Once back on the boat, Mark handed Jayme a life jacket, and slipped one on himself. Jayme didn’t question him. She had learned long ago to follow the lead of the best qualified, just do what you’re told, no questions asked… questions wasted precious time. She bent to pack her camera’s away, safe from the ensuing sprays of salt, and slipped in some water. Without hesitation, Jayme reached inside her other bag for her skid proof surf-shoes, shedding her delicate sandals. Mark smiled his approval and set to work guiding them slowly out of the harbor. Once on open water, Mark opened the throttle as wide as safely possible, and they skimmed the tops of the increasingly violent waves.
“Hold on, Jayme, it’s going to get rough! And after that, it’s going to get rougher! Look behind you, the storm is gaining,” Mark was shouting now, trying to be heard over the engine and the thunder. “We should be able to make it to my side of the island in about ten more minutes.”
Nine minutes later, Jayme felt the first hard spattering of rain pelt her back. Her blouse was soon soaked with stinging salt water. She looked anxiously at Mark. He kept his concentration forward, his usually soft mouth now a hard thin line, almost willing them to beat the beast behind them.
Jayme stood ankle deep in water when Mark began to slow the boat. With both bags nearby, she was ready to toss them on the dock, leaving her free to help Mark do whatever needed to be done.
“There’s a fitted tarp under that seat! Start hooking on the pins! If we don’t cover her up she’ll be sunk in the morning for sure!” Mark shouted over the increasing gale, as he throttled back even more, coasting into the dock bumpers. They worked quickly and efficiently, moving as one, until the boat was finally secure. Mark grabbed the camera case while Jayme took the other bag and they made a dash up the 100 yard beach. By the time Mark opened the glass patio doors, they were both even more thoroughly soaked to the skin.
Mark set her camera bag down gently by he side of the low slung couch. The wind roared outside the closed door, trying to get in. “There’s matches by the scuttle. Everything’s set to get a fire started. I’ve got to go back out and close the storm shutters. I won’t be long, “ Mark dropped a quick kiss on Jayme’s salty mouth, and was gone. Jayme quickly started the fire, knowing they would need it to take the chill off. It might have been 90 degrees earlier in the day, but the storm had brought a cold wind, plunging the temperature severely downward. It couldn’t be more than 50-55 degrees now, Jayme thought in passing… then realized that meant hurricane weather! Is that what was happening? Surely there would have been more warning. The thought that Mark was out there by himself sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. Jayme darted out the door.
She found him struggling with a latch while at the same time trying to hold the shutter closed. Jayme pushed his hand away from the latch and pointed to the shutter. Mark pushed his shoulder into the wood, holding it against the forceful wind. Jayme threw the bolt home. They moved to the next window. While Mark forced the wooden plank into the wind over the glass, Jayme managed the side that was with the wind, and threw that bolt in place. The unspoken exchange of teamwork continued around the small building until they were back to the glass door-wall. The storm had gained twice fold in the short amount of time they were securing the storm shutters. The ocean churned and lashed at the shore, the tiny boat bobbed mercilessly against the dock. They darted inside, just as a large tree branch fell where they had been standing. Mark pushed the glass door closed, shutting out most, but not all, of the thundering cadence.
“We may have ourselves a full blown hurricane before the night is over. We made it back just in time,” Mark looked down at Jayme, rain dripping from his disheveled hair. “You were wonderful, by the way. I couldn’t have gotten the shutters closed without you.” His eyes focused on her soft mouth.
“You would have managed somehow,” Jayme protested, but was pleased with his recognition of her help.
“I don’t think so. The wind was already too strong. We make a good team,” Mark’s gaze drifted over her body. The rain soaked blouse showing every feminine curve. He sucked in a breath. “I’ll get some towels,” and he turned away before Jayme could see the rising hunger in his eyes.
