Rock the Boat

by Gia Riley

  “Do those things matter?”

  “Well, no, but it would make this seem a little less reckless.”

  Smiling against her skin, I lift my head. “No matter how fast or slow we go, the fact that I’m from New York won’t really change what I’m about to do to you.”

  I wait for her to argue, but when she doesn’t, I dip my tongue into her. Her entire body stiffens, but I can tell my greedy girl wants more. Her hand finds the back of my head, gripping me tightly as she rocks against my face. Lark tastes exactly as I imagined—as sweet as they come. “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

  The only time I do stop is to replace my mouth with my fingers, rubbing small circles around her clit, still never entering her. Her hips buck against my hand when I find her sweet spot. She sits up far enough to wrap her fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me closer until her lips are attacking mine. Her tongue flicks against mine, greedily.

  With my free hand, I pat the air around me until my hand finds the drum sticks lying on top of the stool next to the speaker. Larks’ so focused on my mouth and the pleasure I’m giving her, she has no idea what’s coming.

  I suck on her tongue one last time before pulling my mouth away from hers. She whimpers, the loss unwelcomed, but she doesn’t have time to argue because I push the top of the first stick into her mouth. At first she’s hesitant, but once she realizes this is for her own benefit, she wraps her mouth around the end of it, sucking hard. All I can do is imagine what her lips would look like wrapped around my cock. “That mouth, Lark.”

  She looks up at me, her innocent eyes betraying the little vixen that she’s become. Her mouth sucks even harder, her tongue swirling around the tip of the stick, no doubt showing me what it would be like if I was in her mouth instead.

  “You’re so damn sexy,” I tell her before I pull the stick of her mouth. She holds onto it a moment longer before letting it go with a pop of her lips. I trace a trail down her chest, between her breasts and over her stomach until I reach the top of her skirt that’s bunched around her waist. I could take it off, but I leave it where it’s at. Still rubbing her clit with my left hand, I push the stick into her drenched pussy with my other.

  Even though she watched every inch the stick has traveled, she still gasps when it enters her. “Do you want more?”

  “Yes, I need more, Easton.”

  I grab the other stick off the stool and repeat the exact same trail down her body. This time when I get to her pussy, I run the tip over her aching clit. Her head falls back, knocking against the speaker. Her hands frantically grasp the sides as she braces for the orgasm that’s about to rock her entire body.

  I work each stick into it’s own pattern—in and out, around and around until I’m positive I’ve created the perfect song. “Your body is my favorite rhythm, Lark.”

  “Easton, I can’t. I’m so close.”

  “You can, Lark.” And she does as soon as I push the second stick inside of her. Her hips buck and she thrashes her head from side to side. She pants through each wave of her orgasm as she tries to absorb it. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—my drumsticks inside of her, her chestnut curls spread out around her head, and her heels clenching me so tightly, I’m going to be left with marks on my back.

  Once she stops shuttering, she lays in silence for a minute before sitting up and covering herself. “It’s a little late to be bashful, don’t you think.”

  She rests her head against my stomach while I stoke the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her thick hair. “I’m not—I’m just trying to figure out what the hell just happened.”

  I tuck the drum sticks in my back pocket, and lift her chin with my index finger. She hesitates, but I wait until she looks me in the eyes, never wanting her to feel ashamed for making music with me. Finally, with her chilling, blue eyes, she sees me. “I think we just happened, Lark. And it was fucking perfect.”

  She blushes like she’s trying to comprehend what it must have been like from my perspective. “I’ve never—I don’t know what came over me.”

  I did warn her I’d make her forget his name. Maybe now she’ll realize I’m not joking when I say those things. But regardless, I want her to own what happened. I stroke her cheek, making sure she understands when I tell her, “Don’t apologize for taking what you need. I’ll give it to you.”

  She nods her head, but the blush still creeps down her neck and across her chest. “I feel like saying thank you is weird.”

