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“She can’t move in with you. I don’t know you.” Justice crosses her arms over her chest and stares at her sister. It’s not one of concern, but a look of irritation. Something tells me that Justice likes it better when Libby has to live through her experiences.
“Sweetheart, the choice is yours, but I’ll never hang red beads on my door all night unless you’re the one in bed with me.” I run my hands down her arms while her sister takes in the familiarity of my touch.
“You slept with him?”
Libby laughs. “No, we hardly slept.” She turns toward me and lifts on her tiptoes to give me a kiss. “I’ll be right out.” She breezes past Justice, and over the blonde’s head, I watch Libby toss her suitcase on the bed and throw her belongings inside.
Justice turns toward Libby. “You can’t move in with him. This was supposed to be a trip we took together. Besides, you know nothing about him.” She looks at me and says, “He could be a criminal. He’s probably using you.”
Libby stalls at that statement. I wait to see her response. If it doesn’t come soon, I’ll address the situation myself, but Libby slams her suitcase shut.
“Justice, I love you, and I’ve been living in your shadow for long enough. This cruise was never about me, it was about you, and you know what? I need something to be about me every once in a while.” She swings the suitcase off the bed and pulls the retractable handle up. She scoops her laptop off the desk and stares at me. “Asa has been amazing, and you’re right, he may be using me, but you know what? I want to be used by him because even my best days have never felt as good as yesterday.” Libby walks with purpose toward the door and nearly runs her sister over with the suitcase.
I take it from her and place my hand on her lower back. We take a few steps down the corridor when Justice calls out. “What room number are you in? What’s his last name?” Now she is playing the roll of concerned big sister, but it’s a little too late.
I turn around and say, “I’m Asa Cross, and I own this ship. If you need us we are in suite 8150.” Justice stands in the doorway wearing a negligee and a shocked expression.
I turn back to my girl. “You okay, sweetheart?” I ask and then I lead her back to our room.
She enters and flops onto the couch. “I’m sorry about that. She’s a bit spoiled. She’s always been the pretty one, so she’s used to getting the lion’s share of attention.”
I want to growl, but instead I laugh because describing Justice as the pretty one is like saying the Elephant Man is prom king material. There is nothing attractive about Justice, all the way from her bag of bones body to her unattractive personality.
“There is nothing pretty about your sister except her absence. You are the most beautiful of the two of you.”
She kicks her feet up on the coffee table. “I’m glad you're blind.”
“I’ll make you believe it before the cruise is over.” Mention of the end of the cruise pulls the light from her eyes.
“Are you sure I’m not going to be a burden?” She bites her lower lip. “I mean I can stay out of your way in the library.”
“Liberty Ferall.” Each time I say that I chuckle. “You are needed right here. I want you next to my side at breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all the times in between. Don’t you get it? You’ve stolen my heart.” I sink into the soft cushion beside her and pull her into my arms. It’s where I want to feel her every second of the day.
We kiss for what seems like a lifetime, and then she pulls away from me. “Don’t you have work to do? I do, and if I keep kissing you, I’ll never get it finished.” She peels her body from my embrace and rises to get her computer.
In all honesty, I do have work to do. Our next ship is already in production, and I have to go over the numbers, but if Libby would allow me to sit here and kiss her all day, I’d be glad to oblige.
“Tell you what. Make a goal and when you reach it, I’m your reward.”
She opens her computer and turns it on. “Perfect. So let’s say every twenty-five pages I edit I get a kiss or something.”
I prefer the “or something," and just so she hurries through her work, I strip off my shirt because she seems to like my chest. I pull a chair up to the coffee table and plant myself in her direct line of sight.
While she works on her manuscript, I work on my stuff. Each time her eyes skim my body, my dick twitches, and I pray she works fast. And it turns out she does. She makes record time editing that manuscript, and I enjoy kissing her, eating her, and fucking her until she screams my name. I don’t get much done because all I can think about is the next time she closes her computer and gives me that I’m-ready-for-my-reward look.
Libby and I have been connected at the hip for three days. We skip touring Grand Cayman and Falmouth to stay in bed and make love. And that's what this is. It’s love because each time I see her, my heart swells to the size of a beach ball, and I can hardly breathe.
Today she’s having lunch with her sister in the cafeteria while I meet with Captain Christos to discuss any issues he sees with the ship.
Every second I’m away from her is awful. My stomach twists and tightens and my heart feels all achy. I’m turning into one pussy-whipped bastard, and the thought of it makes me happy.
I rush through the meeting and return to our suite. I keep checking my watch and looking toward the door hoping she’ll be back soon. I’m a thirty-eight-year-old man for God’s sake. I run a multi-million dollar empire, and I can’t take my next breath without her.
We’ve had hours to talk to each other and there’s nothing I don’t love about her. She lives on her own in a small apartment in Los Angeles. She has a Masters of Fine Arts degree in creative writing. She loves to travel, but doesn’t do it much because it’s not as much fun alone.
She believes work and play should be split evenly, although this morning after we made love, she said she is edging toward the concept that play is healthier and more fulfilling. I agree.
She wants to marry someday and have two children. One for each hand she says. She is my mirror when it comes to her life’s desires.
