RHINO: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (With FREE Bonus Novel OFFSIDE!) Read online

  What the body can’t have, the heart desires even more, and believe me, even though that was as tricky as hell, I am almost a hundred percent sure it will be worth it.

  I’m back on the boat before Alex opens his eyes again, my pussy tingling and my pulse racing. He smiles, complicit in the game, happy I’ve pushed it that far to tease him.

  “You’ll regret that.”

  “Oh?”

  I lean over the edge to watch him swim towards the boat, his board shorts in my hands, ready to drop into the water for him.

  “When you really can’t resist me, I might have to refuse”, he says.

  “You, refuse? I don’t think so.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Carry on, I might begin to think you’re flirting with me.”

  “Nobody’s died from flirting, I think you’ll be alright.”

  I drop the board shorts into the water and turn away from him, heart still racing like crazy. Pretend I’m not interested and he’ll want me more. Even though this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done it’s definitely worth it. Even if only for that cock. I mean, I know it was under cold water but still, fuck me.

  Alex climbs aboard, much more gracefully than I managed, and I used the steps. He sits opposite from me, a strawberry placed between his lips, his eyes fixed on me intensely while water pools at his feet.

  “What?” I say.

  “Just thinking about how I can get you back.”

  “Let’s just keep this professional shall we, we’re two days in and I’ve hardly got any material yet.”

  “Professional?”

  “Exactly.”

  Alex nods. “Like diving underwater to look at my cock?”

  I’m as red as a beetroot in seconds, like someone’s just pushed a button on the back of my neck.

  “I can’t help it if it’s so big I can hardly see anything else.”

  He’s trying to hold that intense gaze without smiling, but is clearly struggling.

  “I told you the water was cold.”

  “Then you’d better not do anything to exert yourself.”

  “One day.”

  “One day, what?”

  “I give you one day”, he says.

  “Are you changing your wager?”

  “I’m impressed you’ve managed to resist for so long. It must be hard for you.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “You’ll enjoy the relief then.”

  “And you’ll enjoy retirement.”

  “I will with you by my side.”

  “Maybe I’ll even swim naked with you then.”

  “We can only dream.”

  Several intense moments pass us by, while I refuse to admit to doing what is obvious already we both want. I could have kissed him in the water, and we could be fucking now and whatever, sliding doors, but it would have been what he wanted to happen, or expected to happen, and I’m not going to let him get it that way, nor for it to happen that way. It’ll happen how I want, when I want, and certainly not right now, here, on this boat no matter how hard he’s glaring at me.

  “Storm’s coming.”

  “You already said that.”

  Alex gets urgently to his feet.

  “No, look, look out towards the horizon. It’s coming in faster than I thought.”

  There isn’t anything out on the horizon other than a hint of gray cloud that could just be where the sea merges with the sky.

  “We might have to head back”, he says.

  “You’re just upset I didn’t kiss you.”

  “No, seriously, we don’t want to get caught in this. And I’m upset you didn’t kiss me.”

  That last comment makes me smile. It means that he’s mine whenever I want him, or, at least, he’s mine as long as he’s happy to wait for me to get myself ready.

  “Maybe I need a bit longer to see if I want to”, I say.

  “Or a bit longer to admit it.”

  Alex tries to start the engine, but nothing happens. I know nothing about boats and storms and whatever, but I get the impression that now his plan hasn’t worked, he’d much rather be back home than out here. Not much has changed, but he seems awfully eager to get away all of a sudden. Again he tries the engine, but it doesn’t respond.

  “It’s not working”, he says.

  “What do you mean it’s not working?”

  “It’s not working. It won’t turn on.”

  I stand up and go over. Alex looks more concerned than I like to see.

  “Well try again.”

  “I tried again.”

  He tries for a third time but nothing happens. There is a dead sound when he turns the key. No put-put-put, no nothing. It’s as if no engine exists there.

  “That’s not good.”

  “Alex, stop fucking around.”

  “Believe me, I’m not fucking around, I wouldn’t.”

  “Are you doing this to get back at me?”

  “No, I promise. This has never happened before.”

  “How long have you had the boat?”

  “A year, maybe a bit more.”

  “And when was the last time you took it out?”

  “A couple of months ago.”

  “So what do we do?”

  He tries the engine again and the same, nothing.

  “I don’t know. We wait, see if it fixes itself.”

  “And the storm?”

  “Wait it out.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “I hope so.”

  “What do you mean you hope so?”

  I’m beginning to get scared now.

  “Look, this boat is solid, we’ve got plenty of food, plenty of champagne and there’s a shower and a double bed, we’ll be fine.”

  “One double bed?”

  Alex nods.

  “Then I hope you don’t mind camping out in the rain.”

  Five.

  Alex

  Talk about a cock tease. Alright, I get that she doesn’t trust me - no idea how she’s formed that opinion in all honesty, but, whatever - and she’s had her heart broken a number of times, but I certainly wouldn’t have put her down as being that worried about taking a risk, especially with someone she admits she used to like.

