Ocean Jewel by Cassie Mint

Seven

Roxy

This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

This is a nightmare. Right?

There’s no way that I really did something so stupid. Drew sex drawings of my brother’s best friend, then left them laying out on deck where anyone could find them.

It’s too stupid to believe, and the worst thing is… I don’t think it was an accident. Not really.

I think I wanted Damian to see them. I think I wanted to plant that seed in his mind—the idea of the two of us together, naked and grasping.

I wanted to see his reaction. Well, I got it. “Fucking hell.”

So humiliating. And I’ve truly played myself, because it’s not like I can go away somewhere to lick my wounds. I’m stuck here for a whole week still, on this boat with him, his broad shoulders and firm jaw and smoldering brown eyes everywhere I look.

I groan and bury my face in the pillow. Seriously, what was I thinking?

“Roxy.” Normally I love to hear his voice. The low, rich timber of it. And him saying my name? Forget it. But right this moment, I’d rather leap out of the porthole than see Damian.

“Go away,” I yell into the pillow.

There’s a sharp exhale. Halfway between a huff and a laugh. Then he’s trying the handle, nudging at my door.

“It’s locked,” I grumble, just loud enough for him to hear. “Good to know you don’t respect any boundaries, though.”

There’s a long silence. Then a sigh. The floor in the corridor creaks as he shifts his weight, his voice coming clearer through the door.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I looked. I shouldn’t have done that.” I shake my head into the pillow, even though he can’t see me. He’s sorry? Oh, that’s nice. I guess I won’t be viscerally humiliated any more. “But, Roxy—” he lowers his voice. I have to strain to hear him. “I’m not sorry about what I saw.”

Heat prickles over my skin, from my head to my toes. What does that mean? My mind races as I sit up in bed, staring at the locked cabin door as I gnaw on my lip.

He’s not sorry about what he saw?

“Did you…” I clear my throat and speak a little louder. “Did you… like them?”

“Yes.” His reply is immediate. He tries the handle again. “Let me in and I’ll show you.”

Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god. My older brother is right down the hall. It’s not even late yet, no one is asleep, and Damian wants to come in? To be alone in my bedroom? I swing my feet off the bed, standing and swaying in my chunky socks. The floor tilts beneath me as I stumble to the door and pause.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He says it so quiet, I don’t know if I’m even meant to hear. I hold my breath and spin the lock.

The door pushes open straight away, Damian’s bulk crowding through the doorway, then he slams it shut and turns the lock behind him. He seems even bigger than before, vibrating with energy, and when he turns to face me, his eyes are hard.

He pushes my sketchpad into my hands.

“Better keep that safe,” he rasps. “You don’t want anyone to see.”

That’s not quite true. I scratch my nail over the cover, then go for broke.

“Actually, I wanted you to see.”

His chest expands. Damian stares down at me, every line of him rigid and terse. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d think he was angry.

He’s not angry. He’s about to snap.

“What are you going to show me?” He needs that final push. Damian is a good man, and loyal to my brother. He may have come here, but I can see the conflict warring in his eyes. I take a deep breath and place my hand on his chest.

That’s all. Just that simple touch. I’ve probably touched him there dozens of times before. But this time, it’s different. This time, we’re crammed inside my cabin, locked in together beside my messy bed, and the sketchpad gripping in my other hand is full of things I can’t take back.

I can’t, and I don’t want to, not when Damian grunts and grabs me by the ass, lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. The sketchpad falls to the bed, forgotten. I loop my arms around his neck, gasping as his hard, trapped length prods the seam of my leggings.

“You’re trying to push me,” he says hoarsely, rutting against me as he speaks. I whimper, burying my face in his throat. “You want to see how far I’ll go, sweetheart?”

I nod, the delicious friction of him rubbing against me tying my tongue in knots. “Yes,” I gasp when his hand cracks against my ass. “I want all of it.”

He curses darkly, and it’s just like up on deck. When he flicked through my drawings of him and swore. But then, I thought he was disgusted. Annoyed.

Now I know better. He wants me just as badly.

“I’ll fix this for you,” he’s muttering. “Are you aching, sweetheart? I can make that go away.” I nod and rub against him, rolling my hips, rubbing my face in his throat like I can coat myself in his scent. “Jake never needs to know,” he says quietly, and I pause, heart sinking.

He doesn’t?

So this is… a one-time thing?

A crack splinters down the center of my chest. I keep my face hidden, eyes screwed shut in pain, but I won’t show him this part of me. These feelings are even more private than my sketchpad. And when I’ve finally caught my breath, hips starting to roll again, I’m determined.

If one time is all I get, I’ll make the most of it. I’ll soak up every atom of Damian Flint that he’ll give me, and when he leaves my cabin… I’ll let him go. Try to move on.

Still, when his mouth crashes onto mine, kissing me hard and fast and desperate—my heart aches so badly it brings tears to my eyes.

