Resonating Souls (Bermuda Nights #1)
By Ophelia Sikes
Chapter 1
Whatever our souls are made of,
His and mine are the same.
-- Emily Bront?
The gleaming white cruise ship shone beneath the brilliant October sky, its length enormous, sleek, bursting with intrigue and promises of delight. Kayla turned at my side, her long, blonde hair swirling with her movement. Her hot-pink lips curved into a smile.
“Here we go, Amanda. What happens in Bermuda stays in Bermuda!”
I couldn’t help but grin in return. With everything that had happened this summer, I needed this. I had nearly collapsed during Boston University’s grueling finals week. Next, despite my stellar grades, I endured four hellish months of all-day interviewing before I finally landed my first real job. On top of it all, Jeff, my boyfriend throughout junior and senior year, had texted me his terse break-up message just as I was taking my seat for my graduation ceremony. He couldn’t even spare an hour to say goodbye in person before he left for his dream job in Minneapolis.
Now that was all behind me.
I drew in a deep breath of the Boston Harbor salt air. This week laid out before me with soft beaches of pink sand, shimmering strawberry daiquiris, and a harem of handsome, tanned waiters at my beck and call.
Paradise.
Kayla and I strolled up the covered gangplank to the ship. Our eyes were drawn first to the long rows of portholes and then to the balconies higher up on the massive structure. The railings glistened as if they had been freshly polished just for us.
Kayla stumbled to a stop, gape-jawed. My gaze automatically followed hers.
There, on the balcony of one of the larger suites, a red-headed woman with thick hair nearly to her waist was leaning forward against the side wall of the patio. Her hands stretched, splayed, before her. A tall, muscular Viking of a man was behind her, sliding her black skirt up around her hips. He moved his hand to his belt. Even from here we could see that the man was proportional. Nicely proportional.
He eased his body slowly, steadily, against the woman’s. We watched as she melted back against him, as pleasure coursed through her at his controlled, teasing entry.
Kayla’s voice was rough. “Good God. I want some of that.”
I found I couldn’t look away. The Viking’s hand slid up beneath the red-head’s crisp, white shirt to caress her ample breast. She arched greedily into him. He rode against her eager body with steadily increasing rhythm. She threw her head back with desire, the harbor noises drowning out any cries she might have been doing her best to muffle.
A wave of envy rolled through me. Had I ever felt that surge of wild abandon with a man? Certainly not with Jeff. He had been cold, efficient, mostly interested in his own pleasure. The times he bothered to think about what I wanted, it had seemed more out of necessity, out of a balancing of his mental spreadsheets than from a real desire to connect with me.
I suddenly wished, with every cell in my body, to experience an encounter like what played out before my eyes. I craved the total release in which the woman was thoroughly immersed.
Kayla was still transfixed, and I found my voice. “Kayla, I doubt the man is on call for room service. Maybe he and that red-head are on their honeymoon,” I watched them in motion, the freeness in every move they made. “Maybe this is their first moment together as man and wife.”
Kayla shook her head, her eyes gleaming with intention. “Passengers won’t be allowed in their rooms for another two hours,” she pointed out, turning her gaze and striding up the gangplank with fresh zeal. “He’s definitely a member of the crew. Once I track him down, he’ll be sharing that muscular body of his with more than just the maids.”
I gave a wry smile, trailing after her. Kayla was a force of nature when she got an idea in her head. Tall, curvaceous, she took it for granted that men would race to please her - and most of the time she was right. I was content to watch from within her shadow. I was dark-haired, slender, and until quite recently, I’d always been with Jeff, held firm beneath his attentive thumb.
Now I was free.
The idea shimmered within me, and I took in a long, deep breath. Maybe this vacation would finally shake me apart from the clinging tendrils of my past. Maybe, for once, I could let loose and see just what life truly had in store for me.
* * *
The sail-away party was all the TV commercials made it out to be. A dreadlocked reggae band was playing full blast amidst strobing lights and massive plastic palm trees. The hot tubs were bursting with polka-dot bikinis and rippled muscles. Everywhere you turned a waiter was offering a rainbow of tropical drinks. Kayla had stopped craning her neck every five minutes in search of her blond warrior and had settled into the groove, her neon-pink bikini placing her curves on prominent display. My black one-piece was slightly more modest, although its gold edging and plunging neckline brought out my toned features. I adored swimming, and my body had been sculpted by the years of my passion for it.
A lanky guy, his face peppered with tan freckles, came over with a smile. “Nice ship, huh? Amazing this’ll be our home for the next week.”
Tension rippled down my shoulders, and I took a step away from him. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” My head swiveled, and I spotted Kayla leaning on one of the hot tubs. I gave the guy a nod before walking over to join her.
Her eyes danced as I reached her. “That guy was totally into you,” she teased. “He’s been watching you for ten minutes now. And the moment he builds up the courage to go over, you flee!”