  Maybe it’s not that at all, and I’ve completely misread it. Maybe she doesn’t like this older, newer version of me after all, or maybe she does, and she’s trying her best not to show it. If that’s the case, that’s some iron will. That’s some inhuman amount of restraint, especially because of the way she’s been looking at me. If that’s the case, fair play girl, game on.

  I have no idea what is wrong with the boat, but this is typical. I’m not exactly Mr Mechanic, even though Lucy is watching my every move with the kind of subtle, burning intensity that suggests she thinks that there is no reason why a man of my physique or simply because I’m a man, shouldn’t know his way around the engine compartment of a brand new computerized luxury speedboat/yacht hybrid.

  I have people to do this for me, or I would usually if they hadn’t left the island because of the storm, that isn’t supposed to be here yet and is. All I know how to do on this boat is push a button. When the result of pushing that button isn’t what is supposed to happen, I’m a bit lost. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to investigate, and it certainly doesn’t exclude me from solving the problem, it just means it might take time, and time isn’t really an option if the rain is already at the edge of our world and threatening to push its way in.

  Lucy offers well-meaning but largely unhelpful advice, the answers to which I just don’t have. She’s getting impatient, bored and a little bit scared, but there is literally nothing I can do about it. I check the gas levels, the batteries, the connectors, what I think is the starter motor, and I even swim underneath the boat to check the auxiliary propellers, but nothing. For now, we are stuck. For how long, is another question.

  “We should eat somet
hing, try again later”, I say, hoping it will placate her.

  “Will it work later?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I can already feel spots of rain and not once but twice the sky has been lit up by an almost imperceptible flash of light. If it comes in quick, it’ll go out quick too. The storm we are expecting is supposed to last two days, this could be another one entirely, or part of the main one just broken off in advance. Whatever happens, it isn’t safe working outside while it passes overhead so we head into the main compartment of the boat.

  “Don’t worry, Lucy. It’ll pass.”

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  Worst comes to the worst and we can’t start the engine, we’ll overnight here and get someone to come out in the morning. We’re more exposed here than I’d like, but at the moment it isn’t life threatening. I’ve been out in storms before and the rocking of the boat is scary, but this thing is solid and it won’t tip up.

  I tell Lucy that but she doesn’t respond, either because she’s scared of what might happen or because she’s mad I haven’t been able to start the engine and get us back home yet.

  I make food and open some wine. If we’re stuck here, we might as well enjoy it. Lucy warms up a little with some food inside her. You never know, this might be fun. I know she wasn’t expecting it, but it might be just what we need.

  She’s looking at this whole me and her thing way too seriously for my liking. Way too seriously than is healthy to be a hundred percent honest with you. A kiss is only a kiss and a fuck is only a fuck, what happens afterward are the important things. I’m not going to mess her around, that’s not my style and I’ve already told her that, but if we both like each other, and I’m certain she likes me even if she’s refusing to admit it, what’s the issue with getting down and dirty? Ok, maybe we find out we’re not compatible, so what, at least we’ll have had fun working that bit out. If she’s just cutting off her nose to spite her face, deciding not to give it up because she doesn’t want me to be right, well that’s just childish.

  I’m not prepared to let her walk away either, not without openly admitting she doesn’t like me. She can vacillate all she wants, as long as she ends up coming back to me, what I won’t stand for is her being so proud she ends up refusing herself what she wants.

  And I’m in the same boat here. Literally and figuratively. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the long run, I just know I like her. I didn’t know I still would before I invited her here, and I do genuinely want her to write that article on me, but when she stepped onto my island it was like going back in time.

  I just need to work out how to get her into bed now, which shouldn’t be too hard for a man like me, with a storm coming, a bottle of wine on the table, and a compact double bed for us both to sleep in.

  After tonight is over, she may not want to go back to the house at all. She might not even want to get back to her real life.

  Lucy holds a thick juicy slice of sea bass out on her fork.

  “This is good”, she says.

  “Thank you.”

  “Where did you learn to cook?”

  “I’m a man of many talents.”

  “I can see you think that.”

  I pour wine and Lucy appreciates how it warms her belly.

  “I think you’re going to like being out here when the storm passes. I was going to suggest we did it one night but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  “Because that would be right out of character for you?”

  “Because there’s only one bed.”

  “Any more and I’ll be convinced you’re trying to seduce me.”

  “You already know that. I’m just not being successful.”

  “What does that feel like?”

  “What does it feel like not to succeed?”

  Lucy nods.

  “It makes me even more eager to win next time around”, I say with a cocky smile.

  This time, she smiles too. While the boat undulates gently from side to side and rain patters against the window, a hint of the ferocity I know is soon to follow, Lucy smiles and Lucy relaxes.

