Blissful Summer: Make You Mine AgainUnraveled

by Cheris Hodges

  Riker let her lick into his mouth, and she was aware of the condom package tearing open. “Sure you still want this to happen? Want me to do you?”

  Ona’s lips parted but no sound came out. So she steadied his erection and ground against him, meeting him, needing him exactly like this. And yeah, he did know her. He knew how to lean against her and thrust to inflict almost painful pleasure. He knew to cradle her and to move his mouth silkily over hers as he rocked her deeper into the sand.

  Afterward, Ona made it back into her lace bottoms only, and Riker into his jeans, and they were sandy and sticky and too hot to stay in one place. Together, his arm slung over her shoulders and hers wrapped around his waist, they started walking deeper into the protection of the trees.

  “Ona.”

  Nicholas, in his polo shirt and khakis, so clean and expensive, stood in their path. His gaze stalled on her breasts long enough for Riker to find it appropriate to dip and lick one of her nipples and murmur, “Ona, want to tell your old friend here that you’re busy?”

  “She’s busy doing what?” Nicholas said venomously.

  “Private school education and you can’t figure that out for yourself?”

  “Son of a—”

  “Nick, please leave,” Ona interrupted. “Riker and I are busy, so if you don’t mind... Actually, I don’t care whether you mind or not. I’m on my own time right now, but I’ll see you and everyone else at dinner.” Changing course, she began to lead Riker in the other direction.

  But he stopped her. “You said that to piss him off or to make him jealous?”

  “I’m done with that plan,” she insisted. “I don’t want to make him jealous anymore.”

  “You say that, but he shows up and... Look, about this.” Riker cupped her between the legs, and tense, fascinated, she absorbed every sensation. “Ona, I’m not gonna share it. I’m not sharing you with anybody. Are you okay with that?’

  “Yeah. Nicholas is the past.”

  “All of a sudden? I thought we were being real with each other.”

  “I am. It’s all of a sudden, but that’s the truth. There are no lies.”

  Riker didn’t seem convinced. But after a solemn, “All right,” he picked her up and put her over one shoulder and then started to jog toward the water. “If we’re in the business of not lying, then let’s make what you told Saint Nick true.”

  * * *

  Ona didn’t say no when Riker booked them a suite at the Cove Atlantis. They’d walked in damp, disheveled and speckled with grains of sand, and because Nicholas had already found her topless and wrapped around Riker, she didn’t want to show up to dinner carrying bold evidence of how she’d spent her day at port. While their clothes were being cleaned, she and Riker took turns showering and fell asleep tangled up in sheets with the TV turned to a 1970s American sitcom and the windows open to the ocean.

  Room service woke them up, and they shared a pair of beers before they finally dressed and joined the PAAC brats.

  “So glad you could make it to dinner,” someone said sarcastically as she and Riker claimed a pair of seats at one of the elegantly dressed outdoor tables.

  “I’ll pass on the snark, thanks,” she said brightly. “I’d rather have an appetizer.”

  “Ignore the haters,” Jane advised. “The sex fairies are kind to you. Be glad.”

  Ona tried to eat her four-course meal and not care about anything except the fact that she had a new man in her life, but it was difficult when every time she looked up, she found Nicholas observing her while muttering to someone else. What right did he think he had to believe she owed him anything outside of her direct duties as reunion coordinator? Time and again she’d tried to work for his attention, but he’d refused her every attempt. He didn’t want her, and she deserved better than what he could give. Finally she got Riker’s simple point: she deserved better.

  She was worthy of more than the males from her high school society, from her childhood, could offer her. It didn’t make them wrong or her problematic. It only meant that they weren’t meant to be.

  Stepping into a hallway on an erotic ship and meeting a man who’d open her mind and body to new experiences and ideas? That was meant to be. It was too unexplainable to be anything else.

  After dinner and a rowdy round of drinks, somebody got the reckless idea to give one of the empty wine bottles a spin on the patio. Recruiting resort staff to help clear the center of the space, the men encouraged the women to risk getting their outfits dirty for the sake of a game you just didn’t turn down.

