"Yeah, I slept like the dead. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I got to my room and passed out." She laughed a little, flushing as she apologized again for being late. "I'm usually obsessed with being on time."
He shook his head. "Relax. Best thing about being on vacation is not having to worry about being on time. Besides, if I was going to punish you for something, it would have been all the meals you missed," he added in a light, teasing tone that didn't stop her from freezing in her seat.
Her mouth opened in a soundless 'O' of surprise as she met his eyes and then quickly looked away, flushing. Her body reacted instantly to the implied threat, and she shifted in her seat as she tried to find a comeback.
"Not that it's my job, of course. Just sayin', if you were mine, we'd have had words about unhealthy behaviors," he added after letting her stew in her own juices for a long, silent minute. She could hear the sternness in the voice, but there was also a layer of amusement. He knew precisely how she'd react to hearing that.
The fact that he so obviously knew exactly what her hot buttons were was unnerving and put her off balance. The words themselves, well, it wasn't just embarrassment she was feeling. Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to his large hands, and she was picturing them on her body, gripping her possessively, caressing her skin, punishing her. She couldn't gather her thoughts enough to actually reply before the waitress came over, all smiles, and interrupted.
It was torture, to sit through a list of the specials and place their drink orders, all while feeling his eyes fixed firmly on her. Once the waitress had left to give them more time to look over the menu, she tried to change the subject. "So, what made you decide to do a cruise?" she asked in a falsely bright voice.
"I like cruises. They're an interesting way to see new places, and there're always plenty of ways to relax when you don't feel like exploring. But is that really what you want to talk about?" he asked softly. "Or did you want to tell me to fuck off and then lecture me for implying I'd ever have the right to punish you?" He sat back in his chair with a challenging stare and waited to see what she'd say.
The moment she'd opened her mouth, the words started to pour out of her, gushing out of control, and she couldn't have stopped them if she tried. "I kind of would like to tell you to fuck off. But I also kind of want to tell you to go ahead and punish me if you think I deserve it. And it's crazy because I just met you and I don't know anything about you, but I'm so lost and desperate and I just…" she trailed off.
"You just want to belong to someone?" he asked gently.
"Yeah, I guess that's it. After a year of being his and then getting pushed out into the cold suddenly, I'm not really sure how to manage now on my own. I want to be strong and independent and tell you to go fuck yourself because I'm an adult woman. But I'm so attracted to your dominance that it's hard not to throw myself at you," she admitted honestly.
He nodded thoughtfully. "Kind of a dilemma you have there." He looked over to see the waitress returning with their drinks and tapped the menu. "Know what you want yet?" he asked.
She dropped the menu flat on the table and ran her finger down the list of entrees, looking for something familiar. "The six-layer lasagna, I think." She loved lasagna; it was one of her favorite Italian dishes and pretty much what she always ended up ordering, since she wasn't the most adventurous eater.
The waitress, Darlene, set their drinks down. Katherine had gone with a simple iced tea to help re-hydrate after her time in the sun, and she hadn't realized how thirsty she was until it was sitting in front of her. The glass was half empty before Darlene left with their orders, but she promised to return with a refill quickly.
Jack sat back in his seat and sipped the soft drink he'd ordered, no alcohol for him, either, which had surprised her. "So, here's the thing. You're floundering because you went from being tightly controlled to no rules at all. It happens in any breakup, but with submissive women, it can be a real issue. You're a smart girl, and you don't need to be told to eat or sleep or not to get drunk, but you're used to the control so you're going a little wild without it." He had a way of speaking like he knew her far too well, but he'd added a hint of a questioning tone in case she wanted to disagree.
He looked at her, waiting to see if she had any comment to make on his insightfulness, until she finally gave a small nod. "And, I don't know you well, but I'd guess maybe there was a little bit of self-sabotaging going on, too—maybe if he doesn't care about you anymore, then why should you bother to take care of yourself?" he pressed gently.
