I clap a hand over my mouth and nose to muffle my breathing and block out the stench. I’m closer to his feet than his podiatrist, for fuck’s sake. Has this man not heard of personal hygiene? Or personal space?
My pulse spikes. What’s that burning smell? Please don’t let it be his socks.
“Liam, the crossing’s choppy,” Skipper Magee grumbles. “Bit of an unexpected storm coming in.” His boots are so close now I could reach out and lick them. Not that I would ever, ever want to do that.
“Yeah?” Liam’s voice is rough with sleep.
The bed creaks above me as he shifts, and I squeeze my eyes shut, silently willing the skipper to leave. My heart is beating so loudly. I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this mortifying situation.
“You go up and get that crew soon, all right?” Skipper Magee says, and I swear, I can feel his eyes boring through the bed, like he’s seeing through the mattress to the crew member below.
Liam just grunts in acknowledgment. The bed creaks again as he presumably rolls over, and I can only imagine the view Skipper Magee is getting right now.
This is a pretty weird situation for all of us, but it seems like I’m the only one who’s embarrassed.
Liam must think I’ve left. Little does he know, I’m right here, my bare tits pressed against the cold floor like I’m trying to make a plaster cast of them, listening to him chat with Skipper fucking Magee.
Ash falls beside the bed, and I realize the skipper is smoking. This man is putting me off cigarettes. Might even give up my precious one-a-day habit when I get back home. He makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a snort and Winnie hacking up a particularly nasty hairball. Thankfully, he turns and walks toward the door, his boots making a squelching sound.
I hold my breath, partly to avoid making any noise and partly because inhaling too deeply right now might kill me.
Just as I’m about to let out a sigh of relief, Skipper Magee pauses at the door.
“Liam, there’s a lassie under your bed.”
“Huh?” Liam sounds genuinely confused and I feel him sit up, the bed creaking above me. Oh, bloody hell. “Oh. Uh, that’s where I keep them.”
Ha ha, very funny. Real comedian.
Skipper Magee chuckles and finally,blessedly, leaves the room.
Liam is silent for a moment, and then: “Well, that’s a first for me. Women hiding under my bed.” I feel him shift and get off the bed.
I awkwardly shuffle out, feeling like a complete moron.
He looks at me with a raised brow, but I don’t miss the way his eyes travel down to my chest, taking in my state of undress. He’s still stark naked, his glorious body on full display. I force myself not to stare at his cock.
“He came barreling into your room at five in the morning,” I snap, feeling the need to defend myself. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t want him to know it was me.”
I grab my bra and T-shirt from where I discarded them on the chair after I insisted Liam go up and get them between rounds two and three. I hastily pull them on. I’m pretty sure my bra is on inside out, but at this point, I couldn’t care less.
“You smell like me,” Liam remarks, his voice matter-of-fact, as if he’s discussing sailing weather, not the fact that we just spent the night . . . doing what we did. “There’s a shower if you need it.”
“I’m fine,” I snap, fumbling with my clothes. “I’m just going to get out of here.”
“Gemma.” He puts a hand on my arm. His eyes are hard, unreadable. “It’s fine. We’re both adults. No need for embarrassment.”
I grab my shoes, not even bothering to put them on. I just want to get the hell off this boat and away from Liam.
Billionaire banker Liam is back in full force, and fisherman Liam is nowhere to be seen.
Liam
My gaze cuts over to Gemma grappling with the sail line, her jerky movements betraying the tension vibrating through her. Ever since this morning, she’s been avoiding me at every turn.
The team’s scattered across the boats in a half-assed, let’s-just-get-home mess, leaving me with the joy of babysitting the most hungover of the lot.
“Need a hand?” I call out, my voice carrying over the wind.