  “Is this Spin the Bottle or Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Ona wanted to clarify as she sat down next to Rajon’s wheelchair. “Since we’re apparently spinning the bottle and sneaking off to the pool for seven minutes with the poor bastard the bottle lands on?”

  “It’s an amalgamation,” Rajon said. “No one’s obligated to get their freak on. Go to the pool and talk, play Rock, Paper, Scissors—doesn’t matter. If you want a quickie, more power to you. Seven minutes is all you get.”

  Cole spun first, and the bottle pointed at someone else’s wife. They disappeared for seven minutes and when they returned to the circle, her husband erupted from a bitter combination of too many drinks and too many questions. Bickering, they left the circle and went into the resort.

  “Tighten the circle,” Regan said. “It’s my turn.” When she spun, the bottle stopped with the nose pointed squarely at Ona.

  “Oh, can we watch?” a man pleaded.

  “No,” Regan replied at the same time that Ona said, “I’m not going to the pool with her.”

  “I want to do it,” Regan insisted. “But we need privacy. So no one’s watching anything.”

  Ona looked to Riker, shrugging as she got to her feet and trailed Regan to the pool. “So how would you like to spend the next seven minutes?”

  The woman was silent for a few moments. Then her shoulders heaved.

  Uh-oh. “Regan? Wh-what’s wrong? It’s just seven measly minutes. Nothing to bawl over.”

  “What you’re doing with Nicholas... Is this retaliation for something I did to you in high school? Was I cruel to you?”

  “You dominated, Regan. A lot of times dominating means skimping on the friendliness. But that’s high school, and I told you earlier at the pier that I’m over that.”

  “Why, Ona? Because you have what you want? You have Nicholas?”

  “I don’t have anyone. If you want to know whether or not he’s—oh, how’d you put it the other day?—boffing me, the answer’s no. I’m with someone else, and I care about this person.”

  “Nicholas has been telling people that you showed him your breasts on the beach.”

  “I was topless on the beach because I was sharing something intimate with Riker. Nicholas found us, that’s all. Tell him to get over it. If you and he would’ve stayed in that workshop yesterday, you both would’ve gotten a look-see right along with everyone else.”

  “Don’t you care about that, being looked at?”

  She used to. She’d declined auditioning for Hair because of the nudity. Now... “Not particularly. Not anymore.”

  “Could you tone it down around Nicholas Callaghan?”

  “Why, Regan?” Suspicious, Ona searched the woman’s eyes. “What the hell is happening with you? He’s a single man—”

  “Wrong!” Tears started to trickle. “Wrong. He’s not single. Nicholas is with me. We’re engaged, Ona. Have been for over a year.”

  Ona sank to a chaise longue. “You must be screwing with me this time.”

  “I’m not. He hasn’t told his family yet. They lost a ton in an awful business venture and have been wanting him to marry strategically. That makes me unsuitable. He says he’ll tell them, but timing is everything.” Regan sat next to her. “Time is something he and I don�
��t have anymore. I’m pregnant.”

  “My lord. Did you sit on the upper deck or something?”

  Pushing back her golden curls, Regan laughed. “Uh-uh, that’s not it. I didn’t know I was pregnant until yesterday. I bought a test at the ship’s pharmacy.”

  “Well, it’s not confirmed, then.”

  “It could be a false positive, but I don’t think so. I think I’m pregnant by a man who’s too afraid to tell his family that he’s going to marry me.” Her mouth curled and she gripped Ona’s hands. “Part of me doesn’t want him, Ona. He’s been flirting with you from the minute he saw you in Miami, and it’s been killing me. And he’s selfish—so selfish. Most of the time when we’re together, he treats me like a blow-up doll. That’s why I have tension in my neck, because all he wants is—”

  “I—I get it.” Ona was going to be sick in this pool. Damn, had she been off the mark. Saint Nick was a bastard. It didn’t seem plausible, but then again, he’d shown Ona similar tendencies. Their moments together had been starkly one-sided.

