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Say You’ll Stay Page 15


  “Janelle was watching The Bachelorette. The winner gets a rose, right? You won the contest. This is your rose.”

  He shot her a bemused glance as he steered the car into the street. “You mean you’ve never seen it?”

  “No, I don’t watch much TV.”

  “I’ve never seen it either.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Dead serious.”

  Alyssa burst into laughter. “So neither of us had any idea what we were getting into.”

  “I had an idea.” He grinned. “But no, this is not how I expected to spend the week. Lucky for you I can rearrange my schedule on a whim.”

  “Truth.” She twirled the flower stem between two fingers. “Could you get away for another hotel adventure?”

  “You liked that?”

  “I did. Very much.”

  They were still kissing when Janelle banged open the front door and sighed. “Hello, this is very uncomfortable for your audience. How about you get out of the car, Aly, and we’ll call that your goodnight kiss?”

  Marc held her close an extra beat. “Next time, I’m not playing around.”

  Alyssa felt her eyes go wide and her cheeks flame. “That was playing?”

  He opened the car door for her and helped her stand up, laughter crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Foreplay. I’ll try anything twice, so ask for anything you want. Now go talk to your sister while I plan our New Year’s.”

  18

  Alyssa heard the wolf whistle and shot the offender an irritated glare. She was still working her way through her first paper cup of hot coffee, and she was never in the mood for obnoxious catcalls. Though she’d been warned it might happen.

  Alyssa followed the numbers past a flock of pelicans to the Escape’s slip. Marc waved. He took the small bag she had packed and dropped it on the deck before reaching over to help her jump across the choppy strip of water between the Escape and the pier.

  “Morning, gorgeous.” The kiss he gave her more than made up for the lack of caffeine and the catcalls combined.

  “I’ll stow this downstairs—”

  “It’s called below deck.”

  “I see we’re starting the sailing lesson right away.” Alyssa grinned. “Okay, I’ll take it below deck. I’m also going to top off my coffee before we jump into sails and ropes and knots.”

  “When you come up again, you can put on this little number.” He dangled some sort of blue ropey thing from two fingers. It didn’t look like a life vest.

  “Uh...” She held it up for closer examination. “I brought something better. For later.”

  He grinned at her. “This is an inflatable life vest. So you don’t have to wear the orange one.”

  “Well, then.” She climbed down the steep ladder into the cabin, pulled on a rash guard, and ditched the loose linen beach pants she was wearing over her yoga shorts. They’d work as makeshift swimwear for one trip. She buckled the life vest around her body, her sunglasses falling off her head onto the floor in the process. Marc hadn’t told her where they were going, though she knew it was about a two-hour journey up the coast. They could drive it in less time, but sailing was more fun. More to the point, by midafternoon, she’d have mastered the difference between an anchor and a wind instrument.

  Once they were cruising over the open water at speed, sailing was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time.

  “Here, take the wheel.”

  “Me?” Alyssa scooched into the captain’s seat. Marc’s warm palm slid along the curve of her rear as he moved by her to fiddle with a rope wound around a cleat. She grinned at her recently gained knowledge. Steering was fun.

  “Where am I supposed to go?” The boat dipped hard to one side as she spoke.

  “Just try to keep the ship upright. Bonus points if you can track that lighthouse.”

  Later, Marc made her untie some ropes and take down the sail. Wherever their destination was, they were arriving. He expertly steered their vessel down a row of canals bordered by homes, turning down one canal and then another. The big boat barely fit into the dock. Alyssa boasted many new vocabulary words after today.

  “Welcome to Saint James City, just off the San Carlos Bay and the Pine Island Aquatic Preserve. It’s a step up from a marina, and, best of all, it’s ours for tonight.”

  “We get a house? Without neighbors?” Maybe Christmas wasn’t over yet.

  “Don’t get used to it. A couple at the marina rent it out on Airbnb, but they had a cancelation.” He looped one arm around her waist and kissed her neck.

