Twila's Tempest Read online

  “You should,” she said, glancing away.

  “I’m going to change, and then we’re spending the day on the Rebecca.” She stared up at him with those incredible eyes. Features with delicate soft edges made his heart race faster. He thumbed away the tear poised on her cheekbone before it slid down her smooth skin.

  Confusion and grief radiated on her features. “Drake, Heather is just one of many. I couldn’t let her rip me a good one and take it, but I don’t want to be in that position again.”

  It had been a week since they’d had their private time in Freeport. She hadn’t stopped since. He wanted her to take a breath before she paddled any farther down the river she was angling toward. “Your name is on my chest for a reason and mine is on your backside for the same one, sweetheart.”

  They both heard his mother slap her cheeks. “Oye! Drake Duncan Addison, how could you let her do that?” his mother shouted.

  Twila’s hand covered her mouth, and he bit down hard on a laugh he couldn’t smother. They shared a look as if they were both in deep shit, but it was funny as hell. His mom saw his new tat, but he hadn’t mentioned Twila’s.

  His mom whipped around and glared at his dad. “Say something!”

  Dad’s face was a sheet of neutral until he burst out laughing himself. “What do you want her to do, wash it off, Mother?”

  Mom buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “Drake, I’m ashamed of you. She’s marked for life.”

  “That makes two of us,” he said, brushing a tangle of silky hair across Twila’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling about sixteen right now.”

  Twila snorted. “Same.”

  His mother marched up to them. “If you were, I’d ground you both. Foolish. Reckless.” Her gaze bounced back and forth three times and then settled a searing look on Twila. “I want at least four grandchildren.”

  “Whoa.” Now it was Twila who jumped back.

  “Quick, this way,” he said, laughing and yanking Twila after him.

  The drill sergeant rose from the trenches determined with the possibility of grandchildren. “Come back here,” his mother shouted. “I’m not finished yelling at you, Drake.”

  “I’ve got clothes on the boat, hurry.” He held the door open, and Twila ran past him full tilt. About to slam the door for their quick escape, he thought better of it, and stuck his head in. “See ya in a couple days. I need to inspect her tat a little closer.” He slammed the door as a pillow sailed across the living room.

  * * * *

  Drake appeared over the side of the command bridge. “Okay, sweetheart, let her go.”

  She waved at him and undid the lines, tossing them onto the vessel. She quickly hopped up the steps and jumped aboard.

  “Get up here, I need you in my arms,” he yelled out.

  She climbed the ladder and joined him.

  “Take her out,” he said.

  “Me? I can’t do that.”

  “I know you can.”

  She positioned herself in front of him and grabbed the wheel with one hand and the throttles with the other. With his hand over hers, he guided her, explaining the tide was at slack water which meant there was no pull on the draught of the vessel. Using the powerful diesels and advanced steerage system he’d built into the craft, the Rebecca almost turned on a dime.

  Once they were clear of the berth, they both kept their eyes open for crossing traffic. “Nice departure, Twila.”

  She cranked her head around and his mouth was on hers for a long, knee quivering kiss. “You’re a good teacher,” she said when he finally let her breathe.

  “Ya have to know your ship and expect the unexpected. Read the conditions and you’ll avoid problems.”

  She nodded and gave him a silly salute.

  He laughed and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve always wanted to sail around the world. I did enough sea time in the Marines, but it’s different.”

  “Would you take the Rebecca?”

  “Maybe.” He looked toward the horizon and a thoughtful expression came to rest on his face. “Would you come with me?”

  Her heart pumped with heavy beats of hope. “I—I think you’d have to teach me a little more before that happened.”

  His gaze fell on her. “That I can do.” He rubbed his nose in her hair. “Aye, lass, that I can do,” he said with a teasing Scottish accent. Nodding to himself as if he’d made his mind up about something, he stared off into the distance.

  Once they’d reached open water, Drake switched on the auto pilot and turned her to face him.

