Lip Service [Private Relations 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, stepping back to let him pass. “I’ve got the cooler with lunch in my car. Lemme go grab that.”

  She had street parked right in front of his house. He said, “Gimme your keys. I’ll go get it. Is it in the trunk?”

  Passing the keys to him, she said, “Yeah.”

  Moving to the curb, he disarmed the alarm, popped the trunk and grabbed the cooler out. Setting it down, he closed the trunk and rearmed the alarm.

  “So what did you make me for lunch?”

  “I made us,” she paused, emphasizing that there was food for two in the cooler, “pasta salad, fresh fruit, sandwiches. Oh, and I packed drinks, too, just in case.”

  “Sounds promising. What kind of sandwiches?” he asked.

  “Tuna salad. Extra mayo.”

  He had popped the trunk to the Jag and was in the process of putting the cooler and his bag inside when he paused to look at her, his lip curled in disgust.

  “Sick. Really?”

  “I’ve known you for a decade,” she said. “Do you really think I’d do that? I was just kidding. Turkey club. No mayo on yours.”

  Shooting her a disgusted look, he said, “I don’t understand how you can possibly enjoy mayonnaise. It’s disgusting.”

  He took the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and added it to the trunk.

  After a moment, he said, “But thank you for remembering,” and then smiled at her.

  Moving to her side of the car, he opened the door so she could get in.

  Glancing up at him once she’d settled into the passenger seat, she said, “Aren’t you a gentleman today?”

  He smirked and said, “I’m a gentleman every day, Chloe.”

  Shutting her door, he walked around to his side of the car. Sliding in, he backed out of the driveway and headed toward the marina. Twenty minutes later, bags and cooler in tow, they made their way to the boat.

  He had decided on a pleasure boat because he doubted he’d be up for water skiing, and wanted a boat big enough that he could take people out fishing. The upkeep was a total bitch, but it was worth it when he had a chance to go out on the water.

  Moving the boat closer to the dock, he set the bags and cooler inside, then climbed in. Chloe stumbled as she moved into the boat. For a moment their bodies were flush against one another as he steadied her. He could feel her breasts pressing into his chest. He tried not to focus on that fact as he backed way, and straightened himself out.

  He asked, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I slid. I’m good now. Thanks.”

  He watched as she grabbed their bags and moved them into the cabin area and set them on the small couch, then turned back to the entrance.

  He lugged the cooler into the small cabin area and moved the food and drinks into the minifridge.

  They moved out to the deck of the boat and untied the lines that connected the boat to the dock like they had done a million times. Climbing up onto the sun deck, Chris started the boat, and slowly started to creep out of the slip.

  Chris looked back for a moment and saw Chloe leaning back against the bench seat to his left, with a grin on her face. He continued idling the boat toward the harbor exit, until he heard Chloe say, “Shit. I forgot my camera. I’ve got a couple minutes until we start really moving right?”

  Looking over at her again, he said, “Yeah. Be careful, please.”

  Rolling her eyes, she got up, and climbed down the ladder to the main deck of the boat. A few moments later, she said, “I’m back. I managed not to injure myself or anything else.”

  “Impressive.”

  Sticking her tongue out, she moved the camera up and took a picture of him. Well, mostly of his hand, since he immediately shot it up to block her picture.

  “Oh. Come on, Chris. Just a couple. You know I scrapbook.”

  “I get final approval,” he said. “I don’t want you using anything where my mouth is hanging open or I look stupid.”

  Waving her hand in dismissal, she said, “Whatever. You take amazing pictures. I don’t think you even have a bad angle.”

  “I still get final approval?” he asked, not acknowledging her obvious attempt at flattery.

  “Fine. You can delete any of them that you’re in that you don’t like at the end of the day.”

  Shooting her a smug, satisfied smile, he continued to navigate them to open water. He slowed when they passed the outer harbor wall. It was covered in sunbathing sea lions. They were adorable, but being downwind was pretty awful. There was a combination of rotting fish and sea lion poop. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she wrinkled her nose and took a few pictures of them, and the harbor as they exited.

