by Demi Alex
“Un peu,” she replied. “Four years in high school. Four years in college.”
“Venez ici.” He called her to him, realizing she’d just shared a tiny piece of the past she’d tucked away as she shimmied like the cutest pixie up against him. Wondering how he’d been so lucky to bump into such female perfection, he spread his hands above the soft swell of her ass, aching to raise her skirt and feel the full smoothness in his palms. Instead, he whispered a thank you and kissed her.
Quinn cleared his throat, stepped up practically between them, and ended the kiss. “Get a room. This is a B event.”
“You playing with my pain? You know we can’t get a room,” Ford said. “What are you? Some kind of sadist?”
“Hardly,” Quinn said, sporting a handsome grin. “More of a masochist if I enjoy being here with you, watching you two get it on.”
“Good one,” Charlie said, looking up at Quinn through lowered eyelashes and walking seductive fingers over his defined abs. “Who says you should watch?”
“I do,” Ford quipped.
Quinn laughed and raised a hand in the air. “Ford, you don’t have to say a word. I know my place.” He looked over his right shoulder. “So I figured I’d do my friends a favor and let them know the captain is heading straight for us. How believable does he want you to be?”
Fuck. Not as believable as he felt. He stepped back from Charlie and spoke at Quinn. “Be a friend and pretend to be seducing my woman.”
“My pleasure,” Quinn said, saluting him. “Come, baby doll.”
“That’s what he said,” she teased, allowing the jock to wrap his arms around her. “Just before he planted that hot kiss on my lips.”
“Now who is playing with whose pain?” Quinn pushed the hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. “You know it doesn’t do much for my ego or validate my powers of persuasion if you keep speaking about him.”
“Suck it up, pretty boy,” Ford returned with exaggerated haughtiness and feigned empathy. “And I said pretend.”
Quinn laughed. “Things change.”
“Over my dead body,” Ford said through gritted teeth and a forced smile as the captain continued his approach.
“Or maybe over his non-body, if the two of you keep acting like this and his boss throws him off the ship,” Luis whispered, causing Ford to look at him in warning.
No worries, he mouthed silently, then turned and extended his arm to Georgiou. “Good evening, Captain.”
“Miss Charlene, Mr. Keaton, Mr. Quinn.” The captain shook each of their hands. “Good to see you’re enjoying the sail-away party.”
“We are, thank you,” Quinn said, suddenly the diplomat. “Let me introduce my boyfriend, Luis.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Luis extended his arm. “It’s such a nice change to have someone else do the driving. Gracias.”
“My pleasure,” the captain replied. “We strive to make your vacation as effortless as possible. Please let me know if there is anything we can do to make this weekend good for you and your friends.”
“Thank you,” Luis and Quinn said in unison.
“May I have a private word with you, Keaton?”
Glancing at Quinn and confirming that the other man wouldn’t leave Charlie alone, Ford excused himself and followed the captain to the bar.
* * *
“Keaton?” Luis asked, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s waist and brushing his lips against her temple. “What kind of stuck-up name is that?”
She shrugged and sipped her Screaming Orgasm. “I guess the one on his birth certificate. He doesn’t care for it much. His friends call him Ford.”
“Which name do you prefer?” Quinn asked.
What a weird question for someone to ask. A name was a name. That’s all.
“You have to admit that the two names bring two different kinds of men to mind. Politically correct or not, they have different implications.” Quinn shifted, placing her snuggly between his big body and Luis’s muscled frame.
“It’s true,” Luis added. “Keaton: stick up his butt, spoiled rich boy set to fill daddy’s shoes. Ford: rugged and hardworking, who will persevere with his hard-earned muscles glazed with sweat.”
She hadn’t seen the sheen of sweat on those muscles, but the mental image revved her libido and had her closing her eyes in order to hold onto it longer. “I don’t care about his name. He’s dreamy.”