Afraid he would lose control if he got too close to her, Mark handed Jayme a large fluffy blue towel, then moved in front of the now blazing fire, a second towel draped around his neck. Medically he understood the adrenalin pumping thru his veins could cause a heightened sexual awareness, but he also knew he didn’t need adrenalin to be very aware of wanting to hold her close to him. Jayme met his eyes briefly, then put the towel over her head and began to rub vigorously. She breathed deeply. Even the towel smells like him, she thought; spicy, clean, sensual. Sliding the piece of terrycloth down over her shoulders, Jayme again caught Mark’s eyes. His gaze covered her body in one sweep, then started again, slowly, sensuously meandering across every curve and hollow. Jayme’s heart began pounding in her ears. Surely he could hear from across the room! She willed her heart to slow as Mark covered the few feet separating them.
He took a corner of her towel and slowly, gently wiped a drop of water from her cheek. Jayme stood mesmerized by his touch, unable to unlock her green eyes from his gray ones. With a groan, Mark pulled her to him, molding her body to his. Covering her waiting mouth with his, he succumbed to the flurry of sensations that threatened to drown him. Jayme moaned as she leaned her body against his.
“Oh, Jayme!” he murmured as he left a trail of little kisses across her cheek, down her neck and across her throat. His hands eased under her wet shirt, caressing the bare skin. As he massaged between her shoulder blades, he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra, and another moan escaped his throat. He pressed his body more tightly against hers. She could feel his need rising, and it fed her own. He pulled away slightly, running his hands down the sides of her ribs, his thumbs caressing the sides of her bare breasts. Jayme closed her eyes, tilting her head backward. As she opened them again, Mark was poised with his hands on her top button, waiting for rejections. The moment passed, his gray eyes clouded with want and need and pure lust as he undid one button after another. Finally freeing the last clasp, Mark pushed the rain drenched shirt from her bronzed shoulders.
“Beautiful. So beautiful,” his head lowered to take a brown nipple in his mouth. As he sucked then stroked with his tongue, first one breast then the other, Jayme arched her back in ecstasy, unable and unwilling to control her own mounting desire. He brought his face to hers, and kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth with his tongue.
Pulling back, Mark started unbuttoning his shirt. Jayme reached for his hands to stop him. For a moment, he thought she was rejecting him again, then she started releasing the buttons herself. As she undid one clasp at a time, she placed a kiss on his chest, working her way down to his firm belly. He grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he demanded, his voice a husky rasp. Jayme only smiled in answer, and reached for his belt buckle, her bare breasts brushing the furry mat of hair on his chest. He pushed her hands aside with a muffled moan, undoing the belt and stepping out of his jeans. When he looked up, Jayme had stepped out of her shorts, and was standing in from of the fire, her slim body a shadow, silhouetted by the blaze behind. Mark clutched her firmly and lowered her to the pillows on the floor.
He kissed her thoroughly, tasting every part of her sweet mouth, then began a slow sensuous trail down her neck, across her breasts. His tongue filled the depression in her taunt belly. His touch turned to liquid heat. Everywhere he touched her, her skin ignited in passionate flames. She arched and moaned as his hands drew delicious circles along her inner thighs.
Mark balanced on one elbow, raising up over her as she opened to receive him. He slipped one hand under her firm buttocks, raising her to meet him. He kissed her gently as his throbbing manhood teased and probed. Jayme groaned breathlessly, her hands dancing along his back, pulling him closer. As he entered her, Jayme let out a cry of pleasure. Fearing he had hurt her, Mark started to pull back. Jayme clutched at him, pulling him back into her. He buried his face in her hair, nibbling her neck, caressing her on the outside as he was on the inside.
As Mark filled her with long powerful strokes, Jayme met him, thrust for passionate thrust. She was oblivious to the little mewling sounds that escaped from deep inside. Her passion mounted as Mark quickened his pace. Suddenly, he stopped, pulling out of her, breathing hard.
“This is going too fast, Jayme. I can’t hold on unless I slow down,” Mark’s breathing was rapid and erratic.
“I don’t want you to slow down, Mark. It’s been a long time…. Love me, Mark. Love me,” Jayme pleaded.
With a delighted groan, Mark moved on top of her again. His swollen maleness fit into her hot, wet sweetness with ease. As they moved as one, Jayme felt herself ride wave after wave of luxurious sensations, spiraling upward, ever upward. Completely detached from all but the glorious feelings cascading around her, Jayme felt the exquisite convulsions begin. As she rode the crest of a million stars exploding around her, she cried out Mark’s name just as he joined her blaze of climaxes.