  “I want to know you”, she says.

  “Good.”

  “I mean, I want to anyway, but I need to if I’m going to write about you, and that doesn’t mean, before you get the wrong idea, I want to know you immediately like that.”

  “You know the only way you can do that is to spend time with me.”

  “Ask the right questions.”

  “Feel the answers.”

  “You’re more cryptic than I thought you would be. Much more poetic.”

  “What did you think I’d be like?”

  “Driven, lacking self-awareness, a bit of a dick. A huge dick actually.”

  “Well, let’s not beat around the bush.”

  “Why are you shutting yourself away?”

  A flash lights the sky by the side of us and brings with it a sheet of rain that sounds like pebbles being tossed against the window. It isn’t enough of a distraction for Lucy to forget the question she has asked me, though.

  “People don’t like me”, I say eventually.

  “Why don’t people like you?”

  “Because they see the guy I am on the field and the guy I used to be in the press and they make up their mind.”

  “You weren’t exactly likable.”

  “Nobody likes someone like me.”

  “And how is someone like you?”

  “A born winner.”

  “Now that is arrogant.”

  “It’s the truth. If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s win. Fixing boats is another thing entirely.”

  “At least you’re funny.”

  “I’m not meant to be funny.”

  “I know, but you are. I like it. It shows a fragile side to you.”

  “I’m not meant to be fragile either.”

  “No, but we all are.”

  “If I am, I lose.”

  “On the field.”

  “In the game.”

  “Not with me.”

  “I’m not sure I can fix broken hearts either.”

  “Then make sure you don’t break mine.”

  I pour more wine. Lucy finishes the sea bass and I bring salad and potatoes.

  “You have everything here. If I was even more cynical than I already am, I might think you’d contrived this to happen”, she says.

  “Even for me that would be a stretch too far.”

  “We’re not going to suddenly find the engine working after you’ve lured me to bed?”

  I think Lucy notices the faux pas too late and then tries to hide her blushing by holding her wine glass with two hands in front of her face. I’m not going to let her off the hook so easily.

  “We’re not going to look after I’ve lured you to bed”, I say.

  “I meant-.”

  “Don’t worry, this isn’t some elaborate plan, however, after I’ve lured you to bed, and you’ve refused countless times theatrically and then finally given in, and we fuck, spectacularly, of course-.”

  “Because there is no other way?”

  “-Because there is no other way, if, then, after that wonderful moment, all the stars of the northern hemisphere above us in their glory, the boat gently lilting from side to side, a smattering of rain all that’s left of the storm-.”

  “Oooh, please, don’t stop.”

  “-If I then happened to check the engine and found it able to work at that moment, because of some weird unforeseen and unexplainable coincidence, promise you won’t hold it against me.”

  Lucy narrows her eyes.

  “If that happens, all of that. I’m going to check the engine myself”, she says.

  “Deal.”

  “This could be a long night.”

  “I’m glad you’re finally showing some belief in me.”

  Suddenly, a thunderous whip of sound cracks the sky above us and shocks Lucy so much she screams and drops her wine glass. Wh
ile she’s frantically apologizing and hunting for something to mop it up, the skies open up and empty a deluge of water on top of us that feels like Poseidon’s wave.

  Right now, the storm is about to hit us and Lucy’s eyes couldn’t be any wider.

  Lucy

  I am genuinely fucking scared. Four years at college in Louisiana, none of which time I even set foot in the water.

  I hate flying, I hate danger and I hate boats, probably even more than anything else. Alright, when a boat is doing nothing more than sitting on the top of the water I can handle it, but when it’s rocking from side to side like a cork in a washing machine, so much water hitting the roof and plate glass around us I can’t tell whether it’s from the rain or a biblical size wave, the sky opening up, first with forks of lightning that look like the world’s cracking in half, followed by thunder louder than any noise I’ve ever heard, I’m inclined to shit myself, just a little.

  Alex, on the other hand, looks so comfortable he could be enjoying it. I stumble from side to side if I get up, feel even worse if I try and sit down.

  “Are you alright?” he asks.

  “No, I’m not fucking alright.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  It doesn’t feel like it’s going to pass. I’ve seen films with people in this same situation and it never ends well. One minute you’re enjoying a lovely sunbathe and a swim in calm blue waters, the next, it feels like someone has transported you to the tempestuous waters at the gates of hell. Seriously. I’ve seen rapid weather changes before, but this? Nothing like this.

  The boat creaks, shudders and threatens to split right open. Why the fuck does the engine not work? Who’s fucking idea was it anyway to come out here when a storm was due and why is Alex just sat there, glass of wine still in his hand looking at me like I’m a mad woman?

  I could be literally anywhere else. We could be in his mansion on the island. We could be at one of his several other residences. We could even be at mine, drinking wine, chatting, flirting with each other, passing the time. Instead, we’ve got to be here hoping we don’t die.