His Plus One by Kate Aster
Chapter 10
- GRAYDON -
Mission accomplished.
Hailey’s okayed the idea of a lunch date when we return. That was my objective.
Objective met.
So why am I still holding her hand?
I need to get back to where we were before dinner—two friends doing each other a favor and enjoying a nice cruise while we’re at it.
Sure, I’d like to end this evening with the kind of kiss we shared last night.
Hell, I’d like to end the evening with a lot more than that, actually.
But it seems skeevy to drag her to an island in the middle of an ocean, surround her with my family, stick her in a suite with me, and then say, “Hey, want to be more than just friends? Like, right now?”
Skeevyhas never been my style.
So I should drop her hand right now as we head back to the ship—back to that suite where nothing but a door separates us as we sleep—a door that seems a lot thinner than it did when we first stepped onto that ship.
But I can’t. Her hand is like a magnet. And mine is made of solid iron.
“Looks like there’s a beach over there,” she says, her chin jutting in the direction of the water.
“Yeah. I heard about that one. No pink sand there, though.”
“Suits me fine. It’s too dark to tell the difference now anyway. Want to go sit for a while?”
“Sure,” I say, actually glad to have a little more time to school my body’s reaction to her before we go into the well-lit and decidedly close quarters of our suite.
“Looking forward to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow?”
I breathe a quiet sigh, grateful for the small talk she offers me. She’s easy to be around. I’ve always known that. With a brain like hers, she could have easily become an IQ snob like my oldest brother is, always looking down his nose at people like me who had a B average in school and were damn proud of it.
But not Hailey.
“Nice like an appendectomy.”
She laughs at my reply. She always laughs at my jokes, even when they aren’t very good.
“But my mom is aching for it to be over,” I add. “She’s been stressing over it since Mason slipped that ring on Freya’s finger. Wants it to be perfect for them.”
“Your mom is wonderful.”
“She is,” I agree. “And after all the weird texts I’ve been getting from Freya’s mom, I’m starting to appreciate mine a lot more.”
“Freya’s mom is a love,” Hailey defends.
I can’t help noting how quickly she leaps to defend anyone she cares about. I love that about her. “She’s great—really,” I agree quickly. “But her texting skills are scary. And why is it that every time she sends us an emoji it’s a man with a cowboy hat and a nose ring?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a personalized emoji before.”
“Of course I have. But it doesn’t look like her.”
“She just set it up wrong. Easy mistake. But a pain to undo if you don’t know how.”
I chuckle. “I didn’t even know you could make an emoji with a nose ring.”
“The wonders of computer programming are boundless, aren’t they?”
I glance at her, not sure if she’s being sarcastic or dead serious. Because computers mean a lot more to her than to me. So I take the safe route and simply say, “Yep.”
“I’m actually having coffee with her tomorrow morning. Going to show her a few tricks and get it set up better for her. I’ll put nose ring removal at the top of my to-do list.”
“That’s nice of you.”
She shrugs. “Well, if I can’t help her, I don’t think anyone can.” She takes off her sandals after she sits in the sand.
Over my shoulder, I hear steel drum music and see the few people sharing this beach get up and head toward its source. A thought occurs to me. “I think I read they have a parade on the Dockyard around this time. Want to see if it started?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m good here if you are. I love the feel of sand between my toes too much to leave that quickly.”
I look down at her feet just as her toes peek out from the sand. They’re perfectly painted thanks to those hours in the spa which she later called torture.
I find myself reaching for her hand again, this time looking at her nails. “I never thought I’d say this, but you wear a mani-pedi well, Hailey.”
“Ha!” She puffs out. “And those are words I never thought I’d hear. But I kind of like it, now that I’ve done one. I spend so much time at a computer looking at my fingers on a keyboard. Might as well pretty them up a bit.”
“For the record, your hands look spectacular even when they’re not manicured. I mean, there’s nothing sexier than ten fingertips that can locate a terrorist cell with a few taps on a computer.”
