Page 43 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)
We didn’t have time to get lost in the moment or each other once Brandon started getting fussy and grumpy.
“I’m going to take advantage of your lovely guest room and put him down for a nap. He’s teething again, so he needs some juice and a snooze, and then he should be back to his happy self again,” I said.
“Sounds great. Do you need any food or anything?”
“I’m good. I’ll get him down and meet you on deck once he’s out.”
It took nearly twenty minutes before Brandon was knocked out, the rocking of the boat working better than any rocking chair. What I expected to be a short nap could easily turn into an hour or more.
I went up to meet Jace, loving how the boat sailed so smoothly and steadily, with the wind filling the mainsail like the boat was alive. It cut through the water effortlessly, and Jace engaged the autopilot now that we were past the traffic near the cove.
“Did you get him to go out?” Jace questioned with a flirty grin.
“The boat had a hand in it,” I chuckled, happily welcoming his advance when he walked up to me and brought me into a warm hug.
“Good. Now, I have better plans, which I’ve had in mind for you since I arranged this sailing trip.”
“Oh?” I arched a knowing eyebrow at him. “What if Brandon interrupts your efforts this time? I mean, you’re asking for a lot by trying to date a single mom with a one-year-old and a dog that hates you,” I teased.
“If Brandon wakes up, and I can’t take your ass like I’ve wanted to since our first night together, then all of this buildup will add to the explosion of when I finally get the chance,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Follow me, gorgeous.”
I followed Jace down the companionway, the faint scent of salt and teakwood surrounding me. The cabin light of the room was warm, and it filtered through the skylight above, casting a soft gold across the linens on the bed.
Jace turned to face me, one hand braced above the doorway, his eyes locked on mine like he was waiting for permission, or for me to make the first move.
I didn’t even remember crossing the small space.
One second, I was watching him breathe, then I used my hand to grip his hoodie and pull him in closer to me.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” I breathlessly whispered.
Jace leaned in, brushing his lips against mine like the answer didn’t matter. “That’s my girl,” he said, using his strong arms to pull me into his firm chest.
His mouth found mine again, hotter and hungrier than I remembered his kiss being.
My breath hitched as his hands slid along my waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my tank top.
The boat swayed beneath us, a rhythmic, steady push and pull that made everything feel more alive, like the ocean was part of our reunion.
I let Jace guide me toward the bed tucked beneath the forward hatch, hearing the wood floor creaking softly beneath our feet.
He laid me back carefully like I might break, but his body told a different story.
He lingered over me while his lips ran a fiery hot trail down my throat, using his steady fingers to unfasten the button of my shorts with maddening precision.
Every sound was amplified: the wind, the boat’s sails, and our breathing.
I softly moaned when Jace’s lips moved over the top of my tank, his teeth gently grabbing my hardening nipples.
He moved with restraint at first, almost as if he didn’t want to rush this.
It’s when I moaned softly again that his restraint ended.
His hands slid down my thighs, then back up, pushing fabric aside like all he wanted was to feel my scorching hot skin.
He pressed his body firmly into mine, a jolt of raw energy tearing through me, reminding me that this man never held back when it came to taking me.
He was aggressive, dominant, and deliberate—and I needed every bit of that right now.
We moved together like muscle memory, as if our bodies still remembered the way we’d lost ourselves in each other all night long.
My hands fumbled at the button of his shorts, finding him already hard and slick in my grip, pulsing with the need to bury himself inside me.
“Fuck yes,” he growled, his voice rough against my ear. “I could come just from your hand, gorgeous.”
In the next breath, my shorts were gone, stripped away in his frenzy, and then his thick length was pushing into me as he yanked my shirt over my head.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve missed this,” he groaned, driving deeper, precise and hungry.
My body welcomed him, clutching tight around every deliberate thrust, my climax threatening to spiral before I could stop it.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, pounding harder, his mouth sealing over mine as if we could devour each other’s need.
My legs fell open, giving him everything. The room blurred, my body on fire, and for a second it felt less like sex and more like satisfying an addiction we both couldn’t deny.
“You have to tell me if you’re close—we don’t have a condom,” I gasped, the last flicker of control before desire drowned it out.
“Yeah,” he gritted, his pace relentless, my orgasm rising sharp and hot.
“I want to taste you,” I whispered, feral with want.
That broke him. My body shattered around him, clenching hard, forcing him deeper until he pulled free with a curse. In an instant, his cock was at my lips, thick and urgent, and I took him down with greedy abandon.
I gripped his tight ass, feeling the tremor in his muscles as he gave in, spilling hot and heavy into my mouth. I swallowed him, eyes open, watching his roll back as he groaned through the last pulses of release, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, pulling back slowly, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. “You’re so goddamn hot.”
We collapsed together, breathless, ready to sink into the afterglow we’d both craved for too long—until Brandon’s perfectly timed cry shattered the silence, leaving us no choice but to laugh.
“Let me go get your new best bud,” I sighed.
“You stay here and take your time,” he said, giving me a simple kiss to my throat before pushing up from the bed.
I used the moment to take in his rock-hard body. The guy must’ve lifted at least twice daily after his morning runs. He was simply just gorgeous and beyond what I could ever desire in a man.
As much as I would’ve loved to stay here lost in lustful thoughts of the man, I couldn’t.
I needed to clear my head and get back into mom-mode, so I was grateful Jace and Brandon had bonded earlier enough so that Jace could grab him and meet me up on deck while we both let the salty ocean breezes cool off the heat we’d stirred up from our quickie.
By the time I climbed onto the deck, Jace already had Brandon scooped in one arm, holding him with that easy, natural confidence I wasn’t used to seeing in men who weren’t the child’s father.
He had Brandon perched on his hip like he’d done it a thousand times, and then there was my son, beaming in Jace’s arms as if it was the only place he wanted to be.
“Captain Brandon,” Jace said with mock seriousness, pointing to the polished teak wheel. “Are you ready to take command?”
I laughed at the silliness of it all, watching from where I sat on the cushioned bench near the stern. Beyond the humor of it all, my heart swelled at Brandon’s excited reaction, clapping his hands with all the joy of a one-year-old about to inherit the family business.
Jace helped him grip the wheel, guiding his tiny hands across the leather-wrapped rim. Brandon made a high-pitched sound that was half squeal, and half roar, like he was sailing into battle and loving every second of it.
Jace glanced at me over his shoulder, his smile crooked, his voice soft but sure. “He’s a natural.”
“Clearly. Must be genetic,” I teased, leaning back on my palms. “All the charm, none of the formal training.”
He laughed and kissed the top of Brandon’s head, and the sight of this strong, complicated man so effortlessly letting my son into his world did something sharp and gentle to my chest. For a moment, it was just the three of us—the wind in the sails and the morning sun on our skin.
It was all so beautiful and yet also a bit terrifying because even though it was perfect, I had a nagging fear that it could be gone as quickly as it had manifested.
I didn’t know how to quiet these emotions, which seemed to haunt me whenever I was happy and comfortable, but I would try my damn hardest to ignore them.