Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) (8 page)

Chapter Seven

Jeff loved the way Sharona’s cheeks became more and more flushed. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Though he could picture her in a few other places he’d like to compare.

“I see it!” She wore an excited grin, her brown eyes bright. A few feet to the left, floating like a piece of driftwood, was gorgeous Old Faithful number five, the one worn by their old mate, Waltzing Matilda.

“Should I grab the net?” Sharona asked. She must have been paying attention to the other retrieval trips because she already had the long pole in her hand, the dripping net off the side.

“Bogie will come about,” Jeff said. “Then pass the net to me. Or, why don’t you do the honors. Bogie, get us right up along side.”

The boat slowly came about, so the tag would be within easy reach.

“Ready?” he said to Sharona, who looked as excited as a little girl seeing her first joey. Quite different from the woman who’d almost lost her tucker a few hours ago.

“I’m ready,” she said, grinning and gripping the pole.

“We’re slowing. Wait till we come to a complete stop, though. No need to fish you out, too. Although, isn’t it time for
you
to be the one in the wet shirt?”

She eyed him over her shoulder and giggled. “Will you ever let me live that down?”

“I don’t plan on it,” he said with a grin as Bogie cut the engine, allowing the boat to drift. The hot-pink transmitter was only a few feet away.

“I think I can reach it.”

“Make sure you’ve got a good grip and your feet are stable.”

She rose up on her toes a few times. “Stable, sir.”

“Go for it.”

She pressed the front of her hips against the boat and bent over the side, far enough to dip the net into the water, giving Jeff a mighty sweet view. As she was about to scoop up the transmitter, he heard shouts coming from the mother ship and Pax’s voice crackled through the walkie.

“Pull back! Matilda.”

Ice shot up Jeff’s spine as he watched Sharona teetering over the edge of the boat.

“I got it!” she said triumphantly. Before she could lift the net out of the water, he spotted the fin, then the nose of Matilda. In about two seconds, the shark would be on top of them.

He lunged Sharona’s way. “Arm inside!”

She gawked at him. “Wha—”

There was a huge splash, drenching him, then multiple splashes.

Before he could make another move, the entire net, as well as its contents, were ripped away by the shark’s jaws. Jeff had a tight hold of Sharona and yanked her back. She shrieked, still clutching the gnarled pole. One single bite and Matilda has chomped clean through the metal.

“Drop it,” Jeff said. When she did, he saw the blood.

Sharona was
not
going to lose control of her stomach again. Not for the second time in one day. What would everyone think? If news got back, Garry would give her milquetoast assignments the rest of her career.

She
had
to hold it together, though her churning stomach from hanging upside down over the side of the boat, then being yanked back made that pretty difficult.

“You’re hurt,” Jeff said, one of his arms clamping tightly around her. His sexy accent was like music to her ears, already soothing her ails. “Where did she get you?”

She looked at him, trying to appear steady and calm and not about to puke on his shoes. “Who?”

“You’re bit—she breeched so fast. Damn it—I didn’t even see her get you.”

His rapid-fire words, the pale, frantic look on his face… Confusion filled Sharona’s chest with the cold burn of panic.

“Bit? I don’t…” That’s when she noticed the blood. Before jumping to the most terrifying conclusion, she noted that all her fingers were intact and also that the pole she’d been holding, the one that was halfway gone now; the other half either in the stomach of a shark or on its way to Davy Jones’s Locker.

“It’s a cut.” She’d never had a weak stomach about blood, though it wasn’t exactly jolly seeing her own all over the white floor of the speedboat.

“Where?” Jeff gently took her wrist to look at her hand. “Too jagged for a shark bite,” he noted, examining her palm, sounding confused but relieved.

“It’s from the pole. I was trying to keep a grip on it when….” She had a sudden flash of the white underside, the black eye, rows of teeth.
Oy
.

Maybe thinking she was about to sway back, Jeff took her around the waist. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “It’s not a bad cut. I’ve had worse, I promise.” He pulled her to his chest, one hand rubbing her back.

