Summer Pirate Page 3

  The doors opening broke them from another heated clinch, and earned them a disapproving look from the uniformed bellboy. Playfully, Lala slapped Chad on his unbelievably cute ass and bolted down the hall. He followed in hot pursuit.

  Lala unlocked her stateroom door, racing in. She could feel Chad behind her, but had no sense of him being ready to leap, which surprised her, considering his promise.

  He looked the room over. “Very nice.”

  Well, it was. Lots of glossy dark wood, gorgeous dark blue carpet, matching chairs and drapes, a balcony, and gorgeous fixtures. But what was he doing admiring the scenery?

  He turned to meet her gaze. “I’m waiting because you don’t expect me to. I can tell you’re used to the slam-bam type.”

  She tensed. “I like the slam-bam type.”

  He chuckled, a warm, soothing sound, and allowed a sensual grin to stroke gently over his chiseled features. “Lie down on the bed.”

  She moved to unfasten her bikini, but he shook his head. “No. Just lie down.”

  She frowned, but moved to the bed and relaxed on her back. She wasn’t sure what confused her more: his actions, or her obeying him. Her suit was going to get the bed damp.

  “Look at me.”

  She raised her lashes to meet his cool gray gaze. He was still smiling. “All of me.”

  She tickled her attention down his neck, roped with strength, and the sleek, muscled torso, still beaded with chlorine-scented moisture. She could almost taste it moistening her suddenly dry lips.

  Her admiration continued downward as he hooked his thumbs into his trunks and tugged them down, kicking them to one side. His cock was smooth, and fully erect. Not huge, but certainly plentiful. Her suit bottom got a bit damper.

  He moved, so swiftly she was caught off guard, and was over her, a knee placed to either side of her hips. His head dropped, catching her lips, his spine curving so that was the only parts of their bodies that touched, excluding the firm flesh locking her shifting hips in place. The feeling was new; she was used to being in control of the situation. But she had no tension, no helplessness. Rather, it was a comfortable sensation, having the pressure of taking initiative lifted from her. She could relax and be drawn in without thinking through it to what he wanted.

  She could get used to this.

  His tongue entered gently, requesting instead of demanding. She responded, locking her arms around his neck, and returning his taste of salt and sweet with her own. So smooth…

  He tensed, then lowered his body to hers. She writhed under him, the weight and heat of silky flesh, mouths moving hotly in tandem, the tip of his hot hardness seeking her entrance, stroking against the cool wetness of her suit bottom. She struggled to prolong the contact with her aching clit, to gain those few strokes needed to send her over the edge. The damp suit warmed to the burning point.

  He pulled his lips from hers with a violent outrush of air and stepped back, his pectoral muscles sheened with sweat. He looked closely at her as if memorizing her every inch, and his lips moved in a silent request. She moved to answer, but he gently pushed her back down, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. She couldn’t take her eyes off those lips; full, sensual. She could still taste their heat. He finally moved back to her, cupping her jaw line and bringing that talented mouth to her uptilted throat. He drifted down the delicate column, thrust upward to meet him, then to the twin arches of her collarbone. His body arced slightly as he moved, the soft brush of his lips and tracing of his tongue setting off every nerve.

  He moved lower, catching the edge of her bikini top in his teeth, and moving it aside to catch an already peaked nipple, tightening the suction until she was writhing again, begging with her soft moaning for release from the sharp spikes of sensation.

  He nipped it lightly, then moved to the other, treating it in a similar fashion. He continued down her belly, again using his teeth to tug down her suit, in this case, the bottom. She raised her hips to aid the removal. He nuzzled the patch of reddish pubic hair, blowing softly on the moist slit. She jerked at the wisp of coolness, crying out. So close, so close…she was mindless with need. Could only feel, pray for release.

  “Shhh…” he murmured, and traced the slit with the tip of his tongue, moving downward until he found the gentle curve of her clit. He flicked it lightly, then paused, probing her pussy, circling the tip of his tongue just inside the opening. She grabbed the back of his head, trying to pull him closer, to make him give her what her body needed.