That was uncomfortably on target, and she nodded again, finishing her iced tea in a long swallow as an excuse not to reply verbally, because she honestly didn't know what she could say to that. He was right; ever since Christopher had dumped her, she'd gone out of her way to break every rule he'd ever given her and some he'd never even thought to give her, because they were so basic. There'd been this idea that maybe if he saw she was incapable of surviving on her own, he'd change his mind, which was ridiculous, because how would he even know what she was doing? She hadn't been to work since he'd dumped her, since she'd had the week scheduled off to prepare for the trip anyway, and he hadn't checked on her, so clearly he didn't care all that much about how she was doing.
The waitress bustling over with refills and a basket of breadsticks gave her a little time to think about what she was going to say. "You're right, but I don't really know what to do about it. You know, it's…" She shrugged, shredding hot bread over her plate.
"It will get better, easier, after a while. You have to give yourself time to deal with the changes, but in the meantime, you can't let yourself fall apart. Cry, scream, break things, if you need to, but keep yourself safe and healthy," he said. He spoke to her like a friend, not like a dominant to a submissive. There was no lecturing feel to it, and she relaxed and began to eat the chunks of freshly-baked bread she'd ripped apart.
The conversation moved to lighter topics over dinner and she found herself smiling again. She enjoyed his company, and it wasn't just because she was rebounding and desperate; he was genuinely fun. "It sounds like you've been everywhere! I'm jealous; this is my first time out of the country," she complained.
"Well, not everywhere, but a lot of places. I love to travel, and I guess you could say I've been exploring the world since I was a little boy. This…" indicating his plate "…is great, but it's nothing like the real stuff in Italy," he said easily. He'd ordered spaghetti and meatballs, and she watched him twirl the pasta expertly on his fork, something she'd never mastered.
"I almost went to France when I was in high school, but it didn't work out. I'd love to travel, though." There was a tone of longing in her voice. So many things out there to see and do, but there was always some reason not to go. Christopher always said she needed to step out of her shell, toughen up and stop being so hesitant about everything. That was why she'd agreed to this trip in the first place. But the laugh was on him, because here she was, having a great time, with someone else. That thought actually made her laugh, as she explained it to Jack.
"Sorry, I hate to be the girl who talks about her ex constantly, it's just—"
"It's fine, Katherine. It happened so recently, it's perfectly natural for your mind to pull him up often. I'm going to take it as a challenge to keep you so distracted that he's pushed out of your head," he said, flashing her a smile full of white teeth.
"Please, please do!" she said, the pleading in her voice only partly feigned. She'd love it if she went all week without giving Christopher another thought. "So, tell me more about your travels?" she asked, trying to steer the topic away from herself.
They ate, enjoying the meal, as he told her about the various places he'd visited. There were many she'd never even heard of, and he seemed to have little anecdotes for each one. It made her hungry to see those places and experience the things he had. "You make it all sound so wonderful," she sighed.
"It is. Every place has its own unique flavor, something special
that you can only see there," he said as he sipped his drink.
"But, there are also problems—not knowing the language or not knowing how much to pay, places are dangerous." She rattled off a list of her fears, the things that had kept her from traveling.
"Well, sure, but there are problems at home, too, right? Sometimes, things not going smoothly is part of the adventure. If everything was safe and the same, what would be the point of going?" he pointed out reasonably, and she had to admit that much.
"You're really easy to talk to, Jack. Not like, well, not like other people. Most people think I'm just being silly and overly cautious," she admitted as she snuck a look at his face.
He had a drop of sauce at the corner of his lip and it made her grin. Up until now, he'd seemed so perfect that it was nice to see him being a little messy.
"Hmm." He seemed to think about his response for a few seconds. "I think you are cautious, but overly cautious? I don't know; I think that depends on whether or not it's stopping you from doing things you want to do. Maybe you just needed the right push to step out of your comfort zone," he suggested with a hint that maybe he could give that push.
