Jock Row (Jock Hard #1)(72)

SATURDAY



Rowdy


We made it to the ship with hours to spare, the gangway a long, winding way up to the atrium deck.

I’m close behind Scarlett, eyes glued to her fantastic backside, admiring the view. The pretty top with tiny holes in it and pair of white shorts she’s wearing don’t stop me from ogling as she takes one long stride after other.

Unfortunately, no sooner do we step onto the threshold of the ship than my dad catches me staring at her ass, pulling me aside by the arm. Gets in close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice, gearing up for a lecture.

Patiently, I let him deliver the speech I know is coming.

Blush a little, too.

“Your mom and I are trusting you this weekend. Please use your best judgment.”

I nod. “I understand.”

“Do you? You’re sharing a room with this girl, whom we’ve never met before this weekend. We have to trust that you’re both going to be responsible.”

“Responsible?” I smirk, crossing my arms. “What do you mean?”

Never good at the sex talks, my dad’s face turns as bright as Scarlett’s when she’s blushing.

“Did you bring…”

I cocked my head to the side. “Did I bring what? Sunblock?”

“You know…”

He cannot not bring himself to say the word protection, or condoms, or birth control. Dad is the reserved one in my parents’ relationship, while my mother is an extrovert. The balance has always been a positive one—except when it comes to shit like this.

Lord help him, he sucks at giving me lectures. Always has.

Has no countenance for it, while Mom would probably be whipping out a diagram and drawing me a picture. Or pulling a strip of condoms out of her purse—the ones with her book logo on them.

“Two sets of nice clothes?”

“Sterling, if you’re being coy with me, I don’t appreciate it.”

“Coy, Dad?” That’s such a Mom word.

“Your mother is the one who wanted me to have this talk with you.”

“What talk? Seriously Dad, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

That’s when he takes a good look at my face, at my shit-eating grin.

“You little smartass.”

My grin widens. “Hardly little.”

It’s so easy to embarrass my father. “Sterling, enough.”

“Dad, I get it.” I give him a reassuring clap on the back. “Don’t worry, no one wants clones of me running around.”

Last night’s humpfest was as close to being unscrupulous about protection as I’ve ever gotten, and only because Scarlett and I were both wearing underwear.

But my big dick wanted in, and he wanted in deep.

My mother’s voice cuts in to my perverted reminiscing, retracing her steps to find out where my father and I ran off to.

“Come on you two, let’s go!” She hands me one of the ships pre-paid cell phones so we can communicate this weekend. “Dad and I are going to drop these bags off then head to the bar by the pool if you want to meet us up there later?”

“Cool, maybe.” I take Scarlett’s bag, the one hanging from her shoulder, and sling it over mine, carrying them both, resting my palm on the small of her back. “We’ll scope everything out, do a lap or two around the ship, get the lay of the land.”

“All right. If we don’t bump into you, we’ll see you for dinner at six.”

I bend to kiss my mother on the cheek. “Love you guys. Catch you later.”

She wraps her arms around Scarlett, embracing her in a hug. “Have fun.”

As they go one way, I pull Scarlett another, toward the elevator banks. A door slides open and I gesture for her to enter first.

“All aboard the hot mess express.”

I catch her smile, biting down on her lower lip, hair braided in a crown at the top of her head. She looks…

Fucking adorable.

She steps into the elevator. “Thank you.”

The doors close, trapping us in, alone. “I hope it doesn’t take them forever to get our bags in the room.”

“Does it normally?”

“It can.”

But it doesn’t. As luck would have it, both our suitcases are at the door to our stateroom when we arrive, and I scan the keycard, hauling them aside so Scarlett can enter first. Lug them into the room, the door slamming shut behind me.

“Wow. Sterling, this room is…” She turns to face me, speechless, beaming up at me. “I’m so excited.”

I’m filled with pride having made her smile like that.

Without waiting, she takes the short journey to the balcony doors, sliding them open and stepping into the warm Florida air, arms spread wide on the rails.

It’s early yet—four more hours until the ship leaves—with plenty of time to explore, both the ship and each other.

I join her on the balcony, approaching from behind, my hands circling her middle, chin resting on her shoulder. Breathing in her hair, kissing the back of her neck.

“This is gorgeous and we haven’t even left yet.”

My fingers brush back the stray hairs that have escaped from her braid. “It is.” She is.