  “Then don’t say it. I don’t expect you to thank me for making you come.”

  “Okay. We’ll just have an unspoken agreement that whatever that was, it was really good.” I try not to laugh because I don’t want her to shy away from me. In no way would I ever make fun of her, especially after being intimate, but her sudden innocence and the way she can go from sultry to angelic in a matter of minutes is like a drug. A drug I could quickly become addicted to. She only makes it worse when she asks, “Now what?”

  “That’s up to you. There are no rules when it comes to hooking up.”

  “Oh, I guess I assumed I would return the favor.”

  “No expectations. No assumptions. Remember?”

  “Right,” she whispers.

  Leaning in, I hand her torn panties back to her before kissing her hard on the mouth. Our tongues meet briefly and while it would be so easy to finish what we started right here, I use every ounce of willpower I possess to walk away from her. This can either be the start of a fun as hell week, or the ending of one of the hottest nights I’ve had in a really long time. I decide to leave the choice up to her. “I’m in Room 309. Come find me when you want more.”

  The tequila isn’t responsible. There’s a good chance I had more than a little bit of liquid courage coursing through my veins when Easton laid me down, but I knew what I was doing, and I wanted as much as he was willing to give me.

  No matter how much I wanted it, I expect to feel guilty when I hop off the speaker, but I’m actually more relieved than anything. It may have been extremely out of character for me to hook-up with a guy I’d only known for a little over an hour, reckless even, but as soon as I spotted him at the bar, I knew I was in for the ride of my life. I didn’t give away the fact that I recognized him as the lead singer of Midnight Fate. I was afraid if I made too big a deal out of it, he’d think I only wanted him because of who he was.

  It wasn’t his celebrity status that drew me in, it was the way he looked at me—like I was worth having. Whether or not he would screw me over tomorrow, I’d at least be completely worthy of this moment. It was evident in the sincerity of his eyes as he spoke to me while playing with the bar napkin in front of him. He looked up at me every couple seconds, hanging onto every word I said. Easton was interested, but his mystery scared me a little. Why would someone as successful as him be hiding away on a ship when he could be living a life of luxury elsewhere? There was no easy answer—at least nothing that made sense. What could have happened to make him run away from the rest of the world?

  Even if he was hiding something from me, I never once saw that kind of intensity in Grant’s eyes. Even when we were at our best, it was never like that. We may have had some earth shattering sex while we were together, but the love we shared was tainted once I saw Grant was having even better sex with someone else. It had to be better than we shared, or why else would he need to go to her?

  Regardless of Grant’s choices, I wasn’t expecting to leave the theater with options. The girl that came alive for the first time in a really long time, had no idea one man could leave such an impact on her in such a short time. But tonight, I was schooled. Tonight, Easton showed me how a real man pleasures a woman, and even though I told Noelle I wasn’t into random hook-ups, and that I needed to feel something in order to have sex with a guy, I went against all my principles without a second thought. Do I regret it? No, I can’t. Not after what he just did to me—how he so easily gave me exactly what I needed without even asking
what I wanted.

  Even with so little information about who he is, I have a feeling the best way to get to know Easton Beck is to listen to what he’s not saying. There’s something about the way his eyes tell stories and his body ends each and every statement with the perfect punctuation. You can’t replace those moments with words. You have to feel those conversations with your body and interpret them in your soul.

  I want him to be waiting for me on the other side of the theater door, admitting he should have taken me with him when he left. Only once I open the door, the small lobby is empty. The photography stand that’s normally full of pictures is dark—the marquee sign announcing the ship’s Broadway At Sea production, unlit.

  If I hadn’t experienced the last half hour, I’d think it was a figment of my imagination. But I was paying attention. Something happened—something that would change the course of the week. I wasn’t quite sure how, yet, but I knew the choice was mine. That alone made me happy.

