Give Me More. P.J. Mellor
her mouth water—and not for food. His uniform was impressive, but knowing what was beneath it had her impatient for the first part of their evening to be completed.
Drew smiled, his teeth a flash of white in his tanned face, his hand touching her elbow to guide her to his table. Along the way, several passengers greeted him. In response, he nodded or mumbled a pleasantry but kept walking.
At their table, he introduced her to three other couples. Boy, he hadn’t been kidding when he said everyone had already hooked up.
She glanced at Drew and said a silent prayer of thanks. Not only was he by far the most handsome man on the cruise, he appeared to be the only one who was unattached. Good thing she had staked her claim early.
Her smile faltered. She had staked her claim, hadn’t she?
Everyone gaped at her, no doubt due to her added color, thanks to her up-close-and-personal experience in the grotto.
She touched the swelling by her eye as she claimed a seat next to a man with a bad comb-over and smiled. “You should see the other guy.” Unfortunately she was the only one who laughed. Tough crowd.
After an awkward silence, Drew cleared his throat. “So, how is everyone enjoying the cruise? Let’s start, while we wait for the appetizers, by saying a little bit about ourselves to break the ice.”
The comb-over directly to her left, Oliver, droned on about the island they were married on.
What? Married?
“Excuse me. Did you say married? You and Sue are married?” While not especially attractive or a sparkling wit, even Oliver would have to be a special kind of stupid to take a singles cruise on his honeymoon.
Sue, who wasn’t all that attractive either, nodded and flashed a sappy smile at Oliver. “Three whole days.”
Maggie managed a weak smile. Gag me. What were they thinking?
Gamely, she turned to the other closest couple, Dave and Debbie. “Can you believe they’re married?” She smiled and rolled her eyes. “So what about you two? What’s the story with you?” She’d noticed Dave at check-in. Tall, athletic looking. Good hair and teeth, which was becoming more and more important in her search for Mr. Right. And a great butt. Also a desirable quality. Maybe she should have made a move. Who knew Deb would snap him up so quickly?
Unfortunately the way he grinned down at the ever-present Debbie said he was going down for the count. Scratch good old Dave off her list of potential victims, er, candidates.
Yeah, it was a good thing she’d found Drew when she did. He was so hot she had no doubt he wouldn’t have been single for more than a day. All the ways she wanted to use him—rather, cement their fledgling relationship—sprang to mind.
“So, where did you two get married?” Oliver asked, looking down the table at the third couple, Beth and Micah.
“Oh, we’ve been married a year already,” Micah answered. “We never had a honeymoon, so—”
“Then why did you choose this cruise?” Maggie knew she interrupted but couldn’t contain her curiosity another second. How weird was it to be at a table with not one but three couples? It was a singles cruise, for Pete’s sake! Had no one else read the brochure?
Six sets of eyes stared at her.
“Um…because it’s a honeymoon cruise?” Oliver ventured a guess.
Maggie snorted her laughter, “Yeah, right!” She looked around the table. No one appeared to be sharing her humor. Her gaze sought Drew. His look did nothing to reassure her as she took a bite of her now tasteless meal.
He leaned close and whispered, “It is a honeymoon cruise, Maggie. That’s why I kept asking if you were married. I—”
The last bite of roast duck lodged in her throat.
Drew was on his feet immediately, thumping her on the back.
Debbie advised her to drink some water.
Sue said that wouldn’t help; instead, she should put Maggie’s hands over her head.
Maggie glared at Sue. If Sue didn’t shut up, Maggie would put her hands around Sue’s throat and squeeze.
Wheezing in air, she finally stopped her coughing fit. Drew, still at her side, continued to rub her back.
“Are you okay?” His warm breath fanned her ear.
Are you insane? Of course I’m not okay! Instead she managed to rasp out, “I need to get out of here.”
He helped her up. “I’m going to take her outside for some air. Please, go ahead with your meal.”
On the deck, she whirled to face him. “A honeymoon cruise? Are you kidding? It has to be a joke.” She glanced around the deserted deck. “Are we on hidden camera or something?”
Drew managed a feeble smile. “’Fraid not.”
“But—but it can’t be a honeymoon cruise!” Memories of all her sacrifices and saving flashed through her mind. “I did my registration myself. I signed up for the singles cruise. The Fun in the Sun package! There has to be some mistake!” However, one look at his solemn face told her there was no mistake. And if there was, it was hers. Her shoulders slumped. “Why does stuff like this keep happening to me?” Did she wear a sign that said LOSER? “Turn the boat around. I want a refund.”
He clamped his lips together as though he were biting back a smile. “It’s a ship.”
“I don’t care! It has a reverse, doesn’t it?”
“Maggie, we’re already at sea. You may as well relax and enjoy the cruise.” He tilted up her face with the tip of his finger and said in a low voice, “You have to admit, it hasn’t been all bad. I mean, we’ve had some fun.” He pulled her into his embrace and smiled down at her. “We could enjoy each other’s company for the next three days and four nights. Besides, I’d appreciate having you around.”
“What’s the big deal? I’m just another passenger.” She made a halfhearted effort to disengage his embrace.
He bent his knees to look into her eyes. “Maggie, believe me, you’re not ‘just another passenger.’ I already told you I’ve never—and I mean never—had any sort of personal contact with a passenger. Until you.”
When she didn’t respond, just blinked her incredible eyes—okay, her incredible eye, because the other was still swollen almost shut—he had to act.
No way were those pretty pink nipple clamps going to continue doing laundry duty tonight.
7
He pulled Maggie tight against him, letting her feel his erection. To ensure his intentions, he ground his hips against her, swallowing his sigh of relief when she ground right back, an impish grin on her oh-so-kissable lips.
The first strains of music drifted out to them.
He leaned to kiss the tip of her nose. “Let’s dance. I want to make every other guy in the room jealous while I hold you so close they’ll be trying to decide if we’re making love on the dance floor.” He waltzed her toward the dining room entrance. “Then I want to take you back to your room and”—he remembered their deal and swallowed before completing his sentence—“and fuck you in ways that are probably illegal in several states.”
A look of surprise flashed across her face. It was difficult to tell in the dimness, but he thought she might be blushing.
Good. He hoped she was embarrassed. He was.
He opened the door for her, the air-conditioned breeze cooling the heated tips of his ears.
They danced silently to several songs before the band switched gears. Heaving a silent prayer of thanks, he pulled her into his arms and tried not to groan at the contact of her firm breasts