CRUISE TO ROMANCE (10 page)

*    
*     *

They were going to have to talk. 
That repetitive thought had kept Ryan worried all through dinner and now it was
time for the coffee and dessert to be served.  He still hadn’t made it clear
that all he could give her was a shipboard romance.  Not love, not forever
after.  Just a wonderful Caribbean romance.  Would she still want him?

Several times he’d almost
suggesting skipping dinner.  But a man has his pride and he didn’t have to
beg.  He, Ryan Treymont, CEO of Exercisetech, lover of women, was lusting over
beautiful shoulders and sultry lips.  Jennifer was so sensual, from her
sparkling personality to her exotic glances.  With every bite she took, she had
him craving her.  In fact, he was downright jealous of that silver fork she held
in her shapely hand.  Every time it went in her mouth, all he could think about
was kissing her.  Deeply.  He was jealous every time the waiter came over and
glanced down at that skimpy little dress made out of wispy black lace.  If he
didn’t get her out of the dining room soon he was going to go out of his mind.

He couldn’t remember what they’d
ordered for dessert.  The cake in front of Jennifer looked as if it had been
soaked in a warm bourbon sauce and sprinkled with orange rind.  He looked up at
the waiter who was placing another dessert in front of him, but staring at
Jennifer at the same time.

“What’s the name of this?” he
asked, trying to divert the waiter’s attention away from Jennifer.

“
Seni bei, Signore
.”  The
waiter smiled and returned to the serving island to retrieve the coffee server.

“I don’t remember that name being
on the dessert menu,” he remarked to Jennifer who was trying unsuccessfully to
stifle a giggle.  “I thought it had something to do with bourbon.”

 “It does.”  Her giggles turned
to chortling as she patted his hand and tried to answer him.  “It’s called
bourbon cake,
torte del bourbon
,” she managed to say before she broke
out laughing.

“Then what did the waiter just
say to me?”  For the life of him, Ryan couldn’t figure out what he’d said to
make her laugh so hard, but he certainly didn’t mind.  He could watch while she
gasped for breath and that sexy lace slipped a little further down.  However,
much to his disappointment, she regained enough composure to tell him.

“Beautiful breasts!”

At one time he might have laughed
too, even tossed out a clever joke to keep the light-hearted fun going.  But
this time he wasn’t laughing.  He scowled.  “That wasn’t funny.  I’m going to
break his neck.” Ryan threatened.

“No.  Don’t?”  Jennifer laughed
again.  “Ryan, the poor man doesn’t even realize what he said.  Please don’t start
a fight.  I love getting such a nice compliment.”

“From him?” Ryan asked
incredulously.  “From a man you don’t even know?”

“Oh, Ryan,” she giggled.  “You
know how European men are.  They’re lovers first and foremost.”

Ryan seethed.  “Just what are American
men?  Chopped liver?”

“Truthfully, American men seem to
be more oriented to business first,” she replied tactfully.  Then she leaned
over and put her hand on his thigh.  “Would you relax?  It’s not worth getting
angry over,” she whispered softly.

The waiter had returned and was
busy pouring their coffee.  But with her so close, Ryan couldn’t focus on
anything but her.  He was on fire.  That hot little hand of hers was just too
close for comfort.  Ryan inhaled deeply.  Okay.  He could do this.  He could
pretend he wasn’t affected by her nearness.  Besides, he really didn’t want to
trail his tongue along the edge of her cleavage and pull that lace down with
his teeth.  No, not really.  What he really wanted was to rip that flimsy piece
of lace right off her and make love to her right there on the table.  Except .
. . it was too public.  Straightening in his chair, he reached for his coffee. 
They were going to have to talk . . .

*    
*     *

Ryan couldn’t remember when he’d
enjoyed holding a woman more.  Dancing with Jennifer had started out innocently
enough.  He had convinced himself that he could enjoy the wonderful sensations
of her body next to his and not lose his self-control.  Well, he was about to
prove himself wrong.  The skimpy black lace dress she had on was a tease. 
Feeling frustrated because he couldn’t feel much skin, he felt his hands
slipping further and further down her hips to her perfectly well-rounded
derriere.  Knowing that he shouldn’t be holding her close, feeling that curvaceous
body of hers pressed to his, and not doing it, were two different things.