  He took a deep breath and said, “I love being with you, Twila. Every second we have, I’m going to remember it. You nearly broke my heart seeing tears in your eyes this morning. I know it’s not reality, but I don’t want you to ever be unhappy.”

  She balanced on her tiptoes, and he grinned when she crooked her finger at him. “Thank you for making me smile again.” He embraced her, and executed the perfect kiss. One she returned with all her heart.

  Anchored in a bay an hour down the coast Twila lay on a deck chair in her swimsuit. The early October sun warmed her, but didn’t sizzle her skin. Settling in Florida as a girl, she’d come to love the panhandle more with every passing year. The balmy breeze and how lucky she was to have a man like Drake, washed away the drama of the morning.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” Drake said, handing her a beer and crouching beside her.

  “About what?” She shuffled to a sitting position.

  “Think if I laid you on the bow of a vessel, I’d never be able to keep up with sales.”

  The steamy look in his eyes trailing across her breasts instantly produced an ache in her core. He drew the beer from her hand and placed it on the deck without breaking his gaze.

  “Then again, think I’d kill any man who put his eyes on you.”

  “Drake?” They’d already had too many beers, at least she had and was feeling exceptionally wicked. No other vessels dotted the bay, but Drake took a second look around.

  * * * *

  “I want to check your tat. Turn around.” He placed a teasing slow kiss just below her navel before he helped her turn.

  “Is it okay?” she asked as he peeled off the dressing.

  He brushed his thumb gently across the tat. It was healing nicely. “It’s beautiful.”

  He rested his chin on her shoulder and cuddled her against his chest. “Why did you ink my name?” He hadn’t expected her to do it.

  Twila pulled her knees to her chest. “It doesn’t matter what happens tomorrow, Drake. We have now.” She rested her chin on her knee. “I say that because I know Heather isn’t going to give up.” Turning, she looped her arms around his neck. “She’ll be waiting for you when you go home.”

  He’d been wondering the same thing. What would he do when he returned to the Keys and Heather burst through his front door, turning a failed affair into a fatal attraction? Heather would never do anything violent, but Twila was probably right. She shivered, and he pulled her into his arms.

  Her gentle gaze warmed every corner of him as he walked into the back cabin with her in tow. He stopped, then palmed her ass, her soft body nestled against his, and he kissed her again. “I swore the only woman who would sleep in my bed would be special.”

  “You really want me to believe that?” she said, offering a leery eye.

  “It’s the truth,” he said solemnly. “There’s no doubt in my heart, Twila. You’re the woman who belongs here.” Lifting her into his arms and taking the five stairs with careful steps toward his stateroom, his gaze never parted from hers.

  Barely contained lust had him vibrating when he laid her on his bed.

  His fingers slid down the sway of her sides and hooked into the bottom of her suit. “You make me crazy.” Twila’s lids closed and a small sigh escaped her lips when he circled her breast and fluttered his tongue across the tip. Within heart pumping seconds, he was half insane trying to kiss every part of her, end
ing with a little lick across the tip of her enflamed nipple.

  A small gust of air escaped her as her gaze met his. With a slow deliberate roll of his tongue he drew her nipple in and sucked the plump flesh between his lips. Raising his head, he stared into syrup colored eyes rimmed with dark lashes. “We’re past friends, Twila. Past lovers.” His gaze slid down her body and over the edge of sanity. “I want you more and more. I could never look into another woman’s eyes before. I didn’t want them to see it was only the act I cared about, but I want to see into your soul, and I want you to see mine.”

  Twila slid her palms across his shoulders. Her lips parted, and her eyes slowly rose to his. In that instant, he was so fucking turned on by just her gaze, his body blazed.

  “Drake, I’m lying here naked in your arms, but you’re not.”

