Matchmaker 06: June

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I am letting them take advantage of me."

She rose and held my gaze. "They are. You told me you haven't had a vacation in fifteen years. You still haven't." She stretched up and caressed my lips with hers. "I want you to do something for me. Will you do it?"

"If I can. What?"

"The next time work calls, after you solve the crises du joir, tell them not to call you again. We only have a week left together, and I don't want to share you with work. Will you do that for me?"

I paused, thinking about her request. She was asking a lot. Dad had never taken a vacation, as far as I knew, and the only reason he'd allowed me to take a month off was I'd promised to call in every day. I'd dutifully taken every call for three weeks, but dammit, I deserved a vacation if I wanted one. It was only a week, now, before I'd be back to work.

"Okay. I'll do it."

She smiled as she kissed me softly on the lips while caressing my face. "Thank you."

"You're right. If they can't make it a week without me, there needs to be some changes made."

Her smile made my heart beat slightly faster. "I'm sure we can think of something to do with the extra time."

I wrapped her up and rolled, pinning her to the bed with my weight. I'd felt a twinge as we tumbled, both in my ribs and a bit lower. "I'm sure," I rumbled as I slowly took her lips.

Things were just getting interesting when my phone rang again. She recognized my work ringtone as easily as I did. "Don't answer it," she whispered, holding my lips to her neck.

I pulled away from her. The fact that she didn't want me to answer the call when before she didn't care was more evidence things had changed between us. "It won't be but just a second. Plus I have to tell them to fuck off."

She smiled as I tumbled away from her and reached for the phone. "Shelby."

"Mr. Rockford," Janice said, "I'm sorry to bother you again so soon, but your father wants to talk to you."

"Put him on."

"Shelby, what's going on with the tire design? I just found out the design is behind schedule and isn't going to be ready for two more months."

"Yeah, so?" I asked as Genny snuggled against my back and began kissing my neck and slowly caressing my cock. She was making it extremely hard to concentrate.

"So, we're spending eight hundred million dollars on this idea of yours, and I don't want any hitches."

"What hitches? The design team assured me they'll have the preliminary designs ready well before we take possession of the plant. Until we have the plant to build the tires for testing, they're just computer models, so what difference does it make if they're running a little behind? That's why I pushed so hard to get our design team up and running so early, for situations like this."

"I don't like things falling behind schedule when this much money is on the line. The tire design was supposed to be finalized this month."

"I told you, we're not behind schedule. If anything, we're slightly ahead. The initial design deadline was simply our best guess. Because we're starting from scratch on this, I built extra time into the schedule." I turned my lips to Genny, and she kissed my lustily.

"You need to get a handle on this."

It was torture, but I pulled my lips from Genny's. "It's handled," I said, my tone making it clear I didn't like him questioning my competence.

"I don't think it is. This is the shit that happens when you start fucking off."

My annoyance began to rise. "When we did this deal, you said it was my baby and I had to make it happen. So let me handle it."

"That's just it," he seethed. "I'm not sure you are."

"Trust me, I am. In fact, I'm so confident everything is under control I'm taking this last week off. No more phone calls."

"Bullshit!" Dad spat, drawing out the first syllable. "You're not—"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Shelby, Goddammit, don't you hang up the fucking phone! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me is you questioning my competency."

"I'm not!"

"No? Then why did you tell me I had to handle this not ten seconds after I told you everything is under control? Why are we even having this conversation? You made it clear this was my project and you wanted nothing to do with it."

"Because we're spending a shit-load of money and you're off in Bumfuck, Georgia, screwing around, when you should be here making sure this deal goes through smoothly."

"Goodbye, Dad. See you in a week."

"Shelby, Godda—" was all I heard before I hung up.

The phone rang again almost immediately, Dad's number on the display. I switched the phone off. I'd call Janice later and have her cancel the rest of my daily phone calls. I smiled at Genny.

"How's that?"

"Well," she began with a smile, "you didn't tell him to fuck off, but I think he got the idea."

"He's going to be pissed when I get back."

"Do you care?"

I took her face in my hand, drawing her lips close to mind. "Not enough to keep wasting time with work when there are other things that I want to do."

