Page 12 of The Cruise Back to You

His lips are warm and taste like the rum drink he had earlier. His hands grip my shirt tight. I pull him closer, closer, until there’s no space left between us, and I pour everything I can’t say into this kiss.

I love you. I never stopped. I’m sorry. Please give me another chance.

When we finally break apart, we’re breathing hard. Robin’s cheeks are flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and he’s looking at me like he’s just woken up from a dream.

Seven

Robin

I stare into Colter’s dark eyes.

Did we just do what I think we just did?

We must have, because my lips are still tingling from the kiss and I can still taste him. The music pulses around us, but I barely hear it. All I can focus on is him.

Then he kisses me again.

It’s deeper this time, more deliberate. He cups my face like I’m something precious, and I melt into him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to keep myself upright. When we finally separate, we’re both laughing—breathless, giddy, ridiculous.

“I’m horny as fuck,” I admit, because apparently my brain-to-mouth filter has completely shut down.

Colter’s eyes darken. He pulls me closer, so close I can feel every inch of him pressed against me. “I can help take care of that problem.”

I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt from it.

Colter leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “I think it’s time for Marc to get locked out of our cabin.”

I laugh and nod, and then we’re moving through the crowd, his hand warm in mine. We steal kisses along the way: against a wall near the stairs, in the corridor outside the elevator, inside the elevator when the doors close and we’re blissfully alone until we remember it has glass walls. His mouth is addictive. I’d forgotten how addictive.

No. That’s a lie. I never forgot. I just tried very hard not to remember.

By the time we reach his cabin, we’re breathing hard. Colter fumbles with the keycard, cursing under his breath when it flashes red the first time. I press myself against his back, lips finding the spot behind his ear that always made him shiver.

“You’re not helping,” he groans.

“I’m not trying to help.”

The light flashes green. We tumble inside.

The cabin is dark, but neither of us bothers with the lights.

Colter’s hands are under my shirt, warm against my skin. My hands are in his hair, pulling him down to meet my mouth.

We fall onto his bed and almost roll right off the other side.

“Jesus,” Colter laughs, catching himself on the wall. “Why are these beds so tiny?”

“Cruise ship chic,” I manage, pulling him back down.

He settles on top of me, his weight familiar and perfect, and for a moment we just breathe. His forehead rests against mine. His thumb traces my cheekbone.

“Robin,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“I really want to⁠—”

“I know.” I swallow hard. “Let’s make a promise. Not more than this. We need to keep it casual. Uncomplicated.”