Read Online BILLIONAIRE Island: Idyllic Mischief by Savannah May - Free Book Online
Authors: Savannah May
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couple of spares only along to make up a faux foursome. Why even bother?
“Yeah, okay,” Damien said reluctantly. “Can you drive the boat?” he asked Sash.
“I reckon I can remember how.”
Even more reluctantly, Indie untied the sarong knotted on her hips and tossed it on the leather bench. She looked up and caught Dam's eyes blazing over her body, lingering on the newly exposed hips, her ass as she bent over. Pig . Still, the tug between her thighs had other ideas. “Be careful with her,” he said to Sash who looked like a James Bond Girl at the helm of his boat.
“ You be careful with her ,” Sash laughed. And he dove headfirst into the soft warm water while Indie climbed down the steps.
Could she be any more ungainly, she thought, paddling one leg furiously so as not to drown while she maneuvered the other into the ski's foot stirrup. Jee-suss. Crouched with knees splayed up, crotch to heel, heart thounding in her chest, Damn shouted to Sasha to take it easy. The pull came on the boat, Indie pushed her thighs to build resistance to the water and two seconds later splatted face down.
Three more attempts of exactly the same and every ounce of her flesh was set on quitting. Sasha seemed to think it was funny and Damn was getting more and more irritated, telling her over and over, “Push your hips out. Harder. Push harder.” Shut the fuck up. At least Laurent wasn't taking his pleasure in watching her pain. He sat rigid in the back of the boat, doodling in a notebook.
“Push, push, push,” Dam ordered as the boat pull came on the rope and swore under his breath when Indie wiped yet again.
“You aren't pushing hard enough,” he shouted at her across the water surface between their chins.
“Stop saying that,” Indie screamed, furious at the tears pricking at her eyelids. “I'm jet-lagged, I'm hungover and mostly I’m a freaking rookie. Sorry I'm not an expert competitor but I'm doing the best I can so cut me some friggin' slack.”
Damn's face, three quarters above water, pulled back and played a movie scene of emotions before he smiled and fished his way across to her. She turned from him to yank the unwieldy length of wood back to her foot in a rage and a shiver sizzled through her as he put his hand lightly in the small of her back to steady her.
“Hey, you can totally do this. Can I show you?” he said as she swiveled into the unglamorous position of a woman about to drop a kid . “Your legs are too wide apart.” Sheesh. “Bring your knees together more.” He put his hand on the sensitive flesh above her knee and it quivered beneath his palm. He was just too close and she was trapped in the stupid ski, sitting in the palm of his hand, literally, all her weight resting on it where it still held her, burning into her back right above the bikini bottom.
“Okay.” Just breathe.
“Now when you feel the tug, clamp your inner thighs and push your pelvis forward, hard, ram it harder than you think you're able and come out.” From her knee, he'd slithered his hand the length of her thigh in very serious explanation, as though it was the most vital thing in the world to him that she stand up under his instruction. It grazed her flesh all the way to rest on her hipbone as he instructed her to push harder. Her legs were so weak there was no way Indie could have stood on solid ground let alone on water.
“Ready, champ?” The hand on her back moved to her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her neck. It was ridiculous how much she was shivering in the syrupy water. Focus, girl. Sasha started the engine again and as the rope pulled taut, Indie felt her body work as one integral unit of smooth resistance. Behind her Damien urged her to push hard and she thrust her hips, clenched her inner thighs downwards and glided to a backwards arc moving forward in the surf.
Exhilaration flushed her veins and she felt indestructible mastering the uncontrollable force of the ocean.
“Wow, wow, wow, wow,
“Yeah, okay,” Damien said reluctantly. “Can you drive the boat?” he asked Sash.
“I reckon I can remember how.”
Even more reluctantly, Indie untied the sarong knotted on her hips and tossed it on the leather bench. She looked up and caught Dam's eyes blazing over her body, lingering on the newly exposed hips, her ass as she bent over. Pig . Still, the tug between her thighs had other ideas. “Be careful with her,” he said to Sash who looked like a James Bond Girl at the helm of his boat.
“ You be careful with her ,” Sash laughed. And he dove headfirst into the soft warm water while Indie climbed down the steps.
Could she be any more ungainly, she thought, paddling one leg furiously so as not to drown while she maneuvered the other into the ski's foot stirrup. Jee-suss. Crouched with knees splayed up, crotch to heel, heart thounding in her chest, Damn shouted to Sasha to take it easy. The pull came on the boat, Indie pushed her thighs to build resistance to the water and two seconds later splatted face down.
Three more attempts of exactly the same and every ounce of her flesh was set on quitting. Sasha seemed to think it was funny and Damn was getting more and more irritated, telling her over and over, “Push your hips out. Harder. Push harder.” Shut the fuck up. At least Laurent wasn't taking his pleasure in watching her pain. He sat rigid in the back of the boat, doodling in a notebook.
“Push, push, push,” Dam ordered as the boat pull came on the rope and swore under his breath when Indie wiped yet again.
“You aren't pushing hard enough,” he shouted at her across the water surface between their chins.
“Stop saying that,” Indie screamed, furious at the tears pricking at her eyelids. “I'm jet-lagged, I'm hungover and mostly I’m a freaking rookie. Sorry I'm not an expert competitor but I'm doing the best I can so cut me some friggin' slack.”
Damn's face, three quarters above water, pulled back and played a movie scene of emotions before he smiled and fished his way across to her. She turned from him to yank the unwieldy length of wood back to her foot in a rage and a shiver sizzled through her as he put his hand lightly in the small of her back to steady her.
“Hey, you can totally do this. Can I show you?” he said as she swiveled into the unglamorous position of a woman about to drop a kid . “Your legs are too wide apart.” Sheesh. “Bring your knees together more.” He put his hand on the sensitive flesh above her knee and it quivered beneath his palm. He was just too close and she was trapped in the stupid ski, sitting in the palm of his hand, literally, all her weight resting on it where it still held her, burning into her back right above the bikini bottom.
“Okay.” Just breathe.
“Now when you feel the tug, clamp your inner thighs and push your pelvis forward, hard, ram it harder than you think you're able and come out.” From her knee, he'd slithered his hand the length of her thigh in very serious explanation, as though it was the most vital thing in the world to him that she stand up under his instruction. It grazed her flesh all the way to rest on her hipbone as he instructed her to push harder. Her legs were so weak there was no way Indie could have stood on solid ground let alone on water.
“Ready, champ?” The hand on her back moved to her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her neck. It was ridiculous how much she was shivering in the syrupy water. Focus, girl. Sasha started the engine again and as the rope pulled taut, Indie felt her body work as one integral unit of smooth resistance. Behind her Damien urged her to push hard and she thrust her hips, clenched her inner thighs downwards and glided to a backwards arc moving forward in the surf.
Exhilaration flushed her veins and she felt indestructible mastering the uncontrollable force of the ocean.
“Wow, wow, wow, wow,
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