She nibbles adorably on the side of her lower lip for a moment as she looks at me. “My fingers thank you for the compliment. It’s definitely not one I’ve heard before.”
“Easy one to give. Didn’t Stephen appreciate all you do for our country?”
She giggles. “I think Stephen would have appreciated it a lot more if I left my government job and took one in the private sector where I could have made three times as much. Not that he needs my money anymore,” she adds with a slight scowl.
“You’re a patriot,” I say—a word I don’t use to describe many people. But she is. Our civilian teams don’t even get the same medals for what they do. They don’t get a uniform that makes people slap them on the shoulder and say, “thank you for your service” either. Yet what they do is mission critical. “Why don’t you?”
“Why don’t I what? Work in private industry?”
“Yeah. Much as I hate to agree with Stephen about anything, he’s right that you could make a lot more elsewhere.”
Brow furrowing, she looks at me like I’ve got snakes coming out of my ears. “Same reason you don’t cash in on that pretty face and bod and get a contract selling shaving cream. The mission.”
I burst out laughing. “Now I’m thanking you for the compliment.”
“Easy one to give,” she echoes my earlier words.
A silence falls upon us then as we both look out to the ocean. The moon is rising over the horizon, reflecting in the waves just like images I see in professional photos. It makes me wonder if Max is headed for this beach right now with Colt, so that she can capture the image. Or whether any of my family is, because the view from this beach is even better than from the ship.
I sure as hell hope they aren’t. Because right now, as I drape my arm over her shoulder and Hailey sighs into me, her body perfectly melded to mine, I just want to be close to her for me. For my enjoyment.
Not to satisfy a family who’d be setting me up with half the women on the ship if I came dateless on this cruise.
“Why wait?” she blurts suddenly, as though the words had been festering on the tip of her tongue all night and just needed to escape her mouth.
“Why wait for what?” I ask, confused.
“I’m sorry. That came out of the blue. But…” Her voice trails.
I suddenly find myself pondering what she might mean, and I like the option I’m settling on. “What?”
“Well, um, why wait till we get home to go on a date? I mean, aren’t we on one right now? Amazing dinner. Perfect sunset. Moonlit night. Great company.”
I chuckle. “It would have been a boost to my ego if you listed great company before the others.”
“You’ve got a healthy enough ego as it is.” She gives a playful grin. “Besides, that food was pretty amazing.”
“You’re right about that.” I feel this trickle of hope heating me despite the cool breeze that blows in from the ocean. “So you… don’t want to wait to go on a date?” I feel the need to verify.
“No. I mean, if we wait, we’ll probably just go eat second-rate Italian close to work for lunch. Then we’ll drive back to base and have to sit at our desks for another four or five hours before we can go home. That kind of sounds like a downer when we could call this—” She extends her hands toward the moon’s reflection sparkling in the water. “—a date instead.”
“Good point.”
I’m emboldened by the seductive smile she sends me, and I turn slightly to frame her face with my hands. Her skin is exquisite—supple and unblemished—and it surprises me that I’ve never noticed that before.
And her lips…
I dip my head downward to taste them. They are decadent, even better than last night when our kiss had been more of a command performance. I feel the fullness of them curve upward as I explore her tentatively, not sure how far she wants me to take this tonight.
I force myself to ease my lips away from hers.
I smile. “Yeah, that’s a lot better than a lunch date back home.”
She nods. Then I see her scoot closer, her neck craning to kiss me again. And I’m oh-so-willing to comply. The taste of her—with the faint hint of the wine she drank at dinner—is like an elixir to my soul, curing me of any doubts of whether we should take this further.
I can’t resist. God help me, I can’t.
Fueled by a need I should be able to rein in, I tug her onto my lap, and she straddles me, knees down in the sand. I can feel the heat of her against my cock, even through my slacks, as she moves against me, rocking her body as her tongue tangles with mine. She seeks out the hard ridge of my erection and presses her core against me, grinding instinctively.