"Like what?" she breathed, her lips a hairbreadth from mine.

I covered her lips with mine in answer.

Shelby piloted Banshee down the narrow channel to Schooner Creek as I sat in the chair beside the pilot console. I was wearing my bikini today, the same swimsuit I'd been wearing when that asshole Kevin had shown up.

I was engaged in a little skullduggery. I'd packed us a lunch and suggested we take the boat out one last time before we left. He thought I wanted to drive it again, and I did, but that wasn't the only reason I wanted another ride on the boat. We only had three days left before our time together came to an end, and I wanted to wring as much enjoyment out of our last few days as possible.

I glanced at him as he stood at the wheel, concentrating on his piloting. The tide was out, making the channel narrow and almost too small for the boat. Standing there, shirtless, his skin glowing with his sweat, he was possibly the sexiest man on the planet.

I'd been so fucking stupid! I'd been completely wrong about Shelby. He was anything but passive and weak, and I'd learned a valuable life lesson. Strength and passion and kindness and tolerance are not mutually exclusive. All the lovers I'd had in the past, the men who were arrogant and uncaring, weren't as strong as I thought, they were simply assholes. Now that I'd had my eyes opened, I realized Shelby's strength flowed through and surrounded him. He didn't have anything to prove to anyone, so he could let life's little slights roll off him. More than that, I was touched when he stopped to help an elderly woman load her car with groceries for no reason other than we happened to be there and he saw her struggling, trying to hold her cart while moving her items to her car. She'd been so thankful, and I could tell she'd been moved by his kindness. I had been too. I had to look away for a moment so he wouldn't see the tears welling in my eyes. He was the type of person I suddenly aspired to be.

While I now recognized Shelby for the person he was, I'd also learned that his gentleness as a lover was only part of his skills. I smiled as I looked away from him. I'd once dreamed of him ripping my clothes off and fucking me good. He hadn't ripped my clothes off yet, but Jesus Christ, had he fucked me good. When he'd fucked me for the first time after the fight, I'd learned he could be a fucking beast in bed. I'd been well fucked before, but I'd never been fucked like that.

Now that he knew I enjoyed a good pounding now and again, he'd stepped up and given me just what I wanted. When I'd first met him, I couldn't decide what I thought about his beard, but in the last couple of days, I'd decided it was deeply erotic as it tickled the inside of my thighs when he was licking and kissing me to face melting orgasms.

"Ready to take over?" he asked as he turned Banshee into the much wider Schooner Creek.

I grinned, my excitement at getting to handle the massively powerful boat bubbling through me. "Oh, yeah."

We switched places, and I carefully guided the craft, the engines barely above idle. As I steered, my thoughts returned to him, and I smiled. For the last several days, it seemed I did nothing but think of him. Good to his word, he'd not taken another call from work. Not that Rockford Tire hadn't tried, and we'd listened in amusement to the blistering, invective-laced messages his father left. Each time, he'd deleted them without comment. It had become almost a game. After we listened to his father's message, Shelby would delete the message, pull me to him, kiss me lustily, and begin stripping me bare before fucking me good, no matter where we were.

I smiled in memory, almost wishing his father would call more often. So far, after one of his father's enraged tirades, I'd been fucked in the kitchen, family room, game room, and most exciting of all, outside in the pool.

We'd had to cheat a little on that one. He'd listened to the message beside the pool, but because the neighbor's kids were playing in their swimming pool, we'd exercised a little discretion, dove into the water of our own pool and churned its water good. Thank God the kids were screaming in fun and excitement next door. Their noise helped cover my own sounds as Shelby rocked my world yet again.

As Schooner Creek began to widen, I bumped the throttles forward a touch, then a bit more, Banshee slowly picking up speed. As I turned the craft into Charleston Harbor, I waited until a smaller, slower boat loaded with Mom, Dad, and a pair of kids to motor past before I turned the boat toward the ocean and pushed the throttles to their stops.

Banshee howled its war scream as it leapt forward. I had to focus, the boat moving so fast I knew I could get into real trouble if I wasn't careful. We howled out of the harbor and into the ocean as I turned south, paralleling the coast a half-mile in the distance. I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't care. All that was important was being alone with Shelby.