  Heat surged in her belly as his palm glided over her hip. Alyssa’s stomach chose that moment to growl ferociously.

  Marc chuckled. “We’d better feed you. Unfortunately, there won’t be any food here, so we’ll have to go out.” He unlocked the front door to a bright little cottage. The walls and floors gleamed white. Blue print curtains hung over the windows.

  “This is adorable.” Alyssa walked around slowly, trying hard not to imagine a part-time life here with Marc. No boss. No stress. No…

  Not happening. Work would follow her even if she did manage to get away every few weekends, and in between she’d wonder who else Marc was screwing. That was more stress than anyone needed. This was only a vacation mirage. “I’ll go clean up.”

  * * *

  Listening to the shower run over Alyssa’s naked body was killing Marc. He’d nearly died when she had shown up in his favorite little shorts that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination. Every time he managed to get ahold of himself all it took was one glance at her ass, and he snapped to attention faster than an Army cadet.

  Only a few hours had passed since he’d been inside her, but if anything, his desire for her had grown. He was voracious for her touch. It was better than anything he’d imagined all those years. She stepped out of the shower, her body cocooned in a towel. “Your turn.”

  Marc stepped into the shower and took care of business. He pulled on clean clothes and opened the door to discover Alyssa standing at the window. She turned and gave him a knowing little smile over her shoulder.

  “Ready?” she asked, reaching for the door.

  Marc’s mouth went dry. Her dress hugged her hips and her ass, then draped loosely from the waist on up. Best of all, Alyssa tottered on the ridiculous five-inch feathered and sequined heels.

  “Can you wear those shoes all the time?” he asked, crossing the room. His hands slid over her hips.

  Alyssa ground naughtily against him. “There’s a strict three-hour limit. After that my feet hurt.”

  “I can do a lot in three hours.”

  “You can do a lot in twenty minutes.” She giggled, pressing the door latch open. His forearm slammed it closed before she had opened it more than an inch.

  “We should order in.” His lips grazed the nape of her neck. Alyssa bent her head and moaned. He took the invitation she offered, sliding his hand under her skirt. With one quick motion, he shoved it up around her waist to reveal her lacy underwear. Not a thong. More coverage, but it was cut to display the perfect mounds of her ass like a picture frame.

  He could not get her naked fast enough. When his fingers found her, she was already wet. Mark dropped to his knees. Slowly, he kissed his way across her thighs, toward the pretty curls between them. Parting her, he swirled his tongue over the delicate little nub hidden there.

  Alyssa’s moan quickly became more urgent. He added a gentle fuel to the fire of her excitement by sliding his fingers inside her. Her body pulsed around him.

  Leaving him in the exactly the same predicament as before. Hard and aching and needing release.

  Marc stood up and tugged down her skirt. “I should’ve just joined you in the shower.”

  “Next time.” Alyssa tugged the dress over her head and tossed it aside. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

  As much as he loved her butt, she was one gorgeous total package. The sight of her naked and unfastening the belt of his jeans was a m
ovie he would be playing in his mind for years to come. The lady would not be denied. He kicked his jeans across the kitchen floor. Marc backed up until his bare rear end hit the kitchen counter, which he suddenly, desperately grasped with white-knuckled intensity as Alyssa’s lips closed around his cock. The mere sight of her half-closed eyes and long tresses at his waist was erotic enough to make him come. He dug his fingers into the fine thread of her hair.

  “If you don’t stop now, it’s over,” he said between clenched teeth.

  Alyssa glanced up. Her naughty leer hit him straight in the gut.

  She wouldn’t.

  To his astonishment, she did. She tightened her fingers around his shaft and licked the top of his head. Marc’s hips flexed involuntarily. Her warm mouth opened and sucked just enough to push him over the edge as she ran her palm over his shaft, pumping him dry.

  His fist was filled with the silk of her hair. Not holding it tight, only touching the threads like a lifeline as the world telescoped back out. His limbs slowly released, a drugged contentment stealing through his body.

