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Authors: Emma Nichols

Sin at Sea (8 page)

BOOK: Sin at Sea
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We were sitting there talking on the lido deck, listening to music and enjoying the perfect weather…and I mean perfect: cloudless blue sky, gentle cooling breeze, and sun that didn’t seem to scorch the minute we were exposed to it. He had eaten a healthy meal…grilled lemon chicken, a mixed greens salad with a side of fruit salad, and now he was scarfing down his second soft serve chocolate ice cream cone. I was fascinated. There was literally not an ounce of fat on him. He had a strong medium build, the kind that looks natural, a product of his lifestyle instead of long hours at the gym. Those are my favorite kind. I don’t believe in being with anyone who is higher maintenance than I am. As chicks go, I am low maintenance.

Standing suddenly, I laughed when I saw him heading back to the ice cream. “Where do you put it?” I asked.

“Well,” he said seductively, leaning in to graze my lips with his, “I am planning on working it off…soon. I look at this more as refueling. You have given me quite the workout.” Then he kissed my head and walked toward the machine.

Less than thirty seconds later, Jolie came over and sat down. “Where have you been hiding?” She asked with a chuckle.

Leaning back in my seat, the picture of calm, I gave her my most relaxed smiles. “In bed.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “That’s right. We stayed up half the night and slept in to recuperate. It’s only a week. We have to make the most of it.” I shrugged. Naturally, Jolie saw through me.

“Ut oh,” she said. “I thought this guy was your rebound?”

“He is,” I protested. “We’re sticking to the rules…no names, no contact info. We’re just…having a good time. You know me.” I looked her in the eye. I tried to give her my most convincing look. It didn’t work. On either of us.

“You haven’t looked like this since high school, since before we started this life, these rules, and made this plan. It’s worked really well for us so far, Alysin Nixon…my little Sin the Vixen. Ten years was a good run. Maybe we should finally make one last move. Maybe you should let him in,” she urged.

Glancing over at the ice cream machine, I watched him for a moment. He was happiness and hope all wrapped up in one beautiful manly package. From the looks of it, he had made his ice cream cone and now he was making cone after cone for a line up of kids. They were in the camp on the boat. He looked up and saw me watching him. He smiled and shrugged, completely without guile. I smiled back, even though I was suddenly assaulted with an image of him doing the same thing for a little girl that looked remarkably like I did when I was four. I shook my head.

“No. This is just fun. This is to forget what’s his name,” I said seriously.

Jolie laughed at me. “Well then you should stop now.”

“Why’s that?” I asked confused.

“Because clearly you have already forgotten Kyle. Now you are going to be haunted by this guy…a nameless meaningful man.” She stood, leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “I promised this chick I’d meet her for a drink. I’ll see you later.”

Then she walked away. I was left with more to consider, more to think about that I didn’t want to. He’d better come back soon. I didn’t plan to think much on this trip past where we were going to move when we returned.

At 4pm, we found ourselves wandering through the art gallery. He was getting everything he wished for…there were plenty of boring things to do on the trip. He was the master of the mundane. It wasn’t that I didn’t like art galleries. I loved them. Once, in high school, I had taken a trip abroad. It was a ten-day tour of France, Italy, and everything in between. (That would be Monaco and Monte Carlo, for those of you who have never had the pleasure of traveling abroad.)

On that trip, I discovered a love of museums that I had never had previously. With my passion for culture, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. At the Louvre, the beauty of the Venus de Milo, and the Mona Lisa struck me, but even more…I fell in love with some of the more obscure paintings that were on the walls. There was one in particular. I can’t remember the name, but in the background, high up on a hill was a dark and eerie estate. In the foreground, there was a young woman, tied up, drowned in the lake. I stood there and studied it for far longer than I did any other painting. It was huge, the biggest painting I had ever seen. Years later I think of it still, just as I remember visiting the Sistine Chapel and how surreal it was to be wandering around this vast open room, bumping into strangers because we were all too busy looking up to notice those around us.

