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Authors: Emma Nichols

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BOOK: Sin at Sea
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There was something about the way the stars looked on that black velvet sky. There was something about the way the strawberries and whipped cream tasted when it was fed to me by him or licked from his fingers. Before long, I had convinced him to lie on the bed. He was reluctant. He worried I was too eager, worried I would rush things that we had all the time in the world for…if you considered a few days all the time in the world.

Finally, I pulled out my camera from the bag. I carry it with me everywhere. It is the lifeblood of my business. Though I was never professionally trained, in the digital world, I am considered a very talented photographer. I capture people and places with my eye for beauty. Then I sell them to magazines. Those that don’t sell right away for a specific purpose are then uploaded and sold on sites that offered royalty free images. I have an extensive portfolio from years of work. My income…grows and grows. My overhead is non-existent. I travel as much as I want whenever I want. I make money going for walks. While I had planned to mostly take this trip off and focus on the next move, this was a welcome wrench in the plans. So when he balked and worried we weren’t savoring the moment, I started taking pictures.

“How will I get copies?” He asked. “No names, no phone numbers, no emails…no pictures.” He frowned then recovered and had a twinkle in his eye.

Sure, for a moment I rather hoped he had decided that we would break our agreement. Sure, there was that instant that I was ready to tattoo my name and contact information on the inside of his arm so that he would never lose it. Only, that wasn’t what he suggested.

“What if we get some of the pictures printed on the trip?” He asked. “We could leave with a concrete version of our memories…”

His idea had merit, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that we would be able to master the execution. Did I want to spend an excursion trying to find a one-hour photo place? Did I want to waste a minute that we could be spending making memories by trying to preserve them on film?

“What if I give you the SD card before we get off the boat?” I asked, practically.

He nodded. “That would be great, but what about you?”

“What about me?” I asked, my teeth already grazing his neck as I pointed and shot. Yeah, I may have done this once or twice. I have modeled in my photos. Who knows better than me what I want the pictures to look like? That’s right. No one.

“Don’t you want some pictures, too?” He asked. He had sounded almost hurt even as I distracted him with my tongue.

“Oh, don’t worry, I also travel with my laptop. I’ll download the pics and then give you the SD card.” I really just wanted to get back to where we left off. I ran my free hand down his washboard abs. He had just a dusting of hair down the middle of his chest. Happily, I followed the trail down into his boxer briefs.

Once again, his cock sprang out at me. I had never grown so used to another man’s presence so quickly…ever. Mr. BE was easy to be with. He was the kind of guy who would be easy to fall in love with. He was the most dangerous man ever. I’ve had the tattooed bad boys. I liked them. I enjoyed them. They were fun…and temporary. What I had never had, never done, was enjoy a straight-laced good guy. This guy was hard to figure out. There were no tattoos, but not every bad boy wore them like a badge of honor. I was baffled.

That’s the trouble with no names, never exchanging personal information. What did I look like…The Mentalist…an FBI profiler? I couldn’t figure him out. So I tried to tell myself that it was the mystery of it all making the situation so hot, knowing that we could both be whoever we wanted to be.

At the moment, I was being the chick sucking his dick. It was no easy task. He was hung. Believe it or not, that kind of annoyed me. He shouldn’t be so frickin’ perfect. He shouldn’t be hot and generous and hung. It was so…wrong. He hadn’t called me any names. He hadn’t made me feel like I was less than I was. He held doors open, unless they were automatic. He pulled out chairs…unless they were attached. Now, I was truly studying him, getting to enjoy him on my terms, alone, without Jolie, and I had to admit he had one of the prettiest dicks I’d ever been laid with.

It didn’t take long for me to give up on the blow job. He seemed to be fine with the idea. He, too, was urging me up, hauling me closer to his waiting mouth. Insisting on kissing me with a passion that I had yet to previously experience. Our foreheads were together as we panted some. He was guiding my hips down onto him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he entered me once more.

Just as before, I was insanely ready for him. How could I not be? Oh, but when I opened my eyes I realized how much trouble I was in. He was doing a fine job penetrating my body with his cock, but now he was piercing my heart with those eyes, those gorgeous blue bedroom eyes. I was almost embarrassed by how quickly that first orgasm arrived. Remember how I opened my eyes? Yeah. Then. While, he felt amazing inside me and he was doing a phenomenal job working those nipples with his hands…it’s what his eyes did to me that truly sent me over the edge. Damn.

He knew it, too. He knew when I came, when my breath caught and my body shuddered inside. He felt me trying to ride out that orgasm, letting wave after wave take me far away. Though I’ve never been one to speak during sex, clearly he was.

“Come back to me, baby,” he murmured against my lips. “Come on.”

Part of me was spent. Part of me wanted to keep going forever. So we continued for as long as we both could stand it. Hours of foreplay. Hours of him in me. Multiple orgasms for both of us.

