Gillian’s Island (4 page)

“Good.” Then their lips crashed together.

Jamie’s hands were cool on her skin as he wrapped them around
her waist and pulled her against him. His lips turned demanding, but
no more so than her own as she feasted hungrily on his mouth.

How long had it been since she’d done this with a man? Too
long. Hussy that she was, Gillian pressed closer, fully aware there
was not a heck of a lot separating them. Her bathing suit, his shorts
and most likely underwear. She pondered briefly what kind of
underwear a hot nerd would choose. Boxers? Briefs? Plain white or
colored?

Feeling his impressive hard-on against her, she stopped wondering
what type of undergarments he wore, and instead, calculated how long
she had to wait before she unzipped those khakis and found out for
herself.

He tilted his head to one side and plunged his tongue into her mouth.
A groan escaped her throat and an echoing sound rumbled through him.
The tightness of need twisted deep inside her, driving her to
consider things she’d never do otherwise.

Gillian pulled her mouth away from his. “Jamie. I haven’t
um, been with a man in a really, really long time.”

He drew in and released a shaky breath, still so close the warm puff
of air hit her lips before he pulled his head back. “I
understand. We’ll stop.”

She gripped his arms tighter so he couldn’t escape.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just didn’t want
you to think badly of me,” she sighed and then let it all spill
out, “because there’s a very real possibility I’m
going to rip your clothes off in a minute. I wanted you to know why.”

A wide grin appeared on Jamie’s face. “Given that very
real possibility, perhaps we better move this somewhere more
private.”

That sounded good to her. Gillian temporarily took a step back from
him since the doorways of this scaled-down love boat weren’t
wide enough for them to pass through clutched together as they were.
The timing turned out to be fortuitous since Brandon appeared in the
entrance a moment after they separated.

He
stopped and took in the scene before him with a cocky grin. His gaze
landed on the iced-tea bottle still on the counter as he pressed a
little too intimately against Gillian to reach for the bottles of
champagne in the fridge. If he’d asked, she would have gladly
moved out of the way, but of course, he hadn’t.

“Hey there, Gillian. I’m
popping the cork
up on
deck. Why don’t you come join us?” Brandon’s double
entendre wouldn’t have been lost on her, even if he hadn’t
stressed the words so obviously while wedged between her and Jamie.

Drawing on her limited acting talent, she nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure. You go on up and I’ll be right there.”

“Great.” The pervert glanced at Jamie, shook his head and
lowered his voice conspiratorially. “James, buddy. Champagne
works way better than iced tea, if you know what I mean.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Brandon brushed one more time against her and then he and his bottles
were gone.

“Why are you friends with him?” She let out a very
unladylike sound to express her opinion of Brandon.

“Same frat.” Jamie shrugged. Gillian sensed he’d
left the word
unfortunately
unspoken.

He waited, watching her. Brandon’s unwelcome interruption had
broken the mood. Jamie seemed uncertain about her interest in him
now. The moment had passed, but it wasn’t unrecoverable. Where
were they when they’d been so rudely interrupted? Oh, yeah.
About to go somewhere private so she could rip his clothes off.

Gillian took a half step forward. “So, uh, you have any
ibuprofen in your stateroom?”

“Yes.” Watching her intently, he didn’t move.

She smiled. Jamie was sharing a stateroom with Rob, but he was
currently at the helm. They’d have plenty of time for what she
had in mind. “Good. Let’s go.”

Chapter Four

Jamie knew he could be a know-it-all. That he often came across as a
walking encyclopedia and that tended to turn most women off.

He could easily count on one hand with fingers left over the number
of women who’d come on to him in his life. A select few females
found brainy men attractive, like Suzie Smith, the advanced
eighth-grader who he strongly suspected rigged the spin the bottle
game so she could kiss him during her birthday party in her parents’
basement. She’d been his first kiss. Then there was June
Arlington, who’d been his first something else after a party
during orientation week at college.

