One Night with Sole Regret 06 Tell Me (13 page)

Melanie shook her
head. “They’re having a great time.”

“Yeah, but are you?”

“Of course I am. I always have a great time when I’m with you.”

Fishing pole in hand, Gabe
handed her a surprisingly light Styrofoam container that he’d bought at the marina when she’d procured her fishing license.

She gave it a little shake
and found it wasn’t empty. “What’s in here? Coleslaw?”

“I don’t think you want to eat that,” he said. He pinched his hook between two fingers and held out his other hand in Melanie’s direction. “Hand me one,” he said.

“One what?”

“Bait.”

She shook her head in incomprehension.

“It’s in the cup.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t been playing coy when she said she’d never been fishing; she was totally clueless. She pried the lid of the cup and peered into it. Something small and white squirmed in a bed of what appeared to be sawdust. On closer inspection, she saw what appeared to be hundreds of plump maggots writhing about in the cup. She screamed and tossed the cup in the air, scrambling away from the spill.

Gabe stared at her. “What are you so freaked out about?”

“Your bait is infested with maggots.”

He chuckled. “My bait
is
maggots.”

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, her stomach heaving. Sh
e should have said no to the sausage gravy.

“You are such a girl,” Gabe said.

“I thought we’d already established that,” she mumbled against her hand.

He stooped
down to scoop the escaped maggots back into the cup with his bare hand.

“Oh my God,” she said, swallowing hard to keep her breakfast where it belonged. “You are never touching me with that hand again.”

“Oh, please,” he said, piercing the body of a wriggling maggot with his hook. “You aren’t afraid of a baby fly are you?”

“Afraid
of? No.” She turned her head, unable to watch him add a second creature to his hook. “Disgusted by? Very much so.”

“I
guess I should have gone with the fish heads,” he said. “You have to jab the hook right through the eyes, otherwise you hit bone.”

Melanie
shuddered at the image his words conjured. “Are you trying to make me throw up?”

“Of course not. What kind of asshole would d
escribe poking a hook into a slimy worm’s ass and threading the metal all the way through the center of the squirmy thing’s body?”

“
You
, obviously, would never be that kind of asshole,” she said.

He chuckled and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist.
“Ah well, it wouldn’t bother you if you weren’t such a
girl
.”

She glared at him, but couldn’t stay perturbed at someone so obviously trying to
get a rise out of her.

He cast his line into the water with
practiced ease, turned a little crank until something clicked inside the reel, and then placed the handle of the pole into a holder on the edge of the boat.

“Your turn,” he said,
holding a rod in her direction.

“My turn to what?”

“Bait your hook.”

She licked her lips nervously and took a step closer to the container of squirmy things. As soon as they were in view, she averted her gaze and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Will you do it for me?” she asked. “Please.”

“And I thought you
once wanted to be an entomologist. Do baby butterflies freak you out too?

“No
, but caterpillars are vegetarians. They don’t devour rotting flesh.”

“But these are clean maggots,” he tried reasoning with her.

There was no way in hell that she was touching a maggot, much less impaling it on a sharp spike of metal.

“I’ll just watch you fish,” she said.

Gabe sighed and taking pity on her, he baited her hook. He then showed her how to cast and reel in her line. She found she was really bad at casting—her bobbing thingy never landed more than a few feet from the side of the boat—and she didn’t have the patience to just let the line sit without reeling. So she cast and reeled and cast and reeled and cast and reeled, lost her bait, and waited for Gabe to resupply it before casting and reeling some more.

Gabe
eventually took her pole, cast her line dozens of yards across the lake, and then stuck the handle in a holder rather than giving the pole back to her.

“Now for the most important part of fishing,” he said, sitting on a front-facing bench seat and extending his arm across its back. He patted the empty space beside him and she sat.

“What’s the most important part?”

“Sitting quietly and letting your mind wander.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her upper arm a squeeze. The scenery was breathtaking, but she only lasted about three minutes before she felt compelled to break the silence.

“Have you been fishing a lot?” she asked.