“You’re dreamy,” Luis said, brushing his lips against her temple. “You’re beautiful, smart, and the brightest star on this ship. Any man would be lucky to have your attention, so make him work for it. You’re more than worth it. Okay, querida?”
“Not to mention as sweet as they come,” Quinn said. “Be careful, baby doll.”
“Come on. We just met,” Charlie reminded them. “It’s not like this has much of a chance of going anywhere. I’m not delusional. I’m not buying bridal magazines.”
“All I know is that man has your panties tied in knots already,” Quinn said.
Did the statement carry any weight if she wasn’t wearing panties?
“And you are the perfect girl to be buying those fancy magazines,” Luis said. “You’re not a one-time fuck.” He shook his head. “No. That’s not you. Not for anyone, but especially not for him.”
“Enough matchmaking.” She blinked and shook her head.
“It’s not matchmaking,” Quinn insisted. With a finger under her chin, he turned her to him. “It’s because we love you.”
Love? She knew them what . . . a few hours? Her forehead wrinkled as the realization of her own feelings surfaced. She loved them, too. In only those few hours she’d shared more about herself with three men, from three different walks of life, than she ever had with other people she’d known forever. “You just met me.”
“And you correctly put us in the friend zone, because after what we’ve seen, you and sea-boy have something that doesn’t come around often. Sometimes never,” Quinn explained, his arm resting on her back as he reached for Luis’s hand. “Trust me. It’s rare to find, and something you don’t walk away from.”
Glancing toward Ford and the captain, she met his gaze. He smiled and warmth filled her. How did her new friends, friends she had just admitted to loving and trusting, know so much?
“Am I that transparent?” Charlie asked, a sense of insecurity dowsing the warm tingles. “It’s a weakness, simply not normal, to feel so much in such a short time.”
“Normal has nothing to do with it. A specific timeline isn’t required to love someone,” Luis said, turning her to look at him. “As strange as it sounds, we loved you at first sight. You are now part of our life. Not as the woman who got away, but as the sister of our hearts. Niña, you’re stuck with us. We’re opinionated and pushy. And we are going to be heard, whether you want to listen or not.”
His dark eyes held the promise of truth. Not only was he speaking his mind, he was doing so because he truly cared.
“I was the one that requested you be honest with yourself. That means I want you to drop your shields and experience what you truly desire.” A gentle, yet firm, fingertip drew a heart on the exposed swell of her left breast. “That’s all good. However, there are major sparks between you and that man. Sparks may burn.”
She knew that. Playing with fire always burned. She tried to deny what she wanted, tried to tell herself she could avoid him, but she’d failed. So fuck it all. If being with him meant she’d get burned . . . burn, baby, burn. She was down.
“Ford—or Keaton—is not a simple beverage manager. He’s not your typical cruise ship employee. From his attitude, and even his name, it seems obvious he’s not a regular guy. He’s not only confident and successful in what he’s done, but he has an innate power about him. I can’t put my finger on it, and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, but there is something about him that he’s not sharing.”
She tried to tune out the pounding in her ears and process Luis’s words. Inhaling dee
ply, she nodded her agreement. Ford was different. She’d felt the peculiar familiarity and sense of belonging the moment she’d looked up into his handsome face. She shouldn’t have though. They traveled in different circles. Shouldn’t have had such an immediate connection. But she couldn’t deny the emotions.
“It’s just sex,” Charlie whispered. “We have an intense physical attraction.”
“Maybe,” Quinn conceded. “But that man sees into your soul. He plans on meeting your needs at any cost. And while we don’t know why he’s so intent on doing so,” he looked at Luis for confirmation, “it concerns us.”
He didn’t voice the specific concern, but might as well have said it. They worried Ford would break her heart.
“Thank you,” she said, giving each of her new friends a hug and a kiss. “I’ve considered all that, and I’m prepared for any fallout.” Not that she could ever be prepared, but for once in her life she wasn’t stepping away from what she really wanted. She wanted Ford. “I’m going to write my piece, spend time with that ultra-sexy man, and maybe have the best sex of my life.”