There’d been a few others throughout his adult years, women who
appreciated him for one reason or another in spite of his less than
forward fashion sense and awkward people skills. Two had become
serious girlfriends. A year and a half with one, nine months with the
other. None had made his stomach turn somersaults like Gillian made
it do now.

As she pushed him back against his bed and straddled him, she didn’t
seem to care that he’d been a know-it-all about her sunburn. To
the contrary, it seemed to have turned her on. At least that was the
conclusion he came to as she unbuttoned his shorts and slowly lowered
the zipper.

He drew in a shaky breath and watched her.

She smiled. “Boxer shorts.”

What did that mean? Were they in style? Passé? How the hell
should he know? Gillian was too close to his throbbing hard-on for
him to care.

He opened his mouth to respond when she reached beneath the boxer’s
elastic waistband. Then all that came out of his mouth was a
shuddering breath.

Apparently enjoying his reaction, she smiled broader and lowered her
head. His heart kicked into overdrive when her hot mouth engulfed his
erection. The possibility that his roommate, who was Gillian’s
soon-to-be brother-in-law, could come knocking on the locked door at
any moment faded from his mind.

Clutching the bedspread, he watched her every motion. He should have
told her he hadn’t had sex in a while either. He definitely
should have told her if she kept up what she was doing he’d be
done in less than a minute. As it turned out he didn’t say
anything coherent at all, then it was too late.

Throwing his head back against the pillow, he squeezed his eyes shut
and came hard, deep in her mouth before he could even utter a
warning. She stayed where she was, working him until he squirmed,
nearly crying for mercy.

When she finally released him from the torturous pleasure of her
mouth and he could open his eyes again, Gillian was watching him, her
head propped up by her hands against his stomach.

She didn’t look upset, but he smothered a groan of
embarrassment anyway. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“I should have…I didn’t…” Where the
hell was the articulate valedictorian now? He gave up trying to
explain. “I’m just sorry.”

“I’m not.” She crawled until she was level with
him, pushing his shirt up as she went until it came off over his
head, leaving him totally naked. They obviously weren’t done
yet. Good, because he could definitely be up for more.

Jamie slid his hands over her bathing suit. “It seems you’re
overdressed.”

Gillian glanced down at herself. “Yes, it does. What are you
going to do about it?”

“I have a few ideas.” He flipped her over so she lay on
the bottom and he took care of the clothing issue in a few seconds.
Bathing suits provided easy access. Women should wear them all the
time, everywhere.

He stifled the urge to hiss in a breath at the redness of her burn in
comparison to her creamy pale breasts and instead slipped one taught
nipple into his mouth. He tasted the salt of her skin and sought
more. While his mouth worked above, his hand slipped down her thigh.

With a groan, Gillian spread her legs. He let out a groan of his own
when he slid one finger inside and found her already wet. Her eyes
drifted closed as his thumb connected with her clit.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “Um, Jamie. Do you have
anything else in here besides ibuprofen?”

“Like what?” He frowned.

“Like…um, condoms, maybe.” Her face turned redder
than her sunburn.

He drew in a deep breath before he laughed.

She blushed harder. “What?”

“Brandon presented each of us with a box of condoms when we
boarded. I told him he was an idiot.”

“Yes he is, though right now I’m plenty grateful for that
fact. You kept them, right? You didn’t toss them overboard or
anything, did you?”

“No, I kept them.” Trembling with thoughts of sliding
inside Gillian, Jamie did a mental review of his unpacking, trying to
figure out which drawer he’d put the condoms in and if he could
reach them from the bed.

From above came the low drone of men talking, followed by the sound
of females giggling. As long they were up there, they weren’t
down here, and that’s all Jamie cared about. That, and Gillian.

