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“My roommate is out for the evening. I know I shouldn’t tell you this, but he and Marvin have gotten together, and Marvin got the only solo room for the team.” A dry smile spread over Dylan’s face.
“I shouldn’t. I don’t do this sort of thing.”
“Shouldn’t is no excuse,” he said. “And you didn’t say no, so I’m taking you out of here. Now.”
She opened her mouth again to protest, to say…something.
“No more excuses,” he said. “Come.”
Michaela watched him push her chair back under the table. Trying to retain a semblance of control, she smoothed her skirt down from where his hand had drawn it upward. His eyes were like fire on her skin. If it was already organized and there was no danger of anyone finding out, would it hurt to have a little fun?
His hand moved to the small of her back, guiding her away from the smells of food, away from the bright lights and prying eyes of other people. Where he touched her, the warmth spread out, and a hint of what might be in store for her—coupled with anticipation—clanged at Michaela’s nerves like the ship’s warning bells.
Dylan and Jake’s room was on the fourth floor, almost at the bottom of the ship, but it seemed only a minute before Dylan had his plastic room card out, ready to open his stateroom door.
“Wait,” Michaela hissed. “Are you sure he’s out?”
“I’ll check. Keep walking and meet me back here in two minutes.”
Doing as he suggested, Michaela walked to the end of the corridor, but she had to pass through the heavy blue crew door into the passenger area to get out of sight of anyone who might have remained in Dylan’s room. As she walked, she smiled and nodded to the few guests who lingered around their rooms before turning and heading back toward the crew quarters. She almost lost her nerve and continued walking, but the door to Dylan’s room was ajar. As she passed, Dylan leaned out, grasped her firmly about the waist, and dragged her inside.
“Oh,” she gasped. Dylan had stripped off his dance clothes and wore only a small white towel wrapped around his waist. He’d turned on the shower in the bathroom—tinier even than the one in her stateroom—and steam was starting to gather.
“I need to take a shower,” Dylan said as he pulled her to his chest and kicked the door fully closed. “The show got me all hot. Maybe you could wash my back for me.”
“I don’t think—” Michaela was stopped by Dylan’s finger over her lips. For a moment, she thought of continuing her protest, but the sizzling desire in his eyes stopped her. As he dropped his hand and leaned in, she closed her eyes.
The first kiss was gentle, but it was only a warm-up. The second came strong and hard. Michaela thought she had been melted by his previous kisses, but they were nothing compared to these.
She’d never known such a strong, yearning need, and she couldn’t have stopped herself from kissing Dylan if the ship had run aground. He covered her moist lips with his own, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth, and she felt a soft whimper escape her throat.
Her skin heated. Her spine arched toward him. His hungry hands moved up her body, firmly outlining her hips, waist, and chest. “If you’re going to tell me we shouldn’t be doing this, that I should stop, tell me now, before it’s too late,” he whispered.
“Don’t stop.” The words came out hoarse. Michaela dropped her head back, and he followed the invitation, his mouth biting at her neck and down, down toward her cleavage. With no one to stop them this time, he unbuttoned her shirt, opened and peeled it away in one easy movement. She kicked off her shoes and gasped when her skirt fell to the ground in a soft slither.
Standing now only in her white lacy bra and skimpy underwear, she looked him full in the face. Dylan paused, easing back to admire her willowy frame. The thin scraps of white lace she wore offered little protection from his hungry eyes. Leaving her no time to hesitate, he pulled her back toward him, his hands moving under her buttocks to lift her. She wrapped a leg around him. His hardness pushed against her, and as he eased her into the bathroom the towel fell away, leaving him proud and erect.
“In,” he commanded as he lowered her, then pointed to the shower. She meekly let him push her under the water.
When the water from the shower hit her body, Dylan groaned. “Not bad, Cruise Director.”
Michaela looked down to see the curls of her sex and the thrust of her nipples outlined beneath the translucent white lace, but her nipples were suddenly released as Dylan pulled the cups of the useless wet bra down and greedily sucked at each breast in turn. “Please,” she whimpered, and he chuckled low in his throat. His tongue twisted around her nipple. Oh!
No. Wait. She needed more control. The hot water, the steam, his wet hair under her fingers—it was too perfect for safety. Too close to the fantasy that had played out in her mind only yesterday. His mouth went back to her nipples. “Nice?” he said, and she whimpered again. Then his hands were on the thin lace of her panties.
“No, not yet.” Michaela squirmed out of his hands. Two could play at the passion game. “I want you,” she purred, grasping at his erection and pushing him against the opposite wall.
“You’ll finish me if you touch me like that,” Dylan managed.
“Good.” The shock of seeing him fully undressed was tempered now by the water, her desire, and the need clearly etched on his face.
He was big—very big—and hard. Oh, boy.
Her fingers wrapped around the skin of his rock-hard cock, stroking up and down, teasing him into a groaning frenzy. Dylan thrust out his arms to press his hands against the sides of the shower as his face convulsed with the pleasure of her touch.
“Don’t, you’ll—”
Michaela ignored his warning and ducked her head under the water to take his whole thick length into her mouth. She loved the way he groaned when she ran her tongue over the sensitive head, loved the way his body moved—his narrow hips thrusting gently as she moved her mouth over him. She loved the taut feel of his butt under her hands, the muscles clenching, then releasing. His hands wrapped in her hair. His passion mounted, his stomach tensing more with each stroke as her face came close to his body.
She felt the beginnings of his release and rolled her tongue again for good measure, only pulling back as his body finished its shuddering climax.
Sure, she was a little out of practice with getting naked, but he wasn’t the only one who knew a few tricks.
