Read Sweet: A Dark Love Story for Free Online

she hated the erotic mental image of him driving inside her body, and most of all, she hated it was that image that sent her flying over the edge.

Chapter Two
    After catching her breath, Kat got up from the sand and brushed it off her naked body as well as possible, grimacing at the uncomfortable lodging of small granules in intimate places. That was something she could add to her list of items she had no interest in ever doing again: Having sex in the sand. Struggling to block out the last few minutes, to forget how she’d almost caved and begged him for a moment as she had hovered on the edge of release, she picked her way carefully over the vegetation in the sand as she made her way to the boathouse.
    It was at the bottom of a steep incline, and she slid down it carefully, thankful for her sandals. At least he hadn’t taken those. As she reached the beach level, where the boathouse stood, she looked to the left and saw a rough set of stairs cut into the embankment. “Son of a…”
    She trailed off with a sigh, appreciating the fact that at least her trip back up the embankment would be smoother—assuming she had to make a trip up. If there was a way to get out of here, she intended to do so, even if it meant grand theft auto. Or grand theft nautical? Whatever the crime, it couldn’t compare to his crime of luring her here under false pretenses and attempting to hold her captive, could it? Surely not, though she shared Declan’s lack of faith in the justice system.
    She walked around the wooden structure for several minutes, peering in through the windows and trying the set of doors double doors at the back more than once. She didn’t approach the front, where water had collected and kept the boat afloat. Instead, she kept her exploration to the wooden platform sitting above the water. It was up on stilts, from what she could determine, so perhaps the boathouse wasn’t always filled with water.
    If she could get up early enough in the morning to beat the incoming tide, maybe she could slip underneath the boathouse and into the boat that way. Of course, she’d still have to figure out how to turn it on, drive it, and get it out of the boathouse before the tide came in.
    The thought of being trapped in the rising water on a boat that couldn’t sail out of the boathouse sent a chill through her, and it was purely an irrational fear of the water, but she couldn’t help the fear just the same. She didn’t have to be a genius to know where it came from, and she backed away carefully as irrational fear took hold of her, and she was suddenly convinced the ocean would come in much stronger than it currently was and sweep her out with it.
    She eased back toward the steps, taking three of them before she looked down again. As she surveyed the area, she realized the boathouse was built on an incline, and not near the water’s edge as she had thought. She wasn’t certain if water always remained in there, and perhaps she would feel braver about checking it out if she could get up early enough tomorrow.
    The whole structure seemed like an ingenious design when observed from a distance. One could enter the boathouse through the double doors, walk on the platforms she had observed from outside that also went around the boat in the interior, and get on the boat, which was fairly large, but not what she would call it a yacht—though she was certainly no expert.
    Once in the boat, there had to be another mechanism or lock on the inside that opened the other set of double doors in front of the boat, allowing the driver to follow the sluice of water downhill and into the ocean beyond. She wondered briefly how one got the boat back up, especially if the water wasn’t approaching at high tide, but as she examined from her perch, she saw a pulley system on the outside of the boathouse and assumed there was a hook below, probably anchored to something so it didn’t wash away. It most likely hooked onto the boat and allowed one