His strong hands hold me close. One tightens around my waist, lifting and pressing me against his body. Hell, I moan as his cock digs into the V between my legs. It should frighten me, but it doesn’t. I’m more turned on than I should be.
A cough behind us interrupts our spontaneous, passionate moment.
“Mr. Hamilton, your table is ready.” Table?
He takes a deep breath like he’s annoyed and says, “Thank you.”
“Ms. Tyler and I will be there in just a moment.” He takes my hand, and with his voice shaking, he asks, “Will you join me for dinner?”
For a moment, I feel like I have the upper hand, so I tease him. “I don’t suppose I have a choice, do I?” Not that I want to say no. In fact, I don’t want to lose him again. It’s nuts how my heart’s speed racing in my chest. I’m doing my best to hold myself together, but I’m so overwhelmed by this new and instant attraction to him.
“You do, but I can’t promise I won’t try to convince you…if needed.”
Why? I think
“Why what?” Oops.
Taking a deep breath, I confess, “Why am I so captivated by you?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be on this trip if it wasn’t for you, so I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He smiles, and I twist my lips, wondering if there’s more to that, but he shakes his head and leads the way back inside. We travel down to the corridor until we reach the end of a hall. He presses his keycard, and it lets us into a different area that is even more opulent than the lavish room I have.
“Is this the way to the dining area?” I’m pretty sure it isn’t, but I’d gotten turned about twice since I arrived.
“No, we have a private dining space.” We reach another dead end, but this time, Graham taps his card again, and we enter a suite.
As I step inside, I see a small foyer that opens into a seating area with a round table to the left. It’s not an actual dining area. It has the appearance of a lavish hotel suite. “Is this your room?”
“Yes, it is.”
A feeling of being conned hits me. Why does he have such a huge and expensive-looking suite for a guy supposedly not sailing? I pump the brakes until I get some answers. I let go of his hand and lean against the door. “Wow, okay. That doesn’t make any sense. If you weren’t going to attend this cruise, then why do you have the fanciest room in the place?”
He ducks his head, hiding his mouth from me before letting out a muffled answer. “Because I own the ship.”
“What!”
With a sigh, he meets my eyes and comes clean. “I own the Hamilton Cruise Line company. Although I am trying to sell it.”
I might not be the first girl in here. “So this isn’t your first singles’ cruise.” It’s not a question. More like an instant jealous response.
Graham reaches out, cupping my chin, and says, “Actually it is. I’ve never been on the ship before today.”
“Really? Why not?” How do you own a business and not visited the company once?
He lets go and shrugs. “I don’t like boats of any size.” There’s a reason behind that, but I’m not going to press. Maybe a bad past experience?
“Oh. Then why?” His back stiffens, and he sighs heavily. “Sorry. I can tell I’m getting too nosy.”
“Not at all. I don’t mind telling you. It’s all new to me. My father owned the ship until his death four months ago.”
Wow. The weight of his words hit me. He’s in the middle of grieving like I am. A part of me regrets asking the question, but I couldn’t stop myself. I grab his hand and say, “I’m so sorry to hear that. I understand how difficult it must be for you. My aunt, the one who signed me up for this cruise, died two months ago.” Immediately tears well up in my eyes as I think about how wonderful she was to me.
“I’m sorry for your loss, babe.” He pulls me into his arms and hugs me. We stand like that for a long time, fitting so perfectly together as if we’ve always been this way. It feels so natural and welcoming that I regret that we separate to sit. “Come on I have to feed you before you blow away in the breeze.”
“I’m not that small,” I argue as he holds the chair out for me.
After he pushes it in, he leans down and kisses the top of my head. A tingle of pleasure runs from that spot down my back.
“You are small to me.” He undoes his suit jacket and sets it on the back of his chair. I watch him sit, and every single muscle it takes for him to do that. My pussy clenches as I watch his biceps flex while he rolls up his sleeves one at a time. It’s like a hypnotic dance, luring me, tempting me.