Read Online Jack & Jilted by Cathy Yardley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cathy Yardley
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Category, Yachts
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a moment with utter disbelief. Then he got up, grumbling, and grabbed his jeans, tugging them on. She watched him get his clothes back on with regret, knowing what she now knew the clothes were hiding.
“This isn’t over,” he growled and then stalked out of her cabin, slamming the door behind him.
She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Of course it wasn’t over. And this was why she didn’t do little stupid things.
THE NEXT MORNING, JACK was sandy-eyed and furious, pacing the confines of the captain’s quarters. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. He wasn’t angry at Chloe. Well, okay, he was a little angry at Chloe because she hadn’t given him a chance to make it up to her and because she’d gone from a hypnotic sea siren to a dismissive ice queen in about fifteen seconds. Of course, once he’d thought about it (around three o’clock in the morning, after several beers) he’d realized that he would probably be pretty peeved, too, if he’d gone all that way and not “reached completion.” And why should she trust him to do better the next time? He’d botched it pretty good the first time. Which accounted for the rest of his angry state that morning. He was boiling with self-contempt at his performance…or rather, lack thereof.
Ordinarily, he prided himself on being a skilled, considerate lover. He enjoyed sex and, like any good hobby, he’d practiced it plenty over his lifetime. He didn’t just enjoy it for his own selfish gratification, either. Other than the fact that he would not stay onshore, his lovers had never complained about him in any way. He’d made sure of that.
So what had happened last night to create such a consummate disaster?
For one thing, she had blindsided him, in more ways than one. He knew that she was in a fragile state and yet he still hadn’t expected her to ask him for sex…not and be serious about it. She might be the type to fantasize, but he would’ve bet his boat that she wasn’t the type to actually act on it. Yet with all his stupid pep talks, his “do one little stupid thing” advice, he’d all but brought it on himself.
Then, when she’d actually asked him to have sex with her, he realized that he should have said no, emphatically, and sent her back to bed alone. In his mind, he assured himself that if the event happened, that’s exactly what he’d do. But he should’ve known better. In his entire life, he doubted he’d ever taken that “noble” and celibate road when it came to women. What had surprised him then was the effort he’d made to sabotage himself—trying to get her to see reason, trying to show her that they had no future. And she hadn’t cared. She had only wanted him for one night, she’d said, and while he’d known she was probably lying, his body had conned him into believing her…because he’d wanted her from the minute she’d stepped on his dock, looking forlorn and heavenly in that pink suit of hers. From the minute he’d seen her, a luscious study in earth tones lying naked beneath her satin sheet, he’d known that one way or another he’d probably have her, given any opportunity.
The last shock was when he’d finally gotten her to bed. With all her delicate, almost haunting beauty, he’d expected it to be gentle. He’d thought to woo her, to coax her away from her shyness…to make sure that this was, indeed, what she wanted and give her plenty of room to turn back. He might not be noble, but he wasn’t a complete bastard, either. But she hadn’t needed coaxing. If anything, the moment that door had closed, she’d become someone else—someone just as enticing as the vulnerable little miss he’d become infatuated with. Hell, more enticing. He got the feeling she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, even if he’d been able to pony up the moral fortitude to try denying her. The way she’d reached for him, the way she’d pushed and insisted, the way she’d responded were all unbelievably
“This isn’t over,” he growled and then stalked out of her cabin, slamming the door behind him.
She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Of course it wasn’t over. And this was why she didn’t do little stupid things.
THE NEXT MORNING, JACK was sandy-eyed and furious, pacing the confines of the captain’s quarters. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. He wasn’t angry at Chloe. Well, okay, he was a little angry at Chloe because she hadn’t given him a chance to make it up to her and because she’d gone from a hypnotic sea siren to a dismissive ice queen in about fifteen seconds. Of course, once he’d thought about it (around three o’clock in the morning, after several beers) he’d realized that he would probably be pretty peeved, too, if he’d gone all that way and not “reached completion.” And why should she trust him to do better the next time? He’d botched it pretty good the first time. Which accounted for the rest of his angry state that morning. He was boiling with self-contempt at his performance…or rather, lack thereof.
Ordinarily, he prided himself on being a skilled, considerate lover. He enjoyed sex and, like any good hobby, he’d practiced it plenty over his lifetime. He didn’t just enjoy it for his own selfish gratification, either. Other than the fact that he would not stay onshore, his lovers had never complained about him in any way. He’d made sure of that.
So what had happened last night to create such a consummate disaster?
For one thing, she had blindsided him, in more ways than one. He knew that she was in a fragile state and yet he still hadn’t expected her to ask him for sex…not and be serious about it. She might be the type to fantasize, but he would’ve bet his boat that she wasn’t the type to actually act on it. Yet with all his stupid pep talks, his “do one little stupid thing” advice, he’d all but brought it on himself.
Then, when she’d actually asked him to have sex with her, he realized that he should have said no, emphatically, and sent her back to bed alone. In his mind, he assured himself that if the event happened, that’s exactly what he’d do. But he should’ve known better. In his entire life, he doubted he’d ever taken that “noble” and celibate road when it came to women. What had surprised him then was the effort he’d made to sabotage himself—trying to get her to see reason, trying to show her that they had no future. And she hadn’t cared. She had only wanted him for one night, she’d said, and while he’d known she was probably lying, his body had conned him into believing her…because he’d wanted her from the minute she’d stepped on his dock, looking forlorn and heavenly in that pink suit of hers. From the minute he’d seen her, a luscious study in earth tones lying naked beneath her satin sheet, he’d known that one way or another he’d probably have her, given any opportunity.
The last shock was when he’d finally gotten her to bed. With all her delicate, almost haunting beauty, he’d expected it to be gentle. He’d thought to woo her, to coax her away from her shyness…to make sure that this was, indeed, what she wanted and give her plenty of room to turn back. He might not be noble, but he wasn’t a complete bastard, either. But she hadn’t needed coaxing. If anything, the moment that door had closed, she’d become someone else—someone just as enticing as the vulnerable little miss he’d become infatuated with. Hell, more enticing. He got the feeling she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, even if he’d been able to pony up the moral fortitude to try denying her. The way she’d reached for him, the way she’d pushed and insisted, the way she’d responded were all unbelievably
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