“I don’t know what I would do, but I would not rape you. And I would not beg. Not ever!”
I released her throat, shaken by the anger I had felt. I don’t like to be out of control, and my show of force had nearly become real. I caught her arms and jerked her upright. I shifted my weight and, without rising, lifted her out at arm’s length and slammed her onto the other transom. Her eyes grew wide. I don’t look like I could do that.
“Raven, you had better get your story straight. You are sending too many messages, and none of them track. And don’t try to jerk me around. It won’t work.”
Her brows were drawn together. She looked angry, but I was learning that nothing is ever that simple with Raven. She met my gaze. Her face was flushed and her lip trembled. Her voice was flat and challenging as she said, “What kind of message am I sending now?”
I said the first thing that came into my mind. I said, “Lost and lonely.”
Raven choked. Tears welled in her eyes and traced the lines of her face. I had hit a little too close to home. I had reached past her defenses to the core of her anger and confusion. She bit her lip and controlled her voice. She could not control her tears. She pounded her knees with her fists, and muttered, “Bitch, bitch, bitch!” over and over.
Finally she stood up. We were close together in the confines of the Wahini’s cabin. Her waist was at the level of my face. She began to unbutton Will’s shirt. There was no showiness and no hesitation, just a simple twist of the fingers, one button after the other, until it fell open and she shrugged it off.
She was not wearing the string bikini, and she was magnificent.
Will’s jeans were bunched in folds around her waist and cinched in by his belt. She unbuckled it and the jeans slumped down until they caught on the flare of her hips. She reached forward and braced her hands on my shoulders. She was trembling and her voice was husky as she asked, “Is this message clear enough?”
I reached up to the silky skin under her arms and brought my rough hands down her sides. Like sandpaper on velvet. I could feel her take a deeper breath. I brought my hands past the narrowness of her waist and around the swelling of her hips, pushing the jeans ahead until they rounded the curve of her flank and fell away.
She slipped her hands down the back of my collar as I leaned forward. Still gripping her hips in my hands, I kissed her gently, first just beneath the navel, then downward. I could hear hear moan above me. A long, long time down there, as she shivered to the touch of my tongue, then upward to take her breasts in my mouth while she fumbled with my clothing and took me in her small, strong hands. Then she was sprawled on her back across the transom, and I was plunging deep in, and for a while there was no doubt of what either of us wanted. more tomorrow