Page 22 of Lost At Sea With A Billionaire

I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every lick, suck, and taste of her wet mouth.Janet’s hands explored my back, tracing the muscles that had grown more defined during our time on the island.When she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, the world narrowed to just this moment, just us.

My lips traveled from her mouth to her jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.She arched beneath me, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Jonathan,” she whispered, her voice urgent, needy.

I raised my head to look at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and parted lips.At that moment, she was more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.

“Janet, I want?—”

A tremendous crash interrupted us, the sound of a palm tree falling nearby.We both jolted upright, our survival mode kicking in times one thousand.

“That sounded close,” Janet said, her breathing still uneven.

Another crash, this one accompanied by water suddenly pooling at the edge of our shelter.The storm had intensified, threatening our temporary home.

“The drainage trench,” I said, recognizing the problem immediately.“It’s overflowing.”

Reality intruded with brutal annoyance.If we didn’t act quickly, our shelter and supplies would flood.

Janet was already moving, pulling her shirt back down and running a hand through her tousled hair.“I’ll get the tarp from the supply pile.”

I grabbed my wet shirt, yanking it back on even in discomfort.“I’ll dig the trench deeper,”I said.

We exchanged a look—regret, desire, and practicality all mixed together.What was building between us would have to wait.Survival came first.

I ducked into the storm to protect our camp with the thoughts of moments ago on a high reel in my mind.For the first time since we’d been stranded, I was grateful for the isolation that had brought us together, even as I recognized the impossibility of what we’d started.

As rain pelted my skin and mud caked my hands, I realized I desperately wanted Janet Banks, but would she want me in the same compacity?I wanted the answer to be yes.I needed it to be.

Chapter7

Janet

Morning light filtered through the palm fronds of our shelter, casting dappled shadows across Jonathan’s sleeping face.I’d been awake for nearly an hour, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, trying to process what had almost happened between us last night.

His features were softer in sleep, andthe hard lines of his usually fierce structural face relaxed into something gentler.A small cut on his chin had scabbed over, his fade was growing out into a wilder untamed looked that gave him a devilish air of ruggedly handsomeness, and his full lips were slightly parted.In this unguarded state, he looked less like the controlling billionaire CEO and more like the man I was rapidly falling for.

I carefully extricated myself from the tangle of salvaged blankets, not wanting to wake him.The storm had passed, leaving the island smelling fresh and renewed.Puddles dotted the sand, reflecting the cloudless blue sky above.I stretched, my muscles aching from our mad dash to save our shelter from flooding last night.

That and the delicious tension that had built between us before the storm interrupted.

Those few moments kept replaying in my mind—the heat of his mouth on mine, the electricity of his hands on my skin, the firmness of his hard body pressing me into the blankets.We’d come so close to crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, and part of me regretted the falling tree that had brought us back to reality.

I went to our freshwater collection system, checking that the storm hadn’t damaged it.The containers were overflowing—at least we’d have plenty to drink today.I splashed my face and attempted to tame my wild hair with wet fingers.

“Morning.”

I turned to find Jonathan watching me from the entrance of our shelter.He’d pulled on a relatively clean t-shirt, and his feet were bare.The sight of him like this—disheveled, casual, completely unpretentious—sent a flutter through my chest and tingles to my pussy.

“Morning,” I replied, suddenly self-conscious.“How’s the arm?”

He glanced down at the bandage.“Better.You do good work.”

“Thanks, I have a very cooperative patient.”I hesitated, unsure how to navigate the charged air between us.“About last night?—”

“We should check the fish traps,” he interrupted, avoiding my eyes.“And I want to salvage more from the yacht before it sinks completely.”

Disappointment washed over me.Was he regretting what happened?“Sure.Let me just grab my knife.”

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