Page 183 of Better When Shared
“Almost there,” Makai announced, after a while, pointing toward a crescent of sandy beach nestled between two rocky arms ofland. “Best swimming spot around. It’s sheltered and shallow, so the water stays warmer. And we’ll have it all to ourselves.”
They worked together to bring us into the cove. Makai moved to the bow to prepare the anchor while Hamish adjusted our course, his back muscles flexing with each turn of the wheel. The sails fluttered as Makai directed Hamish to turn into the wind, and then we were gliding to a stop in crystal-clear water. They released the lines and dropped the mainsail with a gentle woosh.
The anchor chain rattled as Makai released it, and the boat settled into place with a gentle sway. I gripped my book like a lifeline, painfully aware of the wetness between my legs, the hardened peaks of my nipples pressing against my bra.
“Lunch time,” Makai announced, stretching his arms overhead in a way that showcased every ripple of his abdomen. With his hair pulled back in a half-knot and his skin glistening in the sun, he looked like a pirate from some erotic fantasy—wild and dangerous and impossibly beautiful.
I tore my gaze away only to find it landing on Hamish, who’d bent to retrieve something from his bag. His khaki shorts had slipped down, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones and the beginning of that perfect V that led to places I knew intimately but suddenly wanted to explore again. The sight was almost pornographic in its casual display, and I shifted in my seat, unable to relieve the ache building inside me.
What the fuck was happening to me? This wasn’t normal. I didn’t fantasize about my husband with other people. Mypanties shouldn’t get wet just from watching two men sail a boat. Should they?
I squirmed in my seat, trying to focus on the stunning scenery around us rather than the equally stunning view of the two men preparing lunch in the cockpit. It didn’t help. Not one bit.
Chapter 7
Makai
The sun beat down on my back, warming my skin to the perfect temperature as I stretched out on the deck. Days this warm were rare on the Salish Sea. It was warm enough to make the water glisten invitingly. Warm enough to swim.
I glanced at Hamish, who was adjusting the anchor line with newfound confidence, his pale skin already taking on a hint of color from our outdoor fun. He’d been a natural at sailing, picking up in hours what took some of my clients weeks to grasp. His wife, though—I couldn’t figure out what was going on with Imogen.
She’d barely touched her lunch, her cheeks flushed pink despite sitting in the shade of the mainsail. Every time I caught her eye, she’d look away, burying her face in that book she’d been clutching like a lifeline. I supposed these were the consequences of my parking lot antics.
I gathered the remains of our picnic lunch, stuffing sandwich wrappers back into the cooler. Hamish had insisted on bringing wine—some fancy French vintage that probably cost more than I made in a day—and Imogen had packed an impressive spread of cheeses and fresh fruit. Rich people food. Still good, though.
“You’ve got the makings of a real sailor,” I told Hamish as I wiped down the cockpit seat. “Skylar would be impressed. She’s usually the one handling the sails when we take clients out. I never even thought we’d offer sailing lessons, until she inherited her grandfather’s boat. Taught me to sail and everything. And clients seem to love it.”
Hamish beamed at the compliment, his entire face transforming. “I think I love it. Like I’ve been missing this my whole life without knowing it.”
I laughed, cuffing him playfully on the shoulder. “Figures you’d like the typical rich asshole sport best.”
“Bugger off.” He stuck his tongue out at me. “I liked surfing best. This is second best.”
“We should think about heading back soon,” I said, glancing at the sky. “Forecast said we’d get a lull in the winds this afternoon. Don’t want to get stuck out here.”
“Is that a problem?” Imogen asked, finally looking up from her book. Was it me, or was her voice breathless?
I shrugged, trying not to stare at the way her blouse had fallen open at the neck, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone. “Not really, but it means we’ll have to motor back, which isn’t as fun.”
She licked her lips, her gaze darting between Hamish and me. “I think we could stay a while. It’s... lovely here.”
Hamish nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on his wife in a way that made me feel like I was intruding on something private. “Just a little more time,” he echoed, headed towards the companionway. “I’m going below to get something to drink. Anyone need anything?”
“Could you take this?” I tossed the last of the trash into a bag and handed it to him, and he ducked into the companionway, taking it with him.
I flopped down on the bench opposite Imogen. The boat rocked gently beneath us. The only sounds were the lapping of water against the hull and the distant cry of gulls. And an occasional flip of a page.
“What are you reading?” I asked, nodding toward the book she’d barely put down all day. “Must be good.”
Her reaction was immediate and intense—her cheeks flamed crimson, she clutched the book tighter, and her eyes went wide with something like panic. “Nothing. Just... a novel. For research. For weddings.”
I laughed, intrigued by her obvious discomfort. “Research, huh?”
Before she could respond, I plucked the book from her hands. It was a move I pulled on Skylar all the time, but the moment I looked down at the page she was on, I realized I’d crossed a line.
Jake took Cole deep into his mouth, savoring the salt taste of pre-cum as I watched, unbelievably turned on. My hand slipped beneath the waistband of my panties, and I whimpered as they turned their attention to me, cocks hard and ready
Holy shit. This was pure filth. Really fucking sexy filth.
