Unseen Messages(97)

What I wanted was her.

A thousand times her.

I gritted my teeth; balled my hands. I did everything I could to fight the undeniable urges volcanoing in my blood.

“Estelle, I suggest you move away from me.”

I gave her a warning.

I was a gentleman.

If I touched her now, kissed her, f*cked her...it would be her fault for coming too close when she knew the uncrossable boundaries between us.

“Just tolerate me for a few seconds and then I’ll be gone.” Her eyes dropped back to my thigh.

Tolerate?

She thought I couldn’t tolerate her?

Shit, I was in love with her. I spent my days falling more and more into goddamn love with her, and she thought I could barely tolerate her?

Stupid, stupid woman.

I couldn’t do it.

I sat up to push her away but the last band of my splint came away and the two sticks clunked to the sand, freeing me.

I groaned in relief. The support had kept my ankle straight, but hell, it’d been heavy and uncomfortable.

She smiled in the darkness. “Feel better?”

I’d feel better with you lying on top of me.

I swallowed, nodding tightly. “Yes. Now, go away.”

Even as I said it, her eyes fell from my mouth to the raging hard-on between my legs. My heart waged war on every other organ. “Estelle...”

“Yes?” Her normal breath turned into tormenting pants.

“Get away from me.”

Hurt clashed in her eyes. She dropped her head. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what for. But it’s time for you to leave.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What night?”

I knew exactly what night. The night she told me she wanted nothing to bloody do with me.

Her gaze flashed. “You know what.”

I chuckled caustically. “Oh, you mean the night you said you didn’t want me? That night?” I brushed aside my long hair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I’m over it.” Sitting a little higher, I growled, “Goodnight.”

She didn’t move.

For a bloody age, she didn’t move and everything inside howled to grab her. I had the control of a priestly saint not to fist her hair and kiss her—regardless what she said before.

But I didn’t.

Because I respected her.

And this island was too damn small to make a mistake with our friendship.

Because if I did kiss her, it would be a mistake.

And I’d made enough of those to last me a lifetime.

Finally, she moved. But not in the fashion I expected and needed. Oh hell no, her hand glided from her lap to my cock.

I jolted as if she’d shocked me with a hundred volts of power. “Goddammit, wha—what—” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

Her fingers stole my vocabulary as they wrapped sensually, possessively around my erection.

My back arched and I fell backward in the sand, giving everything to her because she’d finally touched me. Finally willingly, on her own damn merit, touched me.

This was a dream. I hadn’t woken up yet.

I’m still sleeping.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

I’d wanted this with every atom in my body. I didn’t deserve to get what I wanted. Estelle would never touch me without the secretive boundaries of slumber. Why should I push away a fantasy when it brought fleeting happiness?

I shouldn’t.

I won’t.

Her hand moved toward the Velcro of my board-shorts, ripping apart the fly and pushing her hand into my underwearless crotch.

The kids.

Screw, the kids.

This was a dream...and if it wasn’t...they could watch, for all I cared. My sainthood had been revoked, and I was nothing but raging blood and throbbing pressure and hissing fuse to the largest explosion in history.

Estelle touched me.

And her fingers felt a thousand times better on my naked flesh. Stars burst behind my eyes as she stroked my length.

Her touch caused paralysis. Her touch caused every sense to belong to her.

Only her.

Some part of my brain that was still human tried one last time to stop whatever she was doing.

I garbled nonsense, I half-heartedly shifted my hips, but her long hair tickled my exposed belly as she shook her head.

“No...no more thinking. Just relax. Let me do this for you.” Her lips whispered over mine as she bent over me, her hand working up and down, swirling around. Her thumb, shit, her thumb, found my crown, pressing hard on the sensitive tip, stealing the moisture she found there and smearing it down the shaft. “Let me return what you did for me.”

Fantasy.

Nightmare.

Hallucination.

Or was this death? Some cruel joke by the devil before sending me packing to Hell?

My left hand clutched the sand as I rode out the most intense hand job I’d ever experienced while my right thrust into her hair and smashed her lips against mine.

I needed this. I needed to come. So. Damn. Badly.

I’d serviced myself a few times over the past few months but that had been a necessity to rid the heavy ache in my balls. But this...hell this was pure utopia.

My breathing turned ragged as Estelle’s hand worked harder. She wasn’t messing around. She wasn’t there to tease me. She was there to make me come. Fast and efficient. A donation.