“I can’t think of anything I want more,” he said before slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss that was as urgent as it was hungry. He drew her closer and thrust his tongue into her mouth.
Charity closed her eyes and gave in to his kiss. She looped her arms around his broad shoulders, loving the feel of his slick hard body as she ran her hands over his shoulders, down the dip of his spine, and finally ending on the swell of his tight ass. She gripped him firmly with both hands. He jerked in her grasp and she smiled against his lips before drawing her head back to peer up at him.
“Have I told you that I love your ass?” she teased.
A look of yearning flared in his eyes and he turned her away from the water spray before pressing her back against the wall.
“That’s my line,” he growled and caught her lower lip between his teeth when she tried to pout. “I’m going to have to punish you for that.”
Punish me! The wicked thought raced through her mind and fueled the ache in her core. She needed him now, pumping deep into her cunt as though their lives would end if he didn’t.
“Promise?” She tilted her head, reaching between them to take his erection in her hand. “I’ve been a very bad girl.”
She stroked the length of his shaft, adding the slightest amount of pressure until she reached the engorged head. She lowered her eyes and bit the corner of her lip upon seeing a milky drop of pre-cum beading at the tip. Without hesitation, she lowered to her knees and took his swollen cock into her mouth.
His hips jerked at the feel of her hot mouth encasing his shaft and he bit out a curse when she flicked her tongue against the tiny slit at the top. “Jesus, Cherry.”
The pleading in his voice only fueled her need to taste him. She took more of him into her mouth, laving his girth on the down stroke and sucking hard on the way up. Hot, salty, and smooth as fine satin, she savored the taste and feel of him. She heard his soft groans and felt his fingers entwine in her hair as she cupped his balls. She massaged them until they tightened in her gentle grasp. She wrapped her hand around his length and glanced up while licking her lips. Their gazes met. Hers wild and curious, his eager and filled with unspoken need.
Need.
He needed her.
Without saying a word, she released him and rose before turning. She placed her palms against the cool surface of the wall in invitation. She heard the shower door open, followed by the sound of a condom wrapper ripping open. She wiggled her ass, her body anticipating the first delicious thrust. She doubted she would ever tire of that. The feel of his engorged prick stretching and filling her, followed by the tantalizing friction of him pulling out and thrusting in again.
The thought made her belly tingle and her nipples ache. She twisted her head in time to see him toss the empty wrapper out of the shower and shut the door. Grasping her hip with one hand, he rested the other one on her back and gently urged her to lean forward.
She obliged and he rewarded her by nestling the head of his erection between her swollen folds. He pushed forward an inch, just barely in her pussy, but no further. A groan of frustration escaped her lips and she wiggled against him, trying to force him to take her all at once.
The hand on her back slid to her other hip and stilled her. “Not yet,” he said in a strained voice. “It’ll be better if we go slow.”
Was he insane? She was primed and ready to go and he wanted to go slow. She arched her back, her nipples brushing the cool tiles and a new wave of arousal washed over her.
“It’ll be great now. I promise.” She hated that she was begging, but she couldn’t help it. Her senses were on high alert, her nerve endings drawn so taut she feared they might snap if he didn’t ease the tension threatening to engulf her. “Please, Scott.”
He flexed his hips a bit, forcing his shaft deeper, but paused once again. She opened her mouth to plead with him one last time, when he reached around and grasped her breast. She leaned into him and moaned when he tugged at the sensitive bud.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to have him deep inside her as sure as she needed air to breathe. With what little strength she possessed, she pushed back and cried out when his cock sank all the way inside, filling her pussy completely.
Fingers tightening on her hip, he groaned and withdrew almost all of the way before driving forward again. The hand on her breast squeezed, the one on her hip dipped between her thighs to rub her engorged and sensitive clit.
At the first touch, Charity gasped and her knees quivered. The second stroke was softer, but just as intense. She shuddered and rocked her hips back against him. He pumped into her, the sound of their bodies meeting echoed against the steamy walls and stirred something deep and carnal.
“Is this what you want?” He gave a hard thrust. “Say it, Cherry. Tell me what you want.”
Yes, oh God, yes. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d craved. To have him tease, stimulate, and talk dirty to her until she couldn’t think or speak or breathe, just feel. She threw her head back, losing herself in the feel of him inside her, stroking her, loving her. Okay, maybe not that. Scott didn’t love her. For the moment, she was what he wanted and that was all that mattered.
“Yesss,” she hissed. “I want this. I want you to fuck me just like this.”
This was it. She felt the heat and tightening, her body demanding release and not wanting to topple over until she was sure he was right there with her.
Forcing her muscles to cooperate, she spread her legs wider and bit back a scream of pleasure as his shaft sank deeper. She placed her hand between their thighs to brush his tight sac with her fingers, the soft skin drenched from water and her slick juices. She knew he needed to come as badly as she did.
Scott sucked in a breath and leaned his forehead against her shoulder, quickening his movements. His erection swelled within her, his arms tightened, but his strumming fingers remained gentle as he gave her clit three more strokes that pushed her into a body-numbing orgasm.