She pulls back her face from mine for an instant, almost seeming embarrassed, as though she just realized what she was doing—chasing her full satisfaction right here, shrouded in darkness, but still in public.
But from the fire in her eyes, I sense she hasn’t felt a need this powerful for a long time.
“Go ahead,” I coax her, glancing around us at the dark beach, and grateful for that steel drum band that lured all the tourists away. “No one can see us.”
I grab her bottom and pull her harder against my cock, then ease up my grip, then pull her again, encouraging the action that I know she seems to need desperately. It’s all I can do to hold myself back. But control is something I have in abundance.
At least, usually.
She presses against me again and whimpers as she does. Her gaze seems lost in my own as I feel her grind against me.
“Ohhh…” she whispers.
“That’s it, beautiful.” As I say it, I can’t help thinking how I must have been blind to her beauty before. Right now, feeling her soft body melded with mine, imagining the moisture between her legs and just how much I ache to sink myself into her, it’s almost enough to push me over the edge.
“Feel how hard you’re making me?”
“Yes,” she breathes out, pressing against me again and again until I can feel her core quaking against my cock as she releases her pent-up desire. Her eyes shut and she lowers her head to my shoulder, arching her back, and letting out tiny whimpers that are so much more understated than I hope to coax from her later tonight.
If I’m lucky.
After her breath is steady again, she lifts her head off my shoulder, desire still thick in her eyes.
“Maybe we should get back to the suite?” She asks it like a question.
No, more like a proposition.
It’s one I’m more than willing to accept.
“Sounds like a good idea.” I stand first, extending my hand down to her to help her off the sand. I school my body into submission for a moment, and when all of me is back under control and I’m ready to step into the light again, we walk toward the dock, me with my arm over her, claiming her as mine.
We stop at a small line at the gangplank to show our IDs and board the ship.
“Are all SEALs as good at kissing as you are?” she asks with a blush I’m finally able to see under the bright lights of the ship as we walk toward the elevator. “I mean, it’s not exactly like me to—do that on a public beach. I blame you for that.”
It’s a blame I’m more than happy to take. “Haven’t kissed many SEALs?” I ask, liking way too much that she hasn’t.
“They’re not usually my type,” she says, eyeing me as though she’s willing to make an exception.
“What is your type?” I can’t help asking, wondering exactly what number IQ a guy needs for a woman like her to stick with him for the long haul.
Because guys are all about measuring things.
She turns to look at me as we walk, those eyes seeming to undress me.
But then, just as I touch the button for the elevator, she seems to give herself an internal shake.
“I—I don’t really know, I guess,” she admits thoughtfully as we step into the empty elevator. “I mean, I was with Stephen for almost six years and he was my first. So…”
She says some other things after that, but I swear I can’t hear her words over the screech of the brakes that are echoing in my brain.
He was her first?
“But you’ve…” I nearly stutter my next words, but catch myself. “…dated a lot since he broke it off with you, I imagine?” My voice lilts upwards in question at the end, even though I didn’t intend it.
She shrugs. “A couple coffee dates, and one really bad dinner.”
Oh, shit.
My cock, once struggling to not tent out from my slacks from behind my zipper, just deflated completely as hope for anything more than a kiss tonight dissipates.
Any woman who’s made it to the age of twenty-six with only one sex partner… well, there’s no simple hook-up with a woman like that. At least, there shouldn’t be if the guy has any decency whatsoever.
They’re the type of woman who takes sex damn seriously.
For all intents and purposes, this is our first date. A woman who’s looking to scratch that critical second notch onto her bedpost needs to take her time making sure it’s the right guy.
And while I’m damn tempted to spend the next several hours showing her just how right I can be with her, I can’t silence my conscience that’s screaming at me to not rush her.
Sure, we’re having a hell of a nice cruise together, yet I don’t want her thinking I took advantage of the romantic setting and her… inexperience.
