Finding Wicked Page 9
“And, voilà! We have a skylight.”
“I can’t believe you made that happen. I love it!”
“If we’re going to be stuck here, we might as well have a few nice things,” he said with playfulness in his voice, crawling in beside me and wearing his sinful smile. “Tomorrow we’ll shoot for a nice crab dinner with a side of fish.”
“If you’ll teach me, I’ll help.”
“Come here.” He opened his arms for me to curl up next to him.
We lay in silence as I relaxed against him, listening to the sound of the waves.
I spoke next. “My mom used to play CDs of the sound of the ocean while she painted in her studio. She said it was the only thing that could make her let go of everything, so she could paint from her soul.”
“Does she still paint?”
“Some. It depends on how she feels. Some days are better than others, but the good days are few and far between.”
“Do you paint?”
“I do, but I suck at it. My mom enrolled me in lessons early on. She thought if I could release my anger at not having a father in my life, I would have been a happier child.”
“You’ve never mention you father.”
“Why would I? I don’t even know his name. He left us, deserted my mom when she needed him the most. He never, not once came around, not even when she sent him an ultrasound picture, not even when she sent him my welcome-to-the-world picture. She stopped sending anything after my first birthday invitation. He never acknowledged her calls or messages, and later he died of an overdose.”
“He couldn’t have known about you, Brooke. Anyone who ever knew you would want to stick around.”
I rolled to my side, facing him. “Why now? What made you be…un-asshole-ish now?”
He replaced the frown he wore with a chuckle. “Un-asshole-ish—that’s not even a word.”
I laid my head against his chest, gazing at the twinkling diamonds in the sky. “For days, all I’ve thought about is how you’re such a waste—panty-dropping gorgeous total package with the worst personality.”
His deep laughter filled the lean-to. “I had to be mean or I would have tried to fuck you the first day you stepped off the elevator onto my floor. Now George won’t want to kick my ass—he’ll want to kill me.”
Garrett stirred things inside me I’d never felt, made me feel content in the middle of nowhere. Though we were stranded for who knew how long, I felt safe, protected, and desired.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I woke up nestled against Garrett’s body, his masculine scent enticing me. Sunlight spilled through the small cutout in the ceiling of the lean-to, and the sound of waves surrounded us. His arm was wrapped around me, holding me tight against him. Mesmerized, I watched his chest rise and fall steadily. Careful not to wake him, I tilted my head enough to soak in the vision of his beauty.
Even while sleeping, the easy confidence of his resting face stole my breath. It took every ounce of willpower I had to keep from running my fingers over the structure of his jaw, to refrain from trailing the tips of my fingers along his delicious lips in a feathery caress.
Erotic images of all the ways he’d branded me with his hands and mouth elicited tingles in my veins. I forgot everything else—even my own name, as I thought about the way he’d made me feel.
The night before had been perfect.
I’d expected to feel regret, expected to feel remorseful and mortified.
Instead, something changed within me and my emotions bloomed to life. I didn’t feel the shame I’d lived with for so long. I felt alive, reeling, and completely crazy staring at his beautiful face.
My past had ruled me. I’d allowed it to, but not anymore. A smile tugged at his lips as he stirred, letting out a moan before pulling me on top of him.
“Good morning.” His voice was low and husky.
“Morning.”
He delved his hands into my hair pushing the stands away from my face and pressed his lips to mine. “I like the way my shirt looks on you.”
“Hmm, I seem to remember you thinking I wore boring clothes.”
“Nothing about you is boring. I said all that shit trying to convince myself I didn’t want to fuck you.” He pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I tried to stay away from you, Brooke. Christ, I tried to not want you.”
My breath whooshed out as I stared into the depths of his eyes. “Are you sorry?”
Pushing his hips upward, he rocked his erection against my thigh, his mouth less than an inch from mine. “Does this feel like I’m sorry? Since the day you walked into Cordelia’s office, I’ve had a fierce erection with your name on it.”
My body buzzed as excitement filled me. I loved the way he often paused before kissing me, letting me feel the breath from his words brush across my mouth. I loved the way he came in like a predator, hypnotizing me, teasing me with a taste before feeding me.
Gently, he nibbled, parting my lips and fucking my mouth with his tongue. A soft moan escaped me, mixing with his growl and filling the air inside the small space.
In a quick shift, he rolled me onto my back, pressing his knee between my thighs and anchoring over me. “We may be in the middle of hell, but waking up with you like this is the closest thing to heaven.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Pfft, with lines like that, no wonder the king of playboys has a long line of women hoping you’ll come back for more.”
His eyes darkened. “It wasn’t a line. I don’t say things I don’t mean. I’m not looking for anything serious, but you’ve done something to me, something I can’t shake, something I want more of. Being with you feels…right.”
“You can’t say that sort of stuff to me.”
“It bothers you for me to tell you last night was fucking amazing and I want you again? Brooke, I’ve been hard every single time you’ve been near me.”