Her body shook with the intensity of her release. He moaned her name, gave three final thrusts, and emptied himself into her.
Once the last of their spasms passed, Charity sagged against the wall. Her knees quaked and she almost slipped to the shower floor until Scott wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to her feet.
He turned her to face him and leaned her against the wall, pushing back a strand of her wet hair and pressing his lips to hers.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She swallowed and closed her eyes before shaking her head. “Yes. No. I mean, oh hell, I can’t think when you kiss me.” She opened her eyes and frowned at the laughter reflected in his eyes. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Would I do that?” He grinned at her pout. “Besides, I like kissing you.” As if to prove his point, he kissed her again.
“Stop that,” she protested and grabbed the bar of soap before shoving it into his hands. “Here. The water is going to turn cold if we don’t hurry.”
With a small sigh, Scott lathered the soap between his hands and turned toward the spray. Once his back was turned, Charity leaned her head against the wall.
It’s just sex. Scott doesn’t like relationships and I have a story to write. Just enjoy the cruise and thank him when it’s over. Easy breezy.
At least that’s what she told herself. Believing it, however, was proving to be a different story.
****
Scott had no idea what time it was when he woke. He glanced at the woman lying beside him and propped himself up on his elbow. Moonlight filtered in through the cracks in the drapery, illuminating Charity’s sleeping form. She was so beautiful. Her honey-colored hair fanned around her head like a halo, while her smooth pale skin glowed from their lovemaking.
His gaze slid to her full lips. Parted in sleep, they begged for his kiss and he willed himself not to lean over and do just that. She said she couldn’t think when he kissed her, but she failed to realize that when her tender lips touched his, he forgot e
verything, including his own name.
With a faint groan, Charity rolled to her side and he stilled. He didn’t want to wake her. He simply wanted to lie there and admire her.
And there was so much to admire.
She was no longer the timid overweight girl from his childhood. She was a grown woman with a supple curvaceous body that could make an intelligent man babble like an idiot. She’d certainly made him sputter more than once—and he’d grown up with her.
Perhaps her only disconcerting feature was her lack of confidence. She now wore clothing that showed off her body, so he was certain she knew she had the goods. But still she held back. Why?
He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek then paused. No, he couldn’t touch her. If he touched her, he would want to kiss her. If he kissed her, he would want to make love to her and, if he made love to her again, he would have a hell of a time walking away once the cruise ended. Not that he wouldn’t have a hard time now.
Get a grip, his subconscious whispered. She’s just a woman. You’ve had your fill, now move on.
That was the problem. He’d fully expected his desire for Charity to disappear once they’d had sex. But the instant he’d seen her body wet and sudsy with shampoo, lust slammed into him. When he felt the panic radiating from her, he’d been overwhelmed by the need to protect her—his own phobia be damned.
Scott sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed before scrubbing his palms over his face. He hated leaving her like this, but he didn’t see what choice he had. If he stayed, they would end up having sex again—not that he minded—but he didn’t want to mislead her.
He wasn’t the settling down kind of guy. He liked things short, sweet, and to the point. Bed them and leave them had always been his motto. But as he buttoned his jeans and glanced at Charity, his gut ached.
She deserved so much better than what he could offer. She deserved happily ever after, to have a man who came home every night and loved her the way she deserved. He wasn’t that man, though at the moment he wished like hell he was. Instead, he would leave and pray she didn’t hate him in the morning.
****
Sunlight pierced Charity’s closed eyelids and she groaned. She stretched out her hand, expecting to feel Scott’s warm body, but only found the soft fabric of the sheets. Opening her eyes, dread filled her upon seeing the empty spot where Scott should have been. He was gone and, judging by the coolness of the bedding, he’d been gone for a while.
Did you really think he’d stay? No, but she’d hoped. Hope that disappeared with the morning.
Or earlier. A chill gripped her at the thought. He’d probably waited until she’d fallen asleep before slipping out of her cabin. It only made sense and, in actuality, he’d been doing them both a favor. If he’d stayed, there would have been that awkward moment when they looked at each other and wondered what to say. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about it.
So if his departure was a good thing, why did his absence leave a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach? Simple. Scott hadn’t been the typical get-what-you-want-and-leave kind of lover. He’d been thoughtful and gentle, catering to her wants and desires and had even ignored his own fears to help her through hers. None of her previous lovers had done that. Many had laughed at her shower behavior.
Tossing the covers to the side, she sat up and ran her hands through her hair. It’s just sex. She kept repeating that mantra as she climbed out of the bed and padded into the bathroom.
Just the best sex you’ve ever had or ever will have. Ugh. What a depressing thought. The highlight of her sex life was a one-night stand with a man who hadn’t wanted to spend the entire night with her. Her brother was right. Sex between friends was entirely too complicated and she’d been a fool not to listen to him.
After a leisurely breakfast in her cabin—she hadn’t wanted to chance running into Scott—she booted up her laptop. Waiting for the welcome screen to appear, she leaned her head back against the headboard and glanced at the nightstand. Her eyes landed on the business card Michael had given her and a rueful smile tugged at her lips. Man, that had been entirely too close. She still couldn’t believe Scott bought that lame excuse she’d given him. A stab of guilt made her stomach flip-flop. Okay, so she’d lied. Given the circumstances, it was better than telling him the truth. Not that it mattered now.
