Toy Boy by Lily Harlem Page A

too much sun on your head,” he said. “Easy to forget out here when the wind is cooling you.”
    “I might sit under there,” I said, pointing to the seats in the shade.
    “Go for it, put your feet up.”
    Holding on to the table, I sat down. Instantly, I felt more secure and my racing heart steadied.
    Sullivan was busy again. “Stay sitting,” he said. “I’m tacking.”
    “What?”
    “Shifting our position, the boom will switch over the top here.”
    I glanced nervously through the gap between Bimini and upper deck. “Okay.”
    Sure enough, the length of metal slid overhead. Big and heavy, it came to a halt at the opposite side of the stern.
    “That’s it,” he said. “We’re going in the right direction now.” He studied me. “Hey, you okay?”
    “Yes, fine.”
    “Sure?”
    “Yes. I’m loving it.”
    He grinned and looked out to sea.
    He had his hands on the wheel, his bare feet placed hip width apart, and his swim shorts sat low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing strip of body hair that led from his navel to his waistband.
    I recalled the feeling of being pressed up against him and feeling his arousal, his need for me. A shiver of longing went through me. He was right—he was all man, nothing boyish about him. Not from what I’d felt anyway.
    “You could go sit at the bow,” he said, pointing to the front of the boat. “I’ll keep her steady while you get there. The boom won’t move anymore.”
    “Will it be okay? Sitting there?”
    “You’ll love it. That’s where I used to sit when my father took me sailing when I was a kid. Grip the rails and sit with your feet dangling over the edge.”
    The front of the boat looked steadier now. We were no longer leaning, just skimming along the surface of the water. “Okay, I’ll try anything once.”
    “That’s what I like to hear,” he said then laughed. “And I’ll hold you to it.”
    The sexy look he gave me sent a shimmy of lust over my skin. Damn, if just him looking at me like that was pleasurable, imagine if….
    I peeled off my T-shirt, stood and made my way to the front of the boat. I held on to whatever was nearby, stepped past the skylight that opened into my room and sat.
    A metal like rope circled the boat, and was slim and perfect to grip at chest height.
    I let my legs dangle toward the water. The red of my toenail polish glinted in the sun.
    Instantly, tiny splashes powered up, coating my soles and my ankles in sea spray.
    “You didn’t tell me I’d get wet,” I called, smiling.
    “It will cool you down.”
    I reached for my hair tie, pulled it loose and let my hair fly out behind me. I felt a million miles away from the lecture hall. Business strategy and management belonged in a different lifetime. Right now was all about sea, spray and Sullivan.
    And sex.
    I turned to look at him.
    He was watching me.
    “Do you like it?” he asked.
    “Love it.” I looked at the water again, splashing under my feet.
    Sex.
    Damn, I wanted some.
    I could almost feel his gaze on me. He’d made no secret of the fact he found me as desirable in person as he had during our online relationship.
    And there was no denying that I thought he was hot as hell—too hot, too gorgeous for me.
    But maybe that was shallow. It was him as a person I’d fallen for, and that hadn’t changed. Even though he was model material—beautiful, the stuff of fantasies—it didn’t change who he was inside, just the way it wouldn’t have if he’d been older or physically less than perfect.
    Sullivan was every bit as caring as I’d expected him to be and as kind and considerate in real life as he’d always been in emails and on the telephone. He was special, there was no doubt about it. An exceptional young man with a good heart.
    Young man.
    I tightened my grip on the rail as my heart swelled. I’d believed, before I’d come to Greece, that I was in love with him.
    Could that really switch off just because of our age gap?
    Was I still in love with