“What’s this?” Damian leans back, capturing a stray tear with his thumb. “Have I hurt you? Do you want to stop?”

“No.” I fist my hands in his shirt, and force the words out. Force myself to be brave. “I want to keep going. I want…” I grit my teeth and meet his eyes. “I want your cock.”

Something ripples through him. His eyes darken. His hands squeeze tighter on my ass.

“Roxy,” he chokes out. “I shouldn’t…”

I rake my teeth up his throat. “You definitely should.”

That’s all it takes. He spins us around, lowering to sit on my bed. I scramble back off his lap, tugging my leggings and panties down, and the noise he makes as I drop them makes my head spin. I go to climb back on his thighs but he moves even faster, sliding down to lay length-ways and patting his chest.

“Up here, sweet girl.”

I frown, doing as he says. “You want me to sit up here?”

“Close.” He smirks. “On my face.”

Oh.

I’ve—I’ve heard of this. But I’ve never done it, never done any of it. Before today, I’d never even kissed a man. How could I, when my heart only ached for my brother’s best friend?

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper. I expect him to sigh, but heat flares in his eyes. He scoops my ass into his hands again and lifts me forward. He lines me up, settling my knees on either side of his head, and when he urges me to lower myself down, I jump at the sudden contact.

His chin is scratchy. Rough with his evening shadow. And bony against my soft flesh. But then there’s the warmth of his breath, and he opens his mouth, and his tongue—

Oh.I scrabble at the wall, head tipping back on my shoulders.

Damian licks at me with broad strokes, delving and exploring, and when he suckles on my clit, my thighs start to twitch. He groans as he licks me, like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted, his hands squeezing and releasing my ass.

God.

I rock against him, shyly at first, then braver and bolder the longer we go.

“That’s it,” he grinds out into my pussy. “Take what you want, sweet girl.”

I rock harder, faster, and when his tongue plunges inside me, I shudder and quake, falling apart at the seams. A hoarse cry passes my lips, and I duck my chin, shaking as wave after wave passes through me.

Holy shit. I slump, remembering at the last second to scoot back and sit on Damian’s chest. He watches me carefully, chin slick, stroking his palms up and down my thighs.

“Did you like that, Roxy?”

I nod dazedly. I can’t speak.

“Do you still want—” A knock at the door makes us both freeze. We stare at each other in horror as Jake’s voice floats through the door.

“Rox? Are you in there?” The door handle jiggles. Does no one on this boat respect a closed door? “You seemed kind of weird at dinner. You want to come out and play cards?”

I sit on the sculpted chest of my brother’s best friend, breath wheezing in and out of my lungs. There’s no way to make this look good. I’m-I’m naked from the waist down, and I lurch off the bed with wobbly legs. I fumble my leggings back on with shaking fingers as Damian pushes upright, making the bed quickly and wiping his face. Then he sits back down and puts his face in his hands.

Okay. Okay. I scan desperately for my panties but they’re gone.

Okay. This is happening.

“Hi!” I spin the lock and yank the door open. “Um, sorry. I wanted to talk to Damian about something.”

Jake stands in the corridor, peering over my shoulder. His gaze bounces between my flushed cheeks and Damian’s stony expression. His eyes narrow.

“What’s going on?” He directs the question to me. It’s quiet. Commanding. Sometimes Jake forgets that I’m grown now. That he’s not my stand-in parent any more.

“I just told you,” I say, breathless. “I needed to ask Damian a favor—”

“What kind of favor?” His question is low. Deadly. The look he shoots Damian over my shoulder—it’s like he doesn’t recognize his own best friend.

“Um.” My cheeks flare bright red. “I wanted to ask him about boys.”

“About—” Jake cuts himself off, shaking his head. “What? Why? Why wouldn’t you come to me?”

“To her older brother?” Damian asks wryly, pushing to his feet. I glance back at him, but he won’t meet my eye. “Give her a break, man. No one wants to talk to their sibling about this stuff.”

“Right. Yeah.” Jake brightens, all that suspicion gone. It’s as if it never happened. “I hope you told her none of them are good enough for her.”

“Shut up,” I mumble, half touched, half horrified.

“Roxy knows.” Damian squeezes past me, and he ruffles my hair. I blink at his shoulder blades passing through the doorway, stunned.

“So you wanna play cards?” Jake asks again, grinning at me. “I’ll let you win a few rounds.”

“In your dreams,” I murmur. Damian casts one last look at me, his face unreadable, then strides away down the corridor. The thud of his boots echoes back to me, each one clanging through my brain.

…That’s it. That’s it? He does that to me, then just walks away without another word? Ruffles my hair like some kid and strolls away? My jaw snaps shut, grinding my teeth, and I barely manage to wave Jake off, claiming a headache.

I don’t want to play cards. I don’t want to see anyone.

I’m sick of these men.