I'Ve Got You (12 page)

While he was gone, Belle had stripped; seeing her resting against the cockpit in her skimpy underwear was pure torture.
Later
, he told himself, and grinned.

After fitting snorkels and flippers, they plunged over the side of the yacht into the clear waters. Kabe gave Belle the shovel then swam to the port side. The lowering tide had dragged the yacht back, but not far enough. Kabe found the digging easier than expected and, when he thought they'd done enough, he rose to the surface and swam to the starboard side to find Belle still working below him. He marvelled at the moving patterns the sunlight cast over her long limbs. It gave her skin a bluish tinge, except under her pink underwear, which looked sweet. She seemed ghostly pale and delicate, yet strong, her slim muscles tensed with every plunge of the spade moving the sand aside. A school of small, colourful, tropical fish darted in and out near her hands, picking off tiny bits of food dislodged by the shifting sand. Belle looked up and pushed herself toward him. In a flash of colour and glistening silver, the school of fish veered off and disappeared.

She pulled the snorkel out of her mouth. ‘What's up?' she asked, sounding nasal with her mouth puckered out, her amber eyes sparkling behind the mask.

So, she does cute a lot.
He cupped her face, pulled her towards him and kissed her mooshed out lips. ‘Okay, that's enough sweet cheeks.'

‘Oh, okay,' she said, ‘I'll just pop down and get the shovel.' And before he could say anything, she put the snorkel in her mouth and dived down. Her shapely arse bobbed on the surface before she disappeared. He looked to the heavens for moral strength, didn't find any and let go another long-suffering groan.
She must realise what she's doing, she must.
Maybe she thought nothing of wriggling her bum around. That everything she did wouldn't affect him in an erotic way. He knew what she felt like, tasted like. If he had her all day in his bed, with his dick inside her, it still wouldn't be enough. Belle made him feel like a testosterone-driven teenager, and that was hard enough the first time round.

Belle broke the surface, shovel in hand, took the snorkel out of her mouth and shoved the goggles up on top of her head, then climbed the rickety rope ladder. Kabe followed Belle, his arms circling her thighs and her arse in his face, and damn, it got the better of him: he sank his teeth into one of her cheeks. Not hard, just lovingly.

‘Hey! Cut it out!' Still, Belle took her time reaching the top.

And he
loved
every jiggle, every sway, every second of this poetry that was his woman's anatomy. Yeah, his woman. He clambered after her unable to control the wide grin.

‘What's so funny?' Belle asked.

‘You—Love looking at you,' he said, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

Belle caught his eyes and inclined her head, gazing at him, puzzled. She smiled, shook her head, and said, ‘Okay. You ready?'

Kabe nodded, and moved away to stow the dinghy and camp gear. He got behind the wheel and concentrated on moving them off the bar. The engine roared,
The Ondine
moaned, and then, to Kabe's great relief, his yacht slowly inched backwards.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Belle leaning over the side. She turned to look at Kabe and shouted, ‘It's working!'

He may have been grinning from ear to ear over the success of freeing his yacht, but part of him wished they could spend a few more days alone together. Just the two of them by a fire, in a sleeping bag, on an island paradise. Without food? Not a problem, he'd go hunting for his woman, well fishing anyway. There was no doubt in his mind that that's where she fit.
Yeah … My woman!
He only hoped that Belle wanted him in the same way.

‘Why are you looking at me all weird?' Belle asked.

‘Just that, had I been here as a kid, I would've been in my element.' It wasn't remotely what he was thinking, nevertheless, he hoped it was good enough.

‘Lexie and I were. We spent most holidays over where Pop's place is now. Then studies and homework got in the way,' Belle reminisced.

The yacht slid from its sandy confines, drawing Kabe's attention away. He waited until there was enough water under the hull before he swung at the helm to turn the boat around. They motored out of Starfish Inlet and headed for the open sea.

* * *

Belle controlled the wheel while Kabe attended to the sails, wearing only wet shorts that sat low on his hips. With arms reaching up for the lines, his flat midriff became even flatter, harder. It was impossible to keep her eyes off him. She loved the way he moved, easy, relaxed, stealthy, like a big cat.
Hmm …

The sails snapped with a satisfying
fwoomp
as they filled with air, straining in the brisk south-easterly breeze. Lost in daydreaming, Belle wondered what it would be like to sail forever with Kabe at the helm.

