The ship abruptly stopped and her body fell against his. His arms came around her and locked her in place. Netto couldn't help himself. His willpower frayed to its last remaining strands, weak from his lack of control. She squirmed and gasped as his mouth found hers, catching it for his own.
Netto groaned when Rylie wrapped her arms around his neck.
He tasted the sweetness and sunscreen and devoured it as their lips moved against each other's. Her back arched up into his chest and one of his hands moved up to tangle in her hair while the other lifted her to him.
The ship stopped.We should be above deck.He should be overboard, however, the thought of leaving Rylie's receptive body behind broke his composure. Her nails bit into his flesh and he pulled her hair, loving the feel of it wrapped around his fist.
Their lips pressed together, moved and suckled, sweet and hungry and new.
Rylie's knees gave up and he caught her, holding her protectively against him. She was so small compared to him, so tiny, so fresh, so toned and tight. Netto didn't want to break her, but the beast inside him wanted to go wild.
Her breasts were pressed up against his chest. There were only small strips of cloth between them and he wanted to see their orbs, bared and beautiful before his eyes. He could feel the hard points of her nipples.
Netto ripped the shirt down her back, shredding it like tissue paper until nothing but strips of cloth remained. Rylie squeaked and shifted, tensing until his hands covered the soft length of her spine.
He wondered if her breasts would be pale and framed by tan lines, ready for his eyes alone. Or would they be as bronzed as the rest of her body, if she sunbathed naked, and if she would allow him to watch the next time?
Rylie’s tongue came out to meet his, demanding, yet shy. She ran it up, gliding over his lips. He growled and leaned back against the wall but found her lips again immediately. She pushed against his defenses and it brought everything crashing down.
He thrust her away. “We can't.”
Rylie's arms came up to keep the clothing covering her chest in place. His eyes skirted down, but her breasts were hidden from him.
“Why not?”
He shook his head.
“Why not?” she asked again, her voice gaining substance. He looked away from her, straightened out his wetsuit, and retook control of the beast inside him, tempering his baser instincts.
“Because.” He stepped around her and put distance between them.
“Netto, I don't understand? What happened? Why can't we?”
He kept walking toward the exit. With his foot on the first step of the stairs, he let out a sobering breath. “I can't stand your smell, I can't stand your taste.”
He left before he was drawn back and stepped onto the deck. The mist had descended while he was below and it quickly enveloped him. It was dark enough that no one would see hisneedor the wild look in his eyes. The Montihans wouldn't know what he had been up to.
With a growl, he jumped overboard. It was the last sound to fill his ears before he let the cold water of the deep ocean claim him.
***
RYLIE STOOD THERE INshock, shreds of cloth on either side. They clung to her as she exhaled the tightness in her lungs. She didn't move until the boat's exterior lights turned on and flooded through the windows.
She looked down at herself with shame.What’s wrong with me?Her eyes burned with suppressed tears, tears she didn’t want to shed. He wasn’t worth it. Her fingers slid across her skin and over her neck until they ended on her lips.
What’s wrong with me?Rylie rubbed her mouth, rubbed it until it was raw and the feel of his kisses had been erased.
She dug her fingers into the material of her torn clothes, and fled to her quarters, but tripped over a wad of cloth. She reached for it, knowing it was her ruined bedsheets.
Rylie dropped it and kicked it to the corner. She shook out her arms, letting the remains of her shirt fall to the floor. She kicked those into the corner, too. She didn't want to be near them, or him, and her clothes had betrayed her with his smell. Her heart roared in her ears, and his hurtful words still filled her head.
She threw on a nightshirt and changed her bedding—her pillow—and pretended that nothing had happened between her and Netto. But as the ship swayed under her body and hours passed, escaped tears dried on her fresh sheets and sleep eluded her.
What’s wrong with me?
She promised herself that she would never let him make her feel this way again. For the rest of the trip, she would avoid him. She’d do everything she could to keep him from making her feel this way again.
Rylie counted the seconds, unable to wait for the horrible time to end. For all of this to end.
