Rock the Boat: A Griffin Bay Novel (16 page)

“Not yet,” Davis managed to say. It was a supreme effort, to slow her down, to pull her back from the brink. He wanted her to come again—but he wanted to make this night last, just like she did. And… “I still want to watch you,” he whispered. “I want to look at you while I fuck you.”

She smiled down at him. Her hair was a dark tangle around her face. That smile, the look of warmth in her eyes—Davis’s earlier thought returned with quiet force.
I’ll never find a woman like you again
. He slid his hands up her body, wanting to hold onto the moment—and her—for as long as he could. He held her slender waist, brushed his hands up her sides, cupped her breasts… and couldn’t make himself let go. They felt too perfect in his hands, small and warm, her nipples rising hard against his palms. He massaged them slowly, gently, until Jordan’s head rolled back, exposing her white throat as she moaned.

Jordan began to rise and fall again, responding to his touch. She went slowly at first—which was good. Davis already felt on the point of bursting; he didn’t think he could last long once she picked up her speed. He tugged gently at her nipples until her breaths came fast and rough. But he wanted just a little more from her. He wanted to hear her moan.

He reached down, ready to use his hand to help her along. But Jordan caught him by the wrist. He glanced up at her face and noted the look of humor in her eyes. She lifted Davis’s hand to her mouth and, as on their first encounter, she slid his thumb between her lips. Then she moved on to his finger, teasing it with her tongue, sucking it exactly as she had his cock. Her mouth moved in the same steady rhythm as her hips; fire flooded Davis’s guts. In another moment, this would be too much for him to resist.

He pulled his hand out of her reach and touched her just where she wanted. As his fingers circled her, tighter, faster, she rose and fell with increasing speed. Davis groaned, trying to hold back. He had to make this last, had to hold onto this forever…

But when Jordan’s cries of passion came tumbling from her throat, Davis knew he couldn’t wait anymore. The sound of her voice drove him relentlessly toward the edge. Her cries rose to a fever pitch, then with a high, wordless yell she fell across his body, wracked by shudders and ragged gasps. The feel of her tightening around his cock sent Davis into a haze of blissful agony. He came just moments after she did, growling with the force of his climax.

Jordan made as if to roll off him, but Davis wrapped her tight in his arms and held her against his chest.

“Wait,” he whispered, barely able to speak. “I want to make this last.”

He thought she would resist him—thought she would revert to the stern, businesslike captain and jump up, already distancing herself from what they had done. But she settled at once in his embrace, sighing sweetly as she cuddled down against his neck.

When the euphoria had drained somewhat from his body, Davis reluctantly let go of Jordan so he could attend to the condom. But as soon as he’d tossed it in the cabin’s trash can, he came back to bed and lay beside her. She stretched luxuriously, clearly in no hurry to go anywhere. Davis pulled her head against his shoulder and ran his fingers through her long, dark hair, wondering what this quiet contentment meant… and how he could leave this feeling behind when tomorrow came.

.19.

J
ordan did her best to lie still beside Davis. Pressed close to his warm body, she felt him drift in and out of sleep, though she remained as wakeful as ever, musing over the changes that had come over her. She was surprised to find all her previous annoyance with Davis gone—utterly vanished, evaporating like mist on a summer morning. She didn’t know whether the fire of their passion had burned all her resentment up, or whether she had let it go sometime before, up on the deck while she listened to him talk about his life.

It certainly seemed like a complicated life—much more than she would ever have suspected. She’d always thought of many of her clients as privileged and out-of-touch, and as such, worthy of more scorn than sympathy. Until her talk with Davis, she hadn’t realized how tangled a person’s life could become when so much money was at stake. Nor had she realized that
she
had something in her life worth envying—something even a person like Davis wished for: a loving, supportive family, and a job that truly made her happy, even with the wild swings of its ups and downs.

She lightly brushed Davis’s shoulder, feeling the softness of his skin, and marveled at the strange affinity the two of them shared. Both of them stood at a crossroads with their work, neither knowing which road they should take next.

Funny, that fate brought us together at this exact point in our lives
. Jordan had never been one to believe in destiny, or even in a higher power. But as she listened to his steady breathing, Jordan wondered if there was some mysterious, greater purpose at work.