She didn’t fight it; her hand did sting…a little bit. Besides, it felt really nice to have someone taking care of her for a change. With four younger siblings and an ex-fiancé who’d never learned to do his own laundry, she’d done most of the protecting and caretaking throughout her life. So she rested a cheek against Jeff’s firm chest, breathing in the smell of his shirt—now wet from the ocean—and listened to his words of comfort. She felt his heart beating, faster than hers.

“It’s not that bad—”

He shushed her, called for Bogie to get the first-aid kit, then pulled her to the bench seat and eased her down.

“Let me see it again.”

Sharona opened her clenched fist, displaying her gashed palm. “It stings more than anything,” she said as salt water trickled into the center.

“Doesn’t look deep.” He placed a cotton pad in the middle of her palm over the cut. “Hold this on there until we get back to the ship, then we’ll treat it. Let’s go, Bogie.”

Sharona stared down at the mangled pole on the floor, reality hitting.
Oh, no. What did I do?
She swallowed hard, then peered up at Jeff, at his earnest blue eyes fixed on her. “I’m so sorry, Jeff,” she said, sudden tears stinging her eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Did what? You could’ve lost an arm. They don’t usually get that close.” His grip around her tightened. “I don’t know what I was thinking, letting you hang halfway over the bloody side.”

“I mean about the transmitter. I dropped it. Or…the shark ate it.”

He examined her hand again, then placed it on his thigh. “Accidents happen. All that matters is you’re safe.” He ran his hand down her arm, shoulder to fingertips. “You might need this again.”

He was being so sweet, even after she’d totally screwed up. Every time he touched her or stroked her skin reassuringly, her stomach cartwheeled. She wanted to thank him properly. To touch his face, run her fingers through his hair. Then she wanted to straddle his lap and show him how she truly felt. But before long, they pulled up to the helm of the
Mad Hatter
.

She felt a little embarrassed as the crew gawked in silence. Despite all the blood—there goes another shirt—it was just a cut. She totally loved the attention from Jeff, though, and missed the safe feeling of his arms being around her. Maybe she should’ve played out the panic a little longer while they were alone. Who knew if she would ever get the chance again.

“Nothing to see here,” Sharona called out to the crew. “Just a classic klutz with a weak stomach. And it’s only a Bloody Mary cocktail.”

Jeff burst into laughter and pulled her in so his chin rested on top of her head. “You make me laugh,” he whispered. A second later, he let go so they could stand. “She’s all right, guys,” he added as he helped her step onto the ship. “The
pole
bit her, not Matilda. Though I do suspect our girl down there has a bit of a crush.”

“Lucky me,” Sharona said.

Some of the guys laughed politely, and Jeff slid an arm around her shoulders. “We do need to get this washed. I’ll take her below.”

He pulled her tight to his side as they walked toward the companionway, Sharona holding her hurt hand against her chest as they went. He let her go down the ladder first but stayed right behind her. “There,” he said, pointing to the rear of the quarters. “Have a seat on my bunk.”

The tiny dozen or so individual sleeping areas were cut into the hull of the ship, like little caves, only big enough for a bed and a few shelves for clothes and personal items. She sat on the bunk and bounced a few times. It had a nice spring to it.

“Before I get the first aid kit,” Jeff said, “let me grab something dry—I’m soaked. And looks like you’ve got a spot or two on you.” He eyed the front of her shirt. Though the spilled tomato juice had been a cheerier shade of red, the blood from her cut certainly did the job. He leaned toward where she sat on the bunk and reached behind her to retrieve two T-shirts from the duffel bag on his shelf. “Will be a little large on you, I’m afraid,” he said, handing her one.

“Thank you.”

They stared at each other for a few still, silent moments…an unspoken standoff of Who-Will-Take-Off-Their-Shirt-First.

Jeff cleared his throat, then dropped his gaze, making a point of looking out the small, round window. Sharona quickly peeled off her blood-splattered top, feeling irrationally shy. Jeff’s replacement T-shirt swam on her, the neck hole sliding off both shoulders, but at least it was clean and dry, and had a faint whiff of its sexy owner.

