Wallflower

Chapter 1

“So, you ever been on a cruise before?” Sam asks.

“No,” I reply, feeling bashful. There’s no reason for my cheeks to heat at the question.

I shouldn’t be embarrassed this is my first time.

Not everyone wants to be stuck in the middle of the ocean, especially after seeing that movie.

We all know the one I’m talking about. Just like we all know Jack could’ve fit on that hunk of wood with Rose.

As far as I’m concerned, she’s complicit in his death.

It’s not romantic, it’s idiotic, and I loathe my parents named me after the iconically selfish woman.

“Knew it,” he drawls, alluring lips kicking up into a smirk.

The bartender returns, passing my new friend his beer, and sliding a small collection of glasses toward me.

I think I may have overestimated my ability to get everyone in my family a drink all by myself.

However, when I saw him leaning against the bar, eyes devouring me from across the crowded room, all rational thought flew right out the porthole.

The tension thrumming between us since we first locked eyes on boarding day boiled over as I jumped to my feet, abandoning any plans I had for dinner.

Sam must sense the self-doubt bubbling within me as I stare at all the beverages before me. “Want help?” he questions, that lingering curve of his lips drawing my gaze once more.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I reply. Shooting my eyes over to the table where the rest of my family reside, I telepathically beg one of them to look my way, see my struggle, and rise from their seat. It doesn’t happen, and I resolve to let the handsome man with sparkling blue eyes assist me.

“It’s no trouble at all. Just because I’m off the clock doesn’t mean I won’t help a cute passenger in distress.”

What a flirt.

My skin flushes for a whole new reason, and he seems to notice as he ensnares my hazel eyes with his lingering look of hunger. “Thank you,” I murmur quietly.

Fuck, it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve had someone’s desire directed at me. My stomach tightens in anticipation as the thought of a hot, quick vacation romance barrels through me. It’s just what I need to get the last failed blind date out of my system.

Dark curls fall over his brow as his gaze drops to my lips, lingering before darting back up to my eyes.

Butterflies shoot south as he steps closer, invading my space.

He towers over me, at least six foot, maybe more, giving my sister a run for her money where height is concerned.

Sam’s arm reaches out, dipping behind the bar, and retrieving a small tray, placing it between us.

“My pleasure, pretty girl,” he murmurs, teeth grazing against his bottom lip.

My insides turn to goo and leak out from between my legs as I try to act fucking normal.

“So, how’d you know I’ve never been on a cruise before?

” Switching the conversation is a must, since sitting through family dinner with a pulsing pussy is not on the list of things I want to experience at the moment.

The heat in his eyes dissipates slowly. “You don’t have your sea legs yet.”

“My what?”

“You’re still a little green around the gills, despite being on the ship for over a day, and your legs are unsteady beneath you. Your body attunes to the movement of the boat and the ocean when you’re used to being on the water.”

“So…you’re saying I walk like a drunk?”

“Somewhat,” he chuckles.

“I better have a few drinks then, so I can blame my inability to walk on the booze and not the waves.” Grabbing my drink from the bar, I take a long pull from the straw.

He tilts the beer bottle against his lips, letting the cold beverage flow between them.

I watch his throat work, Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow, and before I know it, I’ve almost drained my glass.

“Stare much?”

My sister’s voice scares the shit out of me, and I suck the mixed vodka cocktail down the wrong tube, initiating a coughing fit. “Shit, Chelsea. Don’t fucking do that!”

She cackles maniacally. “Dad wants to know what’s taking so long.” Her gaze sweeps over the man in front of me, clearly liking what she sees. “You know how he gets without his dirty martini.”

Sam turns his body, giving us privacy, striking up a conversation with his heavily-tattooed coworker behind the bar.

“Are these our drinks?” she asks, gesturing to the sweating glasses before me.

“Yeah,” I reply, placing the drinks on the tray. There’s only six of us but everyone always doubles up so we don’t have to wait on refills.

“Don’t dawdle, I’m hungry,” she says, winking. “But he’s cute, so I’ll hold Dad off a bit longer. Then you’re on your own.”

I groan internally. I’ll be lucky if she keeps her mouth shut.

It’s much more likely she rushes back to the table and verbal diarrheas all over it about how I’m talking to a boy.