Her feelings for Davis were so strong they verged on the terrifying. The
intensity
with which she had formerly hated his guts was still there, and still just as strong. But she certainly didn’t feel anything approaching hatred now. Davis was kind. He was respectful, even while he took her breath away in bed with that smooth, perfectly natural domination. He was thoughtful, friendly to her crew, and the sensitivity he’d revealed through his music—the hurt and vulnerability she heard in his voice and in the notes of his guitar—made a striking counterpoint to his habitual cockiness.

Now that she had seen the person inside the rock-star shell, Jordan realized she liked Davis. A lot.

No… she
more
than liked him.

The realization nearly choked her. She gave a ragged gasp, and Davis shifted and murmured in his sleep. Jordan held her breath until he settled again, breathing in a slow, steady rhythm.

But her heart still pounded. Was it true? Could she love a man like Davis, who was so much her opposite, in every way?

I can’t love him
, she insisted, her practical side rearing up to blot out her spontaneity.
Because tomorrow he’ll be gone. I’ll never see him again. And if I fall in love with him, what will that do to me?

But Jordan’s stomach sank. She had a feeling it was no longer a matter of
if
. The damage was done. Davis had carved out a permanent place in her heart—a place she was afraid no one else could ever occupy.

The thought upset her. She needed fresh air. Even though leaving him was agony—especially when she knew their time together was so short—Jordan dressed quietly and slipped up to the deck.

The night was chilly, but the stars were astoundingly bright and clear, and reflected in the smooth expanse of dark water between the faint shapes of the islands. She huddled in her sweatshirt and looked up at the stars, tormenting herself with a hundred desperate questions.

Why would you do this to yourself?

What were you thinking?

How can you love a man like him?

How can you
not
love him, now that you know who he really is?

And the hardest question of all—
Now that you know how good you can feel, in your body and your heart, how can you get through life without him?

The questions tumbled through Jordan’s head over and over, but neither the moon nor the islands offered any answers. Tears flooded her eyes until the stars melted into one blur of silver streaked across the sky.

The
Coriolis
rocked gently. Jordan knew that Davis had risen from his bed. A few moments later he came up onto the deck; she dried her eyes quickly on the sleeve of her sweatshirt so he wouldn’t know she had been crying. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body. She melted into his warmth, loving the tingle that raced over her skin everywhere their bodies met, and hating the tangle of emotions that swelled in her throat.

“Hey,” he whispered in her ear. “I missed you down there.”

“Sorry. I just had to think.”

“About what?”

Jordan couldn’t come up with a simple answer to that question, any more than she could answer the painful queries in her own mind. She turned in his embrace and stared up at him, bereft of words. But his eyes widened when he saw the pain in her face. Jordan could tell he was startled by how completely her pain mirrored his own soul-deep ache.

“You’re thinking about tomorrow,” Davis said.

“Yes.”

She hid her face against his chest, breathing in his smell, taking in so much of it she thought her lungs would burst. But it still wasn’t enough.

Jordan laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to say good-bye to you. If anybody had told me this morning that I’d feel this way, that I’d say these things tonight, I never would have believed them.”

“But you do feel this way.” Davis lifted her face with one hand beneath her chin. His blue eyes held her with a long, searching stare. Finally he said. “So do I.”

Jordan’s heart soared. And a long knife of pain in her middle, too. “I shouldn’t feel this way. Neither should you.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re so different—so opposite. We’re from totally different worlds. You’re a huge rock star—”

“Maybe not so huge anymore,” he said lightly.

“And I’m just some girl from a podunk island in the middle of nowhere.”

Davis laughed. “You are not
just some girl
. You’re so much more.”

“But we’re from different worlds,” Jordan insisted. “We should feel like strangers, not… not like this.”

Davis shrugged. “This all makes perfect sense to me. The worlds we’re from don’t matter. It’s the way we make each other feel that counts.”

Jordan swallowed hard and rested her head on his chest again. She couldn’t look him in the eye when she asked her next question. She was too afraid she would see something
less
in his eyes than what she felt—and just as afraid that she’d see
exactly
what she felt. “So… how do I make you feel, then?”

His arms wrapped her more tightly. “Calm,” he said. “Focused. In control of my life. Which is funny, because I’m
not
in control of my life—not at all. I have no idea what comes next. But when I’m with you, I feel like that’s okay. I feel like… everything will work out in the end.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You take your life so seriously. I used to think that was a bad thing—that it made you, and people like you, somehow stunted. Like you weren’t living life fully enough. I thought that as long as I kept moving, kept partying, kept being loud and wild, I was actually living my life, getting the most out of it.” He paused thoughtfully and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think that anymore. You haven’t missed out on life by being focused and driven—not at all. You have everything
I’ve
always wanted—everything I wish I had now.”