In the two seconds it took to get herself situated, Jeff had pulled his shirt over his head. She couldn’t help staring at his perfect chest, the tan lines and flat muscles. The sensitive nerves at the tips of her fingers twitched, longing to touch him, trace along the smooth skin. As he turned to the side to toss his wet shirt over a chair, her breath caught.

“Jeff! What is that?” She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the long, shiny imprints running in a half circle from the top of his shoulder to the middle of his side, crossing over his spine.

He took a step back and angled that side of his body away. “It’s just a scar.”

“From what?” Without thinking, she stretched out a hand and ran the back of her finger over the jagged lines, dozens of tiny triangles…the exact size of—

“Shark,” he said softly. “I was sixteen.”

“This is from one bite?” Her heart beats came slower and heavier while her throat began to close, making it hard to breathe. “It’s…it’s half your body.”

“She was a great white, seventeen, eighteen footer,” Jeff said, his voice hushed but steady. “Or so my surfing mates told me. I never saw the whole thing. Just the face. The eye.”

“Jeff,” she whispered, her hand skimming across the part of the scar over his stomach. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He nodded slowly but didn’t speak right away, staring past her shoulder at nothing. “We…we knew we shouldn’t have been out there,” he finally began. “There’d been sightings all day, but”—he paused to shrug—“we wanted to catch some waves. We weren’t thinking. Anyway, I was about to take the next curl when something knocked my board. I saw a shadow but didn’t piece it together fast enough. Wouldn’t have mattered anyway, there was nothing I could do. When she knocked me again, I wiped out. I was disoriented in the water, tossing in the waves when I felt another bump. That’s when she had me.”

“
Had
you?”

Silently, he drew a half circle across his stomach, following the scar. “Funny thing is, she had my arm inside her mouth but it didn’t have a scratch on it after.”

“How did you get away?” Sharona asked through her tightening throat.

“She didn’t want to eat me. I’d pissed her off, being in her territory. She shook me around for a while, but I was lucky she never rolled me down; instead she kept us on the surface so I could breathe. I kept digging my fingers into her eye until she got tired and let go.”

Sharona’s mouth fell open but all she could do was shake her head, wordlessly.

“I lost a lot of blood, but like I said, she wasn’t trying to kill me. Sharks are territorial and I was on her turf. In a way, it was my fault.”

“But…you study sharks now,” she said. “After you were attacked, I’d think you would hate them.”

“Hate?” he repeated, tipping his chin to gaze down at her. “They’re fascinating. I became obsessed with studying them, figuring out how they think and why they behave the way they do. We share a planet with them. I have a healthy fear, but hate?” He shook his head. “It’s the closest thing to true love.”

She stared at him, taking in his words. “What you said last night,” she whispered. “About not taking your shirt off in front of just anyone.” She touched a finger to the scar, feeling the warmth of his skin, his beautiful soul beneath. “Is this why?”

“It freaks people out,” he answered in a strangled voice that made her ache to hold him, comfort him.

“Jeff…” She rose to her feet and stood before him, running a hand up his stomach, feeling the flat planes. When she reached the top of the scar, she pressed both palms flat against him, moving up along his smooth skin. She felt his hard muscles flex when she reached the notch at the center of his chest. She splayed her fingers, needing to explore more, but suddenly, he caught her wrists.

“We…” He started, then swallowed, glancing away. “We need to tend to your cut.” He let go and disappeared around a corner.

Sharona exhaled and slumped back onto the bunk, trying to catch her breath. Jeff returned carrying a larger first-aid kit than what had been on the speedboat. He was still shirtless, the dry one draped over his shoulder. The bunk she was on wasn’t big and when he sat beside her, she could smell the salty tang of the sea mixed with something clean and manly. Her desire was almost blinding.

He took her hand and poured antiseptic into the hollow of the palm. It stung worse than the salt water.

“If it hurts, that means it’s working,” he said, probably noticing her flinch. But there was a smile in his voice. He pulled her hand toward him and rested it on his thigh. “So, are you ever going to tell me what happened?” he asked, looking down at her hand as he continued to clean the wound.

