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Show Me the Ropes

Page 13

by Roz Lee


  Fallon slid the arch of her foot up his calf to his knee. Richard slipped a hand beneath her thigh and raised her until both legs wrapped around his hips. She shifted her weight off the wall and Richard staggered, losing his footing on the slippery tiles. His shoulder grazed the frosted glass door as he fought to regain his balance.

  He turned and Fallon’s feet hit the wall behind him. They bounced around the soaped slicked stall like marbles in a pinball machine, until they finally came to rest sideways against the far wall. They were both breathing hard from the experience, still intimately joined. Richard buried his face against her shoulder and laughed. The vibration shook his entire body and Fallon felt it deep inside her.

  “Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “Oooohh!” Richard flexed his hips and soon they were both laughing and making love at the same time.

  They dried each other between kisses and caresses. “I didn’t know shower sex could be so much fun.”

  “Fun? We almost fell through a glass door, but yeah, it was fun, wasn’t it?” Richard wrapped his sarong around his hips.

  Fallon secured her towel around her and stepped out of the small bathroom. “Look! The photo is here!” They’d been too preoccupied to notice the photo from the club had been delivered to her cabin.

  Richard slipped his arms around her from behind and peered over her shoulder. “It turned out good.”

  She stared at the photo. The photographer had captured her in the midst of orgasm. “Do I really look like that?”

  “Yes. You do.”

  “I’m. . . . ”

  “Beautiful? Sexy? I can’t look at that and not want to take you to that point again. Can you see now why I get so much satisfaction from giving you pleasure?”

  “I. . . I didn’t know. I wish you could see yourself when you come.”

  “What do I look like?”

  “Like this,” she pointed to the photo. “Only it’s more intense, more. . . something.”

  Richard’s hands dropped away and he stepped back. “It feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven, and I’m perfectly happy with the fact that I’m dead. It’s a good way to go.”

  Fallon turned and met his smile. “Well, don’t go expiring on me yet. I’m not through with you, not by a long shot.”

  “I can’t think of a better way to go than with my cock deep inside you.”

  “Me either, but let’s not be in any hurry.”

  “I’m not. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I’ve got to go. Vacation is nice, but as long as I’m onboard I’ve got responsibilities.”

  * * * * *

  Richard sifted through the stack of messages on his desk. Unless one of them was from a pirate captain demanding to board ship, he couldn’t care less. Fallon filled every crevice of his mind. He’d taken her back to her cabin, shared the crowded shower with her, which led to a slippery encounter that left them both laughing and sated. She’d insisted on using her own shampoo and the sweet apple scent still clung to his skin and made it impossible for him to concentrate on business.

  A couple of pink message slips caught his attention. No matter how distracted he was, the ship’s safety wasn’t something he could ignore. He considered their importance, and decided Sean and Drew could wait. If indeed they had found the saboteur, then she posed no danger to the ship. That left the summons from the Bridge.

  After a short conversation with Captain Whittier, Richard relaxed, confident of the crew’s ability to handle any change in the weather. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to go behind the scenes and make sure the staff was prepared for rough seas. Fallon was going to meet him at Zeus’ Temple for the Chocolate Buffet, so he had time to do his job before they met up.

  He changed into his crew sarong, a short turquoise wrap embellished with the ship’s logo, traditional male and female symbols intertwined, and below that, his name, underscored with the words, Cruise Director. The staff and a few celebrity savvy passengers knew of his dual status as Co-Owner of the ship, and he liked it that way. In a perverse way, owning a floating den of iniquity had been a good thing. All those gold-digging women who’d flung themselves at him and Ryan after the sale of their internet-dating website now had to purchase passage on the Lothario if they wanted to get close to either one of them. Luckily, many of them either didn’t have the money, or weren’t willing to go to those lengths to pursue them. In that way, the Lothario had provided him with the freedom to do as he pleased. He had to admit, he was going to miss it. At least he’d have Fallon on his arm when he went out in public now. That alone would go a long way toward discouraging other women.

