injury wasn’t bothering him. The problem was that every time he shifted gears, the back of his right arm brushed Carly’s left breast, and he had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t wearing a bra.
She was squashed between him and Stephen, straddling the gearshift console because the pickup truck had a narrow bench seat. When he put the truck in reverse, to back out of her driveway, he practically had to place the stick right up against her crotch.
He glanced across the cab at Stephen, who only smirked and pulled his hat down over his eyes, slouching in his seat like Arlen had.
Thankfully, it was a short trip from Carly’s house to the harbor. James parked in the free lot, like always, although it was a half mile from there to the dock. They walked the distance in silence, the sound of their footsteps absorbed by the wooden planks on the causeway.
After they boarded
They went to Crystal Cove, his mother’s favorite place, to spread the ashes. For a split second, he was struck by a memory of the nightmare he’d had a week ago, and he imagined that he saw a dark, ominous shape swimming underwater. When he blinked, it was gone, and there was just Carly, holding his hand.
“You do it,” he said, transferring the urn to Stephen. “You’ve got more experience with ashes.”
Stephen smiled around his cigarette, although the joke wasn’t worth it.
Before he took off the lid, Carly placed a kiss on the top of the urn, and a few of her tears splashed there, too. James and Stephen followed her lead, kissing the urn as if it were their mother’s golden cheek. When it was time, Stephen overturned its contents, and they watched the ocean absorb what was left of Gabrielle Matthews.
Stephen put his arm around James’ shoulders, and Carly pressed her face into the front of his shirt. James just held her, stroking his hand down her back, watching the sun dip toward the horizon and feeling the comforting lean of his brother beside him.
“Why don’t you let me out at the wharf?” Stephen suggested. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Stephen’s intention was probably to give James some time alone with Carly, but he may also have been thinking about getting high. It hadn’t escaped James’ attention that Stephen had been clean lately, and struggling to stay that way. If he was looking to score a bag of dope, it would be an easy enough task at America’s Cup Harbor.
Hoping to find his brother sober, and safe, when they returned, James dropped him off at the closest dock and said good-bye.
“Let’s not go back just yet,” Carly murmured, her lips against his neck. They had about an hour before sunset, and James knew of many private hideaways where they could be alone.
He also knew what would happen if they were.
Telling himself he could always keep going, that they didn’t have to stop, he took them on another loop around the bay. Of course, they found the perfect spot, hidden in a rocky, sun-drenched cove, so he lowered anchor and brought an old, scratchy blanket out from belowdecks. They sat together for a while, watching the sun dip low on the horizon and letting the gentle pitch and sway of the waves lull them into a drowsy sensual reverie.
James wasn’t sure if he reached for her first, or if she started touching him. It just seemed as though one moment they were holding hands, side by side, the next they were holding each other. When he kissed her, he felt her lips tremble. His hand slipped under her T-shirt and she moaned, arching her back, giving herself to him.
Most of the times they’d been together, Carly had been the sexual aggressor. This time, he couldn’t allow her to bear the brunt of the responsibility for their actions. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he’d dropped anchor, gone into the cab to get the blanket, and checked his wallet for the condom he’d been keeping there.
If he was going to lay her down on an old wool blanket atop the tar-soaked planks of
“Your tits have been driving me crazy all day,” he said against her mouth, cupping their delicate weight in his hands.
“Why?” she asked.
“I thought you weren’t wearing a bra. I could see the shape of your nipples.”
She gasped, because he was tracing their shape now, brushing his thumbs over the distended tips that were poking against the lacy fabric of her bra.
Emboldened by his words, she ran her hand up his thigh. In the past, he hadn’t let her touch him because he’d known his control would disintegrate. Today, he must have left his control, and his conscience, on the mainland, because he guided her hand directly to the danger zone and initiated a stage four emergency.
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she squeezed his hardened flesh experimentally, watching him through half-lidded eyes.
The pleasure was so intense it almost blinded him.
“James,” she said, “I want-”
He stilled her hand. “I know.”
Pulling her T-shirt over her head, he tossed it aside. She returned the favor, tearing his shirt in the process, ripping buttons from holes as she pushed it off his shoulders.
The top of his head nearly came off with it.
Panting, she pressed her lips to his, running her hands all over him, exploring the muscles in his arms and back. He knew he didn’t have the kind of body girls swooned over, but the way she was touching him made him feel like he did.
“Now,” she whispered, rolling away from him to kick off her jeans.
With a low groan, he unzipped his own, and she reached for him, putting her hand down the front of his pants.
Her mouth formed a soft O of wonder as she curled her fingers around him.
He was lost in a visual, sexual trance, mesmerized by her hand, moving up and down on him; her body, exquisitely revealed by a few triangles of cream-colored lace; her skin, dusky gold in the waning light; and her lips, soft and moist and pursed in concentration.
Making a strangled sound, he thrust his tongue into her mouth again and slid his hand over her taut belly, into her panties. “Oh, God,” he gasped, feeling her heat.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh-” He was beyond ordinary communication skills. “Carly-”
“Let me,” she said, and in that moment, he would have allowed her anything. Smiling, she unclasped her bra and let it fall. Stripped her tiny panties down her slim hips.
“Oh my God,” he repeated. Her naked body was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“You’d better have a condom,” she warned.
“Wait,” he heard himself say, but when she lay back on the wool blanket, he positioned himself over her, digging the condom out of his pocket. “You’re not ready.”
“Yes I am,” she countered, wrapping her long, sleek legs around him.
He made quick work of the condom, wishing it were fashioned out of something strong enough to slow him down. Like titanium-lined neoprene.
James knew, even if Carly didn’t, that they were moving too fast. He’d meant to touch her first, to take his time, to be sweet and tender and gentle, but she was writhing with impatience, and he was out of his mind with desire. Unable to hold himself back, he thrust inside her, taking her virginity with very little fanfare and absolutely no finesse.
Carly cried out, her body tensing under his.
James lifted his head to look at her face. It was pinched with pain. “Did I hurt you?” he managed, his voice raw.
She nodded, tears flooding her eyes.
His gut clenched with regret, and he tried to withdraw. It was a valiant effort, and he moved back slightly, but the friction was too much for him. His hips jerked forward again involuntarily.