With a soft grunt, she reached over to retrieve it and turned it over in her hands.
Call me for dinner…
Hilton San Diego Resort
Room 316
Would she call him? Pathetically enough, she probably wouldn’t. As handsome as Michael was, he wasn’t her type—rich, successful, polite, athletic, and boring. Not once during dinner had she heard him laugh or make a joke. A sense of humor was a necessity for any man she wanted to settle down with.
Scott has a great sense of humor. His striptease was proof of that. Then there was his comment about humor in the bedroom.
She replaced the card on the nightstand with a small sigh. No sense dwelling on things she couldn’t change. Even if she was lucky enough to get a repeat performance, which didn’t seem likely given what little she knew of the Heartbreaker’s reputation. Once her story hit the newsstands, he would hate her.
If she went through with it, that is.
After hearing that Scott would lose his job if the Captain found out about his escapades, she began to have second thoughts of using the Hedonna Heartbreaker angle for her story. Sure, she wanted to be taken seriously at the paper, but not at the expense of another person’s career. Especially if that person was someone she cared about.
She dropped her head back with a groan. Crap. She hadn’t wanted her old feelings for Scott to come back. She’d wanted to keep that door closed and simply enjoy a few days of earth-shattering sex, but no-o-o. Her stupid emotions had to come into play, just as they always did when it came to him.
She scrunched her face and kicked her feet on the mattress. “Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Taking a deep breath, Charity clicked the login icon. “I haven’t changed a bit.”
Even if she decided not to use the Heartbreaker as her feature, she still had to give Tom something. The only question was what? She opened the file containing her notes and bit her thumbnail. She reread her Fact section and, after throwing up a silent prayer for forgiveness, she began to type: A reliable source has confirmed that a crewmember is engaging in sexual relations with female passengers aboard the Hedonna. Though widely known among the female population, his encounters are discreet due to the fact that his discovery would mean immediate dismissal.
She lifted her fingers from the keyboard, feeling like scum. Technically, she hadn’t given Scott’s name, but she supposed it didn’t matter. What if the head of Fantasy Cruises read the article? Oh God. Everyone aboard the Hedonna would be on report, if not fired.
Just the thought of that happening made her nauseous. She couldn’t do that. If it meant spending the rest of her career throwing fish to penguins or writing about pirates groping her while she ate greasy fish, so be it. Tom would get his story, but she wouldn’t hurt anyone doing it.
With this mindset, she highlighted all of her notes regarding Scott and pressed the DELETE button. There. She’d done the right thing and, though she should feel good about her decision, she didn’t. Not really. The crewmembers were safe, but her career hung by a thread.
She had two days to find out everything she could about the Hedonna and its passengers. Up to this point, she hadn’t seen anything too out of the ordinary. Granted, Scott had done a remarkable job keeping her preoccupied. But while he’d been at work, she’d explored more of the ship, making idle chitchat with some of the passengers and watching some of the couples together.
Other than a few scattered couples caught up in a heavy necking session or the occasional naughty grope, nothing gave her the impression that Fantasy Cruises was anything other than what it claimed to be.
Shucking her robe, she strode to the dresser a
nd rummaged through the contents until she found the one and only pair of short-shorts she owned. She wouldn’t even have them if Emily hadn’t forced her to buy them, insisting they made her legs and ass look like a pinup queen. Though Charity highly doubted this, the compliment had been enough to convince her to make the purchase.
She held the shorts up and pursed her lips. Given how snug they were in the hips, panties weren’t an option. Her cheeks filled with heat, but she pushed her embarrassment aside. Sexual divas were not bashful about going commando.
She pulled the shorts on and buttoned them without further hesitation. Now for the shirt. Scott had said they were pulling into port today, so that meant a beach. She reached for the top she wore yesterday then paused. If she was going to wear her “sexy” shorts, why not go all the way? Opening the top drawer, she removed the black bikini top she’d purchased shortly before arriving at the pier the other day. Completing her outfit, she threw on a gauzy white blouse that she tied at the waist and slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops.
Satisfied that she looked the part, she ran a brush through her hair, added a bit of lip gloss to her lips, and examined her reflection. There was a glow about her, a dead giveaway that she’d experienced phenomenal sex the night before. Not that anyone would say anything, considering that was the whole point behind Fantasy Cruises.
Turning from the mirror, she grabbed her purse and shoved her keycard, notebook, and pen inside before heading to the door. She had a story to get, one she could feel good about writing.
Chapter Twelve
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Scott glanced up from his uneaten breakfast and frowned at Kathy standing next to his table, a big I-told-you-so grin spreading across her face. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before and, quite frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to hear her gloat.
He pushed his plate away. “Shouldn’t you be at the Cleopatra making the waitresses cry or something?”
Kathy lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and let out a soft whistle before pulling out the chair across from him and plopping into it.
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