Page 51 of Naughty November
SEVEN
MAX JENSEN
There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was going back to the campsite. First of all, I needed Reid alone. Second, I was done with sand.
I winced as I zipped up my shorts. Then I kicked off my shoes, ready to say goodbye to them forever.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“To the boat,” I said, wading out into the water. “So are you. Let’s go.”
Motherfucker, I hurt everywhere. I had sand in places…
My entire back felt like it was on fire, my jaw ached for some reason, my ass was so sore that my breathing hitched every time I accidentally clenched down, and I had bruises forming along my ribcage and thighs.
When the water was deep enough, I dove under and found relief in the chill. The water was fucking perfect, except it stung. My bottom lip and some spot along my shoulder blades had been bleeding.
I resurfaced and scrubbed at my face, and I made sure he wasfollowing. If he hadn’t been, I would’ve punched him in the face and dragged him with me.
He couldn’t fucking do this to me if he wasn’t gonna follow through. All the things he’d said, the way he’d taken me—if he regretted something tomorrow or, hell, next month, I’d break. He was the one person on this planet who had that ability.
It was terrifying and elating at once.
“Be mine, darlin’.”
I swam toward the boat, toward the lone lantern Sam had lit under the canopy by the steering wheel.
Sam was the only one who’d brought his phone to the island too, because it could handle the water. Maybe Rome too. With their military backgrounds, they didn’t do anything half-assed. Heavy-duty gear all the way.
Then again, we probably didn’t have any service out here. We’d have to find another way to let them know Reid and I were staying on the boat. No matter what, I wasn’t going back.
Reid and I reached the boat at the same time, and we aimed for the back, where we could climb up on the little platform meant to dock Jet-Skis to.
“Your silence bothers me,” he said, out of breath.
I grunted as I hauled myself up. “I was busy swimming faster than sharks could catch me.”
“I was busy laying my heart on the line earlier,” he replied.
My mouth twitched, and I glanced back at him. Was he serious about all this?
Part of me refused to accept it, and I knew why. We’d never been an option before because I was too chickenshit to go after the one person who could wreck me. If he felt remotely similar about me, he could probably relate—and our fears were valid. We didn’t make sense, regardless of how much tonight had fucked me up in the best ways.
I was going to need a month or two to process my newfound obsession with being taken.
He’d been right on the money. I’d felt so fucking vulnerable, and it’d bordered on humiliation—and I wanted more of it.
“Come on.” He nudged me forward, and I hitched a leg over to the seating area. “If we’re sleeping here, I wanna get rid of the salt.”
Count me in.
He walked over to one of the compartments where the driver sat—fuck if I knew what it was called; I didn’t know anything about boats—and he dug out half a dozen bottles of water and two towels.
I got with the program and followed him to the side of the boat where water could drain out.
After stripping off my shorts, I opened the first bottle and?—
“Lemme.” Reid grabbed it from me.