By the time we reached Florence, I had a boyfriend for the trip. He was from another high school that had been paired with ours and had been watching me. I knew it. I felt it all the time. Finally, we spoke. I didn’t feel for him. It was just…more fun having someone to share the experience with. More than that, it was a learning experience, one that I repeated time and again. I loved to travel. Soon, my travel boyfriends were my favorite. That first time in Italy taught me much…like boundaries.

By the plane ride home, we arranged to sit together. The flight was long, but it didn’t seem that way because…I very nearly joined the mile high club. It’s amazing how far you can get under a shared blanket during a movie on a darkened plane. Oh, and he had his hand down my shorts, behind my panties, and his fingers inside me. It was heavenly. I still remember it fondly. More importantly, I learned not to share contact information. Sure enough, within days of returning home, I was getting mail…desperate, lonely, mail…from him. We didn’t even have licenses yet and we lived four states apart. Nothing was ever going to come of it. It was fun while it lasted. The experience helped hone my personal philosophy.

No matter what Jolie suggested, I wasn’t going to change that philosophy now. Given how this cruise was shaping up so far, I probably would be the one sending the desperate and pathetic emails. Somehow I had to remember that this was just meant to be fun while it lasted.

These were just some of the thoughts rushing through my mind as I stood and stared at the paintings in the ship’s art gallery. I had stopped to stare at one painting in particular. It reminded me of Italy, the Mediterranean in particular. There was a stone patio overlooking the blue water. I have a thing for paintings I want to live in. This one…was perfect. I could completely picture sitting at the little bistro table with a glass of wine, watching the sunset.

My reverie was interrupted by a whisper in my ear. “Wow, that one is amazing. Great eye. My favorite paintings are ones that I would love to live in. It makes me think of Italy.” He sighed right next to my ear and it made me shiver. Naturally he noticed.

Wrapping his arms around me, he spoke to me once more. “Babe, are you cold? We can’t have that,” he said lovingly as he ran his hands up and down my arms.

That brought on more chills. Many more chills until finally I had to whip around and look at him. “Stop,” I said through gritted teeth. “You are so not helping here.”

He paused, leaving his hands on my upper arms. “Oh, would a hug be better?” Then he hauled me against his body.

Surprisingly enough, it did help some. It soothed me in a way that the arm rubs didn’t. Then he had to go ruin it.

“Have I told you how sexy you look when you stand there and study art?” He murmured in my ear, tickling me all the way through.

Without thinking, I grabbed his head and stared into his eyes for all of a heartbeat before I slammed my lips into his. There was no way I could get him close enough. No way. Ah, but I had to try.

His lips were just as greedy as mine. We kept it PG for the gallery crowd, but I still heard one older woman mumble, “Must be newlyweds.”

I pulled back to smile at her, but he still had his face pressed against my temple. “Oh, we are,” I said silkily. “Is it that obvious?” I winked at her. She smiled and walked away.

“You’ve been staring at this for a good fifteen minutes,” Mr. BE said as soon as we were alone again. “I’m going to buy it for you.” He kissed my temple before he started to walk toward the woman running the gallery.

I was in heaven. I didn’t need this painting any more than I needed the jewelry. It wasn’t because I was some gold digger, but there was something really special about being pampered like this, something really great about all these outward signs that he thought of me, cared about me, and wanted to please me. After that time in bed, I didn’t have any doubts.

I stepped back as a young man with gloves on came over to remove the painting from the wall. He nodded at me as he carried it into a room to the side no doubt to wrap it and deliver it later to our stateroom. Soon, Mr. BE was shaking hands with the woman and walking back to me.

“Want to go back to the cabin?” He asked with a smile.

Shaking my head, I responded, “We don’t need to rush this. We have plenty of time.” Then I turned and headed out of the gallery toward the casino. When I had taken several steps and he hadn’t caught up to me, I turned and smiled. “Coming?”

