Page 41 of Fall onto me
I lift my hands up into a diving position, pretending to nearly jump overboard, and he quickly gets up and grabs me.
“There could be great whites,” he says nervously.
“You can fight them.” I grin, placing my palms on his chest to push him away.
And then I jump.
The water rushes around my body, warm and comforting. It’s so clear that I can see to the bottom. Corals tucked into sand, swarms of fish enjoying their day.
It’s almost perfect, except for one thing. “Get—”
I can’t finish my sentence as Foster cannonballs into the water, scaring away anything that could have been near us. He surfaces, shaking out his midnight hair, before turning to me. “You really think I could fight a shark?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows.
I laugh, wiping water off my face. “I do.”
The morning is spent like this, chasing each other around the ocean. Hanging lazily from the ladder on the back of the ship so we don’t get tired.
But there’s one thing we can’t do in here.
Our bodies are dripping with saltwater as the sun kisses our backs.
His eyes roam over my body as we make it back to the towel filled with food we still haven’t touched. “Still hungry?” he asks.
I murmur, “Starving,” .
Now it’s his turn to bite his lip. I lean forward.
He’s on me in seconds, running his hands over my skin, through my hair, on my face.
I rip off my bathing suit top, tossing it nowhere in particular. His inked hands cup my breasts, squeezing and playing with them. “I can’t wait to fuck you out here,” he breathes into my neck, hoisting me on his body.
His already hard cock throbs against me, inviting me. I toss my head back as his fingers trail between my legs, teasing and stroking.
The speaker clicks on. It’s an odd thing, hearing that in the middle of the ocean. “Is someone on here?” I choke. It’s louder than the speaker Foster talked to me on earlier, this time both louder and close.
“We are approaching the vessel. Put your hands up!”
I sit up, rigid and hollow as swarms of black FBI boats flank every corner. Foster quickly grabs his shirt and yanks it over my body. “I repeat, we are approaching the vessel. Stand on the bridge! Hands up!”
I lift my hands, unable to stand. “What is hap … happening.” I let out with a shaky breath.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s not good.”
Before I can take in a breath there are six men in all black, pointing their guns at us. “Who else is on this boat!” one yells.
“Keep your fucking hands up!” another shouts, and I hold my arms as tight up as I can. They’re nervous, we’re nervous.
“Wh …What is wrong?” I ask.
“Shh,” Foster whispers. “Stand up baby.”
I look up at him, and as he moves an inch to help me, the men stomp forward and scream at him. “On your knees!” one tells me. “Left foot on the ground, now!” I follow the instructions, although it feels like my brain has been replaced with cement, and I stand.
It feels like we’re standing there for days, with our hands up in the air, so high I can’t even feel them anymore.
“Good one today,” a man says behind us, then multiple loud thuds send me spiraling. I go to peek around but the officer in front of me levels his gun on my chest as I do, so I stay straight.
“Don’t move,” Foster breathes. “Don’t move, Skyler.”