Reckless (Fractured Farrells: A Damaged Billionaire Series Book 2) (14 page)

He’d figured she’d at least acknowledge his presence at some point, but she’d only come out of the room to grab food from the kitchen and then she’d go right back to the bedroom. She had taken the books and magazines he’d left for her, but she hadn’t said a single word.

That worried him more than any amount of screaming and anger she could throw his way. He’d expected that. He expected her to throw things or even try to kill him. That was who Malia was. She was passionate and strong. Not this withdrawn ghost of a person.

But after days of going back and forth with a police department with no leads, a security team with a whole server filled with security footage and no images they could use, and mounting evidence that whoever was after him was closing in more and more, he couldn’t think of leaving her on the island alone. He needed to get her away from Hawaii as soon as possible, but any time he brought up the very notion, she’d shut him down.

So let her hate him. At least she’d be alive and angry. That would have to be enough for now.

Footsteps sounded behind him and Robert took another swig of his Scotch. “Are we still on track, Mike?”

“So Mike is the evil captain?”

Robert twisted around to see Malia at the entrance to the stairs. She looked surprisingly good considering she’d been living as a shut-in for the better part of a week. She wore a white pair of shorts. This must be a new pair, because all of her original clothes seemed to be well worn and frayed at the edges or cut off from pants. On top, she wore a navy-blue tank top and her oversized denim shirt still spattered with the red paint.

Robert remembered that she’d asked a question. “Mike is the captain, yes.”

Malia ran a hand through her hair and squinted to look out over the water as the bright sun reflected off the waves. “I really wish this boat had cable. You need to write that into your next kidnapping plan.”

“Noted.”

She walked to the edge of the bow and he followed her every movement, a mixture of surprise that she was even there and caution that she was about to make a jump for it. But she never seemed suicidal...

“Aren’t you bored?” She leaned against the railing, looking at the water passing below them.

“There’s always something to do.” He pushed himself up and cautiously approached her.

“My mind doesn’t work like that. I need to be
out
. Running around. Getting stuff done. Being able to keep yourself entertained while bored is a rich person’s problem.”

He nodded as the barb landed. This was the Malia he’d been waiting for. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“What’s the other way?”

He winced. He wasn’t the kind of man to be at a loss for words often, but this was a tough situation. He didn’t want to defend himself, because he knew how much he’d hurt her. But at the same time, he didn’t think he was wrong and was damned if he was going to apologize for keeping her out of danger.

And considering the best way he could think to pass the rest of their time at sea was in bed with her, he decided that wasn’t the best subject to bring up either.

“I could tell you the shittier parts of my childhood, but I don’t want to come off as defensive.”

“Because you know nothing you say will make this okay?”

Honesty was probably the best policy. “Because I know I’m right.”

She twisted around. “You son of a bitch. Good intentions don’t make up for being a horrible asshole.”

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Respectfully! There’s nothing respectful about this!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “You’re sorry I
feel
that way? You just pulled out the ultimate in dick phrasing and you expect me to not be pissed?”

Damn, that was ultimate dick phrasing, wasn’t it?
“I figured you’d stay mad at me no matter what.”

“I swear, the only thing worse than being kidnapped is the fact that I’m stuck out here with you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I have Scotch.”

She raised a brow. “Now you want me to get drunk with you? The man I trust least of all in this world and you want me to get drunk. You’re a lot of things, Robert Farrell, but I never thought you were a moron.”

“I promise I’ll be honorable. I won’t touch you.”

“Well, since I have your word...”

“Well, me fucking you won’t save your life, so this is a promise I can keep.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I think getting drunk might be the only way for me to survive this trip with my sanity intact.”

He took that as a good sign and held up a finger. “Stay there.” He ran down to the kitchen and pulled out two shot glasses and one of the bottles of Scotch. He’d known that alcohol would be needed for this trip, and the boat was stocked with a massive selection.

When he got back up to the deck, Malia was sitting on the cushions with her feet tucked under her.

“So what are we drinking to?” He poured them each a shot.

“We’re going to start out with drinking to you being an asshole.”

Robert raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.” They both downed the shot in one quick drink. Robert drank enough hard liquor that the burning was practically welcome, but judging from the squinched-up face Malia made, she didn’t drink a lot. She slammed the empty glass on the table. “One more.”

Robert obliged as he studied her. “What’s this one to?”

“This one is...for your father. The original asshole.”

Robert stopped with his shot glass midair. “I’m not drinking to him.”

“Aww... Don’t want to respect dear daddy?”

“He doesn’t deserve this attention.”

She shrugged. “Fine. I don’t need you.” She slammed back the second shot and winced again. She reached behind her to steady herself. Apparently the Scotch was hitting her hard and fast. “Why don’t you declare the next toast.” She pounded her glass back on the table.

He refilled her glass as he thought about what they could drink to. “Let’s drink to forgiveness.”

She let out a snort. “Yeah, that’s not happening. Try again, rich boy.”

“Okay then. Let’s drink to keeping you alive.”

“You suck at making toasts.” She tipped her head back to down the third shot. “One more.” She set the glass back down.

“Maybe we should move on to something less...harsh.”

“Maybe you should pour me another damn drink, rich boy.”

“If you call me rich boy one more time, you really are getting cut off.” He poured out her fourth shot. “Is it my turn to call it?”