It was all I could do not to laugh in excitement, the wind in our hair as we pounded along, the speed and power of the boat jazzing me up. Shelby thought I wanted a ride on the boat? I did. I planned to find a nice quiet spot to park the boat, and I was going to take him below and ride him until I was screaming and exhausted.

"What?" he yelled to be heard over the wind and the roar of the engines.

His call pulled me from my reverie, and I looked at him. "What, what?"

"You looked like you were about to laugh or say something."

He could read me so well, something he'd put to good use in the bedroom. "Nothing. Just enjoying myself."

We hit a wave unusually hard, the boat feeling as if it leapt into the air before landing back in the water with a hard thud. I'd learned to take those impacts with my legs, but that one shook me to my bones, and I grunted with the impact.

"I'm enjoying myself too," he said, staring pointedly at my breasts.

I snickered and quickly adjusted myself. The bikini wasn't as secure as my normal one-piece suit, and while I hadn't fallen out, the girls had gotten jostled by the collision with the wave.

Grinning like loons, we continued south. I saw an opening in the coast that looked promising, but by the time I noticed it we were almost past. I pulled the boat into an expansive looping turn and pointed its prow toward the inlet. When we got close, I pulled the throttles back and we motored into a wide river outlet. There were dozens of rivers, large and small, emptying into the small, harbor-like cove, and I picked the largest to follow.

"Where are we going?" he asked as I slowed further, Banshee burbling along.

"I have no idea. I'm looking for a quiet place to stop and have lunch."

The waterway was narrowing rapidly and becoming increasingly muddy. I lost my nerve, afraid I would get into someplace I couldn't get out of, and quickly spun the wheel, giving the boat a squirt of throttle to help it turn. When I had it pointed back the way we came, I chopped the throttles and switched off the engines. The silence was complete. Having grown up in Philadelphia, I still hadn't fully adjusted to how quiet places could be, the only sounds those of birds and softly lapping water.

"Ready for lunch?" I asked.

He smiled and wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. It had been relatively cool as the boat raced along, but now that we'd stopped, the heat was oppressive again. He must be miserable, but he never complained. Seeing him standing there, wearing nothing but his swim trucks, sweat beading on his skin, the drops trickling along the hills and valleys of his muscles, made me want to pant, and not just from the heat. I'd noticed how sexy he was the first time we met, but now that I truly knew him? I was like a little girl with a new toy, and all I wanted to do was play with it.

"Yeah. I could eat something."

Damn him! I almost shivered with the thought of him eating something that wasn't in the picnic basket stowed below. I smiled. "Yeah. Me too." I followed him below. The heat down in the hull was stifling. "Let's eat up on the deck. It's too hot down here."

"I can start the air conditioning."

"No. I want to enjoy the quiet."

He didn't groan, but I saw the dismay flash over his face. "Sure."

"Take the basket up and I'll bring the drinks."

We quickly transferred our lunch from the refrigerator to the basket. He picked up the basket and started up the ladder steps. I smiled as he disappeared. I didn't want him turning the air conditioning on down here because I had plans for later. I pulled two beers from the refrigerator and bumped it closed with a hip-check. I'd just finished opening the bottles when I heard the engines rumble to life. As my head popped out of the hatch, he was carefully steering the boat to a shady spot under an overhanging tree.

"Good idea."

As the boat glided to a stop under the tree, I began pulling out sandwiches and pickle spears. I'd planned our lunch carefully, selecting light dishes so as not to weigh us down. I handed him a beer and one of the chicken salad sandwiches.

"It's so quiet here," I sighed. "It's like we're the only two people on Earth. No place is this quiet in Philadelphia."

He nodded. "Yeah. I don't know how people live in the northeast. Bismarck isn't small..." he paused, clearly thinking. "Okay, compared to New York or Philadelphia, it's small, but it's big enough to have everything you want or need, but without all the people piled on top of each other."

"Sounds nice."

"It is." He wiped his forehead again. "And best of all, it's not so damned hot!"

I grinned. He was going to be a lot hotter later. "Yeah, but isn't it cold in the winter?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, but you can come inside to get warm. That's one of life's simple pleasures, coming into a warm house from the cold outside."

