by Demi Alex
“You and me,” he repeated, and Charlie threw her head back, called his name as she came.
She trembled over him, her body coloring with pleasure as he stroked down her back and watched her chest heave for air. He coaxed her higher, rubbed his fingers on her pleasure point, but he didn’t let her come. He wanted to see the heat in her eyes as she climaxed, and he was a greedy bastard that hadn’t had his fill. Cradling her body in his arms, he rolled her beneath him and took her mouth.
“You explode like a fucking rocket, baby. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. So damn hot. But this time, you’re going to hold it. I’m going to watch that fuse simmer and burn,” he said, sinking deeper into her sleek heat and rooting against the ecstasy offered him. “You’re not going to come until I say you can come. And that will be after I’ve fucked you good. Fucked you hard. And I’m coming deep inside you.”
She moaned in agreement, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes.
He moved his mouth lower, suckling a nipple and rolling the other between his thumb and finger. He pinched hard enough for her eyes to open and her hips to buck up against him.
“Not yet,” he warned, taking her roughly, knowing he was pushing her limits. Knowing her delayed release would be stronger than any before.
With his mind blank, he pounded into her pulsing heat, his body demanding every piece of her. Every piece. And when she gave it, his name on her lips, he took it. Then he gave, calling her name, truly lost in everything that was Charlie.
“Together, love. Now.”
He wrapped her in his arms and held her as the world shattered.
Eventually, an exhausted Charlie shifted beneath his weight. He rose onto his elbow and pushed her hair off her face. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. Her beautiful and swollen lips turned up in a smile. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Baby, we need to talk,” he said.
“We need to eat,” she replied, turning away and swinging her legs off the edge of the mattress. “I’m starved.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or annoyed,” Charlie said, giggling at Ford’s grumbling that they were wasting time they could have had alone rather than in a restaurant—in public—again.
Ford shrugged, checked his watch for the umpteenth time, and signaled for the waiter to bring them their check.
“I think we should have dessert,” Charlie added, just because she wanted to see him cringe. Surprised at how much she enjoyed getting a rise out of him, she laughed aloud when he did cringe, then laughed even harder when he tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table, grabbed the day bag, and pulled her from her seat because the waiter was taking too long to bring their bill.
“Ford, all you think about is sex.”
“Not so, chère. Even though no one would blame me when it comes to you.” Ford stopped walking and she bumped into his solid side.
“When it comes to me?” Charlie asked as his hand dropped to her waist and his fingers curled into her soft flesh.
“Yeah, you. Other than the obvious—meaning how fucking gorgeous you are and the way every man in that restaurant cannot keep his eyes off you—you have a beautiful mind and a soul that attracts people. That’s the problem. I want alone time with you.” He held her still, the bag touching the side of her thigh, and stepped into her space. Pressing his hips to hers, he moved his hand into the small of her back, and pulled her even tighter against him. “I don’t care if they look, just not at too much, as long as I get to have this. I get you.”
Shit. Shit. Triple shit. She was so screwed. She wanted him again. Her body hummed at his touch.
“Damn Paul and his suggestion of bodies humming,” she mumbled, dropping her face against his shoulder and closing her eyes.
“What’s that?” Ford asked, squeezing her hips and making her look at him.
“Nothing,” Charlie replied, but shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “Something my boss said. He was being silly when he gave us the assignment and said silly things. It’s silly.”
“Silly?” Ford grinned, shaking his head and smoothing her hair from her face. She felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it. “You’re so adorable. So damn cute. Who says silly like that anymore?”
“I do,” she said, vying for some space and not getting any. She changed tactics. “Get your phone, Ford.”
“Forget the phone,” he said, lowering his head and touching his mouth to hers. “Do you really need to get back to New York? Stay with me for the next voyage.”
She shook her head, but raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. “Wish I could, really wish I could, but the feature is due in a few days. I have to get back and present,” Charlie said, going up on her toes and kissing the man who made her body hum.
His phone vibrated again. He broke the kiss and answered. “Yes.”
Holding her hand, he walked toward the hotel and listened to the caller. After a few minutes of listening without responding, he nodded and veered them in a different direction. “When?”
His face had gone stoic, but he wasn’t angry. More like disappointed.
“No. I understand,” he said. “We’re on our way.” He pointed toward the pier. “Yes. Tell him I have his back. No worries.” Giving her an apologetic look, he lingered at a kiosk while he continued listening.
She released his hand and walked around the stall, surveying all the colorful ceramic goods she believed were made locally. She liked them. They reminded her of their time in the hotel, and she considered buying something to take home. She was about to call the clerk over when someone pulled on her wrist. She turned to find Will.
“Hey, Charlene,” he said, looking through the open kiosk at Ford, who was watching them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Will. Are you enjoying the cruise?”
“You know I am, babe. Like you said, it’s my kind of activity.” He angled closer to her and lifted his chin at the monitoring Ford. “Is he treating you good?”
“He is. He really is.” Charlie smiled and gave her once-friend a quick hug, leaning up to his ear. “Isn’t he hot?”