  With Fallon on his mind, and the faint reminder of her clinging to his skin, he took his private elevator to the lower decks. Many of the crew had been on the ship from the beginning, and Richard felt a responsibility toward them, much like family. Without them, the ship wouldn’t exist, and he and Ryan made sure they were treated accordingly. The pay was good, benefits above average for the industry, and as owner-operators, they made themselves accessible to their employees. The idea that one of the crew might be responsible for the incidents that had occurred over the last few months made him both sad and angry. There had to be more to it. He couldn’t think of a single reason an employee would jeopardize the safety of the passengers and crew. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Whoever it was, they had to be stopped before someone got hurt.

  He did the rounds, making sure everyone from the kitchen staff to the cabin stewards was aware of the possible weather conditions. Certain deck areas were closed off until the ship passed into calmer seas, and loose items on the decks had to be secured. In truth, the crew had the situation well in hand, and he did little more than listen to their plans and reports, and thank them for a job well done.

  Confident that the ship was prepared for the inclement weather, he took the crew stairs to Deck Three. The security office rivaled the most modern Las Vegas casino’s when it came to surveillance equipment, and the vault harbored an impressive arsenal capable of repelling a pirate fleet, if need be. Just beyond the cramped, alcove lined floor-to-ceiling with video monitors, was the holding area. Sean Callahan, Ryan’s brother, rose from his seat at the control desk to shake hands.

  “What’s up?” Richard’s eyes strayed to the petite woman behind the heavy wire-mesh. Red-hot anger shot like lightning through his system. “What’s she doing here?”

  Sean glanced at the holding cell. “Drew found her. Her name’s Crystal Braxton. She’s a repeat passenger, and we checked. She was on all the cruises that had incidents.”

  “She’s the one?” What the fuck?

  “Well, she confessed, and she’s been on every cruise where an incident occurred.”

  “Did she also tell you she’s a stalker, and insane?”

  “No. She didn’t mention that. I take it you know her?”

  “Yeah, I do. I had a. . . relationship with her on our maiden cruise. She came aboard with her boyfriend, Vernon Cannon. She was looking for an upgrade, and she thought I was it. She’s done her best to make my life miserable ever since, but I honestly didn’t think she was capable of arson.” At least her confession absolved the crew. That was a relief. “Did she give a reason why?”

  “Apparently, Vernon Cannon is a hot-shot oil guy from Oklahoma.”

  “Yeah, I know him. He’s a real asshole.”

  “She says she’s working for him now. I think originally he was hoping the annoying little incidents would convince you and Ryan to sell the ship, and then when you put out feelers about selling, he was hoping to drive the price down.”

  Richard walked over to the cage and peered in at their prisoner. She was a gold-digger, through and through. He’d made the mistake of taking her to that session with Fallon, and regretted it ever since. She’d become a thorn in his side, repeatedly booking sailings alone, and coming on to him at every opportunity. The last time, he’d forbidden her to come aboard again, but she’d slipped by him this time,
undoubtedly because he’d let Jason take his place greeting the passengers.

  “You won’t take no for an answer, will you Crystal?”

  “Why should I? One of these days, you’ll see that we’re meant to be together. That snooty sex therapist will never give you the time of day. I saw her with you. If you think she’s going to hook up with the likes of you, you’ve got another think coming.”

  Unease skittered across his skin. “What are you talking about?”

  Her face contorted, and for the first time Richard saw something in her eyes that made his blood run cold. “You think I didn’t know what was going on? The way you were looking at her the whole time I was sucking you off? I knew, and I’ve made it my mission in life to see that you pay for it. You and your educated whore.”

