Her kiss is as gentle as a summer rain, warm and familiar. I open my mouth and let her in further, while I gently ease my fingers through her hair. When I give her hair a quick, hard tug, her mouth parts in a silent gasp and I deepen the kiss. I hold her hostage in my grip, her body pressed to my cock, her lips welded to mine, no slack in my grip in her hair.
I let her go. Her gaze on mine is a little startled. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth as if she’s just had a snack.
“That probably isn’t the safest way to ride a ferry,” she whispers.
“It’s fine. Ferries move at the pace of a turtle.” I’d have known if it was time to sit apart and buckle up.
Another tentative nod, before she asks, “How’d I do?”
“How do you think you did?” I can’t help but release my grip on her hair and run my fingers through the lustrous length. Again, I run my fingers through her hair from the scalp to the bottom, until her eyes nearly close and she lets out a little moan. Mmm. I like that, too.
Her lips tip upward. Goddamn, it’d be easier to master this woman if she wasn’t so damn cute. “Actually, I think I did an excellent job.” She opens her eyes.
“What makes you think that?”
“I’ve successfully turned my frog back into a prince.”
“Prince? If you think I’m a prince, I’ve been too lenient on you.”
A casual shrug of her shoulder. “To another woman? Maybe. To me, you’ll do.”
“Brash, for a girl on the cusp of getting her ass spanked.” I can already feel her squirming over my knee, can already feel the sting in my palm while I punish her, her ass warming to the touch every time my heavy palm falls.
“Now I’m on the cusp,” she says thoughtfully. “Oh, dear. I’m quaking in my boots.”
Is that a challenge?
“You’re lucky we’re almost at the hotel.”
“Oooh, a hotel. I haven’t stayed at a hotel in years.” I help her slide off my lap. I miss the warmth and weight of her there and stifle a sigh as she sits beside me. “I’ve alwayslovedhotels.”
Of course she has. Is there anything she doesn’t love? I’m struck with the irony. I have vowed to never love a woman—not a mistress or a lover or my wife—and yet I’ve managed to end up with a woman who loves everything there is to love.
“Good to know.”
“Do you travel often?” she asks, that adorable pucker between her brows telling me she’s curious.
I stifle a sigh. “More often than I’d like.” I don’t give her any more details. Not now.
“Will I travel with you?”
“Absolutely.” I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s one of her most important jobs. Other guys like me have trophy wives they leave at home, little showpieces to bear their children or wear their rings.
I don’t want her in name only.
The ferry pulls into dock at our private spot. Late afternoon’s still bright and sunny in Florida, concealing none of the island wrapped in white sand that stretches out before us. “Oh. My.God.”
“What is it?”
“This… you said private island. This is something out of a fairy tale.” I look around, trying to see what she does—a large, sprawling, luxury hotel underneath the lowered heads of palm trees. Vibrant tropical flowers lining the border, and a well-worn trail to the beach. Beyond the spread of white sand, blue-green water as far as the eye can see.
She gasps and covers her mouth. I try to see what she’s gasping at this time.
“Those aredolphins,” she hisses in a stage whisper, as if she talks any louder they’ll vanish away in smoke. “Actual dolphins!”
“They are. They’re common this time of day in waters this warm.”
I blink in surprise when she smacks my arm. “You’rekiddingme.”