising. "How about we have a party for two tonight?" Sailor wanted to cuddle her in his lap and kiss her silly. "We can go to the cookie bar and have a birthday cookie cake."
Bristling like the cacti he kept sending her--he was now up to four--she poked him in the chest. "You're exhausted. You're going home, having dinner, and getting to bed. I'm going to do the same."
"We could go to bed together."
"We don't sleep when we're together."
No, they didn't, both of them desperate to drink each other in.
Scowling, Sailor considered his options. But he already knew his Isa far too well to think he could budge her--when it came to the people who mattered to her, Isa was a stone wall. "Tomorrow then," he said, becoming a stone wall himself. "We're going to have a birthday celebration."
A wary scowl. "Why?"
"Because I said so." He kissed her on the nose.
Eyebrows drawing even more heavily over her eyes, she said, "What are you planning?"
29
Watch out for the Deadly Face-Eating Fish
ISA WOKE, STILL NOT KNOWING what Sailor was planning. He'd teased her unmercifully last night, told her to wear a swimsuit and something over the top to protect herself from the sun, but wouldn't tell her which beach he intended for them to visit.
Not that it mattered.
Isa was already beyond charmed at the idea that he was throwing her a private birthday celebration. He could have no idea how much that meant to her. She was waiting for him in the lobby of her apartment building when he drove his truck into the parking lot. Having missed waking up to his kiss, she immediately headed out with her beach-ready tote bag.
He threw open the passenger door from the inside, all gorgeous male appreciation of her--though she was wearing a tankini over which she'd pulled on a pair of shorts and a floaty white garment that covered her arms.
Her legs were a matching flash-fire white.
But where she saw a wraith, he saw a woman who made his eyes glint with sexual heat. "I love your skin," he murmured as she got in, placing one big hand on her thigh and stroking as he leaned in for a kiss.
How was Isa supposed to resist him when he said things like that? And then he touched her as if she were some precious Rubens painting, his own breath turning uneven by the time the kiss ended.
"Hold that thought," he ordered before putting the truck in gear and pulling out.
It took Isa a few minutes to find her brain cells again. "What's in that odd-looking duffel bag on the back seat?" It was tubular in shape and seemed to be made of waterproof fabric.
"My beach gear, plus I made us a picnic."
Grinning at his open pride, she said, "Which beach are we going to hang out at?"
His chuckle sent all her instincts prickling. "A very nice one."
Isa narrowed her eyes. "Sailor, we are going to go lie on a beach and read books and drink champagne right?"
"Sure. After."
"After what?"
"You'll see."
No matter what Isa threatened, he wouldn't tell her his plans. And then, a half hour later, they were obvious. He parked his truck in a spot not far from Mission Bay. But the actual bay closest to where they'd stopped--Okahu--was the hub of a kayak-rental business.
"Tell me we're not going kayaking," she asked, making no effort to hide her horror.
He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. "Trust me, spitfire. I'll keep you safe."
"That's not the point, Sailor. I can't row those stupid things!" The last time she'd tried had been during a high school camp, having been forced into the "fun" activity by a teacher who hadn't understood Isa's lack of coordination. "I'll drown and the fish will eat my face."
"I've got you covered."
"Oh, are you going to magically row my spindly death boat?"
Laughing, he just tugged her down to the rental place, where they showed him to the double kayak he'd already apparently booked.
"You could've told me," she said to the demon by her side.
He chucked her under the chin with a playfulness that made her stomach go all fluttery. "Why?" he said. "It was so much fun having you send me death rays with your eyes."
"You haven't seen my death ray eyes yet," Isa muttered while putting on the lifejacket he gave her. She was glad to see him donning one too. Sailor was strong and athletic, but she'd feel better if they were both protected even though they'd just be paddling about in the relatively sheltered waters of the bay.
Then she saw him placing the tubular duffel into a hatch in back of the kayak after removing a few items. That done, he picked up her tote, added the bottles of juice he'd pulled out from his bag, and put the entire tote into another bag that looked waterproof before placing it in a hatch at the front of the kayak that the person sitting up front could easily access. He neatly sealed up both hatches.