‘Turn the engine off, Babe,' Kabe called out, shattering her thoughts.

Babe.
Her mind homed in on his more frequent tender use of the word. She liked it. Yeah, she liked it a lot.

Before she could say anything he stepped into the cockpit, smiling at her but making no move to take over the wheel, and unbuttoned his shorts and slipped them over his hips.

‘Got to get out of these,' he said, ‘or they'll dry on me and I'll end up with a chafed arse and … other bits.' He stepped out of his wet shorts and laid them on the cockpit's bench, then moved to the hatch. She watched his rounded, naked butt jiggle as he disappeared.

‘Well … okay.' Belle swallowed and looked out to sea.

Moments later, he was back wearing dry cargo shorts, T-shirt and cap.

‘This is more like it.' He glanced across his shoulder at her. ‘Off you go, last night's track pants and shirt are on your bunk.'

‘That's okay, I'll just use these,' Belle said, stripping off her wet underwear and tossing it on the bench before pulling on her shorts and T-shirt.

‘You've just gone commando,' Kabe announced.

‘Relax, you're sailing and nothing's going to happen.'

Kabe chuckled, ‘Who said?'

‘I did.' Belle giggled, made herself comfortable on the bench and enjoyed Kabe's sleek yacht slicing through the sparkling, deep-blue sea. Frothy waves skimmed the bow then slipped along the sleek sides of the yacht's white hull, leaving a gentle wake behind. Her father's sloop was just as lovely, but in a different way. Older, it had earned its place in the yachting world.

Kabe broke into her thoughts. ‘Take the helm please.' Belle did as he asked and they swapped positions. ‘We should be in sight of your father's sloop soon.'

He grabbed binoculars out of its holder near the helm.

‘Assure me again, sailor man, that we'll find her.'

‘Yeah, we'll find your dad's yacht. I'll go forward and see if I can spot anything.'

‘Thanks, Kabe.'

He moved to the bow, planted his feet wide and binoculars to his face, and scanned the ocean.

They sailed the search area in one large circle. Two hours later, they rounded the northern tip of Butterfly Island. Peering through the binoculars Kabe punched the air, pointed to the starboard side and shouted, ‘Fuck me, I'm a happy man!'

Craning her neck, Belle stood on tiptoe and, squinting her eyes, located her dad's yacht. ‘Well strike me pink, there she is!' Belle whooped. ‘Yes—yes!'

‘Strike me pink?' Kabe asked as he stepped back into the cockpit. ‘Isn't it, stone the crows?'

‘That as well. Blame Pop.' She looked back at
The Pocket
. With the change in wind direction, her dad's sloop had turned and now drifted, following the currents. Belle's mouth trembled with happiness. The lump in her throat thickened, a warning that she was about to sob with happiness; seeing the glossy, deep-red timber hull gleaming in the sun was just the best feeling.

‘What a great day! Isn't it wonderful, the boat's wonderful, you're wonderful.'

Overcome, she let go of the wheel, and turned to fling her arms around Kabe; her legs wrapped around his hips, she hung on, and mouth trembling, kissed him. Tears trickled down her face. Instantly, his broad hands fanned around her back, fingers pressing in. With his powerful hands, Kabe sent the message that he knew what he wanted: there was no doubt in his mind, it was Belle. Then his arms wrapped around her and gently squeezed her to him. A moan rumbled in his chest and Belle sank deeper into his embrace, sank deeper into Kabe. His hot, gorgeous mouth explored hers and sent tingles through her body. When his tongue caressed her lower lip, heat dipped to her belly and pooled between her thighs. Then Kabe's tongue darted in and found hers. Belle moaned and slid her hands into his hair, bunching her fingers in his curls.

She could feel him becoming more urgent, just as she was, needing more skin, more pleasure. Hot desire swamped her limbs and she lost the strength to grip him. Kabe caught her weight and moaned into her mouth.

The yacht stalled.

The wheel spun.

The sails fluttered.

And they didn't give a damn.

