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I gasp. “You know I have to work this week. I have a book to edit and I need that desk for work.”
She grabs her stomach, bends over and laughs. “I knew I could get you riled. We didn’t do it on the desk. In fact we didn’t do it at all, but that man has an appetite, and I happily fed him.”
I put my fingers in my ears and make nonsense noise so I don’t have to hear her talk about the amazing oral abilities of Blondie.
The band continues to play and people continue to appear. Everyone but Asa. It’s ridiculous of me to focus on him. I’m not his type. I bet Asa is the type of man who has women tripping over their stilettos just to get in line to have a sliver of his time. He probably takes women who look like cover models to galas and functions every night, whereas I sit at home and edit other women’s fantasies.
Over the loud speaker, the Quarter Master announces a mandatory safety drill and tells everyone to meet in their muster stations for a briefing. I look down at my card and locate my area. It’s C-1, which I find out is the casino.
Half the people milling around the ship are already drunk, and I wonder how safe can a ship full of wasted people be, and then I remember that this ship has one crew member for every two guests. So at least there’s that.
Justice and I walk into the casino and take a seat at the blackjack table. Leaning against the Lucky Seven slot machine is Asa. That means he’s also in concierge class. Feeling like a stalker staring at him, I turn my seat around and wait for further instruction. It takes everything in me to not twist my neck to get another glimpse of the only man on my ‘yes’ list.
Two
Asa
There she is with her almost black hair hanging down her back. Her heart-shaped ass sits like a ripe peach ready for plucking. My mouth waters.
This isn’t supposed to be a pleasure cruise. It isn’t even a working vacation. The Southern Cross is taking her maiden voyage, and I want to make sure our guests are getting the best possible service, but Libby distracts me. She caught my eye the minute I walked on board and I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind.
I stare at her.
She sees me and recognizes me. It’s obvious when her eyes land on me. Those big beautiful slate-blue orbs open wide. She appears embarrassed and turns around to give me a view of her finer assets.
I lean against the slot machine, letting the cold metal frame cool down the heat coursing through my body. There is something about Libby that interests me. I’m not sure if it’s the innocence in her eyes or the sinfulness of her curvy body, but I want her. In fact, I’ve wanted no one as much as I want her.
The Quarter Master churns on about the safety features of the ship. The crew shows the proper way to put on a life preserver vest and before I know it, the muster drill is complete.
“Aren’t you Asa Cross?” A blonde steps in front of me. I look over her shoulder and watch as Libby disappears into the crowd. Frustrated, I look down at the woman. She’s tall and slender and sports her own silicone flotation devices. They aren’t nearly as lovely as Libby’s. Although I didn’t get a good look, I know Libby’s breasts are natural by the way they shift when she moves. I like breasts that are natural and wiggle and jiggle in my hands. The woman before me is anything but natural from her over-plumped lips to the bags attached to her chest.
“I am Asa. And you are?” It doesn’t pay to be rude to the guests, even though I would rather be anywhere but here.
She holds out her hand and the light catches the stones glued to her nails. I suppress an inward groan. “I’m Gretchen Hollander and I’m so excited to meet you.”
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She bounces up and down but nothing moves.
“It’s my pleasure, Gretchen.” I take her hand and give it a firm shake. The kind of shake I give a colleague. If it were Libby offering me her hand again, I’d bring it to my mouth and kiss her soft palm right before I’d suck her fingers into my mouth.
“We’re about to set sail and I like to be on the bridge for that. I’m sure you understand.” I float her a half-hearted smile and let go of her hand. “Enjoy your cruise.”
Her smile falters. “Maybe we can have a drink later?”
“Maybe.” There isn’t a chance, but I’m not an asshole. I turn around and walk away leaving Gretchen with little wind in her sails. There’s not a hope or a prayer I’ll be around for her later. She’s not my type. Libby is my type. She cute and sweet and curvy and I hope to see her again soon.
Hope is a good thing to have. I hope for a lot of things. I hope the maiden voyage is successful. I hope the weather is beautiful while we sail through the Caribbean. I hope that by the end of this cruise I have Libby in my bed.
I enter the halls of the ship, the places no one but crew get to go, and wind my way up to the bridge where Captain Christos stands at the helm. There is no wooden wheel to steer the ship. The room resembles the cockpit of a plane. Computers control everything from the navigation systems to the guest cabin temperatures.
“Looks like smooth sailing all the way to Grand Cayman.” Alex is in his early forties and has been sailing my ships for the last ten years.
“That’s good to hear. I was worried about that storm front that was off the coast of Cuba, but it looks like it broke up before it gained momentum.” Rough seas aren’t a problem for the ship, but they are an issue for people who drink too much or have weak stomachs.
“You’re joining my table for Captain’s Night, correct?” He lifts his black bushy brows in a way that says, don’t-make-me-do-it-alone.
“I’ll be there and I’m bringing a guest.” The thought occurs to me in that second that Libby could be my dinner companion for the night. I must locate her room number and invite her.