“I told you, it was the pole, I was trying—”

“I meant last night.” He lifted his eyes to her. “Sharona, why didn’t you come back to me?”

Chapter Eight

When she didn’t reply, Jeff lowered his eyes, running a finger across her palm. The cut wasn’t bad, and he knew he didn’t need to coddle her. But the way she’d been staring at his scar… It had shaken her up, as it did with other women.

But Sharona wasn’t like other women. It wasn’t horror in her eyes as he expected, or even pity. She seemed touched…in a loving way. She was brave and caring and feisty, like the sharks he loved, though more of a beaut than even the most stunning great whites. It sucked that they’d lost Matilda’s tracker, but that was nothing compared to what could have happened.

If she hadn’t been injured—as minor as it was—Jeff might have manned up and finally finished that kiss, the one that had started at the hotel pub yet felt incomplete all these hours later.

Why the hell had he killed the mood by bringing up last night?

“Oh,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. “You noticed that, did you?”

“I’m a scientist. It’s my job to catch the details. And yes, I did notice your acute absence. And I didn’t like it.”

“Sorry.” She dropped her gaze to the floor.

“I don’t want an apology, Sharona. I want to know what happened. If you changed your mind, I get it.” He paused and ran a hand over his face. “You were the one who started it.”

“I know.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve never done anything like that—come on to a stranger. Never even instigated a kiss before.” She laughed, but it was dark and self-conscious—not like the woman he was getting to know. “I guess I was giving myself permission because I was in a foreign country for one night.”

He leaned away from her instinctively. “So I was an experiment?”

“No. I thought it might be…an adventure.” She lowered her gaze again. “I was into it, into
you
. Which I’m sure you knew.”

“I had a pretty good idea,” he said, relieved that he hadn’t imagined it.

“I know it’s silly, but before we went to your room, I wanted to brush my teeth. I’d been traveling all day and felt a little worn out.” She smiled. “I didn’t want to feel worn out with you.”

“That’s why you went to your room?”

She nodded. “When I got there and had two seconds to think without you kissing me and making my brain mush, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl, Jeff. I’m sorry I gave you that impression.” She fidgeted with her rings; it was her nervous habit he’d noticed. “I was trying to be someone different for a change. But at the heart of me, I’m not that person.”

When she finally paused to breathe, Jeff blew out a long, relieved exhale followed by a laugh that shook the bunk.

“What?” she asked, sounding a little hurt.

He scrubbed at his jaw. “Sharona, I’m not that person, either. It was shocking how it happened, but before I knew it, I was too caught up. Of course I was attracted to you, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it, not with me leaving the next morning. I’m not built that way.”

“That’s surprising.”

“My mother taught us manners.”

“Remind me to thank her.”

He tried to ignore the way her smile made the pit of his stomach fill with heat and burn with lightning, another wave of want pulling him toward this woman. “There were five of us boys,” he added.

“I have four siblings, too.”

He touched a lock of her hair. “I know. You told me about your family last night. It’s funny, I didn’t know your name, but I knew about your childhood and your first boyfriend and how you failed your driving test. It was like we’d gone on five dates in two hours.”

“I felt the same way, like we were friends as kids and were playing catch-up.”

He glanced down, adjusting the gauze around her hand. “What was it like growing up in the chocolate capitol of the world?”

“What?” Her forehead furrowed at the question. “Oh. No,
Natalie’s
from Hershey. We met in college. I grew up in Tampa.”

Jeff took a few beats before asking, “Is that where you live now?”

No, he couldn’t possibly be so lucky. First, meeting an amazing woman like Sharona one night, then remeeting her the next day. But this?

She shook her head. “My parents are still there, but I moved to Miami for school and fell in love with it.”

Jeff sat back—this was beyond amazing. “
I
live in Miami, too.”

They were quiet for a moment. The only sounds were the chatters from topside. Sounded like everyone above deck was busy preparing the ship for their next stop. Also meaning, no one would be coming down.

“That’s…” she said, her dark eyes blinking once, slowly. “Handy.”

“I travel a lot for work, obviously. My funding comes from UM, but I work out of the uni, too. It’s my home base. And here I assumed our meeting was an accident.”