“Thanks, Chels.” She picks up the tray, disappearing back into the crowd evenly dispersed through the large room, long golden ponytail swaying back and forth.

Dining tables are spread across the far side, white tablecloths soaking up the warm lighting of the area.

There’s a stage where a DJ is set up, playing soft music that’s easy to eat and mingle to.

A dance floor lies before the stage, though no one is utilizing it at the moment.

The large chandelier above sways with the movement of the boat, casting shadows around the room as it moves.

I focus on the rocking of the vessel, trying to get my body to flow with it instead of against it.

A hand lands gently over mine placed on the bar, pulling me from my focus. “You’re too rigid,” Sam says. “Here, let me show you.”

Was he watching me? That’s fucking embarrassing.

Pausing, he seems to wait for my reply. But I have no idea what the fuck he means, so I nod slightly. His large hand wraps around my middle, pulling me against him. A gasp slips out as the warmth of his solid body soaks into me.

Is this moving too fast? We’ve only been talking for a handful of minutes but the seamlessness of our conversation makes it easy—effortless.

It’s like we’ve skipped the awkward stage and are more than just newly acquainted strangers.

He caught my sights on boarding day, the wink he shot me ensured I wouldn't forget him.

Aside from a few longing looks and flirty smiles, this is our first real encounter.

His lack of hesitation to touch me proves he feels the same sense of familiarity and chemistry that I do.

“You need to rock with the ship,” he says, waiting for the large vessel to dip again, but it stays true. We must have hit calmer waters. “Of course Poseidon would hold steady right when I need him to throw you against me.”

I can’t help but laugh as he exaggerates a frustrated huff. “You can show me later,” I whisper, hating I’m not bolder, fearless, more confident—like my sister.

“What was that?” His fingers tilt my chin up as he gazes down upon me, small and insecure in his embrace.

“Nothing,” I reply, pulling away.

Sam’s grip on me tightens, not letting me slip free.

His excitement presses against my hip and my insides clench.

Leaning down, his lips tease over my jaw.

“I can’t wait to show you later,” he rumbles against the shell of my ear.

His touch slips down my spine, rounding to grip my hip.

Electricity buzzes between us, my body drawn to him like a magnet.

“Fuck, I want to kiss you,” he breathes.

I want that. I’m so wound up after this brief encounter with him, I’d sneak in a broom-closet-quickie if I could make it past my father.

His gaze burns into mine, but I pull away, casting my sight around the room.

Narrowing in on my family, I see my parents striding their way across the floor toward the washrooms. Chelsea locks in on my gaze, giving me a thumbs up, as my stepbrother and his friend are entranced with their cell phones.

Now is my chance.

Be bold.

Brave.

Fearless.

Turning back to Sam, I feel him backing up, giving me the space my silence has implied. Having taken too long to reply, I’ve lost my shot.

Not happening.

I grab the collar of his dark grey t-shirt, and crash our lips together. His arms snake around me, crushing me to him as he groans into my mouth. I swallow down his lust as mine threatens to tear me apart.

His left hand trails down, cupping my ass, and coaxing my leg to wrap around him. His tongue teases over my lips, pleading for entrance as his fingers trace over the seam of my shorts, dragging across my centre. I gasp, and he slips his tongue against mine, smiling through the kiss.

The bartender loudly clears his throat, tapping his knuckles against the bar. I rip myself from Sam’s hold, aroused and embarrassed beyond belief. “Trying to serve customers here, guys.”

“Sorry,” I reply, fingers touching my swollen lips.

What the fuck has gotten into me? I’m not this person at all.

“Later?” Sam rasps, waiting for my confirmation.

Right…family dinner.

“Later,” I verify. Play hard-to-get. Be confident. Don’t be yourself. He doesn’t know you. You can be anyone. Redefine yourself. Crush that wallflower title beneath your shoe. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” he quirks, and I shrug, trying to be coy.

“All right, guess I’ll stick around so you can’t get away from me.”

“Hope you’re good at hide and seek,” I whisper, leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

His fingers fist my shirt, holding me to him. “I’d tear this ship apart to find you.”

Eight simple words strung together by his sex-dipped tone manage to make me lose my breath. Fuck, this hot cruise worker I’m trapped with for a week might just be the death of me.