  By the time they made it to open water, he was feeling totally relaxed. He looked over at Chloe who had moved back into a relaxed sprawl on the bench seat next to him. He said, his voice raised so she could hear him, “This was a great idea.”

  Nodding, Chloe answered, “Totally. So where are we headed?”

  Shrugging he said, “I dunno. North? South? Which way?”

  “North,” she decided.

  Angling the wheel slightly, he asked, “You wanna drive?”

  When he looked back, her eyes widened and she asked, “Really? You won’t even ride in my car. You’re gonna let me drive your boat?”

  “Forget I asked. Point taken,” he said, smirking.

  Her face scrunched up with annoyance and she stood up. She said, “Nope. You’re stuck now.”

  He slowed the boat down significantly then stepped back to let her stand in front of him at the wheel.

  When she put her hands on the wheel, he stepped back into place behind her. She seemed startled for a minute so he said, “I saw what you did to your first car. We’re in open water, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  Wincing, she said, “Point taken. Oh hey! Hang on to the wheel a minute more and smile.”

  Holding her arms out she angled the camera toward them and leaned her head back on his chest, smiling.

  She took a couple of pictures and then he dryly asked, “You’re done now?”

  Smiling she said, “For now. Thank you.”

  Putting the camera strap back on her wrist, she put her hands on the wheel. Chris continued to stand behind her, his hands on the wheel next to hers. She leaned back against him again, to say something. He hadn’t even heard what it was.

  He couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond the feel of her body pressed against his. He wanted nothing more than to turn off the boat, drop anchor and drag her into the cabin. Feeling himself get aroused, he thought about baseball scores, Jabba the Hutt, anything to take his mind off the fact her body was currently snuggled up against his.

  He realized she was calling his name, so he answered, “Sorry. I was drifting. What did you say?”

  Turning her neck a little more she repeated her question.

  “How far do you want to go?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel.

  Clarifying, she asked, “How far north? We can’t drive forever.”

  Moving one of his hands off the wheel, he glanced at his watch. It was already 10:30.

  “Let’s drive another twenty minutes or so, then drop anchor for lunch. I skipped breakfast.”

  “I don’t normally eat breakfast. I’ll take extra sleep any day.”

  “Want me to take over?” he asked, desperate to separate himself from her.

  Smiling, she said, “Nope. I like driving.”

  She snuggled back against him again and he let his body relax. He knew he wasn’t really supposed to be enjoying it, but this was kind of nice.

  For the next twenty minutes, they continued to stand there, with him pressed up against her behind the wheel, her leaning back against his chest. Neither of them spoke. They just enjoyed the warm breeze and the sun.

  Leaning toward her ear, he said, “I’m gonna slow the boat down and drop anchor now.”

  Throttling back to an idle, he waited for the boat engine to
die down, then moved his arms around her and flipped the switch to drop the anchor.

  Moving back to let her shift out from in front of him, he said, “So, turkey club, huh?”

  Nodding, she headed toward the ladder and said, “Yep. Lettuce, tomato, bacon, spicy mustard, no mayo.”

  They both headed down to the main deck, into the cabin’s galley area. Grabbing the food out of the minifridge, along with a couple cans of soda, they headed back up to the sun deck.

  Eating in companionable silence, they went through the sandwiches and pasta salad. Chris leaned back and said, “I could use a nap. That was great. Thank you.”

  Smiling, she said, “You’re welcome. I’m so full now though. Are we going to head right back in or can I lay out on the bow for a while and get some sun?”

  “It’s pretty bright out. You need sunscreen?” Chris asked.

  “No. I have some. Thanks. So we’re gonna hang out here for a bit?”

  “Yeah. I don’t have anything else planned for the day. Do you?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No. I was kind of hoping to get a little sun.”

