Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1)

He cut me off with a frustrated noise. “Arthur.”

“See what I mean? I ramble. Guess it’s not that surprising that I’ve scared off more than one potential hookup.” I grinned at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Can we get back to the kissing? In bed maybe. I think we’re both better at that than talking. We could just do things I’ve done before if you really hate the idea of being my first.”

“I don’t hate...” Raking a hand through his hair again, Derrick scrunched up his face. “Jesus, Calder would waterboard me if he knew I was even considering being your practice sex.”

“Calder never has to know.” Fucking brothers. Ruining my love life even when they weren’t in the room. “And fuck that noise even if he did find out. I’m twenty-five as you just pointed out. I’m not some innocent who needs protecting.”

“No, but you are a good guy who deserves a good first time. Not everyone gets that. Mine wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t particularly memorable either.”

“So make mine memorable.” Leaving my chair, I went to stand in front of him by the bed.

“Arthur.” Derrick gave me a hard stare.

“Okay, okay, I’m not going to keep begging. I’d rather you were enthusiastically on board than having to talk you into this. All I’m saying is that it could be good.”

“It could.” He groaned again. “And for the record, I’m not saying never. Because you are tempting as hell. But I need to think before we go further. I don’t want regrets—from either of us.”

“Damn. Way to make sure I can’t argue with that. All mature and reasonable.”

“Not feeling particularly reasonable right now.” Falling backward onto the bed, Derrick gave the pillow a hard punch.

“So what? We’re supposed to simply go to sleep now?” With nothing better to do, I went around to the other side of the bed.

“No. Yes. Fuck if I know.” Voice muffled by the pillow, he rolled away from me.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Careful to not touch him, I stretched out next to him. We were both fully clothed. This promised to be a long, uncomfortable night.

“Good night, Arthur.” Derrick reached up to flick off the light, leaving us with only the faint glow of the gas fireplace. It was almost romantic, if one could ignore the acres of tension between us.

The only way I knew how to make that tension recede was with a joke. So I pretended I wasn’t wide awake and being strangled by my jeans and laughed lightly. “Bet we’d both sleep better with a goodnight kiss...”

That got a growl from Derrick. “If I kiss you, we’re not stopping till morning.”

“That’s hardly a deterrent.” I talked to the ceiling and resisted any urge to reach for him. I’d said I wasn’t going to beg, and I needed to stick to that.

“Go to sleep,” he demanded in a pained whisper. “Please.”

“Trying,” I lied, knowing full well that it would be hours before I slept and that I’d spend the whole damn night hoping that his thinking led him to the same conclusion as me. Time was wasting and there was a lot of fun we could be having if he’d simply stop being so stubbornly noble and kiss me again.

Chapter Thirteen

Derrick

I was used to confined places. In fact, I was probably the most prepared person on the planet for sharing a small space with another human.

And the absolute worst choice to try to do it with Arthur. Arthur, who smelled amazing, who kissed like I was the key to the last life raft on a sinking ship, and who was a virgin. And my best friend’s virgin little brother to boot. Who wanted to practice boyfriend skills and sex with me.

Lord help me, I was not going to survive this night, let alone this week.

Eventually, lying there in the dark like the idiot I was who had flounced off to bed fully clothed grew intolerable. Arthur was motionless and quiet but quite possibly still awake when I crept from the bed. Operating in the dark, I shucked my pants, retrieved a pair of pajama bottoms from my bag, brushed my teeth, used the facilities, and dallied in the bathroom until I ran out of reasons to avoid the bed.

As I reentered the main room of the cabin, I exhaled softly at how appealing the Arthur-shaped lump under the covers was. Leaving the bed had done absolutely nothing to help my willpower. Fine. Maybe the universe was going to have to win this round because I wasn’t strong enough on my own.

“Arthur?” I whispered, already mentally laying out the terms of my surrender.

“Zzzz,” a soft snore replied.

Oh. I refused to acknowledge the way my shoulders slumped or the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth. Pull it together. The crisis had been averted. I slid into bed, hugged the edge, and willed my body toward sleep, like I’d learned to do when I was on duty with precisely four hours of shut-eye available. Eventually, it must have worked, because I slept and slept deeply at that, a deep, dreamless coma.