  “He won’t let me eat bacon.”

  Okay, now that was just wicked. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”

  “He says he doesn’t want me to be fat. It’s for my own welfare.”

  Oh, God. It was true. “Regan—”

  “Seven minutes,” a man hollered out to the pool. He swaggered over to them. “Y’all make out?”

  “No,” Ona said while Regan turned away to wipe her tears.

  “Would you?”

  “Oh, get over it,” Regan huffed, then she grabbed Ona’s face, kissed her cheek and whispered, “Hey, this stays between you and me. Don’t tell anybody about Nick or the engagement or the baby.” Brushing past him, she paused to kiss him full on the lips. “There. Report that to everyone. I’m going inside for bacon.”

  Ona rocked slowly, then got up and sought Riker. “Can we go back to The Lure? I just want to be with somebody I can trust. I need you right now.”

  “C’mon.”

  Walking beside him, she looked back at the gathering to find Nicholas watching her with the empty wine bottle in his hand.

  Chapter 6

  “What are you drinking? A Miller? Let me buy you another.”

  Riker, wound tight since he’d lied straight to Ona’s face yesterday in the Bahamas, didn’t budge on his stool in the ever-packed Sirens’ Song. He didn’t have to. He knew the man who’d approached him at the bar was part of Ona’s group—Cole Stanwyck, the son of a bitch who’d been getting in her way.

  “I got my beer under control,” he said calmly.

  “Guy, listen, all you need to do is overtip the waitress for the first drink. She’ll be hooking you up in no time. Trust me, I know how the more upscale places run. Hell, with my money, I could own this ship.”

  Riker gave his head a quarter turn. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right. Get inside a certain tax bracket and you learn these things. You learn things about women, too. What they’re really after.” Cole put his elbow on the bar, making himself comfortable. “Take Stilts Tracy. She’s had her eye on our classmate Nicholas since high school. You may be dipping your wick in her now, but it’s always been Nicholas for her. I’d tell you to ask her friend Matty Grillo all about it, but seeing as most of him’s in a jar on somebody’s mantel, that makes things a little complicated logistically.”

  “Ona and I are all right.”

  “You think that, but what you don’t know about Ona is she’s from Fishtown. We all had some good times with her way back when, but she’s not trying to go back to Fishtown or anyplace like it. She’s all about moving up in the world. Designer labels, pricey liquor, things men like me can give her without breaking the bank.”

  “Thanks for the tip. But I give her the kind of pleasure that make her forget about designer labels and pricey liquor, and that seems to work out pretty good for us.” Riker’s phone rang and vibrated, and when he pulled it from his pocket, he had to snatch it from Cole’s view. “Take the stool. Buy yourself a nice pricey drink there.”

  Riker took the call outside the lounge. “Thought I’d hear from you before now, Kate.”

  Kate Russ greeted him with an expletive. “Damn you, Riker. For someone so underhanded, you certainly were sloppy about it, using your trust fund to get yourself a cabin on the ship and a suite at the Atlantis. The accountant managing the fund noticed the uncharacteristic activity and contacted me.”

  “He could’ve saved you the trouble and just contacted me.”

  “It’s my money.”

  “Yeah, Kate? All these years it’s been collecting and you’ve been pushing me to spend it, swearing that it’s the proof of what a generous, loving mother you are.”

  Kate sighed laboriously. “It is your money, but I’m the one who put it there for you. I know why you’re on The Lure, and it’s to hurt me.”

  “You and I were scheduled to meet up at headquarters. You pissed on that, so I needed to come up with a new plan. This ship’s not being managed well.”

  “That’s your assessment, but—”

  “A group of private school folks are on this ship instead of The Lore. Can’t blame it on the o and the u. Management, Guest Services, they screwed up and pinned it all on one of the guests.”

  “Excuse me?” Kate squeaked. “Private schoolers.”