Now…he slept…when I wanted nothing more than for him to be awake. Would you believe that it wasn’t for sex? Nope. I wanted to talk. This guy was killing me.

It was close to noon when he finally woke. He looked rested, and happy, and surprised. I had heard him rustling around in bed, the kind of sound that normally precedes someone waking up. I was right. He was. When I finally closed the laptop, stood, turned, and walked back in from the balcony, he was laying on his side smiling at me.

“What are you doing here?” He asked happily.

I looked at him sideways, unsure of what he was asking. Had he forgotten me already? Had yesterday meant nothing to him? Luckily, while I was still finding my words, he spoke once more.

“You let me sleep in and then when I woke up, you were still here? I expected you’d be up on the lido deck getting some sun or wandering the ship getting hit on by some strange guy?” He lifted the bedding, welcoming me to join him.

Dropping my bathrobe to reveal that I was au natural underneath, I climbed in not really knowing what to expect. “As your wife, I figured I should be here for you when you woke. Here am I. Ready to meet your needs. Do you have any unfulfilled needs?” I asked playfully as I snuggled against his warm naked body.

Already, I knew that he had morning wood. Funny name…morning wood. It should just be called ‘waking wood.’ Experience had taught me that guys could get it any time of the day with sleep. His wood was really lunch wood or early afternoon wood. He rubbed it against me and I was convinced it was about to become my wood once more. I smiled suggestively.

“I may have one need that you could fulfill if you’d like,” he said.

“Anything,” I responded. Oh, and I meant it. A week was not going to be long enough.

“Coffee. Can you call for room service? After a coffee and a shower, I’ll be ready to go to lunch…unless you just want to order in?” He smiled at me.

Oh, how I wanted to order in. Then I shook my head. Talk. We needed to talk. “God, do you have to be so…distracting?” I asked.

He looked at me taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“While you were sleeping, I had this whole talk planned in my head that we needed to have. Then the minute you wake up, it’s all but forgotten because you are so hot!” I frowned at him.

“Wow. I’ve never felt the need to apologize after being complimented before.” He smiled. “So do I say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry?’ Honestly, I’m not sure where to go with this.”

“Apology accepted,” I said as I laid my head on his chest. Instantly, his beating heart, the feel of his skin against my cheek, and the scent of him mesmerized me.

“Sooooo, the talk? Did you fill in my lines in your head or did you want me to actually participate?” He chuckled as he ran a hand up and down my side.

“Oh, yeah.” I sat straight up because this was not going to work with us snuggled together in bed. Then, I left the bed entirely, grabbed my robe, and sat down after I cinched it around my waist. “Whew. There.”

He frowned. I was making him nervous. In the past, I would have relished that, the control of it. Now, I wanted to comfort him. “Listen, you are very distracting. I need space.”

“Okay?” He sat up fully in bed.

“We didn’t talk about this, and it was really irresponsible of me. I guess I should have mentioned it before.” I sighed and decided to dive right in. These talks are better when treated like Bandaid removal. “So, we haven’t been using protection.”

“Oh, that!” He said and laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s safe.” He waved his hand and stood to head to the bathroom. “I thought you wanted to talk about something serious.”

I stood and followed him. “This is serious. I don’t want to walk away with a souvenir from this trip,” I said in an irritated voice. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.”

He had just finished peeing. He turned and looked at me. “Listen, babe, I had a procedure. I can’t get you pregnant. And I am clean. No transmittable diseases. I’m going to take a shower. Can you order my coffee?” With that, the conversation was over…apparently. He had already tuned me out and started messing with the water temperature.

A thought occurred to me. “Aren’t you worried that I have something? Look how quickly I fell into bed with you? I could have herpes…the gift that keeps on giving. I could have The HIV! I could kill you!”

He whipped around. “Babe,
you
won’t be killing me. For the love of God, coffee, please!” With that, he stepped in the shower.

While I should have been comforted, I wasn’t. The very least I could do was order him coffee, like a good wife. Yes, coffee would be waiting when he finished. So would I.

Sometimes, I wondered if they pulled the guys aside in school. You know, when the girls watch that special movie and talk about getting their periods, what are the boys doing? I’ve always had my suspicions. Now, I’ve convinced they have a workshop on being evasive. They are all the same. I tried to talk more. He avoided my questions.

“Listen, if having me wear a condom makes you feel better, then get some. I’ll wear them. Otherwise, stop being a nagging wife, drop that line of questioning, and let’s enjoy the rest of this week.” He was serious. I had hit a nerve. By the looks of it…all of them. Still, if that was as bad as he could get, I could handle this.

Nagging wife. I really had turned all girl. Well…crap.

“Okay then. Let’s get lunch and decide how to spend the rest of the day,” I said. I went and stood by the door. I could feel him holding back. As much as I wanted to know, we had a week. This wasn’t forever. This was the best shot at for now I had. I needed to take it.

BOOK: Sin at Sea
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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