  He could not give this up. He had to make her stay. Alyssa pushed herself up, wiping at a stray glob with a kitchen towel. “I’m not fit for public view again. Guess we’ll have to stay in. It’s hard to get a table on New Year’s anyway.”

  “We need food.” He rummaged through the cabinets and thrust a stack of menus at her with one shaking hand. Alyssa shuffled through them while he went to clean up.

  “Steakhouse takeout?”

  Marc eyed her skeptically. “Shouldn’t we just go out if we’re going to order fancy?”

  “The other logos look like food poisoning on a platter.” She’d shimmied back into her dress, which was falling off one shoulder.

  He barked a laugh. “You don’t eat the logos, silly.”

  “I know. But I like to think the design is indicative of the final product.”

  It was as good an approach to selecting a restaurant as any. “Maybe we should go out after all. Those shoes are too nice to keep in here.”

  “They’re not really made for walking. But sure, if you want to go out, I’ll get ready again.” She sauntered back toward the bedroom, a little smile playing over her lips.

  She didn’t make it very far, and they didn’t go out for dinner either.

  * * *

  Later, Marc switched on the motor and drove them back out into the bay, where a hundred boats bobbed as dark shadows against the gray horizon. Fireworks cracked and popped all around them. The real show had yet to begin.

  Marc lowered the anchor. Neither of them bothered with life jackets, since they weren’t going anywhere except the deck or below deck.

  He disappeared below and returned with a bottle of champagne and two plastic flutes. It fizzed a little in the starlight as they clinked glasses.

  “Quick selfie,” she demanded, holding out her phone. The sky flashed green and yellow, purple and red. Gold rained down from the heavens.

  “Sure.” Marc took the phone from her and reached out with his long arm, capturing the first fireworks behind them. “This is going out to ten thousand people, right?”

  “More or less. Depends on the day. I don’t keep track.”

  He turned and kissed her full on the mouth. Alyssa kissed him back as the flash burst again and again. He put down the phone and hauled her onto his lap. A sharp thunderclap of rockets exploding brought their heads up.

  “Happy New Year,” he whispered.

  “You too.”

  Marc’s warm palms slid her skirt higher. Already, she wanted him again. Would never stop wanting him like this. It was a huge problem she couldn’t bring herself to face. Not yet. Cinderella hadn’t felt this dread as the clock ticked down to goodbye with her prince. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as the new house is permitted, I’ll give notice on the slip at the marina.”

  She nodded against his shoulder. A shiver wracked her body.

  “I want you to go with me.”

  Alyssa sat up. Couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter escaping her lips. Saw the flash of raw pain in Marc’s eyes and shook her head as though to take it back. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have responsibilities. I have a job. A lease. I can’t pack up and run off on a whim.”

  He knew that. Didn’t he? He didn’t live a normal adult life. Maybe he didn’t understand why she couldn’t drop everything.

  “I’ll wait. How long do you need to wind things down?”

  He was serious. Alyssa shoved away from him. Her bare feet hit the deck so hard the shock reverberated up her spine. “I can’t go with you, Marc. It’s crazy of you to ask.”

  “Why?” he demanded, his tone low and hurt.

  “Because sailing is your dream. Not mine. I have obligations.” Her sister, for one. She wasn’t sure how to help Janelle yet, but she’d find a way. Quitting her job would mean turning her back on family. She’d never do that, and Marc had no right to ask it of her, either.

  “Okay. I’ll cancel the trip if you look for a job here.”

  “Marc, I don’t want you to resent me for making you give up your dreams. Besides, I’d never ask you to do that.” Alyssa placed her hand on his arm. “The timing’s off.”

  “It’s never going to be the right time unless one of us compromises. There’ll always be barriers, Aly, unless we decide to stop letting them get in our way.”

  He was right, and he was wrong. There wasn’t a choice to be made. Not for her. “This was never meant to extend beyond tonight.”