“No.” Malia drank the drink without even waiting for a toast. She winced and took a deep breath. “You’ve proved that you can’t handle the responsibility. This shot is going to be for...” She bit her bottom lip as she thought hard. “This one is for revenge.” She reached for the bottle and refilled her glass, spilling drops of the Scotch on the table.

The corner of his mouth hooked up. “I can drink to that.”

After she drank, she hung her head low and was quiet for a few moments.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m thinking,” she snapped as she looked back at him.

“Thinking about the next toast?”

“Thinking about how to get revenge on the guy who has it all.”

He cocked his head as he considered that. “I don’t have it all.”

She ignored him and continued on. “I could take everything from you. But I don’t actually know how to do that.”

“Others have tried and failed.”

“So what are things that you want and can’t get?”

“You,” he supplied. Not that he wanted to help someone bent on revenge, but the answer seemed pretty obvious to him.

“Me! You want me and I’m not going to let you have me.” She paused as she pursed her lips together. “Unless you consider that you’ve kidnapped me and therefore you have me, but I’m not willing to go down that train of thought. Wait.” Malia stood and pulled off her denim shirt and tugged at her blue tank top.

“Whoa.” Robert held up his hands. “As much as I love to see you naked, what the hell are you doing?”

Malia stopped with the tank top halfway up her toned stomach. “Well, you said you wouldn’t touch me while I was drunk. So you want me and can’t have me. I might as well take advantage.” Then she pulled the tank top off so all she wore above the waist was a simple white bra.

On any other woman, it would look plain, but against her tan skin, it stood out in the bright sunlight. “So your method of torturing me is by getting naked?” This was a torture he could get behind. Literally.

Malia smiled as she reached for the button of her shorts. “Hold on.” She stumbled as she pushed the shorts down, a sign that the Scotch was getting to her, but then she was wearing only her panties and bra. “The torture starts now.” She leaned forward and set her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back against the seat.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Instead of answering, she climbed on top of him, setting a knee on either side of his hips. His hands went to her waist, but she batted his hands away. “You said you wouldn’t touch me,” she reminded him.

“I think this counts as extenuating circumstances.”

“I think that would be you lying to me. Again. Now sit down and shut up.”

He managed to pull his hands away from her as she settled fully on top of him. His cock strained against his shorts, knowing that there were only a few pieces of fabric keeping him from exactly where he wanted to go.

Malia set her hands back on his shoulders as she settled fully on top of him. “There we go,” she breathed.

“So how exactly is this a punishment?”

“The punishment is that you can’t do anything. I figured you out, Robert.”

The way she was sitting, her breasts were right in front of his face and that bra he’d found so sexy was now the only obstacle between him and her breasts. “What did you figure out?”

“You’re a control freak.”

“That’s hardly news.”

“But now you have to listen to me. Because you don’t want to break your promise, you’ve given me control.”

And he now regretted that decision every second. “You have me where you want me. Now what are you going to do?”

She smiled down at him. “Well, now I do whatever I want.” She accentuated the words by moving against him with a twist of her hips.

Robert groaned as she brushed against his cock, and his hands balled into fists. It took everything to keep himself from throwing her beneath him on these seats and ripping off what little clothing she wore.

Except this wasn’t a limited torture. She kept moving, pressing herself harder against him. Her breath came faster as she readjusted herself until she straddled his thigh.

“Malia, I—”

“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips and kept moving. Her eyes drifted shut and with every movement, her breasts shook in the bra. Robert squeezed his hands tighter, trying to focus on the pain. Every fiber of him wanted to take over. To rip off the rest of their clothes and fuck Malia just as hard as he’d been daydreaming about since they got on this boat. Hell, since he’d first seen her on the beach.

And every little breath and moan that escaped her just made him want her more. The second she started to come was probably the hardest. Damn it, he wanted to feel her shudder. Wanted to hold her as she came apart.

Once her orgasm was over, Malia went limp and her head fell onto his shoulder. Robert finally broke her rules and ran a hand down her back, but she didn’t push him away or jump off his lap. Instead, her breathing just got deeper.

“Malia?” he whispered.
Nope. She was out cold.
“Fuck.” For a few minutes, he kept her in his arms, just enjoying the feel of her. He ran his palms along her back and her thighs. His cock was still hard and demanding, but he just held her. Knowing how she felt, this would be the closest he’d ever get to her again.

––––––––

M
alia groaned as she rolled over. It was one of those times when she knew she was awake and wasn’t going back to bed, but she didn’t want to admit defeat yet. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed, her wide-awake body would magically fall asleep again.

She reached over to grab another pillow, except her hand hit a warm, hard object. Her eyes snapped open and she jumped off the bed when she saw Robert in bed next to her.

“Morning, sunshine.” He set an arm behind his head and stretched out. Except he only wore his boxers, so when he stretched, all the exposed muscles in his stomach, chest, and arms rippled.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“You fell asleep on top of me, so I had to assume the bed wasn’t off-limits.”

Malia thought back to what happened the night before. She’d finally gotten sick of being stuck in the stateroom and emerged up to the deck. In a not-so-shocking turn of events, Robert hadn’t been apologetic at all. Then there had been shots and she’d...

Malia ran a hand over her face.
Yep. This was why she didn’t drink often.
“I fell asleep on you out there.” She pointed at the stairs.

“And after I carried you down here, I was reminded that this is the nicest bed on the boat by far. But I didn’t get under the covers with you.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Malia shook her head as she turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from Robert.