Will chuckled, staying close and lowering his voice. “He’s hot. I’ll give you that much.” Will glanced back at Ford. “But I don’t trust him. One of my buddies told me he looks familiar, he’s not sure from where, but he doesn’t think that his name is Ford.”
“Technically, your friend is right,” Charlie agreed, not elaborating. She stepped back from Will as Ford rounded the kiosk. I don’t care if they look, just not at too much, as long as I get to have this. I get you. Ford wouldn’t appreciate Will being so close and having a clean look down her dress. She didn’t want any issues, so she held her hand out and gave her man a big smile. It was time for a decent introduction. “Honey, you remember my friend Will. Will, this is Ford.”
The men each tipped a chin up to the other.
“Ford.” Will’s face held no expression.
“William,” Ford said, moving both bags to the same hand and draping his other arm over her shoulders. “Sorry to cut this reunion short, but we need to get going, chère. I need to be back on the ship as soon as possible.”
Will’s gaze flitted to hers and inquired. She sighed, glanced up at Ford, informed him that Will could be trusted, and asked him if he minded if she “shared.” He shrugged, so she turned to Will.
“Ford actually works for the cruise line. He’s undercover as a passenger to make sure policies are being properly observed,” she explained. “So work calls. See you on board?”
“See you on board,” Will said, looking slightly appeased.
“Later.” Charlie waved, and then linked her thumb in Ford’s belt loop. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Ready,” Ford replied, leading her through the shops and restaurants to the pier. He didn’t speak until they’d swiped their cards and passed security. “Ramos, my replacement, needs to catch a flight to Miami im
mediately. His little girl has been admitted into the hospital with a very high fever. His ex isn’t very good at keeping it together when it comes to their daughter.”
“Is she okay?” Charlie asked, concern lacing her voice.
“Ramos thinks it’s just a regular kid thing. Like a virus,” Ford said, his manner calm and collected. “She’s five. Little girls get fevers. But the little beauty is the love of his life, and since I’m still on staff and available, he asked if I could finish off the sailing for him.”
“Of course you could,” Charlie insisted. “He should be with his daughter.”
Ford stopped walking and turned her to him. “I’ll be in uniform. I won’t be able to be with you in the workshops, and—”
“It’s okay,” Charlie said, cupping his face and feathering a thumb over his chiseled jaw. “I’ve got this. I know which ones to attend and which ones to steer clear of. I’ll be okay as long as I get to see you a little.”
“Dinner. I’ll join you then.” He touched his mouth to hers and her lips parted.
When his tongue found hers, she melted into him, wrapped her arms around him and hooked her hands on his shoulders. She could stay like that for hours. Kissing him. Tasting him. But he lifted his head and she saw the hesitation in his eyes.
“What is it?” Charlie asked.
“We need to talk, Charlie. Really need to talk.”
She didn’t want to hear it, so she kissed him again. “Later.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Charlie felt Ford’s absence the moment he left her and went to report to the captain. She knew it was irrational because he was working and still near, but she missed him. She’d grown accustomed to his presence and wanted to be with him.
Reminding herself she wasn’t on vacation, she turned her energy to work. That sufficed for a while, then Quinn insisted she join him for dinner, but explaining what had transpired to her new friends dampened the mood again. Feeling betrayed, they questioned Ford’s intentions toward her. Quinn and Luis tried to explain, but the tension was thick, and dinner was difficult to get through.
Her mood instantly brightened when Ford walked in during dessert. While she’d managed to get a lot of work done, had managed to laugh, and had been tickled to within an inch of her sanity during the sensual massage workshop that Quinn had asked her to join him at, she’d missed Ford. Not a good sign with only a day left on the cruise.
“Good evening,” Ford said to the group, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I hope you’re enjoying dessert.”
“Are you speaking in an official capacity or on a personal level?” Grayson asked. He had been seriously offended when Charlie told the group of Ford’s employment.
“Both,” Ford replied, pulling out his chair and folding his long body into it. “Correction. Personal. On an official level, I’ve heard of no complaints.” He caressed Charlie’s shoulder, squeezing out an apologetic message for placing her in an awkward situation with her new friends. “Allow me to apologize for not being forthcoming when we first met. Our initial contact may have been in an official capacity, but I, we, consider you all friends. And as a friend, I thank you for keeping an eye on my wild girl while I’m forced to be away from her and see to work.”
It didn’t take much more for their friends to accept the cruise-staff Ford at their table and resume chatting over dessert. Charlie passed on invites for the remainder of the evening, and she asked Ford if he had time for a stroll on deck before escorting her to the cabin. He took her hand in his and walked her out of the dining room.
“Technically, I can’t drink in the bar now, but I’d like for us to visit our spot and talk.” Ford swept a finger across her forehead and pushed her hair back. “Even knowing this arrangement is temporary, I’m not liking it. I’m going to inform Georgiou that I’ll honor the rule of no staff in passenger cabins, but I’m bringing you back to my cabin. I want you with me.”
“No.” Shaking her head, Charlie stepped back. “Please don’t.”
