Page 51 of Uncharted

She works the base of my cock with one hand and plays with my balls in the other. When she runs her tongue along the underside of my dick while sucking even harder, I’m lost. “Shit, damn. This is too good. Sassy, I’m going to come in your mouth if you don’t slow down.”

Instead of popping off, she sucks harder. My eyes close, and stars shoot around my head. I’m pulling at her hair to get me out of her mouth, but she’s tugging harder the other way. The tension I feel while pulling on her hair turns me on. Fuck, it’s her hair, her head, not even my own, but I know how she likes it and that makes me harder.

She lightly puts pressure on my nuts, and I’m gone. Hot streams flood Sassy’s mouth. I’m half done, rockets bursting behind my eyes, when I remember to look at my girl taking my come. She swallows it down. And my cock pops out of her mouth.

“Fucking hell.” Sam’s standing in the doorway to the galley. His eyes are wide.

The color drains out of Sassy’s face. She opens her mouth, but I put a hand on her shoulder. If he even raises his voice half a decibel, we are going to be having more than words. I give Sassy my hand, raising her to her feet. “Sam.” I match his tone.

“How the hell is your damn cock that big?”

I laugh and look Sassy in the eyes. “Guess you have another guy who’s jealous of my cock.”

“Not jealous, just worried about Haley’s internal organs. Throat, stomach, hell, maybe even her upper intestines.”

Haley turns away from him with a smirk on her puffy lips, but the start of an embarrassed glow rises up her neck. She pulls up her shorts, and tucks in her shirt. I shrug and hop down from the counter.

Sam regains some composure. “Zane took the food off the grill like you told him to.”

“Perfect. I’m sure Sassy would like something else to eat.” I wink at Sam. “We’ll be right there.” Sam stares at me, not moving. “Give us a minute, Sam. We’ll be right there.”

Chapter23

Dinner Bell

Zane

When I open the grill again, just to check it, damn, the pasta smells amazing. It’s done, and I take it out, setting it on the counter next to the grill. Back in the before time, when we’d brought the boat from the shipyard and moved to port where we picked up Easton, I’d been the one making a lot of the crew meals. But I certainly never made anything like this on a grill before. Cheese oozes out, bubbling around a golden crust. I’m worse than a dog—I’m absolutely salivating.

Sure, everything Dante has made us has been amazing, but I can’t wait to dig into this. It’s weird, though. We’ve been eating nothing but fish and fruit. You’d think I’d feel weak or off eating the same thing over and over, but I don’t at all. I’m spot on—I feel better than I ever have. Like, ever.

Dante said after I take it off, it would need to sit for a while. I fasten the aluminum foil back over the top of it. Penny’s around here somewhere. I push the dish to the back of the counter to keep it out of her temptation zone. I don’t know where Easton’s gone off to. And after barging in on Haley and Sam in the wheelhouse, I’m going to let them have their peace. I’m in a flap about what might happen. I’ve known the captain for a while now, and on an average day, I’d never think about competing with him. What would be the point? He’s like one of those fit models you see in those underwear adverts on billboards. I’m not minging, and since I started yachting, I’ve gotten proper fit, but I’m nothing to look at. But damn, I’m confident our Little Bird won’t hurt me and forget about me. I think.

I dash inside, pulling the doors closed behind me. I like Penny, but I don’t want her to get to lunch first. I’m through the salon down the main stairs. I weave around, looking for Easton. Damn, I miss radios. The Rock Candy’s massive. There’s no yelling from one side of her to the other. “Easton.” I project down the corridor, but there’s no answer. At least I know where Calvin is. I head to the engine room and knock on the open door. Bloody hell, it’s humid down here. Captain mentioned a patch he made to the hull.

That’s when I see Easton’s bum in the air. He’s mopping up the floor. “Hey.”

Easton stands up, smacking the top of his head on a pipe. The thud echoes through the room. “Fuck.”

“Shit, are you okay?” I grab his bicep to steady him.

Easton’s holding his head. “I think so.” He lifts his hand, holding it to his face. There’s no blood.

“You’re sure, man? Let me see.”

“Yeah.” He tips his head to the side—no blood.

“Right, well, lunch is ready on the back deck.”

He takes the rag and wrings it out into the bucket. “Great.” I’m not sure why, but I expect him to toss the rag into the bucket and leave them on the floor, but he doesn’t. He grabs both the towel and the bucket and heads out. “Green said to dump it into the slop sink, since the water might have oil in it. But I don’t know where that is.”

I nod. Every day, Rockwell shows me he’s not what I thought he was in the beginning. Although, I still can’t fathom having even a one-nighter with Brianna. I shiver internally. “That’s the way to do it,” I say about the sink. I’m always protecting the water, and even more so here. We can’t poison the land that’s feeding us. “Where is Green?”

“He went out back to check the crash patch.” I lead Rockwell to the laundry room, where he dumps the bucket and hangs the towel next to a couple other muddy-looking ones.

“Water’s pressurized if you want to wash your hands,” I tell him. “It’s cold but...”

“Thanks.”

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