I tilted my head toward him, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Don’t, Garrett. Don’t say things like that to me. I survived the biggest mistake of my life, and I don’t want you manipulating what this really is. Having fun and making the most of our circumstances is one thing, but I don’t want to hear sweet words comparing us to heaven. That bullshit isn’t necessary.”
His voice dipped almost to a whisper. “I plan to make the most of every minute with you. I’m going to fuck you and take you higher than the stars in the sky until your voice is hoarse from screaming my name, and it’ll be one hell of a memorable time waking up tangled together, feeling so close to heaven on earth every single time.”
I gulped. “You scare me. Lies scares me, Garrett.”
“I’ll never lie to you. Look, the sooner you realize I’m not Jason Christoff, the sooner you can relax and we can enjoy this. I won’t promise anything other than what we are here and now. I don’t have a fucking clue what will happen when we’re home, but I know it’s not possible to return as we were. I don’t do relationships, but I can’t pretend I don’t want you.”
“You’re asking for us to be an arrangement? Casual sex and that’s all?”
“Just two people who believe not everyone is cut out for the happily ever after bullshit. We’ll go out, have dinner, fuck, and have a good time.”
“Exclusive?”
His eyes turned dark, almost fierce. “Exclusive. I don’t want you dating anyone else.”
“I’d expect the same from you.”
“Done. Anything else you want?”
“A glowing letter of recommendation—I need a new job.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “No fucking way. You think I want you to work for some asshat who jacks off to your image every day?”
“Oh my God. Not everyone wants to make love to their employees.”
“When the employee looks like you, they crave to make love, fuck, and taste you, babe.” He cupped my ass and squeezed hard. “You’ll keep working for George—at least there I trust you’re in good hands. Deal?”
I placed my head against his chest and nuzzled against him as his finger toyed with the strands of my hair cascading down my back.
“What do you miss most from home?” I asked.
“Talking to family. It’s not like we speak every day, but knowing I can’t fucks with my mind.” The pads of his fingers caressed a circle at the small of my back. “I already know it’s hard for you to not be with your mother. Tell me something personal that you’re missing.”
“That’s easy—chocolate cookies with extra cream filling. They have them at a little bakery at the corner of East and Greenhill Street.”
He let out a chuckle. “My Gammy makes delicious homemade cookie sandwiches with her buttercream icing. You would love them. Sometimes she’ll add chocolate chips or M&Ms to the filling.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“When we get home, I’ll ask her to make you a batch.”
“Does she live in Dallas?”
“About forty-five minutes away. It gives me an opportunity to fly, plus I skip the traffic and it only takes about fifteen minutes.”
“I think I would be fine if I never had to fly again.”
He chuckled. “We didn’t have the best luck, did we? I’ll get you in the air again and keep you safe, Brooke. This was a fluke. I know you’ve heard the statistics—flying is safer than driving.”
“I’ll take my chances with the car.”
“Depends on how bad you want those cookies, and trust me, you’ll want them. We’ll be flying to Gammy’s.”
“You don’t play fair.”
“I never have.” He paused before adding, “Plus, if Chad or Stone hear she’s making them, they’ll try to beat me there, so we have to arrive first.”
I chuckled. “You’re lucky to have family. My mom and Aunt Jilly is it for me, no siblings or cousins.”
“It gets crazy. You’ll love them, but they meddle, and Gammy is the matriarch of the bunch. She doesn’t take shit and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. No one is stupid enough to stand up to her.”
“So that’s where you get your strong personality.”
“She passed it to my dad, who passed it to me, Stone, and Chad.”
A faint roaring sound drawing closer caught both of our attention and we scrambled out of the tent. Bolting to the shore, my heart galloped in my chest as we searched the sky. Shielding my eyes with my hand resting against my forehead, the promise of hope came into view.
“Oh my God, it’s a plane! Do you see it?” I squealed. “Hurry! Fire the flare! Should I light the stack of wood?”
Unmoving, Garrett slumped against the nose of the plane and stared across the horizon.
“Garrett! What are you doing? It’s getting farther away! Shoot the fucking flare!”
Nothing.
No comment.
No action.
Not one ounce of excitement from him.
I ran to him and pushed at his chest with both hands. “You just let our chance at being rescued pass by! Why would you do that?”
He whipped his head toward me. “It was a commercial airline, at least thirty-thousand feet in the air—no one was going to see the flare from that high. It would have been a waste.”
“I should have lit the bonfire! We should have done something! They were right there—right fucking there!” I reeled at the thought of salvation being so close to us but passing us by. “We should have tried something!”
“Listen to me, they wouldn’t have seen us. We have one flare—one!” He held up one finger, his words peppered with frustration. “We get one chance, and we have limited fuel to light a fire. When the chance is real, I’ll get us the hell out of here. Until then, I won’t use our resources foolishly, Brooke.”
The plane disappeared, the sound fading with it, and I felt hope whoosh out of my body. I sank down at the edge of the water, circled my arms around my knees, and rested my chin on top. The waves lapped over my toes in the silence.
A few minutes passed before he moved toward me, lowering himself down into the sand behind me. Stretching his legs on either side of me, he pressed his chest against my back. His fingers slowly pushed my hair over my right shoulder as he pressed his lips to the left side of my neck.
