Chapter 9 #2
She had a scene to write, but her female character had changed directions.
She was different. Softer, more malleable.
She was supposed to be this kick ass uncaring creature.
Go in, take what she needed and be done with it.
Emotions would not enter into the equation.
She did not have time or inclination for it.
She had been through a hell of a lot. A traumatic childhood. People who had used and abused her. She especially did not like white people. They were to be avoided at all costs. So, the white guy who had shown interest in her was going to feel the full force of her contempt.
She would use and discard him -- or that was the original plan.
Except, it had damned well changed. Now she wanted to experience the feel of his lips on hers -- Snapping out of it, Julesa put away the laptop and pushed her hand against her chest. She was hot, even though there was a cooling breeze coming off the sea.
And her nipples were tight. The male character's name was Gary, dammit. Not Jordan.
"Oh Lord." Dragging her hands over her face, she took several deep breaths and tried to gather her shattered composure.
*****
He came up hours later while she was in bed. Without a word, he went into the shower and came back out shortly after.
"I'm going down to have a meal. There's a party being held in one of the staterooms."
"I'm not up to it."
"I'm going."
"Of course."
"Have you eaten?"
"I'm still full."
They were so polite and civil, she thought dismally and tried to find something to say to break the tension. "It's our last day."
"Yes." Turning away, he went into the other room to get dressed.
When he came back out, he was wearing black dress pants and a silk t-shirt that did wonders to his tan.
The hours spent touring the islands had darkened his skin and made his hair appear even darker.
He looked so achingly handsome that it took considerable effort on her part not to just jump him.
"Well, I'll see you later. You might be asleep when I get back."
"I might be."
He hesitated a minute as if he wanted to say something else, and then he was gone.
Pulling the sheets up over her, she reached for the remote and tried to immerse herself in the black and white movie she settled on.
*****
He was miserable. He had been here for ten minutes, and he wanted to leave.
The blonde who had worked her way over to where he was sitting and nursing his scotch, had given up in her effort to get him to notice her very impressive bosom.
Seeing the wedding band on his finger had not deterred her in the least. But now she was gone, and he was left with his dark thoughts.
Images of her sitting up in bed wearing that scrap of thin green nightgown was etched on his brain. The activities, the rowdiness going on around him did not make much impression. All he wanted to do was to go back into that cabin and rip the nightgown off her.
Then why don't you? The voice taunted him. She's your wife. And this is your honeymoon. March right into the cabin you paid for and demand her attention.
But he couldn't. He had promised to leave her alone. Was the one who had approached her in the first place and promised to stay away from her. He must stick to the bloody plan.
For what reason? The voice continued to haunt him. I don't want to scare her away.
So, you're just going to sit here and torment yourself.
He really believed it was disgust that he was hearing in the voice inside his head.
Was he really disgusted with himself? For the first time in his life, he was faced with a situation he had no idea what to do about.
He had never had a problem with getting a woman before.
In the past, he had been the one to sever ties without looking back.
Now he wanted one with an intensity that frightened him, and his hands were tied.
Picking up the glass, he swallowed and beckoned to the crew member for a refill.
*****
He was invited into the captain's quarters and normally he would have refused the invitation but was delaying going up to the cabin.
He wanted to make sure she was fast asleep by the time he got there.
They were going into port tomorrow and as soon as they made it back, he would leave.
He had business interests out of the country.
He would take two weeks away to deal with them and maybe stay away for another week to give them both some time apart.
By the time he made his way back, it was well after midnight, and he was exhausted to the point of falling into bed. But as soon as he stepped in and saw her curled onto her side, all thoughts of just tumbling into bed fled.
He could not resist, simply walking over to look at her.
She had left the glass doors leading to the deck wide open and fallen asleep with her laptop next to her.
The sheets had rolled down to reveal the thin black nightgown she had on.
There was enough light from the moon for him to see her skin through the lace.
He was almost touching her before he realized it and pulled back with a hiss.
Stepping back, he decided that a smoke would probably calm him down, enough for him to get some damn sleep.
Turning away sharply, he quietly made his way out onto the deck.
Lowering himself on the chaise lounge, he took the case from his pocket and lighted the cigar.
Drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, he considered his plight.
How long could he stay away? He wondered, squinting as the smoke curled towards the sky.
A month? More than that? And what the hell good would that do?
Was it going to make him stop thinking of her, wanting her -- aching for her?
It was like a fever raging inside him and he could not control it.
He had smoked the cigar down to filter without realizing it. Pinching off the flame, he was about to reach for another when he detected movement in his peripheral vision. He went rigid as first her elusive perfume assailed him and then she stepped into his line of vision.
"What are you doing up?" he demanded, damning himself for not turning in sooner.
"I was up." She came and sat between his thighs. "You're angry with me."
"No. I'm--"
"Please don't lie to me."
Her hair was sleep tangled and sexy as hell and he wanted to twist the strands around his hand and bury his lips on hers. Because the feeling was so strong, he realized he had to get up.
"I'm going to bed." He started to lift his foot from around her when she quickly slid into his lap. Shock and the sharp punch of lust had him going still. He stayed where he was, not able to breathe, careful not to move.
"What are you doing?"
"You're upset with me," she repeated softly, hands streaking up his chest and around his shoulders.
"Julesa--"
"And I blame myself. I spent all night trying to talk myself out of what I'm about to do."
Her fingers were leaving imprints of fire everywhere she touched, and he could not think straight. Could not think at all.
"And what is that?"
"I want you."
His bones went lax, and he had to be grateful he was not standing, or he would have simply melted to the floor.
"We said--"
"We would not complicate things. When you touched me on the beach in Jamaica, I wanted you to take me right there.
" Her eyes were bright, fingers busy. He mindlessly lifted his arms so that she could remove his shirt.
When her fingers tangled in the hairs on his chest, he sucked in a painful breath and wondered if she could feel how hard he was, how completely taken he was already.
"And you've changed your mind." He still wasn't touching her, because the moment he did, it would be over. He wanted her more than he wanted the next meal, the next breath.
"Yes." His body jerked when she kissed his throat, her tongue creating havoc on his skin.
"Touch me," she whispered against his throat.
He needed no further prodding. With a feral growl, he clamped his hands around her waist and with one fluid movement, lifted her against him and rose.
"In bed," he rasped as he stepped over the threshold. Using one hand, he slammed the doors shut. Bypassing his bed, he laid her down carefully as if she was something fragile.
"Are you sure?"
"Shut up and join me."
His eyes flared and it took him a few minutes to get rid of his clothes.
Her gasp gave him pause and had him gazing at her, only to see her eyes riveted on his very aroused sex.
"I won't hurt you," he promised hoarsely.
"I won't." Lowering himself next to her, he forced himself to take it slow.
His heart was racing, and his skin was so hot, he feared he was going to combust any minute now.
He had spent the night nursing his acute misery and never expected the day to end like this.
"Let me touch you." He was already doing so, his hands cupping her throat, thumbs caressing the skin.
"Please."
"I have wanted to do this from the very first day I saw you.
At the graveside," he expounded, lowering his head and brushing his lips on her cheek and then her mouth.
"Wanted to feel your flesh against mine so much.
I ache for you." He peppered his potent words with kisses.
Julesa went mindless with need, her hands going around his neck as he kissed the hollow of her throat.
His words were burning inside her brain, sending her spinning.
She had no idea what was going to happen after this, but only this moment counted. Nothing else mattered.