Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
My brain misfires as I stare at him. “I suppose if you have an itch it needs to be scratched.”
He smiles sexily as he lies onto his back, his blonde, messy curls are splayed over his pillow and he smiles broadly revealing those cheeky dimples. “If I was a nice guy I would tell you I jacked off in the shower before I came to bed to save you having to suck my cock.” His eyes drop to my lips and I feel it all the way down there. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat.
“Would you be lying?” I whisper. Why are we having this conversation? It shouldn’t matter to me whether he did or didn’t.
His dark sexy eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t reply.
“Truce?” I ask, hopeful.
He nods. “I have to get you a new passport made so you can slip out of here unnoticed when we get to port. A chopper is bringing one in for you in a few days. I will get a photo of you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I smile my first hopeful smile in a week. He’s serious about helping me get out of here alive. Maybe he’s not so bad. I feel relieved that we have had this conversation and we stay silent for a while. “Can I ask you something?” I ask. He smirks as if liking where this conversation is going. “You know how we…” I hesitate. I don’t really know how to put this. “Make out to everyone that I am yours?”
He picks my hand up as he watches me. “Like when I touch you,” he whispers darkly.
I nod nervously. Oh man. “I just…” I hesitate again as my heart rate picks up form his electric touch. “I’m not used to this.”
“Obviously.”
“I just want to be clear that you know we are not going to have sex when we get back to the room.”
He stays silent and his eyes narrow as if thinking.
“I want you to be able to stop. Can you promise me that you can stop after we pretend?” I raise my eyebrows in question. I don’t want to rev him up outside only to come back and find him unable to stop. If he knows the limits, maybe this will work after all.
“Can you stop?” he breathes as his eyes drop to my lips again.
I nod nervously. Of course I can.
“I want to leave this ship with my dignity,” I murmur. “I’m not a sleep around kind of girl.”
He smiles sarcastically. “How self preserving of you.” He rises from the bed. “No need to worry yourself, Roshelle. I will get my itch scratched somewhere else.” He walks into the bathroom.
“Good.” That was the answer I wanted, but for some reason my heart drops. “Thank you,” I call after him. I hear the shower turn on and then he drops his clothes in front of the door and I can’t make myself look away. He turns to face me and his dick is hard. That thing is always bloody hard.
“Can you bring me a towel?” he asks.
What’s he playing at now? I swallow nervously and nod. I get a towel from the linen cupboard and walk into the bathroom to put it on the sink.
“Are you on call tonight?” I ask.
He shakes his head as he soaps up. “No.”
I smile shyly. I feel awkward with what I just said and now I’m standing here ogling this muscled sex machine. I do feel better for having said it, though. Now he knows how I feel and I won’t feel like I’m prick teasing him. It’s just an act, that’s all.
“I thought we might have a few drinks,” he says casually.
I smile.
“Watch some television.”
“We shall see how the night turns out?” I murmur.
He smiles sexily as he strokes his body with his soapy hand. “Yeah, I suppose we will.”
Half an hour later, we walk into the common room hand in hand, his strong frame towering over mine. The glances of the crew members tell me they are still not convinced that he has staked his claim. “Let’s get a drink.” He gestures to the bar.
We make our way to the bar and he stands behind me and wraps his large hands around my waist. “Can we have two Scotch and Cokes?” he asks the bartender.
“Sure thing,” the guy replies. He’s a different guy from the other night and I look around to the men to see if I can recognize any of them. Mac’s lips drop to my neck and his hand rises up to cup my breast. I really hate this. I do. I really do, I remind myself. His hands roam up and down my body as if he has been waiting all day to touch me, and my neck stretches out instinctively to give him room to kiss me.