Chapter 2
Dinner drags on at a snail’s pace as I feel Sam’s eyes on me the entire time. They trace across my skin leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I can’t focus, and I’m sure as hell not hungry for the steak placed before me.
But I power through it to avoid the guilt trip I’ll get from stepmother about the cost of it going to waste.
Father would be less than pleased if the baby of the family didn’t clear her plate.
“Eat up, shortcake, or you’ll never be as tall as us.
” His endlessly repeated words ring in my head as I work my teeth into the meat that’s clearly well-done even though I asked for medium-rare.
As though I manifested the statement simply by thinking about it, he says those annoying words again.
I resist the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes and stick my food covered tongue out at him.
I’m literally attempting to swallow down a piece of rubber trying to pass as strip loin.
Instead, I smile, tight-lipped and forced.
I’m twenty-two for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be told how much to eat, I’m well past the point of a growth spurt.
Being the runt of the family, along with the last born, is a real pain in the asshole.
Which is significantly more agonizing than a pain in the ass cheek.
Distinction is important. You need to know how much I loath my position in the family, along with everyone in it.
Except my sister. I love her. I’m just jealous I’m not more like her.
And that insecurity comes from the lifelong thought that I can’t think or do things for myself instilled in me by everyone, including her.
From the corner of my eye I watch Sam leave the dining room, heading towards the main deck.
I no longer care about the chiding I’ll get from my parents for abandoning the food I didn’t want in the first place.
But, of course, they ordered for me while I was engaged at the bar with the handsome cruise worker.
Looking up from my plate, my eyes clash with my stepbrother. His dark orbs narrow as he observes me. Jutting his elbow into his friend’s side, Tyler grabs his attention.
These two are the worst of the worst. I’ve never been bullied more horribly in my life than by them.
It was never ending. Even now, they can’t pass up an opportunity to hurt me.
I could never escape them, my home not even offering me a reprieve from the relentless torment.
Tyler has lived under the same roof since we were kids, forever right across the hall, and Liam’s basically attached to him at the dick. Fucking inseparable shit heads.
Their matching glares of disdain smother me as I lift my ass from the seat, ready to excuse myself to the restroom. “So… Who’s that guy you were kissing?” Tyler asks as Liam stifles a snicker. The colour drains from my face as I trip over a response.
The table jerks to the left as Chelsea attempts to kick my nemesis in the shin. “What the fuck?” she whisper-snarls, and both my parents turn their sights on me.
“Must have been someone else,” I reply, forcing a calm and flat tone. Turning to leave, I make a direct line to the bathroom since I know I’m being watched, and don’t have a chance in hell at sneaking out.
The hinges squeak when I forcefully push the door open. Storming over to the sink, I glare at my reflection in the mirror. What a dick! Gods, I could just strangle him, and his stupid fucking friend. Pushing them off the bedroom balcony into the freezing cold ocean would be so satisfying.
I turn the knob on the sink, washing my hands, then running my cold, wet fingers over my face and neck.
So what if I want to hook up with someone on this vacation I was forced to come on?
I’m an adult. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every inch of independence I’ve obtained, but that just makes it all the sweeter when I get it.
Finally acquiring my own apartment was the best fucking feeling, and I can’t wait to move in after returning from this hellish trip.
The thought elates me, lifting my mood tremendously. I might not have my own room during this trip, but I’m sure Sam knows more than enough secluded places we could sneak away to if he doesn’t have his own private room.
That needy thump between my thighs returns as I picture him dragging me to a dark corner in the depths of the ship and—
Knock, knock.
“There’s someone in here,” I reply.
Who knocks before entering a public bathroom?
My gaze sweeps around the room, surmising it must be cleaning time based on the grime coating the counter and floor. “Just a minute.”
Turning back to the mirror, I fluff the roots of my bright scarlet-red hair. Maintaining it is a bitch, but I love looking like that well-known mermaid. I cross the slick tile floor toward the exit. Gripping the door handle, I swing it open toward myself.
A hand lands over my mouth as I’m forced back into the bathroom. “Found you,” Sam growls, removing his hand and smashing his lips against mine.
Fire rips across my skin as his hands slip under my black t-shirt, gliding across my bare flesh to grip my sides as he lifts me onto the counter. Prying my legs apart, he steps between them, never breaking the way his mouth moves against mine.
One of his hands glides down my skin, moving between my legs, and touching me lightly. Testing the waters, he keeps a light and steady pace until I’m the one grinding against his unmoving hand.
Gathering all my courage, I break our kiss. Getting my feet up onto the counter, I let my legs fall open as my fingers pull the fabric of my shorts to the side. Sam watches me, seemingly smitten by my boldness. “Touch me,” I breathe.
“Touch yourself,” he says. “I want to watch.”
Before insecurity can bubble up, I sink two fingers inside my pussy. Pleasure shoots through me as my head falls back against the mirror, a breathy moan slipping from between my lips.
