Some Sort of Happy (Skylar and Sebastian): A Happy Crazy Love Novel (16 page)

But he was still now. Too still, maybe.

I looked up at him. “Is this OK?”

Was this OK?

Your hands are inches away from my rising cock. Your nipples are hard—I can see them through your shirt. You’re looking up at me with such sweet concern, but I can see the way you want me, too, and fuck, I want you that way too. But something inside me won’t let me touch you.

I cleared my throat and took a step back. “It’s fine. Should we go?”

Her face fell, but she nodded.

After jumping onto the boat, I took Skylar’s hand and helped her on, but I noticed that she let go of me as soon as she had two feet on the bottom of the boat. She settled at the front, arms wrapped around her legs, sunglasses hiding her eyes.

After untying the rope, I pushed away from the dock and picked up the oars, angry with myself again. I knew she’d been hoping I’d be fucking normal for a few minutes and at least kiss her or something, but I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t want to—my God, I was lucky I didn’t come in my pants the second she put her hands on me. Every male instinct in my body was screaming at me to throw her down right there in the boat and ravage that hot little body until she begged for mercy.

Was I crazy not to?

She wanted it, didn’t she?

It had been so long…and I wanted her so fucking badly.

As I watched her tilt her head back, lifting her face to the sun and exposing the pale white skin of her neck, I waited for the voice to kick in.

But it didn’t. Amazed, I allowed my gaze to travel from her neck down her arms to her hands, which were crossed in front of her shins. She’d taken off her sneakers and her toenails were painted bright blue. Her legs were folded up in front of her chest, but I remembered how her nipples had been hard a few minutes ago and wondered if they still were. What color were they? Pale pink? Or deeper, like a rose? What would they feel like beneath my fingertips, between my lips, against my tongue?

Fuck, I was so hard, and wanted so badly to touch her. I could be gentle, couldn’t I?

It was worth a try. She was worth anything.

“Your toes match your eyes,” I said, hoping to make her smile.

Her lips tipped up, but she said nothing.

“Skylar, you’ve been silent for five whole minutes. That’s a record, I think.”

“Ha ha.”

I stopped rowing and let us drift. On a Wednesday afternoon, there weren’t too many boats out on the bay, and none were heading in our direction. I dropped the light anchor into the water and made sure we were tethered. Skylar still hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d opened her eyes and was looking at me.

“Everything OK?” I asked.

She lifted her shoulders. “I’m just embarrassed. I keep touching you, and it’s the wrong thing.”

“No. It’s not.”

“You get so jumpy.”

“I know, but it’s not because I don’t like it. I do. It scares me how much I do.”

She said nothing and tipped her head back again, then wiggled so she was lying on her back on the bottom of the boat.

Carefully I moved to her side and stretched out next to her, head propped in my hand. “Hey.” I tapped her nose.

She ignored me, which made me smile.

“Still thinking about taking a swim?”

“Maybe. If I get hot enough.” She folded her hands on her belly.

“That an invitation?”

She stuck out her tongue at me.

Smiling, I took her sunglasses off and studied her for another minute, appreciating the flawless symmetry of her face.

I fucking loved symmetry.

Her rosebud mouth pouted just a bit, and I set her glasses aside before tracing her lips with one fingertip. She was startled by my touch, her mouth opening slightly, her breaths warm and quick against my hand.

Pretty soon I couldn’t resist—I leaned over and pressed my lips to hers.

She let me kiss her, but didn’t really kiss me back, and her hands remained on her stomach. I lifted my head and looked down at her again.
Stubborn little butterfly. Give in to me.
I kissed each eyelid and the tip of her nose. Then I lowered my lips to her forehead and left them there. The voice returned.

You really think you should do this?

Yes. Shut the fuck up and go away. Or don’t. But I want to know what it’s like to kiss this woman, to touch her and feel her touch me. So you can either stick around and watch, or you can fuck right off.

Feeling proud of myself, I kissed her lips once more, and her eyes opened.

“Sebastian,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Ignoring the voice in my head telling me not to touch you.”

She reached up and took my face in her hands. “Good.”

My mouth closed over hers and she rolled to her side, putting her lower body flush to mine.

Easy, easy
, I told myself as her lips opened wider and I slipped my tongue between them. She tasted sweet, like mint and honey, and I lazily stroked her tongue with mine. My hands itched to explore her body, slide beneath her clothes, feel her bare skin, but I didn’t allow myself the pleasure yet. It had been so long, and my cock ached to get inside her, but I wanted to go slow, do this right.

She wasn’t making it easy, though—not with the way she kissed, playful and light one moment, greedily sucking my tongue into her mouth the next, not with the way she raked her nails through my hair and held my head in her hands, not with the way she pressed her curvy little body closer to mine, throwing one leg over my hip. My erection bulged against my shorts, and I put my hand on her ass to pull her closer, rub my cock against the sweet spot between her legs.