  He leaped to his feet and released his straining shaft. Together, without any barriers, a deep carnal need to possess her triggered an all-consuming love. He wanted to always be there to protect her. To be the one and only man she could trust to never hurt her. Leaning forward, he kissed each of her knees and slid his fingers between them. A feather light brush of his lips marked each inner thigh. An uneven rhythm beat in his heart as he swirled a slow lick around her firm pearl. Nerves and passion mixed a cocktail of desire and she made the sweetest sound of pleasure. With his thumb, he circled the opening of her channel and kissed her bundle of nerves. Her skin shivered and her hips swayed with his touch.

  Sensitive to her movements, he kissed his way up her stomach and to her lips when she prodded him. He swayed back, grabbing his inflamed cock and stroked a sensual trail around her channel. Her little moans made him smile. There was something so fucking sexy about touching the end of his swollen head to her sex. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

  “Twila, the second I’m inside you, I’m going to come undone.” With a long lap against the crease of her sex, her head pressed into the pillow and the dreams he’d seen so many times in his mind came true. He seized her hips and circled her beautiful fleshy tip with his mouth. Rising he said, “I need to be inside you.” She swayed her hips drawing him closer. Palming her cheeks, he looked into her beautiful eyes. “When I’m inside you, I feel like you’re all mine.”

  She lifted her head laying gentle kisses on his lips. His heart hitched in his chest for a couple of reasons until she said quietly, “From the first time I saw your picture, I think I loved you.”

  “Oh shit.” He groaned, and his body trembled wanting to feel her hot, wet core around his cock. He entered her with loving, gentle strokes and the sensual blistering rhythm of her body stole his control.

  “Drake.”

  Her body arched, her inner muscles clenched tight, and she set him off just watching her come apart. “God, yes!” Together. Always together.

  He’d never felt more in tune with a woman. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and his body jerked when she wiggled her hips. It felt wicked good. His hands swept to her face and brushed back her hair. An army of emotions grew inside him, and he surrendered to them.

  She bit her lip. “You think we’re addicted?”

  “To each other, we are.” He grinned, taking her lip from her and teasing it between his own. His pulse literally thundered through his veins. He watched her eyes trace across the walls and the inside of his stateroom.

  “You’re an amazing man,” she said softly. “I wanted to tell you that the last time I was in here, but I chickened out.”

  “Not according to Heather, apparently I’m a manwhore—” she promptly placed a finger over his lips to quiet him.

  “Maybe with her. Maybe with other women, but not with me. That’s what I saw in your soul, for now.”

  He nuzzled her cheek and held her close to his heart, listening to the steady beat. That was the second time she’d said that to him, and he realized it was the motto she lived by. She wasn’t putting any faith in tomorrow, just today. He rolled to face her so she would be looking in his eyes when he said, “Semper fidelis.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “It’s a quote the Marine Corps stands by. I’m no longer a Marine but it still applies, especially for you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next two weeks ran together like a blur.

  “Honey, the guest of honor’s table goes over there,” Becka ordered.

  “Sure, Mom.” He picked up one end of the table and squared a look at his dad.

  “She won’t be happy with it in five minutes. Let’s just wait,” his dad said sitting on the table instead of picking it up.

  He joined him and his mom twisted a perturbed look at them. Shrugging, he gave a quick jerk of his thumb at his dad, blaming him. Twila entered the hall with a gaggle of woman. She had an arm around Mrs. Duncan who had to be ninety-six years old. She still had a bright mind but her body was giving out on her.

  “So glad to see you ladies,” his mom chirped and waved them over.

  Twila saw him and gave a quick smile. His mom didn’t miss it and gave him a two brow raise and allowed a cheek busting grin before tuning into the drill sergeant again.

  Two hours later, he ventured into the kitchen. On her hands and knees, Twila had almost finished washing the floor. She worked around the feet of five old ladies who stepped around her. Kneeling down beside her, he said, “Time for a break, isn’t it? Even an employer allows fifteen minutes every couple hours.”

  She stopped scrubbing and sat back on her haunches. “I’m just about done here.”