"I, well, maybe." She paused and then tapped the side of her mouth. "You've got some sauce—"
He pulled the napkin out of his lap, giving his mouth a quick wipe and then raising his eyebrow in confirmation that he'd gotten it. She nodded, and they both laughed, relaxed and easily. And she didn't wonder, even for a second, if he'd be mad or embarrassed that she pointed out the flaw. They agreed to share a dessert and continued the relaxed chatting over the decadent chocolate cake that was almost too rich.
After they finished eating, they took a stroll down the cobblestone street to let their food settle before the dancing. It was fun to walk and peek through the windows of various upscale boutiques. The windows all had signs explaining that they could ship purchases, but she wondered why people would come all this way just to buy the same designer brands they could get at home. She intended to do some shopping at the ports, but it would be for exotic purchases, not this kind of stuff, so she had no interest in buying from these shops.
Window shopping was its own kind of fun, though, especially when they could make fun of the over-priced kitschy items and get to know each other better by doing so. They took their time investigating that floor of the ship and, eventually, made their way to the nightclub. The heavy thumping of the music warned them that they were getting closer before they turned a corner and saw the flashing lights.
She burst into laughter at the man in the white polyester jumpsuit at the entrance. He was doing the iconic disco pointing movement and trying to engage cruise guests in the dramatic fun. She slipped her arm through Jack's and watched, laughing. To her relief, she realized he was right; the employees were dressed in seventies style, but the cruise guests were mostly either dressed casually or like she was, in date clothes.
They had to show Mr. Disco their over twenty-one wristbands to get into the club, which was an adults-only venue, but after that, they sailed right in and found a table to settle down and order drinks, alcoholic ones this time. With a full meal in her and a night of dancing ahead, he seemed fine with her drinking and didn't comment when she asked the waitress what she recommended. "Oh, the Saturday Night Boogie is far out," she said, pitching her voice to be heard over the music. "Tequila, lemonade and soda water. I love it." The bubbly server was dressed like a hippy in a short skirt with fringes, peering at them over round-rimmed glasses with a crooked smile.
"I'll try it," Katherine said with a slight hesitation. She'd had a bad experience with tequila in the past, but this would be diluted with other things so it would probably be fine, she hoped.
"Just scotch on the rocks," Jack said.
"Right on; I'll be right back with your drinks!" she said as she strolled off with a shimmy to her hips that made the fringe dance across her thighs.
Jack's eyes followed the movement with interest, and Katherine laughed. "I should have known you'd be an ass man," she said.
He snorted, "I admire all the parts equally, but there's nothing like a nice, round, spankable ass," he said, smirking as her face immediately flamed.
She made a sound that was a bit like a panicked squeak, but he was already getting up and holding out his hand instead of letting her stew in the embarrassed rush of desire that had flooded her body. "Want to dance?" It wasn't really a question, and the second she took his hand, he was pulling her to her feet and leading her to the dance floor. Some people were making an attempt to actually disco, but most were treating it like any music with a beat.
To her surprise, Jack actually knew how to do the moves, and she tried to copy him. He couldn't possibly be old enough to have danced in the seventies, but somehow, what he was doing fit the music perfectly. Her clumsy attempts to follow him mostly ended up looking silly and uncoordinated, but she wasn't the only one. There was a lot of laughing.
The rest of the night was a blur, with way too much dancing, interspersed with way too much drinking—for her. She vaguely recalled him suggesting she should slow down on the alcohol, but she was having too much fun to listen. She lost count of how many drinks she had, but when he escorted her out of the club, she was hanging on him and having trouble seeing straight.
"C'mon, Katherine. Let's get you back to your room for some sleep. Don't think you'll enjoy the hangover you'll have in the morning," he said.
She could hear the hint of a lecture in his voice, and it made her sulky. It was a vacation; why shouldn't she drink a little too much? "Oh, stop being so responsible, Jack!" She threw her arms around his neck and smeared her lips across his in a sloppy kiss. There was instant chemistry, and his strong arm snaked around her and pulled her up tight against him, turning the brief kiss into a deep exploration of her mouth before he pulled back with reluctance.