She moaned as I kissed her throat, swirling my tongue on her skin. “Mmmm. That feels so good,” she said softly, sliding a hand down my arm. “You surprised me.”

I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. In a good way.” She took my jaw in her hands, bringing my mouth up to hers. As the kiss deepened, she slipped a hand between us and rubbed my cock through my shorts…sweet, soft, slow strokes that made me dig my fingers into her back and pant against her lips. I rocked my hips, thrusting against her palm, and slid my hand underneath her shirt.

Are you fucking crazy? You can’t touch her like that. You won’t be able to stop. You’re already so hard it hurts. Another minute and you’ll be totally out of control and she’ll be helpless against you. And you’re all alone out here on the water. No one would hear her scream.

“Skylar,” I said, leaning my forehead against hers. “Maybe we should stop.”

“You want to stop right now?” She pressed harder against my erection. “I can think of something more fun.”

I groaned. “I know, but—just wait.” I sat up, breathing hard.

“Okayyyy,” she said, clearly confused.

I shoved my sunglasses on my face and moved to the opposite end of the boat from her to sit on the bench. But first I had to adjust myself.

She laughed. “I’d say I’m sorry, but you know I’m not.”

“I know. And I’m not either. It’s just…” I ran a hand over my hair and decided to be honest. I’d fucked up with Diana by trying to hide shit. “The voice is telling me I’ll hurt you.”

She looked surprised, her eyebrows rising. “It is? Right now? Tell it to fuck off.” She leaned forward conspiringly and whispered, “I like it a little rough, anyway.”

“For God’s sake, Skylar. Don’t say that stuff to me,” I snapped. “You don’t know me at all.”

“I’m trying, Sebastian! What the hell?” she cried, throwing a hand up. “Listen, if we’re going to be friends and I’m going to help you through whatever issue you have being close to me, then you should get used to the way I talk. I told you, I’m a very open person. I say what’s on my mind. Now what the fuck is on yours?”

“I told you. I’ll fucking hurt you.”

“How?”

The words stuck in my throat, but finally I blurted the fucked-up truth. “I’ll choke you.”

Her jaw dropped, and her fingertips touched her throat. “Choke me?”

I nodded angrily. “Yes. I know it’s irrational and stupid, and I know you can’t understand, but it’s real to me.”

Rather than reassure me I was being ridiculous, she crawled over and knelt between my feet. “Sebastian,” she said firmly. “Put your hands on me.”

“What?”

“Around my neck. Do it.”

“No!” I gripped the edge of the bench, and she grabbed at my wrists.

“Come on, grab me by the throat,” she said, her voice growing louder as she grappled with me. “Choke me if you’re going to!”

“Will you fucking stop it?” I yelled at her, putting my hands in the air. “Get away from me!”

“No!” She stood and kept grabbing at me, the boat rocking perilously, and finally I did as she asked and wrapped my hands around her neck or else she was going to tip us over. She dropped to her knees again at my feet, her fingers tight around my wrists, holding them to her.

I felt sick inside. “Is this what you want? For me to hurt you?”

“You won’t hurt me.” In contrast to my panicked yelling, she spoke quietly, if a little breathlessly, and in her eyes I saw no fear. “You won’t hurt me.”

We paused there a moment, both of us breathing hard. My heart pounded, my body coursed with adrenaline, and my hands shook. Desperately I battled the urge to count as I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my overwrought nervous system. But as the seconds ticked by and I did nothing violent, I realized she was right—I wasn’t going to harm her. My body relaxed, my breathing slowed.

“There,” she said softly. “See?” She pulled my hands off her neck, and immediately I curled my fingers over the edge of the bench again. She scooted even closer to me, resting her arms on my thighs. “Now tell me what else to do so we can go back to what we were doing.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” I said sourly. “It’s just the way I am.” I looked out across the water, unable to handle the hurt expression on her face.
You fucking coward.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, it’s true.” I fucking hated myself, so I took it out on her, of course. “You think this is the first time this has happened to me? I know how this goes, Skylar.” I forced myself to look at her. I wanted the asshole in my head to see exactly what he was giving up. “We have sex because we like each other and we’re attracted to each to each other and we think that’s enough but then who we are isn’t really what the other person thinks we are, so nothing works out and six months later we end up disappointing each other and blaming ourselves for what we should have admitted in the first place—this shouldn’t happen.”

She sat back, her butt on the boat’s bottom. “Holy shit, Sebastian.”

“What?”

“You’re killing me. I can’t even think where I’m going to live next week and you’re able to imagine exactly what would happen in six months if I give you a hand job in this boat.”

She was going to give me a hand job. Fuck.

“Is that what happened with your ex?”

I exhaled. “Sort of.” The wind picked up, and I listened to the waves lap against the side of the boat for a moment. The sound calmed me. “I’m sorry. I panic easily.”