He had that look. He knew. I was doing this on purpose. For a moment, I had let my guard down; I had forgotten our deal. Now I was back on track. I said that I would be ready, willing, and amenable to his advances, but I didn’t say I was going to bend to his every whim. As much as he had put me off yesterday, I would make him work for it today.

The stunned look had worn off his face, as he stepped up to walk with me, he grabbed my hand, pulled it to his mouth, and said simply, “Touché.”

Honestly, I was patting myself on the back…and mostly wishing that I were alone. I would be rubbing myself elsewhere. This man sure did know how to excite me. Now, to prove how strong I was, how unaffected, I had effectively forced myself to suffer. I sighed.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He asked with interest.

“I forgot something in the cabin. Want to pick us a lucky table at the casino and I’ll be right back.” Then I scampered off before his too wise eyes had the chance to figure out what was really going on with me. He didn’t call after me. I didn’t dare turn to see his reaction. I was practically in a jog to make it back to the room.

Shoving my card in the door, I opened the cabin. The bed had been made. The room looked perfect, all pristine. Without hesitation, I let the straps slide down my shoulders, so that my bare boobs were exposed. There was no time to waste. I had to hurry. If I was going to survive until bedtime, I had to do this.

Climbing onto the bed, I lay on my back and slid my thong out of the way. With one hand, I began manipulating my nipple, first rubbing it with my open palm, and then tugging at the hardened nub. I could feel the excitement building. This wouldn’t take long at all. My other hand knew just where to rub around my clit. It felt so amazing so quickly. I was so excited from all the amazing sex that I didn’t have to even imagine anything in particular, just feeling what was happening sufficed.

That’s when I heard the card in the door, but I refused to stop when I was this close. The lack of knock prior to the card told me it was he. Let him see me masturbating. I was actually eager to find out how he might respond to the situation.

As soon as he realized what I was doing, he dropped his shorts and yanked down his boxers. He had a hand on his cock and was stroking it as he came closer. Then he dropped to his knees, roughly moved my hand out of the way and buried his face in my soft shaved folds. I gasped when I felt his tongue licking, his teeth nipping, and the sucking gently had me moaning. My hips arched to allow him better access. It was too much, especially, when I heard the sound of him stroking fast and furious. Soon, I was shuddering and quaking. The best part was that he knew I was having an orgasm. I didn’t need to grab his head and hold him in place; instead he kept going and let me ride it out. Damn, this man was dangerous.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to check his progress. He was close. There was a healthy amount of pre cum dribbling out the end of his dick. His breathing had changed, ragged and catching. Sliding off the bed, I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Lay back,” I commanded.

Without hesitation, he complied. I moved his hand away from his raging erection. Originally, I intended to take him in my mouth. I was going to let him finish. I was even going to swallow. I was going to be that giving, that memorable…only lately I have wanted to be so selfish. Instead, I climbed on. I straddled him.

His eyes flew open for a moment, and then he let out this guttural groan as I slid onto him. It was incredible feeling him slide into me once more. It was so welcome, so pleasurable…such a perfect fit. My hips found their rhythm. Soon, his hips were meeting mine. We were going at it fiercely, wildly. I couldn’t get enough of him. Somehow, without losing pace, he flipped me over onto my back, had me bent nearly in two. Thank God I do yoga. Even then…I wanted more. After being a one trick pony for so long, after years of vanilla sex with that lawyer guy…this man, our chance meeting had changed everything.

I cried out. I couldn’t help it. It was so…intense. Then I felt him erupting inside me. I felt the power of his orgasm. With a relieved sigh, I closed my eyes and threw an arm over them. Gradually, he pulled out. He kissed my neck, in between my boobs, my pelvic bone.

“Nice kitty,” he murmured as he wiped away the evidence of our afternoon romp. Then he lifted me into his arms and deposited me on the bed. “We should have done it here from the start. If we had, you wouldn’t be suffering from rug burn right now.” He chuckled.

BOOK: Sin at Sea
12.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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