  Fallon. Dear God, the crazy bitch knew about Fallon. Richard hardened his resolve. No good would come from arguing with an insane person, and Crystal was definitely insane. “You can tell your boss, Mr. Loose Cannon, that his plan didn’t work. I’d turn the Lothario into an artificial reef before I’d let him get his hands on it. And stay the hell away from Dr. Enright.” With that, Richard turned and headed toward the door. He stopped to speak with Sean. “Turn her over to the FBI in Miami. Let them know she’s also been stalking me, and I’m willing to press charges.”

  “Will do.”

  The encounter soured Richard’s mood even further, but thinking of the amazing woman waiting for him helped. Richard took the crew elevator to the Poseidon Deck where he was to meet Fallon. Below the water line, the pitch and roll of the ship wasn’t as obvious as on the upper decks. His progress was slow as he stopped to consult with bartenders and wait staff in the various lounges at that level. It never hurt to reassure, or shower praise on someone who’d done his or her job without having to be told to do so.

  Several repeat passengers stopped him as he made his way through Zeus’s Temple. If they’d enjoyed the Lothario enough to come again, he owed them a few minutes of his time. Customer service was his job, after all. A few passengers commented on the weather and he did his best to assure them the ship was in no danger. He’d almost made it through the dining room when he caught sight of Thor and the woman with him. He recognized her immediately as the same passenger he’d calmed on day one of the cruise. She made a beeline toward him and launched herself at him.

  Richard staggered back under the force of her assault just as the ship took a nasty roll to starboard and almost sent them both sprawling across a nearby table. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling and braced his legs against the reverse motion as the ship righted itself. She didn’t seem to notice the violent lurch as she wrapped her legs around his waist and planted a big kiss on his lips. His thoughts were on the ship and the obvious worsening of the storm. When he realized her lips were on his, he pushed her away. The ship rolled again and he reached out to steady her.

  “Whoa there. What’s going on?”

  “Mr. Wolfe,” she gushed. “How can I ever thank you? Thor,” she reached for the big blond masseur, “I mean, Eric, and I are engaged!”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, Thor actually blushed as he extricated his pint-sized Amazon from Richard’s fingers and secured her against his hip. “Engaged?”

  “Engaged,” Eric confirmed. “We took one look at each other and knew we were goners. Never thought it would happen to me, but I can’t say I’m sorry. Thanks for sending her my way.”

  “You’re welcome.” Richard issued his congratulations, ordered a very expensive bottle of champagne for the celebratory couple, and then excused himself. He left a message with the Maitre d’ for Fallon and headed to the Bridge.

  Captain Whittier hardly spared him a glance before returning his attention to the instruments. The full crew was on hand, and hard at work. Richard surveyed the angry sea and waited for the Captain to acknowledge him.

  “Richard,” he said a few minutes later.

  “James. How bad is it?”

  “Bad. It came up too quick. We didn’t have time to avoid it, so we’ve got no choice but to get through the best we can.”

  “How long?”

  “A few more hours at best. Even then the seas aren’t going to be suitable for outdoor activities.”

  “Are we in any danger?”

  “No. The Lothario is more than capable of weathering this level of storm. The only concern is the possibility of a rogue wave. We’re watching for one. If there’s one out there, it won’t take us by surprise.”

  “Do you mind if I stay here? Just in case?”

  “Make yourself at home just don’t expect any of us to entertain you.”

  The quiet efficiency of the Bridge staff assured him. He sat off to the side and observed. Hiring a competent crew had cost big-time, but neither Richard nor Ryan had been comfortable with anything less than the best. It was times like these that Richard knew they’d made the right decision. The storm worsened before it began to wane, and he had little time to wonder why Fallon hadn’t joined him as his message had asked her to. Perhaps she’d known his focus needed to be on the ship and the safety of the 3,600 people onboard. Lord knew, when Fallon was near, he couldn’t think of anything but her.

  When the storm abated, and the ship had moved into somewhat calmer waters, Richard allowed himself to wonder again about Fallon’s absence. A glance at the clock told him it was much too late, or early, as the case may be, to disturb her now. He made his way to his cabin and collapsed on the bed. A few hours of sleep sounded perfect. The ship continued to pitch and roll, not nearly as bad as it had at the height of the storm, but enough to make his sleep fitful. Between intermittent wakefulness, he dreamed of Fallon.