  Again he paused, inserting a finger deeply inside her and curling it inward. She started as he began to rub in a circular motion. It was like he was stimulating her clit from inside her. Sure, she knew it existed, but how could he…Ohh…God…I need, I need him, Ohhh…

  She tried to speak, to beg, but was beyond communication; she could barely draw air.

  He moved back suddenly, and found her clit again, attacking it with rapid-fire flicks and circles until she shrieked out her release in a banshee wail, the rolling waves of feeling starting at that tiny tip of flesh and shivering through her body, ending in a violent rush in her mind, wiping all thought for one brief second. She relaxed, still shivering, and moved to close her legs, but he nudged her gently, grasping her hips to hold her in place, and continued, his flicking more gentle, until her shudders ended. Then he became more insistent, once again alternating his focus between her clit and pussy until she was off again, twisting, her abdominal muscles flexing as she let loose in a climax that was almost painful. Only then did he release her, and moved to lie beside her on the bed, holding her against him protectively as tears slid silently down her cheeks.

  Lala curled into Chad’s body. She felt clean, relaxed, fresh. Her pelvic muscles were warm, soothed, like years of tension had released. But she still needed to be filled. She felt him pull away for a second, then return.

  She wriggled her bottom against the smooth shaft of heat behind her, and he sucked in a mouthful of air. Yes, he was ready, and from the feel of it, had put on a condom. Arching a bit, she positioned her slit over the tip of his cock, maneuvering until it slid slowly in. He inhaled again, a gentle hiss that stirred the hair at her temple as he tightened his arms around her, and they began to move, gently at first, then with a stronger intensity, her legs wrapping around his and their thigh muscles flexing against each other. His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs moving over her nipples and inciting a renewed heat.

  His teeth found the back of her neck, nipping delicately. She could feel a third orgasm building in her lower body, her thighs tingling. Then she was flowing into it, a gentler, smooth climax that relieved and warmed. As she floated in the afters, his groan against the fine hairs of her neck signaled his own need. His hands dropped to her belly, tightening around her, his palms spreading over the smooth planes of her abdomen, and he froze, his body flexing and tightening, then slowly releasing.

  They lay entwined for some time, the sweat and chlorinated water drying on their bodies. The inevitable movement had to come, and they separated. Lala sat up, moving her legs to the side of the bed. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  Chad sat up and came around to her side, sitting next to her and pulling her close. “I don’t do flings. I’m not the type. If that’s all you want out of this, I’m ok with that. But if you want more, I’m good with that, too.”

  Lala met his eyes, relieved. “I hope you mean that. This is the first time that I haven’t wanted to be alone as soon as I came.”

  Chad tightened his arms around her. “Of course I mean it. But I do have to go. I’m on night shift. I won’t be off-duty ‘til eight or so tomorrow. But I can give you my cell number, and you can check in whenever you want.”

  Lala hugged him back. “Sounds great. But what about after the cruise?”

  Chad laughed. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

  After a quick shower and a slow kiss, he was off to work. Lala lingered in the bed a moment longer, lost in thought.

>   Maybe it’s ok for me to be the good girl for a change. Even if that was all I get from him, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel dirty, tired, misused, or unsatisfied.

  And who knows…maybe I can get really lucky, and he’ll be telling the truth.

  She hugged herself, enjoying the replay in her mind.

  She finally rose, going to shower. A little sore, but she reveled in the sensuality of the cleansing ritual, enjoying the warmth on her taxed muscles and the scent of her lilac soap. Real therapy. Good therapy, unlike the kind you pay way too much for. She had been to her share of shrinks throughout her life—her family and friends had bugged her to go. Something about promiscuity stemming from abuse she may be repressing. Some bullshit like that.

  She didn’t screw around because her father had messed with her, or an uncle, or because her Mom slapped her around. None of that happened…if anything, she’d been spoiled rotten.

  Her reason was simple: Fool me once, shame on you.