  The sudden shift in my mood was like the tide, and I needed to decide if I wanted to stay close to shore where it was safe, or if I wanted to venture further out to sea where the risks could either make me or break me.

  I have time to make my final decision—even if I’m already leaning so far in one direction it will be hard to convince myself otherwise.

  Noelle warned me that this trip would change me. I just didn’t think I’d be tested so soon. I don’t expect her to be in the room when I get there, but she’s sitting with her back against the headboard, flipping through the channels on the TV. When she sees me, she tosses the remote next to her on the mattress, her body language somewhat defeated. “Thank god you’re back. I’m starving.”

  “I thought you were going out.”

  “We had some champagne at the bar and walked around for a little while. It was nice.”

  “Nice? Not great though?”

  Disappoint flashes across her face. “Not really. My expectations have been astronomical. I think I set the bar too high. I thought it would be so magical—like love at first sight. I mean, it’s not like I was going to meet him for drinks and screw him or anything, but I realize I need to be more realistic. It’s going to take time to build a relationship.”

  I stare at her, realizing she described exactly how my night has gone so far. “Don’t give up so fast. You can still have all that. He’s probably just shy. This process is intimidating.” I walk over to my closet and take out a pair of shorts and a tank top. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can get something to eat.”

  “A shower? I’m starving, Lark.”

  “I promise I’ll hurry.” Before she has a chance to ask me why I need another shower, I step into the small bathroom, closing the door behind me. I take a second to look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering if I looked any different. I feel different.

  I lean forward, checking my neck for marks. Sure enough, there’s a little reminder of Easton that’s been left behind in the form of a faint bruise. I haven’t had a hickey since high school. It’s nothing I can’t cover with some makeup or my hair, but if I do see him again, he’s going to have to be more careful.

  Careful definitely isn’t a word I would use to describe what happened between us, but I’m content with his adventurous side, especially since I can still feel the way his tongue moved inside me.

  The bathroom door opens, just as I’m stepping out of the shower with my towel wrapped around me. Noelle grabs her brush off the counter before she stares at me. I make sure to turn my head so she can’t see my neck, even if the mark isn’t as noticeable as it feels. “What’s going on with you, Lark?”

  I tighten the towel around my body, trying as hard as I can to keep the smile off my face. It’s not fair to gloat when she’s down. “Nothing. Why?”

  “You seem different than when you left.” I am different, I want to tell her. “Either you really liked Easton or you’re comparing him to Grant and freaking yourself out—I haven’t decided which yet.”

  “It would be impossible not to compare the two, but I’m not going to base my decisions on Grant.”

  She follows me to my closet, not that she has much choice considering it’s right next to the couch. But while I’m busy assuring her I’m not going to stay stuck in the past, I forget about the marks on my neck.

  I feel her stand up and move closer. She leans in, poking at my skin like she isn’t sure if it’s dirt or something more. “A goddamn hickey, Lark!”

  I spin around, clutching my shirt in my hands. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.” She’s never going to drop this. Not in a million years. Noelle thrives off juicy details, and right now, she’s aware I’m hiding a host of them.

  “Lark Williams, you little hoe. This is most definitely something.”

  She lets me find some clothes to put on, but she sits on the end of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for me to start talking. Once I’m dressed, I turn to face her, expecting narrowed eyes and the third degree. Instead, I get a knowing smirk. She’s actually enjoying this. “Well?” she asks.

  “So, Easton’s nice.”

  She laughs so hard, she falls backward on the bed. “What the hell happened? Please, let me live vicariously through you for a little while.”

  “What didn’t happen?” I tell her with a smile on my face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We had drinks—a glass of wine for me followed up by your favorite tequila. I wasn’t wasted, but I had a good buzz going by the time we left the lounge. I heard your voice in the back of my head telling me I lost my edge, so I let him take me to the theater.”

  “The theater? Why there?”

