Her fingers grasped the cotton of my shirt, her entire body tightening and then loosening as she floated down from her climax. Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand as her legs gave way and I pulled her limp body onto my lap.
My satisfaction was all about her tonight, which was unusual. I usually liked to start a sexual encounter with a blow job. It wasn’t that I didn’t like turning women on—more that there was something about Skylar that meant I wanted to try a bit harder. She deserved me to work at it. For her.
I gazed at her, enjoying her softness, her warmth, as she pressed her body against mine. Her orgasm-induced haze lifted, and she stiffened as if she’d given away state secrets and had just realized what she’d done, but I held her tight, determined that the mask she wore stayed off.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, cupping her neck. I hadn’t even kissed her yet, but I knew it would be one of the most memorable of my life.
As if she didn’t know whether to encourage or discourage me, she circled her fingers around my wrist.
My heart drummed in my chest as if in warning, of what?
My gaze dipped down to her full lips then back up to those ice-blue eyes and I pressed my lips against hers. She tasted of silk and candy floss—sweet and sexy. I groaned and pressed my tongue against hers. Her fingers dropped from my arm and her body relaxed again. She was trying to hold back but it was futile when she was with me. Guys she dated probably didn’t give a shit about her pleasure, didn’t understand that the biggest turn-on was to make a woman so weak with desire that she’d do anything for you.
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.”