She laughed against his chest. “That’s hard to believe. A rock star envying an island girl?”

“It’s true, though. I want a family like yours. I’ve never even met them—except for Storm, of course—but I already know they’re a
real
family, warm and loving and supportive. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“They are pretty great. I won’t deny it.”

“And you’ve found your calling.”

“What, sailing?”

“Don’t say, ‘What, sailing?’ as if it’s nothing! You’re
magical
when you sail. So smart and capable, so natural. It amazes me. It’s like you’ve got some kind of superhuman power.”

She giggled again. “Anybody can learn how to do it. Really, it’s not that special.”

“It
is
special, because it’s
yours
. And because you’ve made it more than just sailing—you’ve turned it into your whole life.”

“But you’ve done the same with music.”

Davis grew suddenly melancholy. She could feel his arms loosen around her and he sighed heavily. “Yeah… music. I’ll hate to give it up, but—”

“What? Davis, you can’t give up your music!” She stared up at him, astounded. “It’s as much a part of you as sailing is a part of me.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Of course!” She blushed. Somehow, even after the passion they’d shared, it seemed almost
too
intimate to talk about Davis’s music—about the depth of vulnerability she had seen when he’d played by himself. But she forced the words out anyway. “When you played alone, out here on the bow, it was like I saw something in you that you’ve never shown to anybody else.”

“You did,” he said softly.

“It was amazing, Davis. The power you have when you play like that… from your
heart
, not the loud, thrashy stuff… I don’t think too many other musicians can do it. I don’t think there are many people out there who have a gift like yours.”

“Thanks,” he said. His eyes shone in the moonlight. “That means a lot to me.”

“You
can’t
give up music. It’s what you were meant to do.”

“But I don’t know how to save The Local Youths. I can’t think of a single trick that can turn us around and get us back onto the charts. Sky Records will drop us for sure, and then it’ll be all over.”

“What will your band mates do?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, they’ll all be just fine. They’ve each got a few side projects; they’ll get by and end up with new successes of their own. I’m the only one who has to worry. I’ve got nothing else going on.”

“Why don’t you make something else—start a new project of your own?”

He shook his head. “It’s just not that simple. There’s so much that goes into launching a solo career… if Tyler is already on the verge of dropping me, he won’t invest in some acoustic-solo act.”

“I don’t know about that, Davis. He invested a lot just to give you a chance to figure out what you want from your career.
A lot
. Do you have any idea what he paid me to take you on this little sailing excursion?”

“No,” Davis said cautiously. “How much?”

“A hundred-fifty-thousand bucks.”

Davis whistled.

“It’s more money than I’ve ever earned on a single trip. But don’t you see? Tyler isn’t as hopeless as you think. He
believes
in you—he wants to keep you on the label. Why else would he drop so much money to get your head straightened out?”

Davis scratched at his facial hair, his eyes distant with thought. “I didn’t know he spent
that
much. Maybe he really will be willing to try—to give me one last chance.”

Jordan took Davis’s hands in her own. “See? You have to stick with your music. There’s so much power in your voice, so much feeling. A solo album will catch on. It has to. It just
has
to.”

“It still feels risky to me. But I’m willing to try it.” His crooked smile sent a wave of warmth cresting in Jordan’s heart. “You know, I’ve even felt inspired to write some new songs, since I got a little more thoughtful and quiet, and really paid attention to the beauty of this place.”

But he didn’t look out at the night-darkened islands as he spoke of beauty. He never took his eyes off Jordan’s face.

Davis pulling her into his arms again. “Jordan, if I go back to my music and try to convince Tyler to invest in me as a solo artist… it’ll mean I’ll have to stay in Seattle. And I’ll be busy. I won’t have a lot of time to get back out to the islands.”

A tiny hope flared in her chest. “You planned to come back?”

Davis kissed her, long and deep, until she felt dizzy and breathless. When they broke apart, he said, “I did, and I
do
. But I won’t be able to come back very often. I’ll need to stay focused on my work.”

“You’re so driven now,” she said. “Maybe even a little obsessed with your career? I guess I’ve rubbed off on you.”

“I’m pretty sure I owe you some thanks for that. Have I had any lasting effect on
you
?”

Jordan thought back on the overwhelming desire she had for him, the way he had loosed her from her tight-laced ways. Davis had shown her how to be free, spontaneous—even wild. “Oh, some,” she said. “Maybe a
little
bit.”