“I don’t spill my drinks on just any man, you know.” She touched his cheek. “Only dashing shark lovers with panty-dropping accents.”

He chuckled and looked down, running a finger over the inside of her wrist. “I was more than willing to let last night progress naturally, even though it wasn’t my style, either. I went along with it because…well, you really didn’t give me a choice.”

“I was that irresistible last night?”

“Last night?” Jeff couldn’t help saying. “Try right now. Try every damn second since you stepped aboard this vessel.”

Sharona took in a quiet breath, then held it, like Jeff was holding his, all the while his heart picked up speed, galloping like a mountain brumby.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “Or that kiss. All of them.”

“I know. It’s like, we aren’t done. Like every kiss is…”

“Not enough.”

The air between them sparked.

Jeff didn’t give her a chance to make the first move like last night. He wanted to take over, take the pressure off them both to be something they weren’t.

He slid a hand behind her head and pulled her to him, getting a fresh taste of her lips. She leaned in, resting her hands on his chest, her touch against his bare skin burned into his blood. Right as he was about to pull her closer, she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her soft body against him, knocking his head against the low-hanging arch of the bunk.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t speak, but looked her once more in the eyes, touched his forehead to hers, then scooped his hands under her perfect ass, lifted her up, and laid her flat on the bunk.

As soon as her head hit the soft bed, Sharona was on autopilot, reacting on instinct and blinding passion. What her instinct told her, what every fiber in her body
screamed
, was to hold onto Jeff Cruz and not let go.

His body hovered over her, braced by his elbows, while his hot mouth pressed against hers, sweet and firm, pushing her head deeper into the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair, knotting at the back of his head, keeping him close. There was barely enough room on the bunk for one person, let alone two, especially when one was the size of Jeff.

Finally, he lowered on top of her, moving his mouth to her cheek and ear. She dug her fingers into the back of his head, arching as he ran his lips under her jaw, then across her neck. His breath was hot and perfect against her skin and her heart thumped like the engine of a motorboat.

Sensing what she wanted next, he skimmed his hands down her sides, sliding up the inside of her too-big T-shirt. In response, she wrapped her legs around him and clung to his shoulders, feeling hard, toned muscles and smooth bare skin. She needed to be skin to skin with him, needed her stupid clothes out of the way, so she lifted her arms over her head to remove her shirt, but ended up bashing her hands against the bunk like an oaf.

Jeff lifted his chin, his blue eyes like the deep blue of a sea she could swim in forever. “This might not work,” he whispered, his breath coming in jagged, desperate pants.

“Give me two seconds and I’ll make it work,” she promised, attempting to twist so she could pull off the tangled T-shirt if he wasn’t going to do it. “Why is this bunk so
tiny
?”

He smiled fiendishly and dipped his chin, planting hot kisses along her collarbone. Sharona forgot all about her clothes when Jeff secured one of her wrists and held it above her head, pinning her in place, his mouth moving slowly up the inside of her arm. With her free hand, she cradled the back of his head and moved to his neck. When her mouth found the spot she liked, she hovered there, breathing in, tasting the salty, manly tang of his skin. Then, with every part of her body that was connected to his—her arm, her legs around him, her mouth on his neck—she clamped down.

Jeff’s body jolted over her, and he drew in a hard, sharp breath. She giggled against his neck as she loosened her grip. After one last suck and gentle nibble, she removed her mouth from his neck.

“Were those your teeth?” he asked, pulling back to look at her, a sexy, questioning gleam in his eyes.

“Just a little love bite,” she whispered, running the back of a finger across the spot, admiring her work. “I thought you should know how good it’s
supposed
to feel.” Tenderly, she kissed the fading welt, feeling his body tremble. “I hope I wasn’t too rough for you, Mr. Great White.”

Jeff gazed down with an expression she couldn’t read. “Damn it all, Sharona,” he said with a new fire behind his eyes. His mouth was over hers before she was able to take a breath. She parted her lips, wanted to open everything for him like she never had before. She wiggled, trying again to peel off her top. This time, Jeff was there to help.

