Mac jumped on the bench and grabbed her around the waist as she reached for the handle on the dock. “Settle down. Of course, you can drive.” Swinging her around, he dumped her onto the deck. Looking over her head at Devin, he added, “She drives the other boat all the time.”
Devin didn’t appear convinced.
“So, yeah, she’ll drive.” Mac winked, but he didn’t wink at her; he winked at Devin.
Cassidy bit her lips in an attempt to contain her laugh as a look of relief rolled over the other man as he understood Mac’s gesture: he’d let the girlthinkshe was driving. But he added, “Okay, well, you break it; you buy it.”
Cassidy giggled as she stepped up to the steering wheel, watching while Mac and Devin loosened the ties. Devin instructed her on which button to hit to raise the anchor, and she managed to look incompetent in doing so.
Mac approached her with narrowed eyes, and she shook her ass at him, a girlie gesture of triumph. He smacked it as he stepped up behind her, sitting in the captain’s chair, turning the key in the ignition.
Leaning forward, he said huskily in her ear, “If you think I’m not fucking you on this boat, you’re dead wrong.”
Cassidy elbowed him. “Pay attention, Skipper, or you’ll be buying a pile of fiberglass.”
No longer playful, she checked to be sure Devin was on the dock before she eased the boat away, trying not to be too good but not able to hide the jerkiness of the sudden power to which she wasn’t accustomed. She quietly gave Mac orders as he took the wheel with her; a casual observer would think Mac was driving as she was holding on.
An owner who wanted to see that would see that.
They cleared the dock, puttering into the vast open lake. Cassidy familiarized herself with the controls as they bobbed for a moment, Devin watching them. She said over her shoulder, “I don’t know how powerful the thrust is on this.”
Mac pulled her backward snugly between his legs to offer her stability, again, making it look like a captain entertaining his girl. “Not as powerful as the one I’m going to give you.”
Cassidy grinned but didn’t comment. She eased on the throttle, and the boat revved forward, then launched cleanly into the water.
Chapter forty-five
Cassidy
FEEL SO REAL
Turningthewheel,Cassidysteered the boat toward the deep as she opened it up. She thrilled with the effortless speed as the boat flew over the water like a skater on ice, its nose rising.
She didn’t know the boat or the lake, but she kept one eye on the instruments and continuously scanned her surroundings. Without the benefit of a windscreen, the air raced by them. Her headband kept her hair from whipping into her face, but its strands danced in the breeze. Mac leaned to the side, most likely to escape the punishing lashing.
She glanced behind herself once to ensure Fred was doing okay, which had Mac caressing her thigh reassuringly. Fred was holding his own in the elevated boat, eyeing the interior longingly.
Adrenaline poured through her; it was a rush: a well-performing powerboat. She braved a few maneuvers, not so crazy her dog would fly out the back, but crazy enough it pushed the man behind her beyond his limits.
In a sudden, determined, and frantic motion, he reached around and unbuttoned her jean shorts. Before she could react, he was reaching inside, slipping his fingers expertly over her. She slowed the throttle, knowing she couldn’t concentrate on the machine and what the man was doing to her. “Mac!”
Grasping onto the wheel, she pulled herself to a standing position, not to get away, but to try to concentrate on securing and stopping the boat. He followed, his lips on the back of her neck, grasping her waistband and yanking her shorts down.
“Are you telling me no?” he asked, an edge to his voice as he worked himself out of his jeans. “Because I need you right fucking now.”
A thrill more powerful than handling the combined 700 horsepower craft beneath them shot through her. “I’m not telling you no.”
Reaching around, he pulled her chin toward him so he could kiss her, his desperation evident. He asked again, “That a yes?”
“Yes.” Of course, yes, he was crazy to think he had to ask.
Grasping her hips, he thrust into her, a shuddering groan escaping him as he buried himself inside of her. He dropped his head to her neck. “Fuck, Day.” And then he powered into her as she pressed back against him, his movements frantic, no finesse, barely controlled.
He was rough—rougher than he’d ever been—and she loved it. She loved his need for her that had him ripping her pants off her on a boat in broad daylight. She reveled in the pleasure-pain that was him barreling into her. She leaned over the console, gripping the steering wheel as she came, crying out as he continued to pound into her.
But the moment he came, his fingers grasping at her, and he surged into her, they both froze. The retaliation hit them both at same time, twin gasps of breath, as hot fluid seeped from her. Neither moved.
Then he collapsed back in the overstuffed captain’s chair, withdrawing from her, pulling her back into his arms. “I’m sorry, Day. Fuck.Fuck.”