Page 19

Lara

I know we shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t be here, but one thing led to another…

And now I’m on Lark’s yacht. Alone with him. The deck beneath my feet sways gently to the rhythm of the waves. Salt air fills my lungs, the sun shine warms my skin, and the breeze feels like heaven. It's just the ocean, the sky, me, and Lark.

“It’s a perfect day for sailing,” Lark says, his voice breaking through the sound of seagulls.

“I couldn't agree more.” I smile in his general direction, squinting against the glare off the water. As far as I can see, shades of blue and sparkling white stretch on to the horizon.

He grins. He’s the captain of this vessel and a master of making my heart beat far too fast. I know Win is safe at his mother’s house, but I’m not used to being without my son at home. It’s different when I work and come home to him, but this… I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t face the emptiness or Damon’s silence.

While my brother is happy that Win gets time with his father and grandmother, I sense that he misses when it was just us and all the quality time he’s spent with his nephew. I understand the feeling. Sharing my son won’t be easy, but it’s what’s best for him.

“Uh-oh, you’re looking too serious again,” Lark says, and I glance at him. His white shirt flutters in the ocean breeze and sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing those mouthwatering tanned forearms. The way the sunlight plays on the sharp angles of his face is breathtaking. Handsome doesn’t even begin to describe him; the guy is a damn God.

“Just thinking,” I say.

“Well, stop it. You’re out here to get away and have fun. Care for a tour?” he asks, motioning around the yacht with a sweep of his hand.

I nod my head. “Lead the way.”

Lark grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of pride. I find myself wondering who he can trust and brag to about his accomplishments. With a mental note to ask later, I exhale.

He takes my hand, and we start our tour. The yacht is even more impressive than I expected, with sleek lines and polished wood that gleams in the sunlight.

“This is the main deck,” Lark says, gesturing to the spacious area around us. “Perfect for lounging and soaking up the sun.”

I can already imagine myself sprawled out on one of the plush white loungers, a book in hand and the gentle sway of the yacht beneath me. But Lark is already moving on, leading me down a set of stairs to the lower deck.

“Here’s the dining area,” he says, pointing to a long table surrounded by comfortable chairs. “I did have a plan for eating tonight, if you’d like.”

I nod, already looking forward to the evening. The thought of a candlelit dinner on the water with Lark sounds perfect. It shouldn’t. I should be putting on the brakes, but I’m starting to worry that’s not an option anymore. My heart doesn’t want that, and even my head knows it’s a bad idea… and wants it anyway.

Lark continues the tour, showing me the cozy cabins, the state-of-the-art kitchen, and even a small library filled with books. Finally, we reach the upper deck, where a hot tub bubbles invitingly.

“And this,” Lark says with a grand gesture of throwing his arms wide, “is my favorite spot.”

I can see why. The view from up here is breathtaking, with the endless expanse of the ocean stretching out before us. I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace wash over me.

“This is amazing,” I say, turning to Lark. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He smiles, his expression softening. “I’m glad you like it. Now, how about we take a dip in the hot tub?”

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Sounds perfect.”

Hand in hand, we make our way to the hot tub. Lark removes his shirt and pants, revealing his swim trunks and I pull off the cute deck dress that’s hiding my suit. I catch him glancing at me with an appreciative look that has me feeling warm and wanted all at once.

Lark steps into the hot tub first, the steam rising around him as he settles into the warm water. I follow, feeling the tension in my muscles melt away as I sink into the bubbling water.

“This is heaven.” I sigh, leaning back and closing my eyes.

Lark chuckles. “I knew you’d like it. It’s the perfect way to unwind.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht and the soft hum of the hot tub. I open my eyes and glance at Lark, who is gazing out at the horizon with a thoughtful expression.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, curious.

He turns to me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just how lucky I am to be here with you.”

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks and look away, the warmth of the hot tub suddenly matched by the heat in my chest and core. “I’m the lucky one,” I say.

Lark reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re both lucky, then.”

We stay like that for a while, holding hands and enjoying the peaceful moment. Eventually, the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the water. The breathtaking view leaves me feeling comfortable and happy with a sense of awe rising within me. Today has been amazing, and I’m grateful to Lark for making what would have been a very rough transition easier.

As we part ways for a while, I make my way to the main deck and perch on the edge of a plush sun lounger, my legs dangling off the side. The yacht bobs gently, lulling me into a tranquil state, but my heart strings tug with an ache that's both sweet and sour. I miss him—my little boy with his too-big laugh and boundless energy. Yet here, with Lark, excitement bubbles through my veins.

“Thirsty?” Lark appears with two bottles of water, offering one to me, and I can’t help but smile. How did he know?

I nod, unable to speak in the moment because the pain of missing my son and my gratefulness for a drink and this time together are intent on choking me. He hands me a bottle of water, condensation beading on the glass like morning dew.

“Thanks,” I say, popping the cap and taking a generous sip. It's chilled, combatting the heat of the sun and my body in a way that’s refreshing and cooling.