  His jaw had turned concrete, and his eyes blazed.

  Marc was dangling something that, under any other circumstances, she’d jump at. But the prospect of a long-distance relationship with a man whose history with women was checkered at best was way too much, way too soon, no matter how good he was in bed. What if she left her job and it didn’t work out with Marc, only to find herself unemployed and living with her parents a few weeks later? She’d be in a worse spot than her little sister was. She hadn’t shaken free of Zach only to latch onto the next available guy the minute he asked, even if the guy was Marc.

  Especially if the guy was Marc.

  At least she was going home tomorrow. Back to her big ambitions, her tiny apartment, and the city where she was an invisible cog in an uncaring machine. Until then, she was stuck on this boat or in the not-much-bigger house. She was alone with Marc and all his wounded pride. Well, tough. It wasn’t fair of him to go and change the rules. Caring about him didn’t mean anything had fundamentally changed. Their lives still only intersected over the fence separating their parents’ houses.

  “This was supposed to be fun.” Alyssa’s voice carried on the wind, louder than she’d intended. She snatched up her champagne glass and downed the contents.

  “Fun,” he spat, pushing a button to pull up the anchor. “That’s all you wanted from me, all those years?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “The last week hasn’t changed your mind?”

  Yes. “No.”

  She hadn’t been thinking beyond this week. All her goals in relation to Marc had terminated at New Year’s. Had she changed her mind? About who Marc was, yes. Absolutely. About his interest in a relationship? Not at all. One minute he was fighting for her and the next he couldn’t get her naked fast enough. He’d been sending mixed messages at best. Her heart said one thing. Her head, in full control of her mouth, the opposite.

  * * *

  He should’ve seen this coming.

  He hadn’t changed her mind. Putting up with her sister’s demented contest scheme and standing back while she finished things with her ex had been tough. Hell, he’d trusted her enough to abandon everything he knew about safe sex. That had been a big moment, and he knew she understood what it meant to him. Marc knew, knew in his bones, that what they had could last. He needed to find out how far it could take them.

  Yet she’d laughed in his face when he’d asked her to go with him. It was supposed to be fun.
r />   “Yeah. Chasing after a girl who hardly noticed me for years, only to find out I’m nothing but her toy, is a fine way to spend Christmas week. Next time, buy a fucking vibrator.”

  She’d refilled her champagne glass and was sitting on the banquette staring out at the passing houses. Most were brightly lit. Music pumped loud, carrying over the water, mocking the tension between them.

  “I’m sorry.” Sullen. What the fuck did Aly have to sulk about?

  “Me too.” He cut the engine and hopped onto the dock, grateful for the cover of night and the chance to focus on tying the boat down.

  He reached out to help her across the gap. She ignored his outstretched hand and landed gracefully on the wood deck.

  Marc snatched his hand back as if she’d slapped it. Undoubtedly, if he went back to the cabin with her, they’d end up having aggressive, hot sex. Part of him—the usual part—was enthusiastic about the prospect. Somewhere north of his belt, though, his heart hammered as though it were trying to smash itself against his ribs.

  He was sick and tired of her writing him off as fun. He was far too invested in her to keep having mind-blowing sex and then simply walk away. For him, everything had changed this week. “Go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  She hesitated, then went inside. But he didn’t follow her. He’d sleep on the Escape before enduring another minute of this charade.

  19

  “What in the name of Christ did you do last night?”

  Alyssa’s head pounded with every terse syllable. She was cold. Her neck had cramped from sleeping at an odd angle on the couch. What had she done?

  Oh, right. She was mad at him for inviting her to go with him on his sail-around-the-world folly. Peering up at Marc’s dark eyes, she croaked, “You didn’t come back.”

  “I didn’t want to see you.” His jaw hardened.

  Sass kicked in where humility would’ve played better. “Yeah, I can tell.”

  He almost said something, stopped himself, and shoved a coffee mug at her. “You’ll feel better if you drink this. I’ll go pack your stuff.”