At his suggestion, they had
skipped the Margaritas and, instead, ordered a bottle of white Zinfandel. 
Which of course, they had already gone through.  Being the perfect host and companion,
what choice did he have but to order another bottle?  Jennifer was not
objecting either.  Not to the wine, not to the dancing, and not to his
possessive hands.  In fact, she was cuddled up as close as she could get to him
and seemed to be loving every minute of it.  Her hands were inside his jacket,
slowly outlining every muscle he owned.  Considering his build, she might be
busy all night.  Not that he would mind, but his control could stretch only so
far.

As relationships
went, this one was pretty platonic.  That, in and of itself, was a first for
him.  He couldn’t remember ever trying
not
to end up in bed with a
woman.  Ironic that he, Ryan Treymont, lady-killer extraordinaire, was unsure
of what he wanted.

Talking to Diane today hadn’t
helped all that much.  She seemed pleased that he had called and had expressed
just how much she missed him and wanted to be with him.  Maybe he had misjudged
her feelings.  Although he had refused to fly back to the mainland early, Diane
did get his promise to discuss their relationship with her when he returned
home. 

In the meantime, he didn’t want
to lose Jennifer.  For the first time in his life, he felt in a quandary over
two women.  While he felt he was being unfair to Jennifer, he couldn’t seem to
resist her.  She certainly wasn’t trying to resist him, at least physically. 
That left him the responsible party, like it or not.

The music ended and he guided her
back to the small booth in the cocktail bar.  Other couples filled the bar
tonight, so he couldn’t kiss her like he wanted to.  It was frustrating,
holding Jennifer and not being able to kiss her and touch her.  But he wanted
to keep them in a public place where he couldn’t lose his control or his
convictions.  Maybe by Sunday he would have a better handle on his emotions and
his future.

As much as he hated to end the
evening, they had finished the wine, it was late and he had to go diving
tomorrow.  “Time to go, Jenn.”

“Why?”

“We’ll be arriving at St. Kitts
at six in the morning.  You know Mike and I are going diving with the rest of
our party.”

“But I’m having such a good
time.”  Jennifer sighed and began to walk quietly back to her cabin with Ryan
behind her.  So Sheila was right.  He had controlled the whole night so that
they couldn’t make love.  Now he was ready to drop her off and go back to his
cabin.  They walked in silence until they reached her deck.  Jennifer wished
the evening would never end.

“We’re here,” she told him and
handed him the cabin card.

In her heart, she had wanted him
to make the move.  She hadn’t wanted to stoop to subterfuge, but stoop she
would.  Loving him was an experience she didn’t want to miss.  She wanted him
and she knew he wanted her even if it was only temporary.  How a man could stay
rock hard for hours was beyond her knowledge of physiology, but Ryan had.  He
was going to do something about it tonight while he was ready and needy.

Ryan opened her cabin door and
flipped on the lights for her.  He didn’t want to kiss her.  Really he didn’t. 
It was too dangerous.  But somehow she ended up in his arms with that
voluptuous body of hers pressed against him, demanding unspeakable pleasures.  Somehow
he knew he would oblige.  “Jennifer,” he breathed while some sanity remained,
“I can only give you a shipboard romance.  No more.  You deserve so much more.”

“I don’t care,” Jennifer
whispered in frustration.  “Make love to me!”

With an urgency that had been
building all night, Ryan took her mouth with a commanding passion.  Jennifer
cried out from the beauty of the kiss, and he gave her more.  His hands
caressed her shoulders gently before sliding down her back to the zipper where
he made quick work of opening it.  He helped her out of her dress without
breaking their hungry kiss.  Jennifer thought she would melt, but before her
knees gave way, Ryan lifted her onto the bed, grabbed the bed sheets where they
had been turned down, and stripped them back.  Quickly he opened the sheers at
the sliding doors of the balcony and switched off the lights.