  “You’re done now,” he said, taking the rag from her and tossing it into the bucket of dirty water. Pulling her to her feet, he tucked her up to his chest. All talking ceased. It reminded him of a hen house going dead silent when the fox appeared, and all eyes turned their way. “Let’s go outside for a second.”

  He pulled her behind him, pushing open one of five doors that led to the resident’s pool. Revealing a bottle of coke, he sat it down in front of her and unscrewed the top.

  “Thanks.” She downed half of it.

  He chuckled. “Thirsty?”

  “Little.”

  “So, my darlings,” his mother interrupted.

  “Just a quick drink and I’ll be back in a second, Becka.”

  “No rush, honey.”

  His mom looked pretty proud of herself these days. At home she tried to pry every minute they spent with each other out of him. Of course he left the more private parts out, but she’d already put the puzzle together.

  Mrs. Bannon stuck her practically blue head of hair out the door. “Twila, Mrs. Duncan needs to go home and rest. I think she’s pushed it a little too much, would you mind? You can take the golf cart parked out front. I don’t think she should walk home.”

  “Sure. Thanks for the drink,” she said, then took another swallow and got to her feet.

  He grabbed her hand and she offered a sweet smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  When he didn’t let go, she gave him a set of pursed lips. “Right here,” he said, touching his own lips. When she hedged, he yanked her onto his lap and lifted a teasing brow. She leaned forward and brushed his cheek. He laughed at her antics and dug his fingers into her hair and dove for what he wanted—a long lingering hot kiss. “Now, I can wait,” he said.

  Twila jogged off and his mother took her seat, sliding the coke out of her way. “I’m so happy for you two.”

  He finally put his attention on his mother after watching Twila’s pert little ass disappear through the door. “Happy? Huh?”

  His mom reached a hand across the table and grasped his. “She’s wonderful, don’t you think?”

  He locked gazes with his mom. They shared the same eyes, but hers only had so many years left. He hoped it was another thirty. “I do.”

  “You’re leaving in a week,” she said with concern.

  He hadn’t really spent time lingering on the thought, although it had reared its ugly head a few times. “I stayed two weeks more than I intended. I’v
e got to get back.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me Twila is just one of your conquests.”

  Sighing, he leaned back in the chair. “My business is five hours away and my days are fourteen hours long. It’s not fair to either of us.” His mother’s accusing stare worked to cement the guilt he was already feeling.

  “So, what? You’re telling me you’re just going to let Twila wait for five months before she sees you again.”

  “Listen, old girl. I love you and Dad to pieces, but you have got to butt out of my love life. Twila needs to figure out her future.” He pointed a finger at his mother. “And it isn’t listening to your woes for the next twenty years. I want her to start a business. I’ll even back it with the funds. Whatever she needs.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, son,” her voice becoming lower and more dangerous. “What about the part where you’ve fallen in love with her?”

  His mouth gaped open. “I—”

  “Give me a break.” She spit the words like flames from a dragon's mouth. “Are you about to lie to your mother?”

  Thankfully Dad sauntered up. “Think your mother has finally decided where the table goes? Or should I wait some more?” he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

  “Our son is in love and not willing to admit it,” she said, ending with a huff.

  “Course he’s in love. He looks like a dog with a wounded paw when he’s not on his way to get Twila, but let him figure that out, woman.”

  “What the hell, Dad! Whose side are you on?” Putting up an auto response of denial would keep his mother from sending out wedding invitations, but they had him pegged.

  “Yours, son, but your mother is driving me nuts, and I have to live with her, you don’t. She wants grandbabies and your brother isn’t anywhere close to leaving the Marines or settling down. You’re giving her signs of hope, so she’s hanging it on you.”

  “Mom—seriously, we just met. Give us some time.”

  “What’s wrong with wanting grandchildren?” she argued. “A mother does know things, and Twila’s the one.”

  “You want her to be the one since she’s so patient with you and listens to you bellyache about the natural process of aging,” he teased.