Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [84]
“Sometimes less is more.” He laughed softly, referring to her reaching two climaxes and a third shared together. “I needed to be with you last night, lass. You’re under my skin, in my blood. Desire is too mild a word for what you evoke, provoke, conjure within me—and it crawled under my flesh until I couldn’t think. I was nothing but a caged tiger prowling my room, a beast wanting its mate.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking gently. Those piercing eyes drank in her countenance as if he beheld the most rare and treasured thing in his life.
It wasn’t a declaration of love . . . but it would do. For now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Just before lunchtime, Liam finally reversed the speedboat out of the boathouse and slowly pulled into the current, positioning the bow upstream. He’d just spent the better part of an hour showing off the numerous bells and whistles of his ‘toy’ to Jago.
The black Crownline 255CCR pleasure boat was small enough to navigate the river for skiing, yet was a dream for outings because it provided all the comforts of home: a head compartment with shower, sink and vanity; a small refrigerator and microwave; a stereo, MP3 player, DVD and satellite dish. The backbench where Netta and Asha sat could convert into a sundeck, and even had a built-in cooler.
With the smile of a proud papa, Liam ended his spiel about its fabulous wonders with, “And, no, you can’t buy my boat, Jago.”
They all laughed, but Asha didn’t blame her brother. Jago’s eyes held a covetous twinkle—the same hunger he had shown when he looked at his Shelby and the Harley.
Grinning wickedly, Jago flicked the ashes off a Swisher Sweet and pointed out, “But the boat matches the car and bike. All three are solid black.”
“Ah—fortunately, my horse isn’t black.” Liam lifted his eyebrows, and then spun the wheel, moving the powerful boat into the middle of the swift river.
Tossing away the half-smoked cigarillo, Jago settled into the Tri-Tech bucket seat across from him. “I don’t mind. In the horse’s case—my horse—I’ll make the exception. Besides, his name is Thor’s Thunder. I’m partial to riding thunder.”
His eyes flashed, speaking a silent message to Asha. She rolled her eyes.
“Men and their toys,” Asha grumbled under her breath, watching her brother show off the controls to Jago.
Netta gave a bored smile. “You said it, sugarplum.”
Liam gunned the boat’s engine, and it was just sit back and enjoy. The twenty-five-foot cuddy was a smooth ride, even when the water level was up, as it was now. The powerful engine could easily rip along at sixty mph Doing that speed in a car and in an open boat were two different things, to Asha’s way of thinking. Fortunately, Liam took pity on Netta and her, and kept the pace down to around forty. Even so, the air almost pounded her.
Asha shifted on the bench, feeling as though they were flying down the waterway. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and reveled in the sheer beauty of the October day. Gorgeous, with near-summertime highs—a record, according to the radio—everything seemed conjured to make their outing on the river faultless. She soaked up the warmth, knowing there wouldn’t be many more days like this before cold weather came.
Childhood memories of coming to the lock sifted through her mind. Of course, in comparison, everything seemed much bigger then. The cliffs were higher, the river wider and deeper, and the falls over the weir surely closer to Niagara. Strange, the perspective you have of the world when you’re small.
The water was high and rather muddy after the recent rain. She noticed Liam kept a sharp eye out for any debris, which might not show, hidden just under the surface. So far, it wasn’t proving to be a problem.
She had to admit that her brother was playing nice with her pretty man, even letting him drive the boat—which meant the trip to the dam was taking three times as long. Near the last bend before reaching the falls, Liam just had to show off and permit Jago