He settles next to me, close enough to touch if either one of us moves. And when his forearm brushes my leg, tingling heat explodes through me. His leg presses against mine, firm and unyielding, and it's as if he's holding me in place with nothing more than the excitement of his touch and this closeness. My heart slams and I glance at him, stunned by the depths of this need I feel for him.

“Good?” he asks, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about the yacht, the water, or his touch, but all three are good. Very good.

“Very,” I whisper. And I'm not just talking about the drink. My fingers tighten around the bottle, the coolness of the glass seeping into my palm.

“Are you enjoying the view?” he asks, a hint of humor in his voice, and I know he’s not just asking about the ocean.

“I can't complain.” My gaze shifts to his profile—sharp, handsome, every bit the bad boy millionaire who once captured my heart and never quite returned it. Not that I’d ever admit that to him, of course. I struggle to admit it to myself.

I set my glass down with a click against the deck, drawing in a deep breath to steady the sudden heat flooding my system. I'm playing with fire, toeing the line between what I want and what I should do. But oh, how tempting it is to just let go and let him in again. The pleasure he promises, the pleasure I know he’ll bring me… it’s so tempting. Too tempting.

As if reading my thoughts – or sharing them - Lark leans in, his body demanding mine get closer. His breath warms my ear as he whispers, “I want you.” The words, soft as they are, echo around my brain louder than a shout. His scent—salt, pine, and masculinity—fills my nostrils, intoxicates my senses.

“Here?” I whisper, unsure as I glance around. The ocean stretches as far as the eye can see and there are no other boats within eyesight. But still…

“Here,” he says, his gaze intense and making my heart and body do strange things. I’m heating up and trembling, too hot and too cold all at once, and desperate to do what he’s asking.

Still, if I was smart, I’d remind him and myself that we’re supposed to leave the past behind us and move forward. We’re in business together, work together, and I’m his boss. Sleeping with him would be a very stupid move.

But maybe I’m stupid, because I want nothing more than to say yes.

My gaze drops to his lips, full, inviting—silently begging him to kiss me. He understands, he always has. His mouth claims mine, a kiss that tastes like the past, like mistakes, like the most thrilling moments of my life.

This is a mistake, but I’m going to enjoy making it.

The yacht rocks gently beneath us, and there's no hesitation as his hands strip off my clothing. I tuck my thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and work them down, revealing every glorious inch of him ready for me.

I lean in, tasting the tip of him and he lets out a sharp growl, pushing me back and pinning me to the plush lounger.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmurs against my neck, his breath hot and exciting. I arch into him, wanting more, needing all of him.

“That was kind of the plan,” I whisper, gazing up at him.

He trails kisses down my body, setting every inch of me on fire until I’m squirming, desperate for more. I arch into his touch, a primal need driving me to meet his every move. His touch consumes any rational thought or lingering doubts, and I’m just hungry for him. All of him.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispers against my ear, his voice husky with desire.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” I say.

He doesn't hold back, his hands roaming over my body with a hunger that matches my own and I tilt my hips, ready to take him as I feel the hot tip of him brush my inner thigh. I want him to stop teasing me and to actually fill me up. I’ve been waiting years for this to happen again, and he’s going so slow it’s almost frustrating.

“Please,” I whimper.

He seems to take pity on me and I feel him press against my entrance. I exhale as he gently pushes in a fraction of an inch, his expression intense as he works himself into me bit by bit.

I grip the side of the lounger, my fingers digging into the upholstery as he continues to enter me. It feels like a dream, like I’m finally where I belong. He slows his pace, his eyes locked on mine as he looks for a response.

“You feel so good,” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the yacht.

“So do you,” he growls, his teeth scraping the side of my neck.

I pant, feeling the exquisite pleasure and pain of his slow, deliberate entry. Every inch of him pushes in, then pulls back a little bit, then pushes in again, like he has to work his way inside me and it’s intense and delicious all at once. I can barely breathe, and when he's finally fully inside me, I let out a gasp.

He raises himself up, hovering over me, his gaze locked on mine. “Did I hurt you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“This is crazy,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Maybe. But it's what I want,” I reply, my voice shaky.

His lips crash down on mine. As the thrust of his tongue matches the movements of his body, my heart feels ready to explode. I can feel myself stretching around him, feel him demanding I yield to him, and the pressure inside promises pleasure like I’ve never experienced before…. even with him. Talk about an impossibly high bar to set. His movements become more urgent, more frantic, and his hunger only heats me up more. I grab his shoulders, my fingertips digging in as I tuck my ankles behind his thighs as if to keep him from leaving.

He pushes in deep, his breath ragged as our bodies come together completely. The pleasure builds, unbearable yet extraordinary. I'm lost in the passion, the raw emotions we're sharing.

His lips move to my neck, his breath hot and eager. “I want you so much,” he groans, his hips never stopping.

I moan, lost in the sensations. I'm flying higher and higher, the pleasure building until I can't stand it anymore. “I need you to... I need more,” I don’t know what I need, but I want to feel the pleasure crash over me.

He seems to understand. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper. I arch into him, grasping for more. My breath catches in my throat as I near the edge. I'm close, so close... Only one more touch away.

