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“Well, why didn’t you say so? Race ya,” I say, leaping over some rope piled on the deck and running toward the familiar sight. He laughs and weakly chases after me, letting me win.
I stop dead in my tracks when I see what he’s had set up. Flowers in and around the bubbling hot water, trays of fruit and melted chocolate and a picture of orange juice next to a bottle of champagne. A wave of guilt washes over me again and a frown takes over my face. Jasper seems to read my mind, wrapping his arms around my middle, hugging me from behind.
“No pain right now, Dixie girl. Just let me do this for us. I’ll take your regret from you one day at a time, in the bedroom. Outside of fucking, I don’t want to feel your guilt because I don’t need it. All that matters is now. Okay?”
“You’re too amazing,” I tell him. “I don’t–”
“If you're about to say “deserve you,” I’ll spank your perky little ass before we even get in the water. If either of us is too good for the other, it’s you to me, babe.”
Clicking my tongue, I shake my head. “You’re still stubborn.”
He laughs, kissing my shoulder and stroking down my arms. “And you’re still mine.Allmine.”
“Always.”
Chapter 7: Shipwrecked For You
“It is better for a flower to
bloom late than to wither early.”
? Matshona Dhliwayo
Jasper
Five days into our stay at sea, I have Dixie waiting in our room for me while I finish up with the crew. We’ve just finished lunch, and our dinner plans are now sorted. The trip has been better than I could have imagined and much needed. I haven't taken more than a few days away from work in years.
We docked outside of a little town for night three, going window shopping and getting a late-night dinner to give Pam a full-day off with her family. Beau has become borderline obsessed with Dixie, sitting in her lap whenever he can, giggling like a little flirt. She’s always liked kids and they’ve always liked her. She’s never brought up the idea of surrogacy or adoption, but if she wanted that, I would too. We’re all I need. The two of us. But I wouldn’t tell her no.
Anything to make her happy could never be a bad thing.
As I get to the room, Dixie is still wearing a pair of gray leggings and a white blouse, smiling sweetly as she sees me. She sits up on the queen-sized bed, pulling the dark silk sheets into her fingers, sighing at the sensation. I’m not even sure she knows that she does it, but I notice every time.
“I believe you were told to be waiting with a couple less articles of clothing wrapped around that body of yours. Why are your clothes still on, dollface? Are you testing my patience this evening for the fun of it? Or are you chasing a punishment like you used to?”
“I had a dream,” she answers, dropping to her knees on the floor in front of me gracefully. Her hair is wavy today, dried naturally and parted down the center. Her blue eyes have darkened a shade without the sun pooling into them.
My interest is piqued. “And what might this dream have to do with your misbehaving?”
“In my dream, you took my clothes off, with scissors. It was really,reallyerotic, sir. I think you may enjoy it. I thought you might like to try. So you see, staying clothed was me trying to be a good girl this time, I swear it.”
Disobeying an order to test a new little kink is a fair trade-off in my opinion. I’m not really a dominant, and Dixie, though naturally submissive, isn’t a submissive. She calls me sir whenever she likes, and Jasper when that feels right. Occasionally, she’ll kneel for me, but that has more to do with her oral obsession than power play. There don’t need to be strict rules between us, because we know exactly what we need from each other.
“Color me impressed, gorgeous.”
“They’re on the bed, I stole them from Pam,” she tells me proudly.
“Kleptomania and sexual deviancy,” I tease. “What am I to do about these new qualities you're sporting, Dixie?”
Her grin doesn't fade. “Dunno. You could kiss me for being bad. That’d just beawful.”
“Smart mouth today too, hm? I’ll have to fill it up now, won’t I?”
She shrugs. “If you think it’ll work, you gotta.”
The playfulness in her tone is not lost on me. It’s been a bit of a task to get her to open up again. But her week of feeling regret is nearly over and I’m glad she’s slowly forgiving herself because I forgave her the moment we kissed.
The act of cutting her out of her clothes is in fact, erotic.
