Page 17 of Not that Sea-Rious

Beau

W hy? What was he thinking? Beau had about as much rhythm as a lobotomized sloth. Yet there he was, pressed against Marissa’s soft back, rolling his hips, going along with her flow. Or was she following him? Who the hell knew at this point. Did it matter?

She hadn’t stopped or slapped him, so he could only assume she didn’t mind his erection.

He couldn’t hide it—not when they were this close, mimicking the horizontal mambo while vertical.

Though, to be honest, if they continued gyrating on the dance floor, he couldn’t promise how much longer he could prevent himself from lifting her dress and getting to the point.

Okay. He’d never do that.

Not without permission at least. If she was into it, he might consider it.

Would she be into it?

As his mind wandered to the memory of the pool deck the night before, where they were very much in public doing private things, he wondered how much of an exhibitionist this beauty could be.

The idea of showing her off, allowing others to bask in her magnificence while he, and only he, enjoyed partaking in all she offered, titillated him to the point his dick twitched and strained to act on his impulses.

She turned within his hold on her. Now her bountiful bosom pressed against his chest, and he nearly came undone.

This woman knew exactly what she did to him, and tempting him with those breasts in that dress was seriously cruel at this point.

How was he supposed to show restraint? Did he really have to continue to be a decent gentleman?

Marissa leaned forward. His skin broke out into goose bumps as her warm breath danced along his neck and his ear. Swallowing hard, he shivered ever so slightly.

“Is your bed as comfortable as I remember?”

Absolutely, but he couldn’t just say that. He had to play the coy game she’d started earlier. “I’m not sure,” he teased. “Why don’t we go back and investigate?”

Reluctantly, he stopped swaying with her and took her hand to lead her out of the club.

Squinting, he blinked a bit as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the main hall.

What time was it? There wasn’t an alcohol-distributing establishment on the boat that was open twenty-four hours, so the evening was still young if there were cocktails available.

As they walked, he wondered if he could find a way to stroll past the gift shop.

Beau hadn’t expected to run into her, let alone planned to take her back to his cabin again, so he hadn’t exactly prepared.

Which, of course, he kicked himself for.

He should’ve done it anyway. It never hurt to have condoms on hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Dammit.

They were already at the rear of the ship. If they continued toward the shop, they’d go in the opposite direction of his room. “Uh”—he scrubbed the back of his head—“I wanted to see if the store was still open.”

She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. “Why?”

The playful grin and the sparkle in her eye hinted she knew the reason.

Beau licked his bottom lip. He wanted to be tactful. “I was a terrible Boy Scout.”

Closing the distance between them, she brushed her lips against his, teasing a kiss before she spoke. “I guess I was a better Girl Scout.”

Marissa

Never in her life had Marissa been this forward.

Making the first move was outside her wheelhouse, but here she was, suggesting Beau take her to bed.

Perhaps her cocktail consumption had lowered her inhibitions.

Either that or his erection taunting her back had tempted her to the point she had to give in.

Whatever it was, Tina had bought her condoms. The least Marissa could do was put them to good use.

While in the elevator, emboldened by their banter and his obvious desire for her, she pressed herself against him and claimed his mouth. Sweeping her tongue against his, she kissed him with the greedy need thrumming through her body. He’d teased her on the dance floor. Now it was her turn.

He groaned as her hand slid down his chest and between their bodies. She dipped into his shorts, and her fingers grazed the swollen tip of his dick. Grinning against his mouth, she couldn’t help but snicker. “Well, hello.”

He chuckled and rested his hands on her hips. “Hi.”

“Last night you focused on me,” she explained as she curled her fingers around his shaft.

Beau grunted and closed his eyes the moment she gave him a slight and gentle squeeze.

“Tonight,” she began as she ran her thumb along the bulbous head of his cock, swirling the pearled beads of pre-cum dripping out of the slit. “I want to concentrate on you.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me,” he moaned before she silenced him with her lips over his.

Another deep passionate kiss set the flames of need inside her soaring higher. Her sex pulsed as his hands moved away from her hips, around to her ass, and he gripped her cheeks heartily. A fresh wave of arousal whirled within her.

When the doors of the elevator opened, the two of them stumbled out into the hall as though they were hammered beyond belief, but in reality, they were definitely drunk on each other and less on alcohol.

Groping as they went, Marissa and Beau somehow made it to his room without once unlocking their lips.

The only reason their kiss ended was so he could turn toward the door and slide his key card in. As the green lights flickered, she slapped her hands on his ass and gave it a good squeeze. Once he opened the door, the two of them spilled into the room and kicked off their shoes.

With nimble fingers, she undid the button of his cargo shorts. Meeting his eyes, she dragged his zipper down while lowering herself to her knees. “I believe I started something last night that I need to finish.”