In Over His Head

Chapter 18

Content warning: sexual scenes

The banged-up metal motor boat that Kevin had borrowed from a local fisherman rumbled slowly around the corner of the point, revealing a small cove ringed by short cliffs. The outboard motor stuttered and went silent as they floated in towards what looked to be a flat spot in the rocks, and Kevin expertly hopped out and grabbed the rope tied to the bow.

The cove was empty, the bright blue water lapping in with a gentle swish, tumbling up over the edges of the sun-bleached rocks in places, gulls calling as they swooped in and out. It was peaceful and quiet compared to the marina and the bigger waves out on the water they had powered through, salty spray spattering over her as she sat in the boat.

"This is so close to Naples, how is it empty?"

"I made a call. I used to come here when I was younger, and the owner of that giant mansion up there owes me a favour," Kevin said, pointing up the cliff to a large glass-front house overlooking the cove.

"Can they see us?" she asked. Kevin shook his head and grinned as he tied off to a rusty metal spike.

"Nope. Not back there under the overhang." He grabbed the cooler that Frieda had given them, hefting an enormous bag stuffed with what looked to be a blanket next. Then, as she sat bobbing in the boat, he held out a hand to her. She stepped up onto shore against him after grabbing her small string bag, and he circled her waist with one arm.

"Bella donna, welcome to a little piece of paradise," he whispered comically in a fake Italian accent. He leaned in, brushing his lips along her jawline. "You looked so stressed after our jaunt into Naples, I thought some play was in order, rather than just retiring to a room."

The sun had given him a bit of colour across his nose and cheeks, his hair rumpled and wind-tossed from the boat ride. With his open linen shirt and boat shorts, he looked like a man straight from some sort of Mediterranean romance. She leaned into his caress, exposing her neck and he kissed along her pulse point, a rumble of a groan pulling her forward.

"I was," she breathed.

"Let's sit then," he replied and pulled her forward. They walked carefully along the rocks to what looked to be a small cave to one side, and Kevin put the blanket down, tugging several pillows from the bottom of the bag. The cooler had wine, glasses, and some Friselle bread, a knob of butter wrapped in wax paper, bruschetta mix, cheeses and what Sharla hoped was her favourite deli meat of all time, mortadella.

The rock was warm as she lowered down beside him, staring out the mouth of the cove, the light hazy blue of the sky merging with the deep aqua blue of the water, framed by the jumbled grey and tan rock edges. It was beautiful and calming and she took a huge breath in then out, leaning back and flexing her shoulders to loosen the tension.

He was right, this was a good idea. Especially with him, sitting right there, sexy as fuck and currently pouring the bottle of wine they had brought back today into two blown glass tumblers with flat bottoms. The win sparkled through the bubbled glass, and Sharla held it up to the sun, enjoying the gorgeous deep red colour.

"Let's drink to relaxation then," he said.

"Relaxation," she repeated back as he handed hers over, brimming full. She took in the aroma from the wine, deeply earthy and tannin-rich. Her first sip was heaven, and she closed her eyes to let it flow over her tongue before swallowing. Tipping her face back to the sun, she shook her hair back.

Yup. Heaven.

She opened her eyes back up to him watching her, an unreadable expression across his face. He took a sip of his own glass, and then switched his gaze out over the water.