“What did he say to you?” I ask.
“He fought for you, sweetheart. Told me he has a stable job, a house, a boat. That he practically raised his sister, that he has a moral compass. And that if he left Seattle without fighting for what he believed in — which is you — than he wasn’t the kind of man he always wanted to be.”
“And that… that won you over?”
“It woke me up, Penelope. Snapped me out of whatever dream I’ve been in since your mother died.”
There is a ping at the elevator door. “Someone’s here,” I say.
“I bet I know who it is,” Dad answers. “Tell Paxton I think he’s even more of a gentleman than I thought. Hell, it takes integrity not to lead with numbers when you’re a billionaire.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“So are you accepting my apology?” he asks.
I smile, walking toward the elevator. “Yes Dad, I am.”
Chapter 10
Paxton
When the elevator door opens, Penelope is standing in front of me, smiling.
“You came back,” she says.
I hand her a bouquet of pink and purple roses. I’ve had a hell of a lot of conversations today, but I’m just getting started. I’m ready to make my intentions clear.
“I don’t deserve it,” she says. “Don’t deserve you being here.”
“Deserve? Penny, I don’t deserve any of what I have. But that just makes me want to be a better man. To respect the gifts I’ve been given in life, to cherish them. To cherish you.”
“I know you saw my father,” she says. “I was going to come to you. I had made up my mind. I wasn’t going to let my dad hold me hostage from the life I want. Believe me when I say that.”
She sets the roses on a table, and I take her hand in mind. “And what is the life you want?” I ask.
Her big, beautiful eyes are bright and they meet mine, shining. “I want to take a chance. A risk. An adventure. I want to sail away into the sunset, even if there are no guarantees. I don’t want to spend my life asking what if, I want to know the answer.”
I run a hand over her hip. “Damn, and here I was about to sell my sailboat and drop anchor in Seattle.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she says, her voice catching in that spot that is filled with hope. “Take me with you.”
I cup her cheek. “Your father gave me his blessing.”
“I know.” She looks up at me. “I told him your last name. Now he knows everything. But what makes my heart sing, Paxton, is that he changed his mind without knowing that. Just like I knew I loved you before I knew who you were.”
“You love me?” I ask, my cock twitching, chest pounding, desire thrumming through me.
“Yes, I do. I love you in a wild sort of way. A love that has no limits, because we haven’t tested them. A love that’s new and pure and raw and real. Ours. And I know, Paxton, that I was scared before, but right now, I feel free.”
“And that freedom, it doesn’t make you nervous? The unknown can be pretty terrifying.”
She shakes her head, standing on her tip-toes. Her nose brushes mine. “This freedom makes me feel like anything is possible.”
I lift my eyebrows, surprised in the best possible way. She’s choosing me. And damn, I choose her.
“You ready to get out of here?” I ask her.
She grins, our lips close to touching. “Don’t you want to know where I’m taking you?”
She shakes her head. “No. I trust you, Pax. And more than that, I trust us.”
Penny
He takes my hand and leads me to his sailboat. It isn’t a long walk, but for the last stretch of it, he lifts me up, into his strong arms, and carries me down the marina. It’s a beautiful night, full of stars and dark sky. Of possibility. We both feel it, I know we do. I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I’m ready for whatever it might be.
“This boat is magic,” I say, taking in the polished wood, the clean lines. It’s beautiful.
“You think you can manage to write some poetry on this deck?”
I nod. “I might have to be on the opposite side from you, though. You might be too distracting.”
He grins, and I turn to him, running my hand through his beard. “Might be?” he asks. “I plan on distracting you constantly.”
“You can start now,” I say, my hands under his shirt, relishing the feel of his warm, bare skin.
“I plan on it,” he says, before planning a kiss on my lips that has my knees buckling and my heart bending to meet his.
We move below deck, into his room — our room now— the ship smelling like salt water and pine, fresh air and sunshine. It smells like him. We undress quickly, the darkness covering us, and yet allowing us to bare it all.
I close my eyes as his hands wrap around my waist, drawing me close, and his thick cock presses against my belly. I want him to consume me. Take me, make me his tonight. I know he will.
On the bed, I roll on top of him, wanting to sink down, wanting him to fill me up. “Fuck, you are beautiful,” he says as his cock enters me, his firm hands massaging my breasts, my nipples hard but my skin soft. I melt, rocking against him at the same pace as the waves. Steady, undulating. Yes. Yes, my body gives way to the beat of the night and I come quickly, sighing against his chest as I do and he moves faster, taking me back to the beginning — and I laugh, loving the way this man I just met knows my body like he knows the sea.
“Oh Paxton,” I cry out, his fingers lacing with mine, and I know this is where I belong.
With a furry-faced man who knows what it means to be free.
A sailor who could go anywhere, be anything,
A man who still, despite all of that, chooses me.
Epilogue
One year later…
Paxton
The sun is setting as I walk back to the boat. The palm trees are silhouetted by the pink and purple sunset, the golden sand of the Tahitian beach glittering. Paradise, plain and simple.
But the real paradise is aboard this sailboat. And she is waiting for me.
A year ago, we left Seattle, headed north to my sister’s wedding — which was romantic and dramatic, as most wedding are. But it felt right, being there with Penelope. She fit right in with my sister and Stephan, and there wasn’t a single moment of wondering if we’d been rash with our decision to set sail together. It was right. Is right, still.
Penelope is home to me. And we’ve sailed the world this last year, falling more in love with life on the ocean.
“I thought I lost you,” she says. Penelope smiles, leaning over the deck, her skin kissed by the sun, her hair long and wavy, loose around her shoulders, and her tits pulling tight against the fabric of her white sundress.
“I stopped at the post office — we had mail.”
“I see that,” she says, taking a sip of a cocktail. “Anything good?”
“A package from your publisher,” I say, knowing she is going to be thrilled. But the package I received, that is currently in my pocket is the one that most excites me.