Shipped(69)

“Cabin?” My words come out in a raspy pant.

Swallowing thickly, he nods.

We fly down the stairs, and I can’t repress the giggle of pure joy that bubbles up in my throat. He doesn’t ask the question—your cabin or mine?—because the answer is obvious.

Mine is closer.

We barely make it through the door before we’re on each other like duct tape. I reach behind me to flip the lock. My back careens off the wall as he presses his body against mine. Moaning, I run my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and up his corded abs. His muscles quiver under my touch.

“We have to keep this quiet,” I murmur against his lips.

I feel him nod.

“I don’t want anyone to know. Not until after the promotion is decided.”

“You got it.” He kisses me again and alternates thrusts of his tongue and hips with a soft, sensual slide. A hint of sweet with the strong. His soft lips are a stark contrast to the firmness of his body and the abrasion of his stubble. Heat swamps me and I roll my hips forward, urging him for more, faster, but he doesn’t relent.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down my neck. Every glide of his lips sends a jolt of lust straight to my core.

I can’t lie anymore. “Me too.” Pressing my face against his chest, I kiss the exposed skin above the top button of his shirt. A sparse smattering of hair tickles my cheek as I nuzzle him.

His chest expands. “Really? Since when?”

Taking a step back until my hips are anchored to the wall, I reach behind me to unzip my dress. Without looking away, I tug it down until it pools on the floor at my feet. All I’m wearing are heels and a pair of white lace panties. His gaze devours me whole. I shiver.

“Since the first time you said my name on the phone. I almost spontaneously combusted.” Taking his hand, I bring it up to cup one of my breasts.

He moans deep in his chest. Curling over me, he drags his thumb across my pebbled nipple.

I gasp.

“Ever think about me naked?” he murmurs.

“Every night since we boarded the ship.”

“Good enough for me.”

He’s on me again, and there’s nothing gentle or tentative about it. We are pure, unbridled need.

My fingers tremble as I work the buttons down his chest. Partway through he becomes impatient and jerks his shirt over his head. Threads pop and something pings against the closet door. He drops his shirt and I nearly trip on it as we stumble over to my bed.

He lands on the mattress first, with me tumbling on top of him. Shooting out a hand to brace against the wall, I straddle his lap.

Skin. So much glorious skin. Diverting from his lips, I suck in a noisy, snuffling breath at the crook of his neck. I’m about as graceful as a truffle-sniffing pig. “God you smell good. I want to eat you up.”

“Right back at you.” His voice is raw, molten promise. Scooping me up, he flips me over so I’m underneath him. The ship rocks us in a gentle embrace, but the heat between us is an inferno. He thumbs the strap of my shoes over my heels and flips them off. One lands with a resounding thunk on the floor. The other clatters onto the desk at the foot of my bed.

I want to feel more of him. Need to. Reaching for his pants, I unbuckle the top button. My knuckles brush his arousal and he rolls his hips with a groan. His lips descend down my rib cage as his fingers edge along the lace trim of my underwear. I shudder when his fingers hook the elastic.

A knock from somewhere over Graeme’s shoulders startles us both to stillness. We look at each other, Graeme peering at me from where he’s hovering over my belly.

Someone knocks on my door again, more insistent this time.

I fling my head back into the pillow. “Are you serious?”

Graeme groans like he’s been punched in the gut.

Scrambling out from under him, I kick my dress under the bed, dive for the robe in the closet, and yank it on. I glance back at Graeme. What if someone sees him? We still need to keep this—us—under wraps.

Holding open the door to the bathroom, I motion toward its crisp, cold interior. “Please?”

With a nod, Graeme lumbers off the bed and in the general direction of the bathroom. “Don’t take too long,” he murmurs as he slides past me.

Before he can turn away, I place both palms on either side of his face and bring my lips to his in a burst of a kiss. My body screams not to stop, but I force myself away.

“Two minutes,” I mouth as I quietly shut the door.

Cursing all the gods in the heavens, I tromp to the main door and open it a crack.

Nikolai Kozlov is standing on the other side.

His smile falters when he catches sight of my expression. I imagine it’s thunderous. My nether-kitty yowls and hisses at this interruption. “Can I help you?” My tone is curt, but I can’t help it.

“Yes.” He nods like a bobblehead. Sweat gathers along his receding hairline. “Since I met you five days ago, I have developed strong feelings for you. You are beautiful and charming and I want to know if maybe you would—”

“Stop. Please, stop.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression. I don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.”

Hurt flicks across Nikolai’s face, but he smooths it away. He braces his forearm against the wall next to my door. “Are you sure? I am like vodka. It is, on first taste, not everyone’s favorite. But after a few sips, you may find you like it.” Waggling his eyebrows, he leans closer.