Piper tilted her head while staring at Brendan’s rippling back, wondering if he realized how hard he was about to get laid.

He’d woken up with a plan to try to slay her dragons . . . and he’d executed it. Nothing stood in his way. He’d even passed on sex so they could dig to the root of their issues, and God, that wasn’t just commendable. It was hot.

Captain Brendan Taggart was a man. A real one.

Her first.

And she could admit now that staying with him would mean giving up Los Angeles and the life she knew. But there was one root he hadn’t found despite all his digging: Who the hell would Piper Bellinger be if she stayed in Westport?

That was a problem for another time, though.

Hold her calls. Right now, she was one hundred percent sex brained.

First, Brendan showed her the engine room, and she nodded prettily while he explained what a thruster was for, commending herself for not giggling once. Then they went back upstairs to the crew room, the galley where they ate while on the water, and finally the bunk room. “Wow,” she murmured, observing the narrow beds tucked in tight against the walls. “Close quarters.” There were nine total, the majority of them stacked two beds high. Kind of like the bunk she shared with Hannah, but the boat’s beds were attached to the wall. Most of them had snapshots taped up beside them. Kids, women, smiling men holding giant fish in their hands. One had a slightly inappropriate calendar that made her snort.

“Sorry about that,” Brendan grumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s not mine.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Duh.” She tapped her lips with a finger and did a revolution around the small room, stopping in front of a bunk along the far wall, as separate from the others as one could get in such tight quarters. It was the only one that didn’t have a bed above it. “No, yours is this one. The bed without any pictures, isn’t it?”

He grunted in the affirmative.

“Do you . . . want a picture of m—”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Was she blushing? “Okay. That can be arranged.”

“Thank you.”

Piper approached her new boyfriend slowly, letting him see the intent in her eyes, and the green of his own deepened drastically, a muscle sliding vertically in his strong throat. She let just the tips of her breasts meet his chest. “Do you ever get alone time on the boat?”

“If I need time alone, I make it,” he rasped. “I’ve needed a lot of it lately.”

Which was as good as an admission that he’d masturbated on board while thinking of her. Feminine pleasure turned to slickness between her thighs. “Then, what about private pictures? Just for you.” She rubbed her breasts side to side, and his breath stuttered. “Would you like some of those?”

His eyelids went to half-mast. “God, yes.”

She bit her lip, stepped back. “Take out your phone.”

Brendan reached back and removed his cell from his back pocket, not taking his eyes off Piper once while opening his camera. Then he nodded once to let her know he was ready.

She’d always liked being the center of attention, but having this man’s undivided focus was thrilling in an entirely new way. Because her heart was involved.

Heavily, apparently.

It knocked impatiently against her ribs, echoing in her ears as she shrugged off the jacket she’d worn and hung it neatly on one corner of Brendan’s bed. The boat groaned and sighed beneath their feet as she skimmed her palms up the front of her body, over her breasts, squeezing, then coasting back down to collect the hem, slowly easing the garment up and off, leaving her clad in just a red denim skirt and ballet flats. She stacked her hands behind her head, dropped a hip, dragged her lower lip through her teeth. Let it go with a pop.

He exhaled a pained laugh, shook his head. “Fuck.”

“We’ll get to that.”

Brendan’s nostrils flared as he lifted the phone and set off the electronic shutter.

Click.

She unbuttoned her skirt next, turning around while lowering the zipper. With a flirty look over her shoulder, she let the red bottoms drop. Hannah had been pretty hilarious, not packing Piper underwear or a bra, but Brendan’s reaction to her bare backside was definitely worth any chafing that had occurred. Yeah, it was all forgiven when he took an involuntary step forward, his chest heaving. Click. Click. Click.

She braced a hand on the wall and leaned forward slightly, arching her back and swinging her hips to pop that booty out—CLICK—and that was all she wrote.

Brendan dropped the phone and crossed to her in one lunge.

He stooped down and picked her up, tossing her with a bounce onto his bed, covering her naked body with his fully clothed one, and slamming his mouth down on top of hers. And oh Lord, oh Lord, that contrast fired off flamethrowers in her blood. She was vulnerable and coveted and lusted after, and it was everything. Everything.

“This bed isn’t strong enough to survive what I’m going to do to you,” Brendan growled against her mouth, capturing her lips again in a kiss fraught with male sexual frustration. It let her know in no uncertain terms that she was the source and he’d be exacting revenge.

Take it. Take it.

Without breaking contact with her mouth, Brendan’s hand wedged down between them and wrestled his zipper down, the desperation of his jerky movements exciting her like nothing else, dampening the folds between her legs. “Hurry,” she begged, biting at his lips. “Hurry.”

“Goddammit, Piper, you make me so fucking hard.” They both pushed down the waistband of his boxer briefs, hands colliding, tongues stroking into each other’s mouths, Piper teasing, Brendan aggressing. Finally, his shaft was free, and he winced, sucked in a breath, wrapping a fist around the thickness of it. “Tell me you’re wet. Tell me to put it in.”

“I’m so wet,” she moaned, lifting her hips, running the insides of her knees up and down his heaving rib cage. “I’m ready. I need you. Rough as you can.”

That full, smooth dome pressed up against her entrance, and she braced, one hand flying to his shoulder, the other to the wooden bunk rail. And still she wasn’t prepared for the savagery of that first thrust. With a hoarse roar, his hips drove Piper up the narrow bed, his thickness invading all available space within her, and without allowing her time to acclimate, he was already pumping feverishly, rocking the bed with staccato squeaks.

Piper’s mouth was permanently wide open against his shoulder, her eyes watering with the force of pleasure. Pleasure from having his hard sex smacking through her wetness like it owned the joint, his calloused hands shoving her knees down, opening her wider for his convenience. Pleasure from having brought this vital man to his proverbial knees with need. God help her, she loved that. Knew he loved being challenged. Knew he loved that she loved challenging him. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“Scream for it, baby,” he panted, raking her ear with his open mouth. “Whine for my cock. No one can hear us.”

A lid came off inside of her, whatever was left of her inhibitions hopping out and running wild on tiny legs. She choked on her first attempts to call his name, because the force he was exerting on top of her was so intense, his huge body surging between her legs without cease—and still fully clothed while she remained bare. Why was that so sinfully hot?