There. She’d said it. She squared her shoulders and made space in their little huddle of safety. It was time to actually live her life, regardless of consequences.
“Bueno. I would do the same,” Luis agreed.
“Maybe.” This time Quinn shrugged. “How much of an exhibitionist are you, baby doll?”
He had a point. Ford wasn’t allowed one foot inside her cabin. Sex in public spaces, even on a kink cruise, was something she hadn’t considered. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I bet he’s already figured it out,” Luis said, touching his lips to her cheek in comforting assurance. “Querida, sometimes complete strangers connect. Sometimes it’s the connection of a lifetime. No matter what, you can do as the song is saying.”
Charlie listened to Ed Sheeran sing “Lay It All On Me,” and smiled at Luis. “Okay. Thanks. But I don’t see anything bad happening while we’re at sea. I’m good.”
“Yeah. You’re good,” he agreed. “He’s not the type to leave things to chance.”
She wasn’t either. Perhaps that’s why Ford was instantly familiar and safe to her? Professional mode engaged, she looked around the lounge refusing to show how freaked out she was over the fact that Luis and Quinn were able to see right through her. See her fears and her desires.
“I think we’ve just answered an eighth question.” Charlie needed space. “I’d like to get back to my cabin and write for a little. Can you please let Ford know I’ll see him at dinner?”
Quinn and Luis exchanged puzzled glances, but nodded.
“I’ll walk you to the cabin,” Quinn offered, crooking his arm for her. Covering her fingers with his hand, he spoke to Luis. “Be back in a few.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Why would you let her go off like that? Have you seen what’s happening on deck? She’s not used to all the explicit scenes or the people who would want to involve her in them.” Ford walked into the almost empty dining room and scanned the tables.
“She’s not on deck. She went to her cabin in order to work. Quinn walked her to the cabin, made sure she was locked in, and is now picking her up and escorting her through the torrid halls,” Luis said, his tone dripping with sarcasm and strained as if his patience was being worn thin.
Ford wasn’t taking the bait. He pushed his hands into his pockets and walked to the table. At Charlie’s request, he’d arranged for them to be seated with her friends.
“You’re being totally unreasonable. Are you seriously that dense that you’d keep her from working?” Luis asked.
“No,” Ford quipped. “I know better than that.” He pulled out a chair and sat, facing the maître d’s podium. “She’s hell-bent on getting this piece to press, and I’d never stand in her way. What I don’t get is why it’s so important to her. Has she mentioned anything to you?”
Luis exhaled loudly. He shook his head. “No. She just keeps insisting that she’s a professional and has a job to do. Reminds me of when my father refused to accept that I liked sex with men . . . I was hell-bent on fucking any man who stood still long enough, just to prove to my dad that I wasn’t going to marry a good girl, settle down, have kids, and please him. I rebelled so much that I quickly lost sight of what pleased me. It took meeting Quinn to realize what I had been doing. I’m lucky he was so patient and insistent with me, or I never would be here today. The man is as stubborn as a mule. And I’m thankful for that. My father still won’t accept us, but that’s his problem. Not mine.”
Ford nodded his agreement. He knew the stress of parental pressure. “I get that. I do. Fathers can be massive dicks. Mine is.”
He could feel Luis studying him, but he refused to look back at the other man. No need to bond with Luis when all he wanted was answers on what drove Charlie. He pretended to read the menu instead.
“Tonight we eat off the International Aphrodisiacs menu.” Ford dropped the folder to the table. “If you do oysters, I suggest the oysters with champagne-vinegar mignonette to start.”
“What the hell is mignonette?”
Much to his surprise, Ford found himself identifying with the man he’d originally considered competition. He grinned, remembering his own reaction to the peculiar serving of a Louisianan staple. “Think of it like a dressing. The oysters are broiled, topped with creamy butter, sweet grapes, and then dressed with herbs and the tart vinegar. They’re great.”
Luis nodded, easily accepting the suggestion. “You really do know your food.”