"Things might have gone a different way tonight, darlin', but I'm not going to take advantage of a girl who's had too much to drink," he said firmly as he maneuvered her into the elevator.
"That's r-ridiculous! I'm not being advantaged! Or…taken…of…I know what I'm doing!" she insisted, stumbling over the words, which probably didn't help her case much.
"Uh-huh. I see that," he said mildly. "Where's your room?" he asked.
She put a stubborn look on her face, bottom lip rolling out in a pout. "I'm not telling you. Take me to yours!" she demanded.
"If I take you to my room, you're going to end up over my knee, and I promise it won't be fun," he said. There was a growl to his words that made her straighten up nervously. Somehow, she really didn't think he was joking around.
"Fine," she sighed, looking away from him and pouting. "F deck," she muttered. To avoid looking at him, she was half-turned and stuck looking at herself in the mirror. Her petulant expression surprised her, and she tried to wipe it off her face, but she was terrible at hiding how she was feeling while drunk—another reason she usually avoided drinking much.
He pressed the button for her floor, and when they arrived, he took her by the arm again, helping her to walk because the combination of the moving ship and the alcohol had her weaving without his help. "Which way, Katherine?"
She reluctantly gave him directions down a series of long halls and turns until they reached her room, and she fumbled for her key card until he took it from her and opened the door. His eyebrows went up with surprise as he looked around the grand suite. "Nice digs," he commented as he pushed her in ahead of him.
"Yeah, Christopher got a good deal for the off season, and it was supposed to be a special trip." She shrugged a little as her eyes filled with tears. Since she was avoiding looking at him, it wasn't any trouble to keep her upset from being obvious, and she walked over to pull the drapes open to show him the small private balcony. "Nice, right?
It was, but there wasn't much to be seen at the moment with very little moon to cut the inky darkness of the vast ocean. She sighed and kicked off her heels, dropping down on the bottom
of the king-sized bed while her fingers played with the hem of her skirt.
"You need to drink a glass of water before you sleep, and, if I were you, I'd set out some aspirin to take first thing, when you wake up," he said. He was ignoring her attitude and the fact that she'd started to slide her skirt up to expose her thighs.
"Jack, don't you think I'm pretty? Don't you like me?" she asked in a pleading tone. "I want you to stay."
"I know what you want, but that's not what's going to happen. What's going to happen is you're going to bed, and I'm going back to my room. And then, tomorrow, we'll meet for breakfast and talk about what we're going to do," he said. His voice was all business, but his eyes were firmly fixed on the slowly rising skirt that was close to exposing her panties to view.
"But…" She paused, and her alcohol-addled mind churned, trying to figure out what she could say to get what she so desperately wanted—him. She wanted to peel the clothes off his body and lick every inch of his skin. She wanted to run her hands over that lean physique and explore his muscles. She wanted him to make her body sing with desire. And she really didn't want to be alone.
"No, Katherine. As much as I want you, I'm not interested in a drunk woman who will regret everything the next day, when she sobers up. 'Sides that, I'd just as soon you actually remember our first time, if there's going to be one. So, goodnight, and I'll see you for breakfast," he said.
He dropped a light and chaste kiss on her forehead and slipped out the door, closing it behind him. With an inarticulate snarl of anger and embarrassment at being rejected, she jumped up and ran over to the door, flinging it open to shout, "You're an ass—" but she stopped short in confusion. The hallway was completely empty. It was a long hall, and there was a clear view to the end. Jack wasn't there. There was no way he could have moved that fast, was there?
She stood there for a minute and then went back inside and closed the door. Had it taken her longer than she thought to get to the door? She was drunk and kind of dizzy, so maybe. She sighed and let herself fall back on the bed with a groan of frustration. Her body was tight and aching with need. She wanted to be touched, by him. She might have done something about it on her own, but somehow, she thought that would just frustrate her more.
In Time for Love (Timeless Love Book 1) Page 5