  “Whoa, hold up, Kate. Former private schoolers. It was supposed to be a reunion trip. The ship’s been doling out big-money conveniences to butter them up, especially the one who’s holding the bag. All of this is happening and you have no clue.”

  “This ship is my baby, Riker.”

  “And you abandoned it, not the least bit aware of how it’s getting by. Wouldn’t be the first time you did that.”

  “I did not abandon you. Emory raised you properly and he kept me informed. You want to punish me for... Okay, I realize I’ve made so many mistakes with you, but it’s easy to make a mistake when you just can’t see the right way to go.” Kate paused. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I ever said that, but I’ve always thought it. I’m sorry, Riker, and I want us to talk.”

  It was Riker’s turn to pause. “I don’t know.”

  “Please...don’t take my mistakes out on The Lure. That ship has brought together people who’ve fallen in love and stayed in love. Those people have the kind of happiness that I didn’t have—the kind you didn’t even have with Marisol.”

  Riker rubbed his eyes. He was weary. “Kate, I don’t know what I’m going to do about this ship.” But he knew with the entirety of his heart that she was right about The Lure’s track record in hooking people up.

  Fallen in love... Yeah, he was definitely there. He’d been in love before. He’d loved Marisol, but now he loved Ona, and he loved her in a way that made him want to give more of himself.

  Stayed in love... About that. His chances of keeping up what he’d found with Ona were slim if he couldn’t show her what he’d failed to show Marisol.

  Honesty.

  * * *

  Ona reported to The Lure’s top-tier ballroom early. Armed with her tablet and smartphone and outfitted in stilettos and a gown with a gemstone bodice and fluttery aquamarine skirt—a splurge she’d needed to increase her credit card’s limit to accommodate—she graciously allowed a crew to open the gigantic doors.

  Perfection welcomed her. To think that she’d been a bundle of nerves while getting dressed earlier. Guest Services had contacted her hours ago to report an upgrade in the venue for her party’s private ball. The four-piece orchestra and decorations had been relocated and the food would be catered to the new location.

  Ona had personally contacted each stateroom and spa suite of those in her group, doing her best to explain the change when even she didn’t know why the ship had extended such a courtesy
. Then she’d finished her hair and makeup and texted Riker that for him she was saving a slow dance...and any dance that might make grinding appropriate.

  The ballroom, simply called Romance, was a place of silvery wall coverings and finely polished teak and accents of crystal and diamonds. Lights were strung across the high ceiling and wrapped around columns and artificial plants. The fragrance teasing the air was something Ona couldn’t describe, but it made her think of magic. She had only a minute to stand still and let the perfection of it all hit her before she was drawn into last-minute details.

  A live orchestra, dancing and a catered dinner to close this cruise with a classy, memorable treat. It was crafted in a style that PAAC would approve of, tame and elegant. But Ona had been the after-party girl once—and she still was, because she could hardly wait to have a private after-party with Riker Ewan. They’d spend tonight in his cabin, where her classmates couldn’t so easily disturb her, and in the morning she would step onto the Miami pier with him.

  “Spectacular,” a woman proclaimed, and Ona stepped away from the orchestra assembled in a white-gold corner of the ballroom.

  “Quinn,” Ona said, greeting the guest services manager with a handshake. “Thanks—but I didn’t do all of this.”

  “You did. I saw the design images you emailed with your request to reserve the other ballroom. It was a stunning vision. I’m glad our staff was able to help you realize it.”

  “Thank you for this ballroom. This on top of the other favors, it’s almost too much, really.”

  “The Lure can’t take credit for the upgrade. Didn’t Guest Services clarify? Someone at Stewart-Russ sent down the request.” Concern touched Quinn’s eyes. “Ms. Tracy, have you had an enjoyable cruise?”

  “Yes,” Ona confessed. “I met someone. I wouldn’t have met him on The Lore.”

  “Ah. I’d wondered if you’d submitted a complaint to Stewart-Russ. The way you’ve handled this situation is admirable, to say the least.”