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I can feel the heat of my embarrassment rush to my cheeks. “Yes.”
“What is it? Yes or No?”
“It’s a yes. I like it very much.” So much that the burn of my embarrassment takes a dive and settles between my legs. If he doesn’t leave me soon, I’ll be rushing to my room and hanging the red beads from the door handle so I can get better acquainted with Mr. Dependable. My life is pathetic.
“That’s good to
hear. It’s a custom blend that I’ve recently started wearing.” He looks me up and down and my pussy begins to pulse in time with my heartbeat.
“I’m Asa, what’s your name?”
For a minute I can’t remember. The man muddles my brain.
“You do have a name. You have to have one to get a passport, which you needed to get on the ship.”
I shake my head trying to jumble a few functional brain cells together. “Of course I have a name. I’m Libby Ferall.” I offer him my hand, which is a mistake because the minute he touches me, my knees buckle. I grip the bar with my free hand and try to cover my stumble by saying, “I don’t have my sea legs yet.”
He cocks his head to the left. “We haven’t left port. You’re in real trouble if you’re feeling it already.” He looks at my half-empty drink and whistles. I watch as his lips pucker up and wonder how they’d feel on my body. I swoon again, but this time he places his hands on my waist to steady me. I lean into him and steal another smell.
“You might want to limit those.” He nods toward my pink drink.
I reluctantly step back. “It’s my first.”
His eyes grow big and I notice that the green of his irises are ringed in the same gold color as the carpet. “Then maybe you should have another,” he teases. He waves to the bartender who mixes up another pink drink. He shoves a blue umbrella on the top and slides it across the bar to me.
“Do you think it’s wise?” I ask.
Asa leans in and whispers in my ear. “Wise isn’t always fun. Enjoy the cruise, Libby. I hope I see you again.” He swings to face the bartender. “Put that on my tab.”
“No, I can take care of it.” I push my room card toward the bartender.
Asa stops my progress by gripping both of my hands in his. “Libby, giving you an orgasm on the beach has been my greatest pleasure.”
My mouth drops open for a second. “No, it’s a Sex On the Beach. It has nothing to do with orgasms.”
He leans forward, kisses my cheek. “Then you’ve been doing it all wrong, sweetheart.” He turns and walks away.
I pick up the drink and empty the glass in three gulps. My intention is to cool off the fire that Asa built in me, but instead, the alcohol goes straight to my head. I say goodbye to the bartender and stumble my way to the elevator.
I enter and press floor eight—the concierge floor. The rooms are larger and the amenities more comprehensive. The only thing Justice’s free cruise doesn’t cover is alcohol, but after drinking my quota of sex-inspired drinks, I decide that water will be my drink of choice from here on out.
I sway down the long corridor until I’m standing in front of room 8096. No damn way. Red beads hang from the handle and a giggle sounds from behind the door. My sister is here to write a review for the travel blog she works for. I wonder if she’ll see anything besides the crisp white sheets of the bed. Part of me is annoyed, and part of me is envious.
I pound on the door and say a little too loudly, “You better not be on my bed.” Something thunks against the door. That’s my signal to leave.
A few minutes later, I’m on the top deck where a band plays near the pool. I find an empty seat and take in the scene around me. Bikini-clad women dance around the edge of the pool while men shop the selection. The closer we get to sailing time, the more crowded the deck becomes. I search the area for Asa the Pirate, but he’s nowhere in sight.
Fifteen minutes later, Justice appears holding the hand of a pretty blond man. He’s the kind of man who beats you to the mirror every morning and borrows your flat iron and concealer. I have to give her credit though, she grabs life by the balls and, oh boy, does her life consist of lots of balls.
Justice scans the room looking for her next yes. Some would call her easy, but there’s nothing easy about Justice. She knows what she wants and goes after it. I wouldn’t call that easy. I’d call that motivated. Unfortunately, I don’t have the same drive in me.
I wave to grab her attention and she rushes over to me. “Oh, my God! What an amazing way to start a week.”
She waves her hand in front of her face like a fan. Her once perfectly-styled hair is mussed with that just-got-laid look and her eyes have that sleepy contented haze that I’ve never achieved.
“You didn’t screw him on my bed, did you?”
She rolls her eyes and smiles. “No, we did it on the desk.”
