Page 21

Pearl

I should have been exhausted. After a full day of painting and dodging glances from the crew who now definitely knew something was going on between me and Anchor, I should have wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pass out.

But instead, I was standing in the shower with water cascading down my back, bracing my hands on the tiled wall and trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.

Everything had changed so fast.

One day, I was showing up to paint a haunted house, and the next, I was kissing a man who made the ground feel steadier under my feet, even while the world around us felt anything but.

Fast. Yeah, that was the only word for it. But fast didn’t feel wrong.

Fast felt right when it came to him.

I shut off the water, dried off quickly, and tugged on one of his T-shirts that he’d left behind. It smelled like him: wood smoke, leather, and a hint of whatever soap he used that somehow made him smell better than anyone had a right to. I barely made it two steps into the main room before I stopped short.

He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, legs outstretched, with two greasy paper bags set between us.

My brows lifted.

“What is that?”

Anchor looked at me with that lazy, half-smile that always made my knees wobble. “Dinner.”

This didn’t look like anything from the kitchen.

“From where?”

“Mainland.”

“You went to the mainland?” I asked.

“Nah. Sent Wannabe.”

I blinked.

“You sent one of your guys to the mainland… to get fast food?”

He shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Figured you could use something other than coffee and freezer meals.”

A laugh bubbled up out of me as I walked over and dropped to the floor beside him.

“This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He pulled a burger from the bag and handed it to me.

“You need higher standards, doll.”

We ate in silence for a bit, the sounds of the action movie playing on the TV blending with the occasional crunch of a fry or a sip of soda. I didn’t know what movie it was. I didn’t care. Sitting next to him, eating greasy food and brushing shoulders every few bites, it felt easy. Like maybe there was a version of this where everything outside didn’t exist. Where there weren’t bodies washing up or danger lurking on the edges of the island.

When we were done, Anchor stood, gathered all the wrappers and trash, and tossed them in the bin before coming back to where I was curled up on the couch. I watched him turn off the TV and then walk straight toward me.

He held out a hand. “Come on.”

I blinked.

“To bed? Already? You turning into Bernice?”

A low huff came from his chest.

“You comparing me to an eighty-year-old woman?”

I smirked and placed my hand in his.

“If the orthopedic slipper fits…”

His fingers closed around mine and, in one fluid motion, he pulled me to my feet. But instead of walking me to the bed, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me like he hadn’t gotten enough of me yet.

I melted.

His mouth was warm and familiar now but still managed to knock every single thought from my brain. I threaded my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, moaning into the kiss when his hands slid under the hem of his shirt I wore.

By the time we reached the bed, I didn’t care about the time, or the movie, or whether Bernice would hear anything from her cabin. All I cared about was him.

Us.

Here.

Now.

“I just want you close, doll,”

he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“Don’t care if we sleep or not.”

My knees went soft. This man had a way of making me feel treasured and wanted in the same breath.

He guided me backward until the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed. I sat, and he sank to his knees in front of me, his fingers gliding up my thighs slowly, reverently. I sucked in a breath as he pushed the shirt higher and placed a kiss on the inside of my knee.

“You like wearing my clothes?”

he murmured against my skin.

“I wasn’t planning to,”

I whispered, and my voice caught as his mouth worked higher, soft and teasing.

“But now I’m never taking them off.”

His dark eyes lifted to mine.

“We’ll see about that.”

His hands gripped the hem of the shirt and tugged. I raised my arms, and he pulled it over my head and dropped it on the floor. I was bare beneath it, just the way he liked me.

“Fucking hell, Pearl,”

he growled as his eyes drank me in.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My body flushed at his words. My hands moved under his shirt, and my fingers traced the ridges of his abs and up to his chest. He let me pull it off him, and the moment it hit the floor, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Anchor groaned, and his hands threaded into my hair.

“Get up here,”

I whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He climbed onto the bed, and I crawled back, lying down as he moved over me and braced himself on his elbows. Our lips met in a slow, needy kiss. His tongue swept into my mouth, tasting and taking as his body settled over mine, hot and heavy and perfect.

“I want to go slow,”

he murmured against my lips.

“Wanna feel every inch of you.”

My whole body shivered.

He kissed down my neck, across my collarbone, and down the slope of my breast. His mouth closed around one nipple while his hand teased the other. I arched into him, and my legs parted to invite him closer.

“Anchor…”

I breathed as my hands fisted in the sheets.

“Tell me what you want, doll,”

he rasped and kissed lower.

“You. All of you.”

He groaned like he was in pain. His mouth found my belly and trailed heat down until he reached the apex of my thighs. He kissed me there, as his fingers spread me open.

“So wet,”

he growled.

“All for me.”

His mouth closed over my clit, and I cried out as my back arched. He worked me slow and deep with his tongue. He drove me to the edge as his fingers gripped my hips and I writhed beneath him.

I came hard. My thighs shaking around his head, and my fingers twisted in the sheets. He didn’t stop until I was trembling and breathless. Until I had to tug him up by the shoulders and kiss him with everything I had.

“Your turn,”

I whispered against his lips as I reached between us.

He was already hard, thick and hot in my hand. I stroked him slowly and loved the way his jaw clenched and a low groan rumbled in his chest.

“You still want this?”

he asked, voice rough.

I wrapped my legs around his hips.

“Yes. I want you.”

He slid inside me in one slow, perfect thrust.

My breath caught. He filled me so completely I could barely think. He paused, giving me a moment, and his forehead rested against mine.

“Jesus, Pearl,”

he rasped.

“You feel like heaven.”

I kissed him and moaned into his mouth as he started to move. Deep, smooth strokes that had me clinging to him, and gasping his name. He rocked into me over and over, and each time felt better than the last.

We moved together, lost in each other, the world narrowed to just our bodies and the sounds we made: moans, whispers, desperate kisses.

“I’m close,”

I whispered as my nails dug into his shoulders.

He reached between us, rubbed my clit in tight circles, and that was it. I shattered beneath him, crying out his name as he kept thrusting through my orgasm. A moment later, he followed with a deep groan, my name on his lips as he buried himself deep and let go.

He collapsed over me, careful not to crush me, and I wrapped my arms around him to hold him close.

We stayed that way, tangled and panting, until our breaths slowed and the room settled around us.

Anchor lifted his head and kissed me softly.

“That should hold me for a little while.”

I smiled, lips brushing his.

“Just a little?”

He chuckled and pulled me tighter.

“Yeah, doll. Just a little.”