“Slowly,” he whispered. “Allow me.” He moved his hand onto her bare stomach, then inched up the hem of his T-shirt she wore, exposing her lacy bra a centimeter at a time. “You should always wear nothing but my clothes.” The look of concentration and admiration on his face was killing her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, dipping his chin to kiss her collarbone, the middle of her stomach, the spot right below the front clasp of her bra.

“I want…” she panted, wrapping her legs around him even tighter.

“Shhh. Hold on,” he whispered, his lips touching her mouth as he took her wrists again and held them above her head.

Sharona was all good with foreplay, but seriously, a full day of it was enough. When she struggled to pull free, he placed an index finger over her mouth, and she heard footsteps coming down the ladder.

“Cruz?”

Pax, though she couldn’t see him.

Jeff sighed against her neck. “Yeah?” he answered while gazing down at her, a beckoning fire blazing behind his eyes.

“We’re about ready. Everything is stowed. Manny says another five.”

“Yeah, thanks, mate. Be right there.”

A second later, she heard movement up the ladder.

“Sorry,” Jeff whispered.

“It’s better than him walking in thirty seconds later.” She nipped his earlobe. “Trust me.”

“Damn. And I was just about to show you a more interesting meaning for ‘down under.’” His eyes crinkled at the edges. “But I don’t pay Pax enough to keep that information from getting back to the crew.”

Sharona still had a hold of him. His smell, the smooth, warm skin and muscles were too delicious to let go of. Since Jeff didn’t seem in a hurry to roll off, she gave him a squeeze, slid her hands as far down the curve of his back as she could reach, then kissed him.

His response was unlike the other kisses they’d shared. Up until now, they’d been fevered and frantic, fueled by passion and dangerous timing. But now, Jeff took his time, trading breaths and touches and caresses, like he wanted to milk those five minutes until he had to rejoin the crew above. With each tender movement of his mouth and hands, Sharona felt bits of her brain melt away, her bones turning to liquid, melting into him.

He ran a hand through her hair and kissed every inch of her mouth, her cheeks. This was the longest moment they’d been alone since last night, but still…incomplete. Every touch made her anticipate what would come next.

After one last deep kiss, Jeff slowly exhaled and collapse on top of her, but then quickly rolled to the side, half of his large body hanging off the bunk. “I have to get up there,” he said, his sweet, labored breath caressing her ear.

“I know.”

“But believe me, I’m not finished with you, baby.” He kissed the side of her neck, sending shivers through her bloodstream.

She exhaled a quiet, dreamy moan of pleasure, stroking the back of his head. “Not even close to finished.”

He rolled all the way off the bunk and onto his knees, resting his forearms on the bunk and dropping his chin like he was positioned for bedtime prayer. She heard his breath and saw his back raising and falling with each inhale.

She pulled in her knees, swung her legs over the side of the bunk, and sat up. Jeff placed a hand on her knee, running a thumb over her skin, moving it farther up her thigh. When their eyes locked, she lifted an eyebrow.

“I better get out of here,” he said. “I think Manny would overcharge me if we destroy this bunk.”

“Tease,” she said, pinching his ear.

He laughed and rolled onto the balls of his feet, then stood. “It might be awkward,” he said, almost like an afterthought. “With our jobs, you know.”

“You’re worried about that, too?”

“I meant about going topside together. But you mean?”

“After that,” she said, with a touch of dread. “Tomorrow. Back in Miami. What do you think?”

He crouched down and took her chin in one hand. “I think it will work. We’re on the same side. I realized that today.”

“So did I,” she said, feeling tears of relief burn her throat.

“Nothing remotely unethical went down,” he added. “No confidences were breached and absolutely no favoritism.”

Unable to repress the desire, she reached out to cradle his face in her hands. She pressed her lips to his forehead, his cheek, his ear. “No favoritism?” she whispered while nibbling his earlobe.

Jeff snickered. “The last ten minutes do not count.” After one more kiss, he said, “I should go up first. I don’t worry about Pax or Manny or the other guys.” He shook his head. “It’s that reporter…”