“Mmm hmm, now quiet. You’ll scare the fish away.”

“They can’t possibly hear me all the way underwater,” she whispered.

“You’d be surprised.”

D
etermined to be quiet, she stared at her orange and yellow bobber, watching it jerk underwater, rise to the surface, and disappear underwater again.

“Why is it doing that?”
She whispered so she wouldn’t scare the fish.

“P
robably because you have a bite,” Gabe said calmly.

She leap
ed for her pole, jerking it out of the holder and reeling as fast as she could. The tip of the pole bent in arc and the faster she reeled, the harder the fish pulled in the opposite direction. Her heart pounded with excitement, which didn’t make a lick of sense to her—she had a fish at the end of a string, not a shark launching itself into their boat.

When the small greenish fish rose from the surface of the water, she
turned toward Gabe.

“Nice bass,” he said
and nodded toward her butt.

“What do I do with it?”
Melanie cringed and held one hand in front of her face to prevent the flailing fish from flicking slimy water in her eyes as it struggled for freedom.

A scraping of claws came from the
rear of the boat. Before Melanie could comprehend that Lady was after her fish, a pair of paws landed on her chest, sending her staggering backward. The backs of her calves hit something solid. Unbalanced, she toppled over the side of the boat and landed in the lake with a stupendous splash.

Heart in his throat, Gabe rushed to the bow and was poised to leap into the water to rescue Melanie when she surfaced. She treaded water with one hand and pushed her mass of curls from her face with her other.

“Can you swim?” he yelled, still prepared to jump in after her.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She focused her attention on Lady
, who was at Gabe’s side barking excitedly and wagging her tail as if trying to kick up a wind storm. “Bad dog,” she said and then she laughed.

“Very bad dog,” Gabe agreed. “Go
lie down.”

He pointed to the back of the boat where Beau was still sleeping.

Lady refused to be chastised. She bounced around on the front seat and then leaped over the side to join Melanie’s fun.

“I lost your pole,” Melanie said as she paddled around to the back of the boat where there was a ledge and a ladder.

“I don’t care about the goddamned pole. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“Don’t worry
, I’m a good swimmer,” she called from the water. “My parents made sure of it.”

He remembered that her little brother had
drowned, so it made sense that her parents had made sure she could swim. He silently praised them for their overprotectiveness. He felt a bit of it himself. Even though she sucked at fishing, this woman was precious to him. If something happened to her… He shook off the thought, not wanting to even think about the possibility.

Lady swam beside Melanie, obviously thinking they were having some sort of race. Lady showed off her impressive
water-dog breeding by swimming laps around the human. Crazy dog. Gabe was going to have to keep her on a leash if she refused to behave.

After
Melanie reached the back of the boat and hefted herself onto the diving platform, Gabe grabbed her by her upper arms and hauled her on board. He probably should have teased her about being graceless and a poor fisherman, but all he could do was wrap her in both arms and hold her dripping body securely against his.

He rubbed his lips against her forehead, “You scared me,” he murmured. “Don’t ever fall off my boat again.”

“I think you need to take that up with your dog.”

He looked down at the beast in question
, now sitting in the seat next to Beau and making a huge puddle. Tongue flopping in and out of her wide mouth as she panted, Lady met his eyes, her head cocked to one side as if to say,
Well, that was fun, what next?
It was really hard to stay mad at the damned dog.

“Do you have a towel?” Melanie asked. She pulled away from him and twisted the hem of her tank
top, splattering his bare feet with cool water.

“Yeah.”

He released her, begrudgingly, and pulled a towel from a compartment under one of the bench seats.

“I lost one of my shoes,”
Melanie said, peering down at one bare foot.

He wrapped her in the huge beach towel and then hugged her against him again.
He heard his line take off as a fish took his bait, but he ignored it. His need to hold Melanie far outweighed his desire to catch fish. There was another splash, and Gabe sighed when he caught sight of a length of black fur swimming in the water again.

“I think you have a bite,” Melanie said.