Jennifer could hear him
practically ripping the clothes from his body and when he joined her on the
bed, his breath was rapid and heavy.  Ryan pulled her close to him and began
trailing kisses down her body.  Everywhere his hand caressed, his mouth
followed in a delightful path of passion and discovery.  Every chance he got,
he gave her a tiny nip.  Then his tongue, that clever, clever, tongue, tasted
every inch of her, leaving liquid fire racing through her veins and pin pricks
of sensation tickling her skin.  She could feel that wonderful heaviness in her
center opening like a flower to the light.

Then she was beneath him sobbing
when he took her nipple in his mouth and stroked it with his tongue.  Of their
own will, her legs wrapped around his body and she arched her back.

“Please.  Oh, please.”

“Please what?”  He teased softly
and squeezed the cheeks of her butt, then gently bit her nipple.

Jennifer went wild, her body
arched off the bed.  Her hands grabbed his shoulders tightly as she cried out
and tried to pull him to her.  Trying to press her pelvis against his, she
moaned in frustration.  Why couldn’t he understand what she wanted?  What she
needed so desperately?

“Tell me what you want,
sweetheart,” he teased again.

The affectionate name didn’t
register in Jennifer’s dazed mind.  All she knew was that somehow she had to
tell him what she wanted before she went totally crazy.  “Make love to me!” she
demanded.  But Ryan only laughed softly and continued his quest to kiss every
inch of her.  That he stalled at her breasts was of no consequence, except that
he was sucking her nipple and slowly driving her out of her mind.  Jennifer was
panting, tossing her head from side to side.  Those noises, they must be coming
from her.  Tiny little squeals of delight and passion.  Tiny little groans of
rapture and ecstasy.

Suddenly the world turned quiet
and still.  The only sounds she heard were coming from the balcony---the
tranquil sounds of the ship slicing through the water.  As her perception
broadened, she became aware of the gentle rolling motion of the ship and the
breeze fluttering the sheer drapes from the open balcony doors.

 “Protection,” he whispered while
he tore open a foil packet and sheathed himself.

With that final thought, his
patience disappeared and he kissed her, a long, passionate kiss that rekindled
all the fires and made more rash promises.  Promises he knew he would have to
keep.

Keep them he would.  “Spread your
legs so that you straddle me,” he coaxed.

Jennifer needed no further
encouragement.  She slipped over him and positioned her vulva against his hard
length.  His hands moved from her breasts to her hips where he began to move
her gently over his sex.  The motion caught her off guard and she cried out in
ecstasy as her body quivered with pleasure.

“Easy, Jenn, easy,” he
whispered.  “Guide me in,” he coaxed gently while she eased the tip of his
penis inside her.

At the feel of him, she whimpered
with delight and need.  Not willing to wait any longer, she pushed herself down
and sheathed him completely.  A quick hot pain shot through her, then
subsided.  Jennifer looked down at Ryan and saw compassion and regret in his
expression.  “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I’m okay.”

Happily, she started moving,
aggressive little strokes at first, teasing Ryan while sending herself into a
state of helpless need.  Then Ryan took over, holding her hips while he thrust
inside building the flames to a fever pitch.  She cried out at she felt herself
slip into a mindless passion that sent her over the edge.

“Kiss me, Jenn,” Ryan commanded
hoarsely.  Still in the throes of passion, she seized his mouth and devoured
him, sucking him, biting him, and crying out with him when he came beneath her
in violent thrusts of passion and need.

Limp and boneless, Jennifer
relaxed against Ryan’s chest.  “I could get used to this,” she sighed.  Ryan
didn’t answer, but hugged her and began stroking his hands across her back. 
Words weren’t necessary to fill up the silence.  It was already filled with the
beating of their hearts.  Jennifer instinctively knew she would always remember
this wonderful moonlit night with the sounds of the sea, the breeze floating
across her body, and the man she loved holding her in his arms.