The Man Must Marry(24)

Mutiny was beginning to look like a viable option.

But another mind-blowing kiss might be equally effective. It would   definitely go farther toward gaining Willa's affections than setting her   adrift in a lifeboat.

Chapter Eleven

Yesterday's kiss must havebeen even more mind-blowing than he realized,   because he was having one hell of a dream. Sam actually stopped   breathing, afraid the naked woman crammed into the small bunk beside   him, running her fingers through his chest hair, would disappear if he   woke up. Either this was really wishful thinking, or it had been way too   long since he'd been laid. When she started licking his nipple, Sam  sat  up with a shout of surprise, only to slam into the bulkhead and  fall  back onto his pillow with a groaned curse.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you," his naked dream woman said in an   amused whisper. She brushed her fingers lightly over his temple. "Want   me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Willamina?" Sam choked out. "What are you doing?"

"Accepting the offer you made. I don't like wearing a bra if I don't   have to, so I decided to take off all my clothes and crawl into bed with   you."

Had he died jumping out of the helicopter, and this was heaven? Or had   he landed in hell? She definitely was naked, and he burned to accept her   offer, but he worried that making love to Willa right now might   actually hurt their chance of having a future together.





"You've changed your mind," she said, her voice suddenly distant. She started backing out of the bunk.

"Sorry. Go back to sleep. It's half an hour or so to sunrise."

"No, wait!" Sam said, sitting up and reaching for her. He managed to   catch her wrist and pull her back on top of him. "I haven't changed my   mind." He wrapped his arms around her when she continued to try   wriggling away. "I'm just surprised, is all. I thought you didn't like   me very much."

"I don't."

He smiled at that. "Then what's going on here, Willa?"

"To put it bluntly, I'm using you. Sometime around three this morning, I   finally made a deal with my hormones. I promised to give them free  rein  for the next four days, if they'll go back into hibernation the  moment  we drop anchor in Keelstone Cove." She shifted on top of him,  sliding  her naked breasts across his chest-snapping his hormones to  attention.  "I thought we could use each other for the rest of the  voyage. I would  put an end to my sexual drought, and you would finally  rid yourself of  this foolish notion of marrying me."

"I see."

"And then we'll both be free to spend the next three months figuring out how to break Abram's will."

"Let me get this straight. You've decided that a four-day sex marathon   will give us our fill of each other, and when we reachMaine , we'll go   back to … business as usual?"                       
       
           



       

"Right. You have a shipping empire to run, and I have caskets to make. But in the meantime," she said,

trailing her fingers in maddening circles over his chest, "we might as well have a bit of fun."

Nowwhat in hell was she up to? "I packed clothes and food in my dry sack, but I don't believe I packed any condoms."

Her fingers started dancing across his chest again. "No problem. I've got that covered."

"You travel with a box of condoms?"

"No. I've simply taken care of it on my end." She gave his chest hair a   gentle tug. "Yes or no, Sinclair. My offer expires in exactly sixty   seconds."

A warning growl was the only answer he gave, rolling them over until she   was lying beneath him. He captured her maddening fingers and pinned  her  hands above her head, then brought his mouth down on hers when she   started to protest.

He was done trying to figure her out. The lady wanted some fun for the   next four days, did she? Either he was the luckiest bastard ever born,   or Willamina Kent was even more naive than she was cute. Whether she   knew it or not, she had just jumped out of the frying pan and into the   fire-and sealed her fate.

Sam used his knees to spread hers, nestling himself between her thighs,   and dove his tongue into her mouth when she gasped at the realization   that he was also naked. And ready. And willing. And definitely able.

It was all he could do not to slide inside her right then. She tasted   sweet, of jam and peanut butter. Willa had obviously eaten a sandwich   before she'd crawled into bed with him, apparently in preparation for   the upcoming marathon.

Was there anything sexier than a woman who went after what she wanted?

Sam broke the kiss and rose onto one elbow, which was as far as their   cramped quarters would allow. He moved his free hand over her body while   gently rocking his hips into hers. She made soft mewling sounds,   wiggling beneath him, and he wished there were more light so he could   see her face. Giving her a taste of her own sweet torture, he traced a   finger up her torso, first over one breast and then the other-paying   particular attention to her nipples-and then up over her chin to her   lips. She wriggled frantically, her breathing growing labored as she   tried to position herself so he was poised to enter her.

"Patience," he whispered.

"Oh, God," she groaned, trying to tug free as she arched into him. "You're one of those guys."

His hand stopped. "One of what guys?"

"Methodical. Slow. All touchy-feely."

Sam forced himself to relax. He had to remember that this was Willamina;   anything could come blurting out of that mouth of hers. "Is there some   sort ofMaine trick I haven't heard about, where people can

make love without touching?"

Her chest rose on an exasperated sigh, causing her nipples to brush his   forearm. "It's been five years . Get on with it already, Sin-"

He kissed her to shut her up.

She tried to push his tongue out, apparently not happy with his kissing, either.

"Now what?" he asked, wondering if this was ever going to happen.

"I want you to stop kissing me every time you don't like what-ooohhh."   She moaned as he eased inside her. "Oh, God, yes! Ohmygod, that feels so   good."

Finally, something she liked.

He rather liked it, too.

He released her hands to prop himself up on both his arms, which in   turned freed her to touch him . Apparently, the no-touching rule only   applied to him. She dug her fingers into his chest, arching her spine   and throwing back her head on another moan of pleasure.

She was warm and tight, and she screamed so loudly when Sam started moving inside her that he went utterly still.

"Don't stop!" she cried, lifting her hips and straining against him. "Move!"

He moved.

She screamed again.

He stopped again. It was taking a toll on him; beads of sweat broke out   on his forehead. She actually punched him in the shoulder. "Don't  stop!"

"I'm hurting you!"

"No, you're driving me crazy! Move , Sinclair."

Okay, she was a screamer. He kind of liked that, as it gave him immediate feedback on how he was doing.

Apparently, he was doing quite well, because the moment he started   moving again, Willa started in again, her unabashed cries of bliss   bouncing around the cramped bunk. Sam started to grin, but his own bliss   finally caught up with him, and he turned his attention to   concentrating on how wonderful she felt beneath him. They fit together   perfectly, her beautifully curvy body cradling his, her uninhibited   passion making his heart race. He could feel her coiling around him,   straining into each thrust, lost in the grip of her building release. It   arrived on a tidal wave of convulsing heat, her inner muscles tugging   Sam to the edge of restraint. He                       
       
           



       

thrust into her hard and fast and deep, gritting his teeth to hold off   his own release for as long as possible. Willa carried on for what   seemed like forever, and when Sam finally lost his control, he pulled   out and came on her belly. He collapsed beside her with a groan of   satisfaction, cupped her buttocks, and pulled her body snugly against   him.

She stiffened, bringing her hands up to his chest, to push him away. Sam   gave a long-suffering sigh. Honest to God, the woman's moods changed   direction more often than the wind.

"What?" he asked, refusing to let her wriggle away. "Is it also against   the rules to cuddle? I thought women liked to enjoy the afterglow.   You'll have to give me a play book so I know what's expected of me."