Page 17 of Mister Daddy

We share a smirk at the innuendo.

“Are you sure? I don’t want for you to be bored, and I don’t want to take you away from your friends.”

“I’m absolutely sure. It’ll be fun, and you can show me around the island afterward.”

“Okay,” I consent. Do I really get to spend the day with this beautiful woman? How did I get so lucky?

I bet the luck will continue at the table because I have a good feeling about Abby. She’s my lucky charm, I know it.

The curvy girl stands up from the bed and starts to gather her clothes.

“But first, I have to go change. Have you seen my key card?”

I spot the plastic under my desk chair. It must have flown across the room when I took off her dress last night.

I pick it up and hold it out to her, but when she grabs it, I grip it tighter.

“Carter!” she laughs. “I need to change.”

“I have a better idea,” I say, grabbing her hips and pulling them flush against me. “How about round two?”

She meets my eyes shyly. “Are you sure?”

I pull her tighter so she can feel just how sure I am, then I kiss her. Her lips attack mine with the same passion I feel toward her.

We fall onto the bed, knocking the remnants of breakfast onto the floor. I’ll have to clean that up later, but right now, there’s something way more important for me to do.

7

Abby

Iadjust my dress outside the door to my room, making sure it doesn’t look like I threw it on after a quickie, even though that’s totally what I did. Slowly, I wobble down the hall, praying no one sees me. The walk of shame is the walk of shame, even while on a cruise ship.

Fortunately, no one is around and I’m soon back to my own berth. My key card unlocks the door, and I push inside, greeted by a cloud of hairspray.

“Morning,” I say to the girls while trying not to choke. Both Cait and Jessica are in the middle of their usual beauty routine. It’s a good thing I’m a heavy sleeper. It takes me a fraction of the time to get ready in the morning, so I can sleep until they’re almost done and still leave at the same time as they do.

“Oh, thank God!” Caitlyn says, pulling me into a hug. “We were worried about you.”

“Sorry,” is my apology. “I didn’t have my phone.”

Jessica steps out of the bathroom wearing just a towel around her slim body. “It’s okay, babe. Now tell us: how was the hunk?”

I blush. “Um, why?”

Both girls roll their eyes.

“Come on,” says Jess. “You guys were doing mad kissy face at the bar last night. Now how was it?”

Mad kissy-face. The phrase makes me giggle, and I give in.

“He was amazing,” is my admission. “Absolutely mouthwatering.”

But Cait puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head exasperatedly.

“No way. We need more than that. Our guys were duds, and we need to live vicariously through you,” she huffs.

“Come on,” I plead. “I don’t want to kiss and tell.”