  The female subject writhed and moaned. I should have been taking mental notes, if not physical ones, but I'd lost the capacity to think. Instead, I focused on bolstering my knees in order to remain standing against his sensual onslaught.

  From the file labeled, 'Subject M5, Richard Wolfe'

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fallon braced a hand against the wall as the ship listed to starboard, then righted itself. She scanned the dining room for Richard. He’d said he would meet her here, but she was running late since her afternoon nap had lasted longer than planned. It didn’t take long to find Richard. He stood out in any room, something she knew she’d have to come to terms with if they were going to be together. Women were going to notice him. Some were going to fling themselves at him. What she didn’t expect was to see him in the middle of a crowded room with a petite brunette wrapped around his waist, his lips locked to hers, and his arms wrapped around her in a death-grip.

  Her heart rose to her throat, and then plummeted to her toes. The ship rolled again and she had to brace herself to keep from falling. Her stomach rolled with the ship and she ran, fighting her way along the hall as the deck rose and fell beneath her feet. How could he? After all they’d said and done together this afternoon? Blazing anger coupled with humiliation warred with the sour bile in her stomach and made for a miserable combination. She turned the corner and bumped into a solid wall of muscle.

  “Whoa! Fallon, are you alright?”

  “Drew.” She ducked her head to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. “I have to go.”

  His hands gripped her shoulders and he leaned down to look at her face. “You don’t look so good. Come on.” He steered her away from the dining room. “I’ll take you down to the Security Office. The ship doesn’t move as much down there. You can sit for a while, until you feel better.”

  Fallon wanted to be alone, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with Drew. He was such a nice guy, always wanting to help. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she allowed herself to be waylaid. What difference did it make anyway? She could be sick anywhere.

  Drew pushed her into a chair and disappeared, promising to return with crackers and tea to sooth her stomach. Grateful to be alone, she let him go and dropped her head onto her folded arms atop the desk.

 
; “Hey, Bitch.”

  Fallon jumped. She hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room when she came in, but clearly she wasn’t alone. They had someone in the holding cell—a woman, by the voice. Fallon stood and peered over the console at the last person on earth she wanted to see.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for Richard,” Crystal replied, stretching on the cot like a cat wanting her belly scratched. “He should be here any minute now. You can stay and watch if you want to. I know how you get your kicks watching other people fuck.”

  Fallon took in the scene. Crystal, handcuffed, half-naked on the cot in the deserted office. Was Richard playing some sort of twisted sex game with the bimbo? After what she’d just seen, it wouldn’t surprise her a bit.

  “Cat got your tongue, Bitch?”

  “No. . . no,” she said in a stronger voice than she thought possible.

  “Want to join us? He likes to play the dom, you know, be in charge, tie me up. I don’t mind as long as I get to be with him. I’m sure Richard wouldn’t mind a threesome. He’s always had a thing for you anyway. You can be the female cop, just don’t get any ideas about Richard. He’s mine.”

  She was going to be sick. Bile rose in her throat and she clamped a hand over her mouth and ran. The sound of Crystal’s laughter followed her down the hall. She made it to her cabin, and the bathroom, seconds before she heaved the meager contents of her stomach.

  She’d never been more miserable in her life. Her heart was a solid stone in her chest. Her head hurt, her stomach cramped in tandem with every movement the ship made. She’d never been seasick before, but now she understood the enormity of the malady. A good portion of the night she spent in a tight ball on the floor of the tiny shower, where earlier, she and Richard had shared what she’d believed to be a special moment. Now, the thought of the words they’d exchanged, the things they’d done together, only made her stomach cramp worse. He’d been seeing the bimbo all along, playing his dominance games with her, and God knew how many others.

 

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