The click of the turning lock is loud as Sam confines me in this room with him, and ensures we won’t be interrupted.
“Look at me,” he demands. My head lifts, eyes fluttering open, and I watch in a lust-fuelled haze as his zipper descends. His veiny shaft springs free, and I stop my thrusting to reach for him. He snatches my wrist, directing my hand back between my legs.
He watches enchanted as my fingers slip back inside. Slowly, he rocks into his hand, timing it to the pace which I set. Rubbing his sensitive crown against my skin, I witness a man shaking with restraint in front of me.
“I’m not going to fuck you in some filthy bathroom,” I say, sliding my dripping fingers from my centre to my clit, circling it. His jaw clenches as his sight dances between my face and exposed centre.
“Fine,” he grinds out. His left arm extends to grip my thigh, pushing it back and spreading me to the point of pain, as his other hand drags his cock back and forth through the arousal seeping out of my throbbing core.
He uses the slickness as lube to stroke himself, while I lose my rhythm watching him.
“Oh, no. You don’t get to stop. You’re cumming with me.”
“What?”
“I’m going to cum all over this pretty pussy, and you better be right there with me.”
My insides twist in the best way, fingers moving of their own accord.
My body knows what I like, working myself to the edge of bliss quickly.
Watching him stroke his thick and veiny cock has me aching to feel it stretch me.
My fingers aren’t enough as I plunge them into my pussy.
There’s no burn, no real depth. It’s not enough, my orgasm is going to fizzle out. “Fuck me,” I pant.
Sam’s eyes fly to mine. “What?”
“Please…fuck me,” I breathe.
“No,” he grinds out.
“No?” I reply, shocked. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“It’s not what you want.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Too bad, you’ll take what I give you,” he taunts, knuckles brushing roughly over my clit with every stroke of his erection.
“You cocksucker!”
“Careful, pretty girl, or you’ll end up the cocksucker.”
“Please,” I pout. I’ll say anything to have him drive that pulsing dick into me so hard I cry.
“You beg so perfectly, Rosie,” he coos, hand abandoning my thigh as he cups my cheek, thumb sweeping across my lips.
I lean into the touch. Damn, this man might just be perfect.
His gaze softens watching me. He’s drawing me in like a blow fly to a fresh corpse, mixing the softness and raging desire so magnificently, and I doubt he even realizes it.
He’s like a brand on my skin. I’ll never forget about him, never not feel him, even when this cruise is over and we go our separate ways, he’s going to linger like a stubborn scar.
“Maybe just a taste,” he murmurs, gaze unlocking from mine and trailing down to where we touch. The crown of his dick is covered in my arousal, it slides in with no resistance when he presses into me.
My eyes roll back as heat bleeds from every nerve ending, coating me in a thin sheen of sweat. “Watch, Rosie,” he directs, moving his hand to the back of my neck and pulling me up.
My gaze locks on where we connect, eagerly waiting for him to bottom out. But he doesn’t—pulling away before he’s even halfway in.
“Wha—” I breathe.
“Shhhh,” he whispers, smirking as he slowly sinks back in, only fucking me with half of what he can give me.
“Please,” I whine, trying to wrap my free leg around him to pull him into me.
He catches the movement, pinning my leg to the counter with the hand that was gripping his length.
“More,” I cry. “I need more.” His hips move faster as his hand abandons my leg, fingers moving to my clit.
“If I give you everything now, what’s going to keep you coming back for more, pretty girl?”
I don’t know why it’s that statement that pushes me to the brink, but my pussy grips his tip and he fucking moans because of it. Maybe I just needed the validation that he wants me again, it pushes my nerves back down below the surface.
His thumb presses into my clit, applying the right amount of pressure while circling it slowly. He’s no frantic clitoral DJ that doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Sam reads my body. He watched me touch myself, and now mimics what I need almost flawlessly.
My back arches, eyes rolling back once again, as my release crashes through me.
Sam groans, slamming in to the hilt, ripping a scream from my throat.
His lips press into mine as he grips my hips ruthlessly, pushing himself as deep as he can.
His kiss swallows the pleasure-rich sob fighting to break free as I convulse around his length.
The back of my head touches the mirror as I break our kiss, trying to catch my breath. He pulls out, shooting his release onto my skin. A satisfied smirk curves his mouth as he tugs my panties over my centre, snapping them back into place. “Seriously?” I snark.
“Yeah, and you better still be wearing them when I find you again later.”
“Why?”
“I want to taste myself on your skin when I devour that needy cunt.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t disobey me, Rosie.”
“Why?”
“Because then you’ll be the one choking on cum, not me.”
“Jesus,” I whisper to myself, not hating his bluntness or the mental image of kneeling before him.
Sam leans in, kissing me gently, and pulling me from the thoughts his filthy mouth conjured up. “I’m the furthest thing from a holy man, Rosie, but I know there’s no Gods who can save you now.”