“Mmm hmm.” He drew her closer.

“And
Lady is in the water again.”

“Yep.” He rubbed her back through the towel, wishing they were alone and naked, entwined in
each other’s arms.

“I’m okay, Gabe,” she said. “Honest.”

He kissed her deeply just to make sure.

A very wet dog interrupted thei
r kiss by dropping something cold and soggy on Gabe’s foot. Startled—because there was no telling what Lady had fished out of the water—he jerked away and looked down at Melanie’s lost shoe.

“You found my shoe!” Melanie
cried out, dropping to her knees to give Lady an appreciative scratch behind the ears. “Good girl.” Lady licked Melanie’s face before she could escape the dog’s wide tongue. Melanie only laughed and rubbed Lady’s head some more.

Lady was so pleased with herself that she picked up the shoe, carried it to the back of the boat
, and commenced chewing. In less than half a minute, Melanie’s cute canvas shoe was in shreds.

Gabe slapped himself in the forehead.
“Shit, Mel, I’m sorry. Bad dog!”

Melanie just laughed. “Finders keepers
, losers weepers. I’ll just have to gnaw on one of her chew toys when we get back to your house.”

He was glad his woman was so laid back and
, well,
nice
. Not to mention nice to look at. When she lifted the towel to dry her hair, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to the wet tank top clinging distractingly to her round breasts.

“You should probably get your fish,” she said, apparently oblivious to the turn his thoughts had taken. Or maybe she thought he needed a distraction to keep him from
tackling her to the deck and having his way with her.

While
she worked at getting herself partially dried, Gabe reeled in his line, glad that the fish had stolen his bait and escaped. He didn’t feel much like fishing anymore. He felt like getting lost in Melanie. Maybe it was time to head home.

Something damp smacked him
in the back of the head. He peeled Melanie’s wet tank top off his neck and spun to look at her. She was wrapped in the towel, but knowing that she was half naked beneath it did tent-like things to the front of his shorts.

She wriggled beneath the towel, squatted down
, and then sent her wet shorts sailing in his direction. He caught them in one hand.

“Would you mind spreading those out to dry?” she asked
.

He dropped her
wet clothes in a small heap on the deck and took two steps in her direction.

“Gabe,” she said
, one hand extended, “don’t look at me like that.”

Like what? Like he
wanted to devour her whole? Like he was about to shove her down on the deck and fuck her until she screamed his name? How was he looking at her exactly? She couldn’t expect him to behave when his emotions were on high and she was in nothing but her bra and panties beneath a towel. Especially when they were in this secluded cove that happened to be void of all humans except for the two of them.

“Take your panties off,” he said.

“I was just going to let those dry on my body,” she said.

“Take them off.” He knocked his cowboy hat off his head as he mindlessly shed his shirt
.

“Gabe, I’m not going to take my panties off.
”

He took another step closer and reached for her, pulling her against him. “Do you want me to rip them off you?”

He reached inside her towel and caught the top of her panties in one hand and gave them a sharp tug. She stared up at him as if in a trance.

“Do you?”
He lowered his hand so that his middle finger slid into her cleft.

Her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Where’s your daring, Mel?” he asked, fisting his hand in her panties and stopping just short of ripping the fabric. “You’ll come for me in the bathroom at work, but not here?”

Her fingertips
slid down his belly, bumping over muscles on their way to the elastic at the waist of his shorts.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” sh
e whispered.

She tugged the front of his
shorts down, scraping the entire length of his cock until it sprang free between them. She slid her hand between his legs to cup his heavy balls in her palm. He gasped as she massaged them gently. The fear of pain—should she get a little too rough with those overly sensitive parts—fueled his excitement.

He tried to lower her panties, but he was immobilized by
the feel of her hand fondling him, exciting him. Driving him mad with need.

“You didn’t think I’
d do this here, did you?” she said in that sultry voice she used when they were being naughty on the phone. “Touch you like this? Want you to touch me in the same way?”

“Thanks for being full of surprises,” he said breathlessly.