“We will get rescued. I don’t know when, but it’ll happen. My family won’t stop sending rescue teams until they find us. Stone and Jennings have access to my accounts in the event of an emergency. Jennings won’t stop looking…” Garrett stopped, his arms tightening around me.
“Jennings?” I tilted my head, wanting him to finish his thought.
“He’ll be there with my family every step of the way. The crazy bastard would do anything for me.” He sighed.
“How long have you been friends?”
“He and Dad were friends in college. I’ve known him my entire life.”
I swallowed hard. He held me because he knew I needed comforting. He gave without receiving. This had to be as hard on him as it was on me, yet it was him who kept trying to make it easier for me.
“I’m sorry I acted like an insane person. I just lost my shit when I saw the plane and realized it wasn’t in the cards for this nightmare to be over with yet.”
“Not all of it’s been a nightmare.” He kissed the top of my shoulder, licking and nibbling his way to the base of my neck. “Until we’re found, I’ll make this as memorable as possible.”
“You’re a good man, Garrett Mitchell. I’m pretty sure last night is imprinted on my brain for life.”
“If you knew my thoughts, you wouldn’t call me a good man. Last night was vanilla, Brooke, and I don’t always fuck vanilla.”
Chapter 12
Three days later, we hadn’t seen a single sign of a rescue team, but Garrett insisted they would come. To pass time, he and I swam in the ocean, walked along the beach, and employed basic survival skills. He taught me to spearfish and how to cook what we caught. I shuddered thinking about the seriousness in his voice when he’d said, “Anything could happen. I might not always be around.”
Since the battery on our phones and laptops were officially dead, I had to guess at the time and supposed it to be somewhere around noon.
All morning Garrett had kept himself busy working with tree limbs. He’d tediously removed all the tiny branches and twisted twine in and out, like making a basket. While I hung our freshly washed clothes on a strand of twine between two palm trees, I watched him finish a cylindrical contraption.
“What are you making?” I asked, slinging a pair of his shorts over the line.
“A crab trap. My brothers and I used to make them with wire when we spent time at Gammy’s summer beach house in Port Bolivar.”
“Will that thing catch them?” Excitement filled me. We’d been eating fish for the last few days, and crab sounded delicious.
“It should.” He gave the thing one last inspection. “Every summer we would bet on who would catch the most, and I always won.”
“I’m guessing you took their money without hesitation.”
Humor danced in Garrett’s eyes as his lips curled into a playful grin. “The reward was always women. The winner had first pick at a little club called The Crazy Pelican. Every summer the place was crawling with pretty little tourists throwing themselves at us like a fucking buffet. For a teenage boy, it was like hitting the lottery.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m guessing Stone and Chad ended up having their fair share of the buffet too.”
“Stone had blue balls all the time—he was pussy-whipped by Avery.”
“I’m impressed your brother chose not to cheat.”
“Even with all the boobs spilling over the skimpiest bikinis.” Garrett winked. “That’s why Chad and I didn’t settle down. Neither of us wanted to give up the pussy buffet. Once committed, it’s over, because Mitchell boys don’t cheat.”
Deep down, I felt the stab of a knife.
We were temporary.
I was nothing more than a dish he kept coming back for seconds of. When he was tired of me, he’d move on to the next one waiting in line.
Putting on a poker face, I said, “Better go set your trap and see if you still have the touch.”
“Don’t worry babe—I know I still have the touch.”
“We’ll see.” I hung my pink tank top next to his shorts.
“Bet me.” The tone in his voice changed to a deep sexy tone.
“What do you want to bet, Mr. Manwhore?”
“If I catch enough crab for dinner, you do anything I want.”
“And if you don’t, you do anything I want,” I challenged playfully, but his expression was full of a primal sinfulness.
“Be sure before you accept, Brooke. Remember what I told you the other day—there won’t be anything vanilla about it.”
My stomach flipped, tingles infused my entire body, and I completely forgot about being another item in an endless buffet.
He was so sexy…enticing…and completely consuming.
I shivered, knowing I’d never get enough of him. A shift in the breeze whipped his already tousled hair, and his sculpted body made me swallow hard.
“Better hurry, time is ticking. With every passing second, we’re closer to time for dinner—you’re losing valuable time,” I chided in a sultry voice.
“Trust me, you’re going to come so many times and in so many different ways you won’t be able to keep count. You’re going to do things you never thought you would, and you’ll be begging for more.”
My heart beat a mile a minute and my chest rose and fell shamelessly. A heated blush rushed across my face, and there wasn’t any denying the fire at the juncture between my thighs. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to squirm right in front of him, to feel the least bit of friction to soothe the building pressure between my legs.
Wicked thoughts filled my mind, and I silently hoped he produced a trap filled to the brim with crab. My lady bits prayed he’d win. I didn’t know what he was into, and I’d never had anything but vanilla, but I wanted his particular flavor. If he didn’t catch a single one, I wouldn’t be able to keep from begging him to have his wicked way with me.