  She’s going to flip her shit when I tell her this, and that brings me so much satisfaction. For once, I have a juicy story to dish. “This is probably a good time to tell you, he’s the lead singer of Midnight Fate. He’s the Easton Beck. His band is currently contracted on this ship. And . . .”

  I don’t get to finish my thought because Noelle is off the bed and standing in front of me with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. “Ohmigod, I love Midnight Fate. Do you even realize how jealous I am of you right now?”

  “I have a pretty good idea. But I thought you were hungry.”

  “I’ve waited this long, you’re going to tell me what happened first.” She sits back down, clutching a pillow in her arms and resting her chin on the top of it. When I take a little too long to gather my thoughts, trying to decide how much I want to tell my best friend, and how much I should leave out, she sits up a little straighter. “Wait, you don’t regret it, right?”

  Her next question is an easy one. I shake my head. “It was the biggest rush I’ve ever felt in my life—or at least in a really long time. I swear he’s more your type than mine, but maybe different is exactly what I need right now. You did say I lost my edge.”

  She thinks about it for a second before nodding her head. “I only know his music, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d typically fall for, but that makes me happy. The polar opposite of Grant is exactly who I would pick for you. I told you the ship had it under control.”

  I wouldn’t say it’s under control. Nothing about Easton seems controlled. He’s the kind of guy who makes his own decisions without answering to others. “This isn’t going beyond this week, especially considering he’s employed here, but a week without expectations is exactly what I’m looking for.”

  “For two people who aren’t heading anywhere, you’re off to a damn good start. I think it’s called chemistry though. Clearly, you have it or you wouldn’t have that mark on your neck and that smile on your face. God, my date was a snooze fest in comparison.”

  “Is Lincoln that bad?”

  “I don’t think he’d be my first choice. I like a rugged guy with a filthy mouth who gets me in all kinds of trouble. Granted those guys usually end up breaking my heart, but hell if it isn’t fun trying.”

  “I think it sounds pretty
awful. You deserve more than a broken heart, Noelle.”

  “It’ll stop breaking once I’m with the right guy. But I feel like if I was with Lincoln long-term, and we broke up, he’d probably just go home and do his taxes or check the stocks. I’m trying to figure out why The Perfect Match has me with a Suit. I’ve never dated a Suit before.”

  “I’ve never dated a musician, but just because you didn’t have an instant spark doesn’t mean one won’t develop over time. Be the Noelle I love, and he’ll see it, too.”

  “The potential is there, so I’m going to see it through, but if he doesn’t make a move tomorrow to show me he’s interested, it’ll be hard not to be disappointed. We only have six more days to make something happen.”

  “It will happen on its own.” I’m a testament to that theory.

  She shakes her head, smiling again. “You lucky bitch.”

  Standing up, I grab my purse and open the door. “Let’s go.”

  She follows behind and we wander around until we find the steakhouse on the fifth level nestled between a boutique and a coffee shop. I scan the menu, trying to figure out what I want, but I find myself discreetly glancing around the room for Easton instead. Luckily, Noelle’s oblivious to my wandering eyes as she sips her sangria.

  “We should check out the casino after this,” I suggest, hoping that if I make plans with Noelle, it will give me more time to gather the courage to go to Easton.

  “Because you feel so lucky tonight? A damn rockstar. What are the chances?”

  “Slim to none, but I can’t help who they matched me up with. You said so yourself.”

  “No, it’s cool. We’ll check out the casino and then hit up the theater.”

  As soon as she says the word theater, my cheeks flame crimson. My pulse spikes and my body temperature rises a few degrees. I’m almost afraid to ask, but I do anyway. “What’s going on in the theater?” My conscious is cackling, and all I can focus on are drum sticks.

  Noelle sets her wine down, laughing at the mortified expression on my face. She’s going to have way too much fun with this. It’s another reason why I’m glad I left out all the major details. The hickey was enough for her to process. “Other than your earlier tryst, a certain rock star has a show tonight.”