  They both grabbed some of the mess from lunch and moved downstairs with it. Taking the wrappers and containers back down stairs, they stuck them in the now empty cooler.

  Chloe moved over to her backpack and took out her sunscreen. Peeling off her top and jean shorts, she stuck them on top of the bag. She began rubbing sunscreen on her arms and front.

  Chris was infinitely glad that she was turned away from him because he was having a difficult time looking away. Her hair had come loose from the clip, so she had abandoned it on the couch. Her dark hair fell in soft, messy waves against the lightly tanned skin of her back. Her red bikini bottom rode low on her hips.

  As she leaned over to rub the lotion on her legs, he moved around her to snag his own bag. He could not continue to watch this or he was going to embarrass himself. He stripped off his shirt, then dug around the bag, grabbing sunglasses, a book, his towel, and his sunscreen. Moving out of the cabin, he uncapped it and began spraying himself, trying not to think about how fucking hot Chloe had looked rubbing lotion all over herself.

  Capping the sunscreen, he moved to put his sunglasses on and went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Looking up, he saw Chloe had turned around. Holy shit. Hanging out in the sun was a terrible idea. He was going to have the worst case of blue balls ever known to man.

  Clipping her hair up again, she asked, “Can you sunscreen my back?”

  Reaching for his sunscreen, he said, “Sure.”

  “What SPF is that?”

  “Thirty. Why?”

  “I have SPF sixty with moisturizer. Use this instead,” she said, passing him the tube and presenting him with her back.

  Jesus Christ. She had to be kidding. Certain he was going to die, he took the tube from her and squirted the lotion into his hands. Gently, he proceeded to cover her entire back and hips with it. When she had asked him to get underneath the strap that tied in the back, he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

  She had to be torturing him on purpose. That was the only explanation.

  Once he had finished, she turned around. Taking the sunscreen from him, she said, “Thanks!”

  After she put it back in her bag, she grabbed her sunglasses and towel, then headed out of the cabin.

  He watched her slip off her flip-flops and climb up on the edge of boat. Following suit, he continued to watch her shimmy her way around the side until she was on the bow.

  Stepping over the railing, she laid her towel out, making sure to leave enough room for Chris, then lay down on her stomach. Deciding he had little choice, he laid his towel next to hers and lay down on his back.

  As soon as he had settled, he looked over at her, and saw her untying the back of her top. Without much thought, he said, “Uh, Chloe.”

  Laughing, she said, “Easy there, tiger. I’m not going all French Riviera on you. I just don’t want any tan lines on my back. Your virtue is safe.”

  He narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses and said, “Smart-ass. Don’t think I won’t toss you over the side. Water should be in the high sixties, I think.”

  Turning her head, which had been pointed the other way, to face him, she peered at him over the rims of her sunglasses and said, “That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you.”

  “Not feeling entirely gentlemanly right now.”

  Smirking, she said, “I can see that.”

  A moment later she said, “Sorry, sorry. You’re just so much fun to bait. I’ll leave you in peace now.”

  Sometime later, he realized he must have fallen asleep because he checked his watch and over an hour had passed. Looking over at Chloe, he saw her back was starting to turn a bit pink.

  “Hey. Chloe,” he said.

  Deciding she must be asleep, he gently touched her shoulder and said, “Chloe, wake up. You’re getting a little burnt.”

  Stirring slightly, she said, “I don’t want to move.”

  Reaching back behind her, she said, “Shit. I didn’t think about retying this laying down. Can you retie my top, please?”

  She moved, slightly adjusting the top, as he leaned over her. Grabbing the two strings, he tied them into a bow, then double knotted it for her. He clearly deserved some sort of Medal of Honor. He’d wanted nothing more than to flip her over and cup her bare breasts in his hands.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “We should probably head back in. Sun’s only getting hotter.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. This was nice.”

  Nodding, he said, “Yeah. It was.”