Ford looked confused when embarrassment warmed her cheeks, but determination settled in his eyes, and his thumb tilted her chin up so his gaze seared through her. “You’re not shutting me out, chère. If this is about your work, fine. I’ll accept that you need time to work. I’ll give you time the way you give me time. But you’re not pushing me back out after I’ve managed to get through your defenses. We’re in this together.”
Shivers raced up her spine. He was too close. She needed space.
“And don’t give me some bullshit about it being proper, or caring what Georgiou or the rest of the staff will think.” He lowered his head and kissed her. His tongue stroked hers, and she abandoned the bricklaying and melted into him, moaning her agreement.
“It’s you and me,” he said softly, smoothing his thumb over her lower lip. “Care to share what’s bothering you?”
She wasn’t sure what he was looking for or what to say, so she shook her head and licked her lower lip.
“You keep using that tongue in any way, don’t expect me to put off speaking to Georgiou about moving you into my cabin for a single minute.”
“Don’t,” she breathed, trailing her palm down his abs and hooking her fingers in his belt. “If you do, it’ll be admitting defeat.”
His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head. “Baby?”
Earlier in the day, specifically the time she’d spent naked with Ford, she’d grasped on to the hope she could have it all. She wasn’t ready to let go. Love, great sex, and even a successful career danced within reach. If one crushed the other, it spelled defeat.
“Ford, please understand where I’m coming from.” She changed her tone and went for serious logic, rather than emotional upheaval. “You said you’d help me earn the byline. You’d help keep me focused. I won’t focus if I’m in your cabin. I won’t do my job, and you’ll set a bad precedent for your staff. Can you imagine the rest of the crew doing something like that?”
Ford wrapped his fingers around her forearms and gave them a squeeze. “I don’t see your point. But I’ll support you. Any way you want.” He relaxed his hold on her arms and took her hand. He walked through the corridors and to her cabin door, not saying another word until he took her keycard and inserted it into the lock. “Do what you think you need to do. Once we’re in Miami, all supportive promises are done. Over. No more bull. No more keeping me at a safe distance.”
Holding her gaze, he touched his lips to hers, sending shivers through her body and stoking the hope for having it all. Then he pushed on her door and motioned for her to step inside. She did. He turned and strode down the hall and back to work.
* * *
Quinn cancelled yoga, but Charlie was determined to stick with it. She promised herself a latte as a reward, and was waiting in line for her prize when Will came up behind her and cupped her elbow. His gaze scanned the patrons, probably for Ford.
Not that the tall Cajun could be missed, but she could have saved him the effort of looking. Ford was working. She was on her own.
Will planted a friendly kiss on her cheek. “Good-morning, gorgeous. Nice to see you’re alone.”
“Good-morning to you,” she replied, glad her friend was back to himself. “You’re cheery today.”
He nodded, but then shook his head. “We need to talk,” he said, adding an espresso to her latte order. Will handed his keycard to the barista and signed for their coffees, then led her to a bistro-style seating area. He didn’t continue smiling though. He didn’t attempt any more small talk. He just sat across from her and leaned his elbow on his knees.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, wrapping cold fingers around the hot coffee cup for support. “Why the look?”
“His name isn’t Ford. It’s Keaton.”
“I already know. It’s not a big deal.”
“Okay. You know his name, but why are you standing for being treated like that?” Will asked, clearly annoyed. “After what you’ve been through with dickhead James, yo
u know you deserve more.”
She searched his eyes, but couldn’t piece together his problem. “Will, I’m not following you.”
“He left a woman like you to sleep alone on a damn kink cruise,” Will spat. “I saw the two of you last night. Saw him leave you at your cabin. You deserve more.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if to maintain control. “I know you said that nothing more than friendship can ever happen between us. I accepted it—after a lot of thought and kicks in the ass for not being more obvious with my feelings from the start—I understand why you said that. But I’ll always care for you and look out for you.” He rubbed his palm down her arm and squeezed her elbow. He wasn’t being obnoxious or rude, simply protective like he’d always been. “Ford, Keaton, whatever-the-fuck his name is, isn’t doing right by you.”
“That’s for me to decide.”
“We’ve talked about this, Charlene. A proper man looks after his woman. He would never leave her alone on a romantic cruise; rather he’d make her climb the walls with pleasure. He’d make her his number-one priority. Not his fucking job. Don’t repeat the same mistake—”
She held up her hand, palm forward, and pushed up from the seat. “Conversation is done. I’m not discussing Ford with you. Later, Will.” She turned on her heels and left him sitting alone at the small table. Will had managed to ruin the calm she’d worked an hour for on deck.
Ford was nothing like James. Nothing. Will was so off-base it wasn’t funny.
Determined to stay on track, she hurried to her cabin, retrieved her laptop from the safe, and set up on the balcony. An hour later, room service delivered a tray of pastries and coffee. She snagged a mini-croissant, devoured it in four bites, then grabbed a second before she reached into the drawer and checked her phone. She had multiple text messages from Ford going back to last night.
Sleep well and dream of me, chère. I’ll be dreaming of you.
That had been five minutes after she’d watched him walk away.