“More or less,” Ford admitted, intent on keeping the conversation easy. “Comes with the job. Plus, I like to eat.” Spotting Charlie and Quinn walking through the door, he stood, pulled out the chair next to his, and waited for them to approach. Once she rounded the table and came to his side, he rubbed his palm over her back and bent to kiss her cheek. “I missed you. Glad you’re finally here, chère.”
“Me, too. But I wasn’t gone that long. I just went back to make some notes I didn’t want to forget,” she replied, touching his cheek and gracing him with a beautiful smile. “Are we sitting here?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The remainder of the guests faded into the background as she squeezed his hand in a private message. He tipped her face up to his and looked into her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, touching his mouth to hers and giving in to his very own addiction.
Her soft lips yielded and welcomed him with a soft sigh. The intoxicating taste fueled his desire for more, the painful evidence swelling in his pants, but he kept the kiss tender and short. Guiding her to sit, he inhaled her scent and fought the urge to pull her back into his lap. Fuck the ship. Fuck the cruise. Fuck her article. He wanted what he wanted.
“I got a lot of work done. The happy hour party was full of surprises, and I had to get it all into a file. I think this kink cruise has more romance than I anticipated. The people on board are an assortment of personalities and I really think they’re going to make great inspiration for a piece that will appeal to many of the readers. The feature is going to rock.”
“I missed you,” he repeated, surprising even himself. For the first time ever, he’d felt the absence of a woman and he hadn’t liked it for a single moment.
“I’m glad,” she replied, a mischievous smile on her lips.
“And it’s you that rocks.” He looked into eyes that sparkled with joy and realized how accomplished the work made her feel. Her face glowed with excitement and she could barely sit still in her chair. “That byline is yours.”
“Not necessarily,” she said, sucking her lower lip into her mouth as two vertical lines of concern formed between her finely shaped brows. “Kat is a great writer. She’s writing about Paris, the city of love. It simply fits for Valentine’s Day.”
“You have the scoop on romance and love for any day of the year. Not only that, but you’re being exposed to that love.” He interlaced their fingers and pulled her hand into his lap. “You don’
t need to stick with only traditional romance. Think outside the box. Write for a variety of readers. Reach more people.”
“I like that,” she said, her smile returning to her pink lips.
“I like it,” Quinn added.
“I guess I do, too,” Luis said. “Querida, I’d buy the magazine if it had different takes on relationships. I’m sick of people trying to fit everything into a neat little package. Not everything is for everyone.”
The moment Charlie had asked for the kiss, the other men disappeared from Ford’s radar. But they were back. Sitting with him and the woman that made his chest tight, her friends and confidants made for very unusual dinner company at the start of a relationship.
Quinn sat beside Luis, who sat on the other side of Charlie, and another man approached. Ford glanced at the maître d’ and wondered if the man was pulling his leg. Setting up a Charlie’s Harem joke or something.
“Good evening,” the new arrival said. “I believe this is my table. May I?”
“Of course.” Charlie piped up and indicated a free seat. “Welcome. I’m Charlie, and this is Ford, Luis, and Quinn.”
“Um . . . you’re all friends? All together?” The conservatively dressed, tall, and lanky man sank into the offered chair, tugging on the collar of his Polo shirt and looking around the table.
“We’re all friends,” Quinn offered. “We’re not all together. For simplicity’s sake, I’m with Luis. Ford here is with Charlie, and he barely leaves her side. I’m not sure if he bites, so be warned. He’s a tad territorial.”
Quinn may have been teasing, but Ford saw no problem with sticking to his woman. He’d be the one escorting her to all the events for the rest of the cruise. Not Quinn. Not Luis.
“My choice,” Ford quipped. “Besides, some people know more about boundaries than others on this sailing.”
“Agreed,” said the newcomer. “I questioned the nature of the cruise and if it was what I was looking for. Initially, I had doubts. The staff assured—”
“My friend, tell us your name.” Luis raised his hand, effectively calming the rambling.