Isa swallowed. "Sailor, how far are we going?" There wasn't anything out there except the islands of the Hauraki Gulf.
Oh God.
"Please don't say Rangitoto." The dormant volcano was a dramatic triangular shape on the horizon--and it was really, really, really far away.
"Okay." He shot her a grin. "We're going to Motutapu. It's just behind Rangitoto."
"I know where it is." Even farther away. "In case you missed it, ferries cross that water. Yachts zip across it. No one's going to notice a toothpick-thin kayak. Those face-eating fish are going to get a good meal out of the two of us."
Her dark prediction only made Sailor's grin widen. "Trust me on this, birthday girl. I can take us the whole way, and I know how to dodge or ride the wake from the larger craft." A grip on her chin, a quick kiss. "Come on, where's my wild, skinny-dipping Isa?"
"She's scared of face-eating fish," Isa muttered but grabbed her floppy hat from the tote and stuffed it on her head. "Will this stay on?" Even slathered in sunscreen, her face would be fried bacon if she went out on the water without a hat. The sunscreen should protect her legs, but she could always throw her towel across them if the skin began to go pink.
Sailor tied up the tote handles for her again. "Wind's calm, so yeah." Sliding his hand up her calf and higher, he rose to his feet. "Let's go celebrate your birthday in style."
Wanting to do her bit now that she'd agreed to this insanity, Isa helped him lift the kayak. Once it was on the soft white sand, just nudging the water, Sailor made her get into the front seat. "I can control it better from the back," he told her. "And with our gear pretty balanced, the heavier person should be at the back."
Isa's lips parted in an instinctive demurral... when she realized he was heavier. All that muscle on a six-two frame made him deliciously heavy when he was on top in bed. Two days ago, he'd talked her into being on top. And then he'd talked dirty to her until she'd ridden him like he was a thoroughbred.
"Fuck me, Isa. Just like that, baby."
"You're so good at this, sweetheart."
"You have the body of a centerfold."
Cheeks flushing at the memory of his harsh, sexy words before his back bowed in a shuddering orgasm, she took her seat.
Sailor put her paddle across the front and told her to hold on to the middle.
"Got it," Isa said just as a small wave crashed over the bow and washed away the erotic ech
oes from their night together.
Isa tried desperately to reassure herself that this plan wasn't destined for disaster.
If the kayak flipped, she and Sailor just had to float until someone got to them. And if a fish or three nibbled on her toes, well, apparently that was considered a pedicure in some places. She'd seen it online. So she'd get a free fish-nibble pedicure. Nothing to worry about.
We're going to die. At least my last will and testament is up to date.
Sailor pushed the kayak forward, deeper into the water, then somehow managed to jump in without causing it to rock wildly before starting to paddle... and she realized she had absolutely no need to worry. He had total control of the kayak, his motions so fluid that she felt like she was on a smooth ride. She wished she could see him, see his biceps flexing, his golden skin gleaming under the sunlight.
They rode gracefully over an incoming wave.
"Shall I try?" she asked hesitantly, her hands tight on the kayak paddle she still held across her front. "I'll probably mess up your rhythm."
"Don't worry so much, baby. This is about having fun," he said, the affection in the words making her blink her eyes hard against a hot, wet burn. "But wait until I have us past the waves so it'll be easier."
That didn't take him long.
Once they were in calmer waters, he stopped and taught her how to angle her paddle so it cut through the water rather than fighting it. It took her several tries, but she finally got some semblance of a good stroke.
A smile broke out over her face. "This is fun." No one had ever been so patient with her when she was trying to learn to do something athletic.
"I don't like to say I told you so, but..."
She laughed at Sailor's smug tone and carried on. She did have to take frequent breaks as the trip was a three-hour one for someone as strong and experienced as Sailor. With him slowing down so she could paddle too, plus a water and snack break in the middle, it was well past the three-and-a-half-hour mark by the time they hit the choppier waters near the island.
* * *
CONTENT IN A WAY HE hadn't been in a long time, his demons unable to fight the happiness in his veins, Sailor watched Isa dig in her paddle ahead of him. She was off-rhythm but determined and probably had a burned nose by now, though she'd slathered on more sunscreen midway through their journey.