He slid another finger inside her while circling her clit faster.
When she started to shake, her breath coming faster and more erratic,
the location of both the other guests and the condoms took second
place as Gillian captured all of his attention. Watching the passion
on her face, he doubled his efforts. Her pelvis rose off the bed to
meet his hand and he slipped one arm beneath her to support her hips.

An orgasm powered through her, and he was unable to tear his gaze
away when she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Wanting those lips
against his again, he waited for the pulsing inside to calm, then
took possession of that beautiful mouth. He kissed Gillian hard as
she struggled to regain her breath.

Their positions put his hard-on, now back and ready for action again,
right at the apex of her thighs. Warm, wet heat pressed against his
tip. It was all he could do not to push inside.

“Should I get the condoms?” He was breathing pretty
heavily himself.

She looked up at him with eyes heavily lidded with desire. “Yes.”

The yacht began to rock violently. It might have been doing that for
a while, he’d been so entranced by Gillian he wouldn’t
have known. Now, however, it was rough enough it nearly tossed him
off the bed. He grasped the headboard with one arm and Gillian with
the other.

Her eyes opened wide as the boat listed again. “It’s
getting rough.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Her answer made him more than happy.

The weather gods seemed to be on his side. The seas calmed enough so
he could get to the dresser and locate the box. He even managed to
get himself covered with a condom and back onto the bed before the
next wave hit and threw him on top of Gillian harder than he’d
anticipated. The air rushed out of her as he crashed down onto her
chest.

“Sorry. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She spread her legs and pulled him
between them, leaving no doubt in his mind about what she wanted. He
didn’t ask her again. Instead, he pushed inside, shuddering
with pure pleasure.

The
rocking of the boat matched the rhythm of his thrusts. Gillian
wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him even deeper as she
clung to him. Even Poseidon couldn’t feel more powerful than he
did as her body gripped his. She buried her face in his shoulder but
still the sound of her cries as she came again filled the room. Her
fingers dug into his ass and pulled him farther inside, and he
couldn’t hold on any longer. He came hard and then collapsed
weakly on top of her.

His
impassioned blood rushed through his veins so loudly, it nearly
blocked out the screams up on deck that followed the crash of water
against the portholes. Then there was the sound of Rob shouting.

“What’s happening?” Gillian clung to him while he
was still inside her.

“I’m not sure.” Another wave hit. There was more
screaming and shouting above, and he knew what he had to do.
“Gillian, I have to get up there and help Rob.”

She nodded, even as she looked scared to death. “Go. He needs
you.”

Jamie
hastily pulled out of the happiest place he’d been in a long
time. “Get dressed and stay here. It sounds rough up top. I
think you’ll be safer below.”

Locating his clothes scattered around the bed, he glanced back at
Gillian’s frightened expression.

“Jamie. Be careful.”

He was about to leave the best thing he’d ever found. Damn
right, he’d be careful.

“
Everything
will be okay. I promise.” Another huge wave tossed the yacht.
Below, the low steady hum of the engine sputtered and then stopped.
“I really have to go.”

“I know. Go.”

Out
in the narrow hall, the group from above pushed past him. Going
against the tide of hysterical women and shouting men, Jamie made his
way to the stairs, braced his arms and pulled himself up by the
railing. He located Rob at the wheel, alone and holding on tight.

Jamie
had to raise his voice to be heard over the crashing of the waves.
“What’s happening?”

“A storm blew up on us out of nowhere. One minute it was sunny,
the next, the wind kicked up and the skies turned black. Now we’re
getting tossed around like a damned toy boat.” Rob shouted to
him over the wind that whipped them both in the face.

Jamie wiped at the saltwater stinging his eyes and making it
impossible for him to see out of his glasses. “I heard the
engine cut out.”

“I know. We’re dead in the water.”

“Is that good or bad? Do we want to ride out the storm, or do
we need to get the engine running and try to steer away from it?”

With an expression of sheer panic on his face, Rob shook his head. “I
don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? I thought you knew how
to sail?”