I gasp as he thrusts into me, his pace desperate. This feeling, it's overwhelming. I'm lost in the heat of the moment, in the way our bodies fit together so perfectly. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, wanting him in me as deep as possible.

His thrusts become harder, faster, and I can feel the edge of orgasm nearing. I arch my back, matching his movements, and he groans, his eyes closing as he loses himself in the moment. His body pins mine, holding me close as he speeds up.

“I'm close,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water and our ragged breathing.

“I need this,” he growls, his eyes opening to find mine again. “I need you.”

I moan softly, feeling the pleasure building within me

His eyes, locked on mine, tell me he knows just what I need. He pushes me over that edge with a final, deep thrust, and the world comes crashing down around us. The pleasure explodes, shattering every expectation I've ever had.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he groans.

I want to say that I’ve missed it, too, but the pleasure tearing through my core and rippling through me leave me voiceless.

“You’re still so perfect,” he says. I feel his body agree as he grows even harder somehow and explodes within me.

Sated, we collapse into each other, our breaths mingling. He traces my eyebrow with a fingertip, trailing it along my temple, down the side of my face in front of my ear and curving to the point of my chin. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose.

“You are, too,” I say, feeling my heart begin to slow to a more normal pace. As we lay entwined, his fingertips trace my back, my spine, every inch of me that he can reach and he speaks, his voice low and possessive.

“You're mine,” he says.

A laugh escapes me, breathless and light as I lift my head to look at him. “I've always been yours,” I say, my eyes locked with his. “After you, no one else stood a chance.”

He smiles, a wicked curve of the lips that promises sin. That sounds good to me. His hands explore me and I lose myself in the sensation. His hands are everywhere, tracing skin they’ve touched before, yet it feels new, it feels right. The way he whispers my name… it sends a shiver down my spine and tightens my nipples to hard pebbles. He has an effect on my body that I can’t deny… and I’m tired of trying.

But how can we make this work? Doubt creeps in, chased away – for the moment - by his words.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, rolling onto his back and bringing me with him so I’m straddling his hips. He’s already hard and ready to go again.

“More than anything,” I whisper, telling him the truth.

His smile as I rise up and slide down every inch of him leaves me breathless.

The rhythm we find is urgent, a quick movement that promises a quick orgasm. His hands claim my hips as he moves with a precision that sets every nerve ending alight, drawing out the pleasure until it's almost too much to bear. With each whispered word from his lips, I'm falling deeper.

“God, you're incredible,” he groans, admiration mingling with desire in his tone.

My body responds to his every move, and he’s quick to draw the pleasure out of me. And as my body clamps down tight around him, the pleasure exploding through me and leaving bright dots of white in my vision, I bite down on my lower lip to keep from crying out.

“Don’t do that,” he says, and I open my eyes to look at him. “Don’t hold back.” His thumb traces my lower lip and I let go and give into the incredible sensations screaming through my body.

A frightening thought tugs at the edges of my mind—I am in trouble, because this isn't just about desire anymore. I’m falling for this man, and that’s not safe or sane. What am I going to do about it?

“Are you hungry?” Lark asks, breaking the silence once our breathing has returned to normal and our hearts are beating in unison. I love being curled into him, and the past doesn’t hold a candle to what I feel and felt today in his arms.

I nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. “Definitely.”

Lark rises and I regretfully let him go. But he returns a few moments later with a platter of fruits, meats, cheeses and crackers, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a wine opener. Placing the platter on the lounger, he stretches out on the other side of them, his eyes tracing my face.

I reach for the grapes, plucking them from their stems and popping them into my mouth. They're sweet, bursting with flavor. Lark sits up and uncorks the wine with ease, pouring the drink into our glasses.

“Eat,” he says, pushing the plate of assorted meats and cheeses toward me. I nibble on a cracker topped with a slice of sharp cheddar, savoring the rich taste. “You’ll need your energy,” he says, and I’d swear my heart stops in my chest.

“Everything's delicious,” I murmur, my eyes wandering over the spread.

He smiles, watching me eat and I feel safe, loved, and cared for.

There's an easiness between us, a comfort that shouldn't be there after all these years and yet it is.

“I've been thinking about the future,” I say, hesitant but needing him to understand. “For our son... I want to build something lasting, grow my wealth. Not just for me, but for him.”

Lark nods, his gaze intense. “I get it. I'm aiming for the billionaire mark myself. Five to ten years, that's the goal.”

“More than money, though,” I say, twirling a grape stem in my fingers, “I want to be the kind of mom who's there. To give him a life full of love, the kind I missed out on.”

“That sounds perfect.” He reaches over, his hand covering mine. His touch offers a silent promise of support and I’m grateful.

“And my brother...” I hesitate, but the words need to come out. “He needs me, too. I want to make every day count, infuse it with love. You know?”

“Absolutely.” There's no hesitation in his voice, only conviction.

I look up at him. The warmth in his eyes nearly undoes me. It's a look so tender, so full of emotion, that it steals my breath.

For a moment, I'm lost in that stare, wondering if it's possible that he sees me as more than just a past fling, but as the woman he could love.