  Chapter 5

  Standing up, she adjusted her swimsuit, then grabbed her towel. She was pretty sure he almost lost it a few times. It would be interesting to see how long she’d have to keep this up before he made a move. She wished she’d have been able to see his eyes when she’d undone her bikini top.

  Grabbing her towel, she shimmied around the side of the boat again, then climbed over the edge. Chris followed her into the cabin, dropping his towel on his bag and grabbing his shirt. Moving past her, he crawled back up to the sun deck.

  She quickly dressed, slid into her shoes and moved back up the ladder with two bottled waters in one hand. Handing one to him, she asked, “Can I drive again?”

  Shrugging, he put his water in the cup holder and said, “Til we get near the harbor, then I’ll take over.”

  He stepped back, letting her take the wheel. He continued to reach around her, flipping the switch to bring the anchor back up. Once that was done, he turned on the boat, fiddled with the throttle and whatever the other lever was.

  As the boat roared to life, he slid his hands over hers, directing her arms and the wheel to point them in the right direction. She noticed that he didn’t change position, even after they were under way. She was enjoying the feel of his arms wrapped around her, his hands touching hers.

  At one point the water got a little rough, so he moved his hand to slow the boat a bit. Instead of putting it back on the wheel, he apparently gave up the pretense and just wrapped it around her middle, pulling her back against him.

  Feeling a small surge of victory, she just leaned her head back against his chest for a brief moment, before moving it back to pay attention to the water in front of her.

  When they approached the harbor, he put both of his hands on the wheel, but didn’t move to allow her to step out from in front of him, so she just continued to lean against him. Reaching down, she grabbed her water and took the cap off, taking a long swig. She moved it back to the cup holder.

  Turning her head slightly to face him, she asked, “Water?”

  Looking down absently for a minute, he said, “Yes. Please.”

  Twisting the top off the other bottle, she handed it to him. He gulped down half the bottle, then handed it back to her. Resting his chin on the top of her head for a moment, he said, “Thanks.”

  She recapped the bottle and
put it back in the cup holder.

  They remained that way, leaning against one another until he guided the boat into the slip. When he removed the keys from the ignition and backed up to let her out, she grinned and said, “I drove a boat. Kind of.”

  Laughing, he said, “Mostly. I just supervised.”

  “I guess you could call that supervision,” she said, smirking at him.

  Moving down the stairs, she walked into the cabin and grabbed the camera out of the bag. Handing it to him, she said, “Just use the arrows. Delete any of you that you hate.”

  He flipped through them, smiling at one point, then said, “None of them are terrible. You can post these on Facebook if you want.”

  Slightly huffy, she said, “I don’t take terrible pictures.”

  Tugging on a strand of hair that had escaped her clip, he said, “Do me a favor and tie off that side of the boat.”

  She slid the camera cord around her wrist, then complied. She tied off both sides, then moved into the cabin to grab the fruit out of the refrigerator. She left the sodas and water, then packed up her towel, sunscreen, and sunglasses. She stuck the camera in the front pocket of her backpack.

  After Chris had tied off his side of the boat and probably double-checked her knots, he came in to pack up his bag, then picked up the cooler. They headed onto the dock and out to the car in silence.

  It was clear that something had shifted between them, but neither of them seemed ready to address it.

  When they reached his house and got out of the car, he finally spoke.

  “That was fun. I’m glad you invited yourself out on my boat today. You should do that more often.”

  He popped the trunk and set the cooler down. Grabbing her backpack, he passed it to her.

  “I’m glad I did too. It was a good time.”

  Shifting her back pack onto her shoulder, she gave him a hug and brushed her lips against his cheek.

  “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

  “You too,” he responded.

  She picked up her cooler, moved to her car, then disengaged the alarm, popping the trunk. After putting the cooler in, she shut the trunk again and opened her car door. Taking a moment to let the hot air waft out, she looked up to see Chris still staring at her with a strange look on his face.