Page 57 of Unmoored

“It’s my main personality trait. Don’t you know that by now? I drunk-bought a houseboat.”

He laughs softly, and it rumbles through my shoulder, pressed up tight against his chest. “I meant bad as in naughty,” he murmurs. “But I’m glad you finally agree with me about Dawn’s Embrace.”

As I giggle, his footsteps change from hollow thuds to crunches. I can’t help myself, now that I know we’re on dry land. I turn my face toward him just enough that I can bury my face in his neck. I’m kissing the salt-spray off his skin, running my hands down his back as far as I can reach…

“Fuck,” Murph grunts. And it’s not from the strain of carrying me, either. His breathing is rough and heavy all of a sudden.

“That spot, hm?” I murmur, wriggling around in Murph’s arms to press my lips against the same place on the other side of his neck. His breathing is suddenly rougher and heavier—especially when I brush the tip of my tongue in soft circles around it, then up to his jawline.

Murph grunts down at me, his hold growing ever-tighter. “You’re not even worried about making me drop you.”

“Nah.” I let my fingertip trail across his shoulder to his ear, tracing the curve of it gently as he loses the rhythm of his gait and almost stumbles on flat ground. “You wouldn’t let me down like that.”

Murph growls softly as he climbs up the porch steps. “I won’t. But you sure do like to push your luck.”

“Again… you should know me by now,” I chirp up at him. “You’ve seen enough of me.”

“Have I? I don’t think so. You’ll have to remind me and show me again.” Murph shoulders his way through the front door, carrying me into the house. It smells of coffee and breakfast, but we’re heading straight upstairs.

The anticipation is making every muscle in my body go taut. A shiver of delight runs down my spine. I moan softly, pressing my face into his neck. The lights are all off, and I can barely see a thing in here, but Murph doesn’t break his stride as he reaches the landing and carries me through the closest doorway.

“At last,” Murph rumbles, tossing me onto the bed.

I squeak softly at the adrenaline rush, but I’m too needy, too hungry for him after a whole minute of being nestled up tight against his warm body. I spread out all my limbs, arms and legs, making like a starfish on the huge, soft, warm bed.

God, I missed a real bed.

“Come here,” I moan, patting my stomach.

Murph’s eyes glitter down at me as he tumbles down on top of me. I hiss softly as the heat of his hard body presses against me once more. He’s crawling over me, his gaze intently fixed on my face.

“Right there? Or here?” He strokes his hand down my face, swiping his thumb over my cheek. I gasp, arching into his touch, throw my head back… but he’s not done. “Or should I come here?” He traces his fingertips along my collarbone, lingering at the indent in the middle.

My pulse flutters in my suddenly-tight throat as I smile up at him, brighter and brighter. It’s unbearably hot… but it’s more than that, too. It feels like there’s nothing Murph’s ever wanted quite so much as me.

That’s a feeling I could get used to.

“Where’s that sassy mouth of yours now?” Murph teases me.

I gasp with delighted surprise, swallowing my giggle. “I’m just thinking about it,” I defend myself. “And I’m opting for… all of the above.”

“All?” Murph grins, leaning in to lap at my neck, kissing behind my ear. “It might take us a few rounds.”

“Fine by me. As long as you don’t lick my ears,” I warn him, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders.

Murph snorts and grazes his teeth along my neck, making me gasp and tilt my head to the side. “One condition? That’s a low bar.”

You’d be surprised?—

No. No, I’m not going to think about that right now. I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted to do, what Murph says he wants to do… and let him have me.

“Oh, there are more.” I swallow thickly, my voice hoarse. I’m trembling again with sheer need, pressing my face into his shoulder. “The full… terms and conditions… will take too long to read right now. You could just click accept and continue…”

“Where is that?” Murph murmurs. “Wait. Don’t answer that.” He runs one hand slowly down my side to pick up where we left off in the boat. “Right here?”

“Y-Yes…!” I whimper, throwing my head back into the pillows. “Oh, fuck.”

“Good, hm?” Murph squeezes me through my shorts and grins as I lose my breath, my train of thought, all capacity for speech. Heat burns through me—need, raw and pure desire—until he finally loosens his grip enough for me to think.

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