  Fool me twice… Shame on me.

  Her sensuality had blossomed along with her chest—way too early for her own good. She was a good girl, though. She knew the rules. Petting, sure, but keep the pants on.

  She had graduated and gone on to college. Her junior year, she had fallen in love. Christian. He wooed her with a romantic Valentine card, with a note saying he was dying to get to know her.

  He was so handsome…shoulder-length brown hair, dark eyes. He was on the champion swim team. A dream.

  On their third date, they got into a heavy session, and he convinced her to take her panties off, telling her he loved her, that it was ok, they were in love. She believed him.

  She lost her virginity that night, and it was fantastic, the feeling of completeness. All was right in her world. She had met her soul mate, and she was a woman.

  Until she saw him getting a blowjob from another girl. When she confronted him, he tried cajoling her, then gave up, telling her if she couldn’t trust him, it was over. She cried, but he was insistent.

  A week later, she was in the library, studying. A kind voice behind her asked if she was okay.

  She turned and saw a young man—not a babe like Christian, but cute enough. Jerard was a bookish type, and was ever so sympathetic. They talked for hours, and he made her feel safe. Over a few weeks, she began to trust him—and care for him.

  They made love a week later, and it was just as glorious. So beyond the mere physical. Again, she was in love.

  Until the letter.

  You are a target. Meet me in the quad in an hour.

  She shut off the water and got out. Drying herself, she recalled that moment, when Lala was born.

  She had gone to the quad, all right. And had been surprised to see a group of girls.

  “Letitia?”

  “Yes…”

  “This is going to be a shock…”

  A contest.

  A fucking contest. Literally.

  One point for a girl you had been with before.

  Five for a new girl.

  For a virgin…one hundred.

  Both Christian and Jerard played.

  To win.

  She pulled herself out of her thoughts impatiently. Maybe it was time to let the baggage go. Could it really be a fact that all guys were assholes?

  Maybe not.

  She needed to talk. And shop.

  * * * *

  Laura was still by the pool, with an expression that was either utter terror or arousal. Knowing Laura, it was most likely fear.

  “What’s your damage, girl?”

  Laura looked at Lala blankly for a moment, then finally found words. “He asked me out. To dinner.”

  “The pirate?”

  A sigh. “Yes. He did.”

  “And you’re sitting here like an idiot, why? Let’s hit the shops! You need a new dress, shoes, get your hair done, a manicure…”

  Laura glared at her. “I said a date, not a damned wedding.”

  Girl was hopeless. “People dress up for dates. Is it somewhere nice, or did you settle for a burger at the snack bar?”

  “Uh, the Four Winds.” Laura looked worried. “Whatever that is.”

  “A very nice restaurant that you are going to dress up for. Let’s go.”

  The shops did not disappoint. In no time, Laura had tried on several dresses, settling on a sleek black silk gown that was half off, both in price and in physical form. She decided to wear her own black pumps, but bought hose, and did splurge in a manicure. She balked at spending seventy-five dollars for an updo, insisting that first of all, she had to go get Fey, and second, she could put her own damned hair up. Lala knew better than to push her any further, so back to the playroom they would go.

  * * * *

  “Mommy!” Feylen took a flying leap into Laura’s belly.

  You’d think the kid was a professional wrestler instead of a tiny sprite of a thing. Ow.

  “Miss me?”

  “Yes, I did. We played in the ball pit, then I drew a picture. But Becky said it was time for a snack, so we had to clean up the paints. So after the snack, we read some books, but Joey didn’t want to read books, so he went to play cars, but Becky told him it was quiet time, so he started to cry, and…”

  “Wonderful. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yep, I did. Can I get some ice cream? Joey said there’s a place here where you can get gummy bears on your ice cream.”

  Laura shuddered. “Sure, what’s a few million bucks in trips to the dentist?”

  Fey frowned. “Mommy, I can brush my teeth, you know.”

  Laura hugged her. To go back to that existence would be wonderful…to have her major concern be the damage quotient of ice cream with gummy bears to one’s teeth.