Chapter 8

Kabe used his hands and forearms along her body, as if wanting to feel as much of her as he possibly could … a heady turn-on, and Belle loved it. Slowly his hands came up to caress her nape. All too soon, they moved from her neck, down her back, then further to her hips and bottom, gently squeezing her firm round cheeks. He tucked her into him, his erection pressed against her belly, and she couldn't help a satisfied smile tweaking the corners of her mouth.

‘Fuck, you're doing me in,' he groaned his pleasure against her mouth.

Belle gathered his T-shirt and pulled it up. Kabe eased back, and before she knew it, his broad, hard chest was bare and Belle's hands were on his abs and sliding up. He locked eyes with hers, hot with need, then his mouth fell on hers, hot and hungry with just the right amount of playful tongue. She wanted to throw off her T-shirt and bra so she could rub her erect nipples against his smooth golden skin. Instead, she pressed her breasts against his chest and rolled her shoulders just a little; the friction on her nipples spread a luscious feeling through her body and intensified the sweet tingle glowing between her thighs. Giddy with pleasure, Belle became lost in his passion for her … all of him just for her.

A swell hit the yacht, it lurched and they stumbled; Belle's eyes flew open. She clung to Kabe's broad shoulders, but the boat's sudden pitch back and forth hadn't fazed him; his eyelids, surrounded by dark lashes, stayed closed.

‘Kabe,' she panted, as he ran his fingers into her hair and planted kisses on her chin, her jaw, her neck, working his way down to the soft swell of her breasts. ‘Oh that's good, yes right there, oh yes, lower … lower,' she whispered.

‘Hmm, love it? This with you, can't get enough,' Kabe sighed. ‘The torment you put me through.'

‘Huh? We've known each other, how long? Not even forty-eight hours.'

‘No,' he murmured, working his way back to her neck, ‘known each other all our lives. You're sweet, always were …' he drawled, and smiling, lifted his head. ‘Your mouth … fuck, woman, your mouth can make me …' Lost for words he groaned and kissed her deeply. Then moved to nibble her earlobe and breathed, ‘You screw with my gut and make my chest hurt … You make me lose my mind.' Kabe pulled back. His yearning gaze leisurely examined every part of her face before coming to rest on her eyes. It seemed that her inability to hide her passion amused him: a lopsided smile eased into his mouth and then his dimple popped in.

His endearments made her belly flutter. ‘Yeah …' Belle agreed. She grabbed the back of his head and brought his mouth down on hers.

A flash of deep red caught her eyes. ‘Kabe! We're drifting straight into
The Pocket
! Quick, do something,' Belle pleaded, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Kabe swung around. ‘Shit!' He turned the engine on, put it in reverse, and grabbed the helm to sling his boat to the side, stopping them from ramming her father's sloop. ‘Jesus, that was close,' he said, one hand resting low on his narrow hip, while the other slowly slid back and forth across his abs.

Belle's eyes dropped and focused on his hand. Mesmerised, she found his movement erotic. A shiver forced her out of her trance. ‘Kabe, stop that!'

‘Stop what?' Kabe murmured, wicked eyes scanning her face.

‘That!' She steadfastly held her gaze with his, and pointed at his hand resting comfortably across his navel, a navel she wanted to explore, like the rest of him.

‘This?' He grinned, idly running his hand over his abdomen.

The boats collided with a gentle booming thud.

‘See—knock it off … save it for later.' She gave him a playful slap on the arm.

He grinned, and turned to make ready to tow her father's boat. ‘You should take photos,' Kabe suggested over his shoulder.

Belle unzipped the waterproof bag, got her camera ready, and slung the strap around her neck. She moved to the railing, taking shots of
The Ondine
and Kabe in action as well. Her sailor man was back in charge.

Oh, but wasn't he always?

Her thoughts drifted back to the last time she'd sailed with her grandfather. She smiled remembering his gnarled hands gripping the tiller. Now and then he'd turn and give her a toothy grin before his keen brown eyes darted back to scan the horizon. His wiry grey hair, ruffled by the breeze, jutted out from under his cap. His weather-beaten, wrinkled face had glowed with sheer happiness and pleasure of being out on the water. It had been a while since they had all sailed together. Their off-beat Australian, laced with Italian, humour, had often had her and Lexie rolling about laughing.

She helped Kabe secure her father's sloop to
The Ondine
with a towline.

‘Are you hungry?' Belle asked.