Chapter 168
**Sara**
The yacht slowed as we approached the dock. Tom's hands hadn't left my body since our heated exchange, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
"We should probably look presentable before we dock," I whispered, trying to smooth down my wind-tousled hair.
"Hmm." He nuzzled my neck. "Why? We're newlyweds, remember? Looking disheveled is expected."
I swatted his wandering hands. "The yacht staff might disagree."
"My yacht, my rules." But he stepped back, straightening his shirt with a wink.
The boat - sorry, yacht - glided into its berth. One of the deckhands rushed to secure the lines while another extended the gangway. He helped me onto the dock, his hand lingering on the small of my back.
"Mr. Blackwood," the dock manager called out. "Everything to your satisfaction?"
"Perfect as always." Tom's professional tone contrasted sharply with how his fingers drew circles on my hip. "Though the starboard engine seemed a touch loud?"
"We'll have maintenance check it right away, sir."
I bit back a laugh. Even while half-aroused and pretending to be a newlywed, he was still the perfectionist yacht owner.
We returned to the resort, the late afternoon sun warming my shoulders. Tom's hand kept drifting lower, making me squirm.
"Behave," I hissed, though I couldn't stop grinning.
"I am behaving. Like a man madly in love with his new wife."
"Is that what you call groping me in public?"
"Would you prefer I stopped?" His hand stilled.
I grabbed it and placed it firmly back on my hip. "Don't you dare?"
When we walked in, the lobby was bustling with new arrivals. He steered us toward the elevators, but we got caught behind a family wrestling with too many suitcases.
"Fourth floor," the father announced to his kids as they piled in.
He pressed the button for the top floor, pulling me close. The elevator stopped at every. Single. Floor.
By the time we reached our suite, His patience had evaporated. He barely got the door closed before pushing me against it, his mouth hot on mine.
"Finally," he growled, lifting me. My legs wrapped around his waist automatically. "Do you know how hard it was keeping my hands off you in that elevator?"
"Poor baby." I rocked against him, drawing out a groan. "Having to behave in public like a normal person."
"There's nothing normal about how you make me feel." Tom's lips traced down my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse point.
"Is that good or bad?" I breathed, arching into him.
"Definitely good." His hands gripped my ass, kneading the flesh as he ground against me.
I gasped at the delicious friction. "Ohhh yeah."
My head thumped against the door when he kissed me harder, his tongue delving into my mouth. I met him stroke for stroke, our breaths mingling.
Tom's hand left my ass to slide down, his fingers tracing the hem of my dress. I shivered in anticipation, already aching for his touch. Slowly, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, his palm caressing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
"Tom..." I breathed, arching into him.
He chuckled lowly, his lips brushing against mine. "Impatient, aren't we?"
Without warning, his fingers slipped beneath the delicate lace of my panties, finding my slick folds. I gasped, my hips rocking against his hand as he stroked me with maddening precision.
"Ohh, you're so wet for me, Sara," he murmured, his thumb circling my sensitive bundle of nerves.
I could only whimper in response, my body alight with sensation. Every nerve ending seemed to be focused on the exquisite pressure of his touch.
Just when I thought I might unravel completely, he withdrew his hand, leaving me bereft. I whined in protest, glaring at him.
"What's the matter?" His grin was downright sinful. "Didn't you enjoy that?"
"You know damn well I did." I ground against him, eliciting a hiss. "Now stop teasing and finish what you started."
"As tempting as that is, we actually have somewhere to be."
I blinked, momentarily confused. "Where?"
"Couple's massage, remember?" He pecked my lips. "Can't have our fellow 'newlyweds' thinking we're neglecting the perks of our cover story."
I groaned, letting my head fall back against the door. "Seriously? You stop in the middle of that to go get a massage?"
"Ah, ah." He wagged a finger at me. "Not just any massage. A couple's massage. Meant for us to enjoy together."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're always doing this. Getting me all worked up, then stopping in the middle."
"What can I say?" He grinned. "I like to keep you on your toes."
I swatted his chest, though I couldn't quite hide my smile. "Fine, but you're making this up to me later."
"Oh, I plan to." Tom's voice dropped an octave, sending shivers down my spine. "In great detail."
We managed to make ourselves presentable—barely—before heading to the spa. The receptionist greeted us with knowing looks that made my cheeks burn.
"Couple's massage?" She checked her tablet. "Right this way."
The massage room was dimly lit, with two tables positioned side by side. Soft instrumental music played in the background, and the air smelled of lavender and something exotic I couldn't place.
"Please undress to your comfort level and lie face down under the sheets," she instructed. "Your therapists will be in shortly."
As soon as she left, Tom slowly started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Stop that." I turned away, but not before catching his smirk.
"Stop what? I'm just following instructions."
"You know exactly what you're doing." I slipped behind the privacy screen to undress, hearing his low chuckle.
"Can't a man appreciate his 'wife'?"
I peeked around the screen. "Not when he's being a tease."
He had already settled onto his table, the sheet riding dangerously low on his hips. His back muscles rippled as he adjusted the face rest, and I had to force myself to look away.
I quickly stripped down to my panties and wrapped myself in the sheet before climbing onto my table.
"You're wearing too much," he murmured, his head turned toward me.
"And you're not wearing enough." I settled onto my stomach, letting the sheet slip slightly off my shoulder.
A knock interrupted whatever response he had planned. Two massage therapists entered - both women, thank god. The last thing I needed was some hunky masseur putting his hands all over me while Tom watched.
"I'm Amy, and this is Rachel," the taller one said. We'll be your therapists today. Are there any areas you'd like us to focus on?"
"Lower back," I said while Tom said, "Shoulders."
The massage started innocently enough. Amy worked on my shoulders first, her skilled hands finding knots I didn't even know I had. I melted into the table, sighing contentedly.
Then I heard Tom's sharp breath from beside me.
I opened one eye to see Rachel working on his lower back, her hands disappearing beneath the sheet. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and I knew exactly what he was thinking about.
I let out a soft moan as Amy hit a particularly sensitive spot. Tom's head snapped toward me, his eyes dark.
"Is the pressure okay?" Amy asked.
"Mmm, perfect." I stretched languorously, making sure the sheet slipped a little lower.
Tom's knuckles turned white as he clenched the table tightly.
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