She grinned at him, tossed the towel over her head to hide her face, and began a slow descent, sucking kisses down the center of his chest, his belly, and lower. She dropped to her knees, her head and upper body still hidden beneath the towel, and grasped his throbbing cock in one hand. When her soft wet tongue began to dance over the head of his cock, he groaned in bliss.

He reached to pull the towel back
and tossed it aside, wanting to watch as she suckled and licked his head. And he did watch, watched as she worked him, watched as she stroked and sucked, making him shake and pulse with need. Seeing her kneeling at his feet, the brilliant sunshine kissing her lovely face and her lips stretched wide as she drew his cock deep inside her hot, wet mouth, was finally his undoing.

She
squeaked in surprise when he pulled free of her mouth, jerked her to her feet, and shoved her down into the seat that ran around the front hull. He yanked at her panties, his mouth descending on her mound before he even had the garment to her ankles.

“Gabe! Get the towel. Someone will see,” she said.

She tried to close her legs on his head, but he held them wide open with his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he said. “You
’ll be able to see anyone’s approach long before they see us.”

The muscles of her thighs relaxed
, and she grasped his scalp with both hands.

“
God, why does this make me so hot for you?” she whispered.

He tilted his head to look up at her from between her thighs. She wasn’t keeping an eye out at all. She was gazing down at him with glassy eyes. He wished he could watch her face while he ate her out, but a man had to have priorities. He teased her opening with sweeps of his tongue, suckled and nibbled and licked her clit
and her swollen lips, and then savored the sweet well between them.

When her body shuddered with release, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her ass off the seat, seeking entry. She reached between her thighs and guided his
rigid cock home. He sank into her, vaguely thinking that she couldn’t be very comfortable, hanging halfway off the seat like that, but she felt so good inside that he couldn’t fight the instinct to thrust. When her heels dug into his ass to urge him deeper, he didn’t give her position another thought. The entire world vanished except for her soft, slick, warm flesh. And her little moans of pleasure. And her gaze locked with his. She was all there was and as he claimed her, grinding his hips to work himself in as deeply as possible, she was all he wanted and everything he needed.

He
gasped as his climax neared, catching him by surprise. He shifted one hand to her mound so he could massage her clit with his thumb. He wanted her to join him in ecstasy.
We should always come together
, he thought as she cried out and her pussy squeezed his cock. And then his mind went blank as his body strained against hers and he flowed into her, not just physically—he could have done that with any woman—but spiritually and emotionally. He was all tangled up inside Melanie Anderson, in dozens of ways, and it was a puzzle he never wanted to solve.

After a moment, Melanie
struggled upright and Gabe shifted so that his softening cock slipped free of her body. He sat on the deck and pulled her down to his lap, where she sat facing him, her heat nestled against his damp cock. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

“God, that was sexy,” she murmured.

It had been—he couldn’t deny it—but had she felt any of the emotional or spiritual attachment that he felt? If she had, she didn’t say so, and so neither did he. But he held her close and marveled at the beauty of making love to Melanie. It was so different from how he’d experienced sex with other women. Even long-term girlfriends whom he’d once loved hadn’t been like this. No one compared to Melanie; he had to find a way to make her his. And not just for a weekend or a month or a year. He wanted her always. There was no way he’d ever be satisfied with anyone else after knowing this feeling of completeness. After having her.

“What’s that sound?” Melanie said and lifted her head. She cocked it to one side, listening.

Now that Gabe had been jerked out of his own headspace, he heard it too. It wasn’t just one sound, but a mix of rattling, munching, slobbery lapping, and swallowing.

“Lady,” he called
, “are you in the cooler eating our lunch?”

All the sounds stopped abruptly, replaced by the
thumping of a tail against the deck. Gabe twisted and glanced over his shoulder.

Yep, Lady had been in the cooler. There was nothing left of their lunch but
crumbs, wrappers, and empty containers. The dog looked proud of her accomplishment, the telltale sign of mayonnaise from the potato salad glistening white on her muzzle.