  “Ice cream works for me. Let’s go, ladies.” Lala pushed Laura lightly. Fey joined in, a little too exuberantly. Laura stumbled, barely catching herself, and turned.

  “Do you two mind? I can walk just fine.”

  Turning back, she immediately made a liar out of herself by tripping over her own feet. Grace strikes again. Both Lala and Fey applauded her enthusiastically. She swept low in a deep bow, flourishing an invisible hat. As she raised her head, she saw Lala’s eyes widen as she looked over Laura’s shoulder.

  “Charmed to meet such lovely ladies again.”

  Oh, no. He isn’t.

  He is.

  Blackbeard himself. Black Goatee, anyway. And the graces weren’t with her…she could tell by the amusement in his eyes he’d seen her whole performance.

  “I would be honored to escort all of you to the frozen treats you desire. Especially you, my fairy child.” He tried to ruffle Fey’s hair as he had before, but she dodged, giggling, and ran behind him.

  “Onward, Milady?” He held out his arm to Laura. She took it. What the hell.

  The walk to the ice-cream parlor was punctuated with more misbehavior, jokes, and wisecracks, and Laura wondered how much the cameras were picking up.

  Once there, they proceeded to create appalling sugary creations that were absolutely wonderful. As they settled at the table, Laura tried to relax, but damn, every time he even entered her airspace, she wanted to drag him into the nearest dark corner, behind one of those hideous ornamental trees, whatever it took, and let nature take its course. Crazy. Ludicrous. Stupid. Senseless.

  Absolutely delicious. Just like the ice cream.

  * * * *

  “Lala, are you sure?”

  Lala paused in carefully applying a layer of mascara to Laura’s lashes. “Of course I’m sure. It was fate that made Chad have to work tonight. It’s about time you got to go out with the grownups… Alone.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?’

  Lala shrugged. “I’m not sure what I feel. But feeling anything at all is a big step for me. So, yeah, I guess I do. What about your pirate?”

  “He’s a schoolteacher, not a pirate.”

  “Right, he only plays one on TV.”

  Laura admi
red the sleek black dress one more time—Thank God for foundation garments—turned from the mirror and tossed a pillow at her. Fey looked up from her Veggie Tales show and laughed.

  “I don’t know either. He seems nice, and you gotta admit, it’s a plus he works with kids.”

  “Why, Miss Laura, do I sense a bit of naughtiness in you?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Like I would. You want him. Big time.” Lala sat on the bed, an evil grin emerging.

  “It’s not the first time I’ve been attracted to someone.” Laura adjusted an earring, studiously not meeting Lala’s eyes.

  “It isn’t? First I’ve heard, Mother Theresa.”

  Laura brandished another pillow threateningly. Fey jumped up, Veggie Tales forgotten, and prepared to receive. Laura tossed, failing to hit her target. “Ok, ok, you’re right. Can I get points for the manicure, at least?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Gee, thanks. You’re the best friend a girl could have.”

  “Damned straight. Now, get out of here. You look gorgeous.”

  “Ok. You can dial direct there if you need me. She should sleep through, she’s wiped out, but just in case…”

  “Got it. No worries. And oh, by the way…”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be staying in your room tonight. Just in case, um, you know.”

  “You have a dirty mind.” Laura reached for a silky white shawl.

  “Not dirty, optimistic. And look who’s talking. I just read it, you write it. Now go work that imagination.”

  Patting her upswept hair nervously, Laura stepped into the restaurant. Looking around, she couldn’t see him. She gave a mental slap to herself when she realized she was looking for a pirate. Nice though that image was, she realized her mistake just as he approached.

  The hair was natural, and lay in loose, fragrant waves to his shoulders. As was the goatee. He had decided against the eye patch, it seemed, and had passed over the tight breeches and full, white shirt for a close-fitting olive silk suit with a collarless shirt. She felt her pulse tap dance, and took a deep breath, hoping something would come out besides air.