Page 71 of Uncharted

“No.” I get what he’s saying. I need to let go of my racing thoughts. They’ve never helped me. They’re not my friends. It’s a fight.

“Let me help you see the truth.” His gentle kiss tastes of patience and kindness.

The tips of my fingers trace down his abs. If Calvin’s made of sculpted stone, Easton’s cast of steel, his taut muscles so defined the sinew ridges cut into each dip of his skin. I trail light touches around him. My eyes close. Easton tastes of a beginning, slow, calculated with care. Calvin’s beside me too. His nose nudges at my neck.

Chapter32

The Tide Waits for No One.

Sam

Calvin kisses her nose, then her cheek and ear. It’s a big contrast to what he just did to her. I’m hard again already, and I almost came from watching her. I couldn’t keep my hands off my cock. I wanted to touch her too. But there was something about the way they moved around her. They’re comfortable and practiced. It’s how Dante skimmed his hand down her chest to her core, triggering her like the firework display in Hong Kong on New Year’s Eve. The way Zane ran his finger over her lips... It’s a lot.

Damn. I’m learning about myself. Things I had no idea I... I like. Or might like. Or don’t hate. I’ve always been in charge when it comes to sex. I’m not one to be ordered around. This was different. Dante might think he’s the conductor, Calvin the boss, Easton the maestro, and Zane the caregiver—but Haley’s in charge. When she raises her chin, the four of them move around us like points on a compass. They stay out of the way. This isn’t about them, this is about what I could have with her, what I want with her. I’m in it this far. I’m ready to take it all the way.

My chest expands, and they blur into the background. The only thing I see now is her loose blond hair hanging over her dark red nipples. She’s an angel with the sunset glowing from the window behind her.

All my euphoria slips away. “The tide!” I’m about to jump to my feet?—

“Fuck.” Calvin sprints out the sliding door to the back sun deck, his white ass flashing by us, the rest of the guys zipping out of the salon too.

I resist every ounce of training I’ve ever had, and I hold Haley’s arms, keeping her from moving. I peck her on the cheek. The reality of it is that whatever has happened to the tender has already happened. Our moment is over, the bubble of intimacy in the room gone. And I’m the one who destroyed it. Fuck.

Her eyes flick to the sundeck and back to me. She wants to go too.

“Later.” I growl out the promise and let go of her arms, a light red imprint of where my hands were vanishing from her skin.

She nods. “Yes.”

I’m out the back door. I race across the sundeck and down the back stairs to the swim platform. The damn reef is peeking through the water, the white sharp teeth of the sun-bleached tops protruding out. Calvin’s in the water. Zane’s already hauling the motor on board. Easton and Dante hold the lines.

Calvin swims next to the reef. The Rock Candy made its way through the opening. In normal operations, I’d stay back, let the crew do what they needed to do. But this isn’t normal. It’s four mostly naked males yanking on the thing we need the most. It’s the lifeline we have between here and the beach. The yacht has a lot of fresh water, but not enough for us to stay on board for as long as it will take to get the engines running again.

Calvin bursts up through the water. “One small hole. But you can lift it without risking ripping it anymore. Damn.” He pushes himself up onto the side of the platform.

He really is one of the smartest sailors I’ve ever met. The natural inclination would be to pull the tender right onto the swim platform, but that could have split it down the middle. My eyes flash to the gash on the side of Calvin’s foot.

“It’s nothing.” He takes the corner of the tender from where Easton’s holding the rope.

Zane’s back from putting the motor in the toy hauler room. We pull the raft onto the platform.

“Flip it toward me,” Calvin barks. It smacks the deck, and water pours out from the ropes around our feet, a trail of red circling Calvin. “Here.” He points to a small tear in the plastic.

Dante tosses Zane a drying rag.

Zane runs his fingers over the rip. “I can fix that. But I’ll want it to dry for at least twelve hours before we put it back in the water. The glue says two, but it’s not like we can run to port and get endless patches if it fails.”

“Agreed.” I frown at the tender. My gut tightens. This could have been a hell of a lot worse.

“Not your fault, Sam,” Easton says. His shoulders are next to mine.

“We all need to be more vigilant. The simplest mistake could hurt any one of us.”

Penny barks from where Haley is holding on to her collar on the sundeck at the top of the stairs.

“Let’s move it all the way to the toy hauler shed. We’re going to have to stay on board overnight.” Calvin bends and takes the bumper rope in his hand.

“Go sit down. I can move a damn boat—and put your damn foot up. I want to take a look at it.” Easton takes the rope from Calvin, who limps over to the deck chair at the edge of the toy hauler garage. We move the tender, giving Haley a view of the red-tinted ocean water spreading over the platform.

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