"And if you have someone to snuggle with..."

"Then it's even better."

I nodded slowly. As much as I liked a hot and sweaty tumble, cuddling up on a cold winter day in front of a fireplace did sound wonderfully romantic. I said nothing. My feelings were a jumble. In less than two weeks I'd gone from thinking he was a nice guy, but someone I didn't care about except for the part of him between his legs, to something more. I wasn't sure what the more was, and that was the problem. I hadn't had the time to sort out if he was still just someone to fuck or if he was becoming more than that.

There's not enough time! He was so damned sweet, except when I didn't want him to be, and then he was full of fire and passion. I couldn't tell if what I was feeling for him was because of how he treated me in the bedroom, or how he treated me out of it. Maybe it was both. I'd heard it said that men wanted a lady out of bed, but a whore in it. Maybe that was true for me. Shelby was a true gentleman out of bed, but a hard-fucking beast in bed. Except when I wanted him to be gentle. Then he was that.

There's not enough time! He was exactly what I wanted him to be, when I wanted him to be it, but he wasn't weak or passive or any of the things I thought he was. He was kind, caring, and easy going, completely different than all my relationships in the past. It was what I thought I wanted, what I thought I was looking for, and then when I'd found it, I didn't realize what that meant.

There's not enough time! I'd wasted so much time at the beginning. I hadn't realized what I was asking for, what being 'low maintenance' meant. After meeting Shelby, I'd first thought 'low maintenance' was synonymous for passive. I'd since learned that wasn't true, but now our time together was almost over. Two weeks ago, I would have kissed him goodbye in the airport and not have given him a second thought. Now, however, I've found I don't want to kiss him goodbye. I wanted to spend more time with him, to explore how I felt about him, but, Goddammit, there's not enough time!

"Genny?"

"What?" I asked, shaking off my thoughts.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

He grinned. "Because you zoned completely out there for a second."

I snorted. "Sorry. Thinking."

"About what?"

I waggled my hand in the air. "Nothing. I was ruminating on how much things have changed in the last couple of weeks."

He chuckled. "Ruminating. There's a word you don't hear often."

I smiled, the heavy mood from my thoughts evaporating. "Hey, I'm a writer. Words are what I do."

"And very well."

"You're sweet." I popped the last of my sandwich into my mouth and washed it down as I crumpled up the sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the basket. "That was good."

He nodded as he upended his bottle, draining the last of the contents. "Yes, it was."

I picked up the basket. "Bring the bottles?"

I carefully stepped down into the compartment below decks, Shelby close on my heels. I turned to him, taking the two bottles from his hand and placed them in the basket. I could have done that above deck, but I wanted him down here with me. I secured the basket back in the cabinet so it wouldn't fly around the cabin once we got underway.

"Nobody's called you in a couple of days," I sighed as I turned to face him, stepping in close.

It was probably well over a hundred degrees in the small cabin, but it was going to get a lot hotter before we were done. I stepped closer, pressing myself into him, his damp skin against mine revving up my desires.

"No. I think they've finally gotten the idea."

"Want to pretend they did?" I asked with a smile.

He held my gaze for a moment. "I'd love too."

He turned to start the generator so we'd have some air conditioning, but I captured his hand. "No. I want it like this."

"Hot?"

"Very," I purred, stretching up on tiptoes and offering him my lips.

He took them, and I could taste his sweat. I smiled out of the kiss, holding his hand and pulling him toward the small bed tucked into the bow of the boat. He was going to be sweating a lot more before I was done with him.

South Carolina was in the middle of a cold snap, with the temperature only reaching the mid-eighties, and it was cloudy, the late evening sun playing peek-a-boo with the clouds making it feel cooler than it actually was. That, or after almost a month, I was finally getting used to the heat and humidity.

The Chevy's V8 rumbled as we made our way north and west, on our way to Congaree National Park outside of Columbia, South Carolina, where we were going to see the synchronized firefly display. The display lasted only for a few weeks a year when a specific type of firefly began mating, and Congaree was one of the few places in the country where it happened. Normally, the fireflies synchronized in late May and early June, but they were late this year, allowing us to catch the end of the spectacle.