The Wrong Gentleman(10)

Her fingers found my shirt buttons and began to pull at them. “Jesus, you’re hot,” she said, gasping as she pulled back.

I grinned. “Back at you.”

“And this is a good shirt,” she said, frowning as she felt the cotton between her fingers.

I wasn’t about to admit that the shirt had cost me a couple hundred pounds. She didn’t need to know that I had far more money in my bank account than the average junior deckhand, or even the average captain. Just because I could afford to be a guest didn’t mean I’d want to be. I liked to be active. To be purposeful. It didn’t matter how much money I had, I’d still never be the kind of man Skylar was looking for. And I wasn’t looking for anyone.

I stripped off my shirt, wanting it out of the way, and Skylar stood and unclasped her bra.

I swallowed. I’d never seen more perfect breasts—high and round with nipples jutting out for attention. Fuck, I’d known at the bar she was my type. I couldn’t have been more right.

She reached for my shoulder, placing her index finger against the scar of an old bullet wound. Her eyebrows pulled together, and she stepped toward me and placed a kiss over the mark.

I froze.

I’d never had a woman notice it before. Nobody had touched me there since the doctor who treated me.

It was so unexpected. So unfamiliar. So uncomfortably intimate.

She glanced down at me but didn’t say anything. There were no awkward questions for me to deflect. No pity in her eyes for me to discourage.

She had no desire to expose my vulnerability, and I couldn’t help wondering if that was because she had her own secrets, her own scars.

Fuck, I barely knew this woman and already I wanted to understand her better—know her. Body and mind.

Women never intrigued me in the way Skylar did. I needed to shake it off.

Remember why we were here.

I stood and took off my trousers and boxers, and when I looked up, I found Skylar staring at my cock the same way I’d stared at her breasts. I gripped the base, pulled my fist, and couldn’t help but groan when Skylar, her eyes still pinned on my dick, licked her lips.

Shit.

There was nothing like the feel of that desire from someone else. It didn’t matter that I’d only known her for a few hours, I got the feeling she didn’t look at most men the way she’d just looked at me.

“I like you, too,” I said as my dick twitched under her inspection.

She nodded and stepped forward. “You have a really nice penis.”

I chuckled and she looked up at me, a small smile on her face. “You have a really nice everything,” I replied, scooping her up and placing her on the bed. “And I want to see everything from every angle.”

She rolled to her front, and I trailed my fingers up the back of her thigh and over her full arse cheeks, then I gave her a short, sharp slap. “All fours, please.”

“So polite with your ‘please’,” she said, doing as I asked.

“I’m British. We’re polite. But don’t let that fool you.” I reached between her legs, plunging my fingers into her, coating my hand and then smoothing her wetness over my cock. “It doesn’t mean I’m well behaved.”

I took a step to the other end of the bed so my crotch was opposite her face. “Taste yourself on me,” I said.

She moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No. From exactly where you are. Don’t move.”

She placed her hands back on the mattress and shifted slightly.

My insides tightened as she opened her mouth and tried to capture the tip of me.

“Just a taste,” I warned.

As much as I liked to think otherwise, I knew I couldn’t handle this woman’s mouth around me for too long. Not when she encouraged so many thoughts and questions in me.

Slowly, she took me in her mouth, my crown hitting the back of her throat. I let out a deep exhale and stepped back, needing that perfect bliss to be over. I spotted my wallet and pulled out a condom. It was time for the main act to start. The urge to fuck was heavy in my veins.

I rolled on the latex, watching her, watching me.

“I hope it feels as good as it looks,” she said.

I chuckled. There was the funny, demanding woman from back in the bar. “It will, don’t you worry about that.” I’d never had any complaints, and Skylar wasn’t going to be the first.

I gripped my cock at its base and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” I asked, pushing the hard tip up to her clit and then pausing at her entrance.

“Landon,” she moaned as I thrust into her.

She was tight and needy and the way she arched her back, curled her toes, combined with the look of shock on her face made me believe I wasn’t typical for her in any way. In so many ways she was exactly my type—blonde, beautiful, and up for some fun—but below the surface, like white noise, there was something telling me this girl was not like the others.

“Relax,” I whispered, smoothing my palm up her back, then gripping her shoulder as I pistoned my hips. The relief at being inside her relaxed my muscles and I did what came naturally to me—I fucked her like it was my job, through her second orgasm, not breaking rhythm as her climax clenched my dick like a vice. This was what I knew. Skylar might have knocked me a little off balance, but fucking was my comfort zone. Sweat gathered at my hairline, down my back, at the tips of my fingers, but I couldn’t stop.