Dammit. That’s the last thing either one of us needs. Because no matter where this heads, there will likely be a time when we run into each other in the field, when lives are on the line.
Which means I’ll be sleeping on the sofa bed again tonight.
A sudden thought strikes me as we exit the elevator. “He was your first and he treated you like that?” Why is it that every time I learn something new about this guy, I hate him even more?
She stops suddenly and cringes. “Oh, God.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe I just told you that. I—didn’t even think—I mean… I guess when I was young, I was just that nerdy, smart girl that no one ever asked out. Then Stephen comes along in college and suddenly six years passes and—”
I touch her arm. “Why are you acting like you’re supposed to be making excuses or apologizing here?”
“Well, I mean, I know other women my age have had a lot more—”
“Who gives a damn what other women have or haven’t done? You blew some time on the wrong guy and didn’t jump into something with someone on the rebound. Good for you.” I force the words out, because even though my brain wants to say them, my cock has other ideas.
Because it might be good for her. But it sure doesn’t feel good for me right now.
“Thanks for not making me feel like an idiot.”
I squeeze her hand. “No matter what, promise me that if any guy makes you feel like an idiot for that, you’ll let me deal with him for you.”
She laughs a little when I say it. But I didn’t even mean it as a joke. My protective side has reared its head.
Her grin is small, uncertain. “Promise.”
I almost suggest we hit the casino, or catch the comedy show, or I’m even willing to enter myself into the Best Legs competition they’ve got going on at the Pool Deck at this late hour. Anything to let the temperature between us drop a bit before we enter the suite.
But we’re here, staring at the door, and I find myself opening it.
“Another towel sculpture,” she says with a grin as we walk by the open door to her bedroom and see what looks like a swan along with two chocolate mints right next to it on her bed.
Her bed… that looks way too welcoming right now.
She knows I want her, and I’m well aware she wants me too. I could… take it slow with her tonight. Gauge her comfort level with every kiss, every touch, every…
No. I’m not so sure I could.
Before feeling her climax against me on that damn beach I might have been able to hold myself back. But right now, I’m discovering I used up the last of my control.
No. I force my head to turn toward the sofa bed, which is turned down just as I requested our porter to do every night of our cruise.
Because I had meant to keep this platonic.
That’s where I’ll be spending the next seven hours. But I make no promises for the rest of the cruise. In fact, I wonder how many legitimate “dates” we can squeeze in before sunset tomorrow?
“Well,” I begin, not really sure how to end a date when we are going to sleep barely fifteen feet away from each other. “Thanks for a wonderful evening.”
She rises to her tiptoes, and I feel her lips against mine again.
Immediately, tiny torches set fire to my veins sending a heat straight to my cock without delay. Her tongue caresses my lower lip slightly before she pulls her face barely an inch from me.
“You know, it doesn’t have to end now,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire. “I mean, that bed in there is kind of big for just one person.”
Oh, God.Every fiber in my body is screaming to take her into my arms right now and carry her into that tiny room. But…
…that’s a huge step for her.
Even if it was one really perfect date.
Perfect, except for the way it’s ending.
I could change that right now, I ponder when her lips take mine again. But as I devour her, I’m suddenly feeling like I’m taking advantage of the way a bottle of wine and a perfect sunset can appeal to a woman… even a woman who doesn’t invite men to her bedroom after date number one.
I don’t take advantage of women.
I force myself to ease my face from hers.
Our lips are still too close. One more kiss—if I allowed myself that—and that taste of her might drown out any little voice in my head that I’d call a conscience.
So instead, I find myself pressing my lips against her forehead, more longing in my heart than can possibly be healthy.
“You deserve better than a hook-up after just one date, Hailey.” I stroke my fingertip against her cheek, just needing to touch her there, to feel that softness I had never noticed until today.
Surprise eclipses the heat in her eyes for a moment. But then she sighs and gives a slight but resolute nod.
And she disappears behind her bedroom door as I head into the bathroom for a very cold shower.