Dylan panted. The water dripped from his nose as he hung his head and caught his breath. His arms were still braced against the sides of the shower, and he looked spent, but not weakened by any stretch. Michaela stepped back, turning to get out of the shower.

“Not so fast, young lady.” Dylan grabbed her wrist and spun her back toward him. As he pulled her into his heaving chest, his lips nuzzled her throat, and he growled, “cheeky.”

She smiled, but he gave her little time to rest on her laurels. The kiss that followed was a merciless tease, feathery light, then hard and deep. A mere flutter of his tongue on her still-moist lips, then a sharp nip from his bared teeth.

“You don’t think you can pull that trick on me and get away with it?” He pushed her back against the wall, his hands again stroking her breasts before they slid down, following the path of the shower water toward the translucent lace scrap of her briefs. With his hard body pressed against hers, she was helpless to escape. He pushed her hips against the wall with his own, and she felt his full strength.

“My turn.” The words emerged from his throat as little more than a sexy snarl.

Michaela gasped. “What are you—”

But his lips captured her mouth and silenced her once more. Releasing her only when she’d stopped protesting, Dylan clenched her firm buttocks in both hands, lifting and putting her down on the small ledge set into the shower wall to hold soaps. “It’ll break,” she said, but he hushed her again, lifting her arms above her head and guiding them to hold on to the sturdy curtain rail that ran the whole way around the shower box.

His eyes had turned as liquid as the shower water, their emerald depths steamier by far than the vapor that circled their heads. His hands smoothed the water across her body, massaging the firm flesh of her arms, her breasts, her stomach and thighs. Then he knelt before her, the water pouring off his broad shoulders, and gently blew a hot kiss against her sex. One of his hands moved up her body again to palm her breast, and he half stood to take it again in his mouth while leaving the other hand to massage between her legs.

When she thought she wouldn’t be able to take it any longer, his hand slid beneath the waistband of her sodden panties and ripped her last piece of protection away. He kneeled again between her legs…and waited.

“Oh, please,” she moaned, and with a grin he obliged her, sliding a finger deep inside her. She shuddered as he stroked back and forth, gently probing her inner secrets and reaching the deepest parts of her. When he withdrew the finger, slicked it over her clitoris, and moved it back inside, Michaela clenched at the curtain rail, desperate to pull him toward her, to force him to enter her more fully and ride her all the way to climax. Yet she was afraid that if she let go, she would fall from the ledge—or worse, break it. She would hate to have to explain to housekeeping just exactly how the shower had come to be in such disarray.

Slowly, very slowly, he pulled his finger out again. This time, he used two fingers to circle and massage her clit until her muscles clenched, then thrust both fingers inside.

“Michaela.” The smile was obvious in his voice. “You’ve been without a man for far too long.”

“I don’t think—” He put his other hand up to her mouth, quieting her, and plunged the two fingers back inside to completely distract her. Letting his hand fall away from her mouth, Dylan trailed it down her body, then stopped to tweak her nipples and toy with each breast as he kept the steady rhythm of his fingers in, out, swirling around her clit, back in.

Her arms started to shake, and she opened her legs wider. “Please,” she said. She’d forgotten this need—or maybe never experienced it before. This need to be filled. “I want you,” she said, barely able to get the words out.

“Of course you do, but you can’t have everything you want. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” He punctuated his teasing comment with a deeper trust of his fingers. “But perhaps you can have a little taste.”

He dipped his head between her thighs and pulled her clitoris into his mouth. The flicker and chase of his tongue built her up and then released her so that she rose again and again, only to be gently let back down to earth to rest for a second before he started over.

“Now?” he asked, and she just nodded, unable to speak. Then, finally, he brought her to the peak, thrusting and circling with both his mouth and fingers until her whole body shook as she came and came and came.

She tasted sweet, hot and slippery from the shower. Michaela’s soft, tanned thighs trembled around his face, and he held her up so her orgasm would go on and on. As she spasmed, she began to call his name, and Dylan had to hurriedly cover her mouth for fear that the whole floor would hear her.

When her shaking finally ceased, he raised his head and saw her tawny eyes glossed with satisfaction. He stood, lifting her gently down from the small ledge and tucking her breasts back into the bra, which was now stretched and sodden.

She looked down at where his hands lingered. “How am I going to wear this out of here?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” The thought of her bare breasts pressed against her tight white uniform shirt as she walked through the ship almost made him hard again. “Promise me you’ll never wear underwear again.”

Michaela laughed and slapped his hands away, apparently much easier in his company now. Good.

As he reached above her head to turn off the shower, she sniffed. “You smell good.”

“I’ll smell better when I don’t have to use Jake’s shampoo anymore.”

“True.” She smiled. “I better go.” She stepped out of the shower and into the fluffy white towel he held open for her.

The strength of his disappointment surprised him. “Really? But we haven’t even—” The sound of a plastic key card in the lock interrupted him.

Michaela’s eyes blazed. “You said—”

Jake walked into the room, stopping short when he saw Michaela. “Cruise Director,” he said, nodding to her.

“I… My shower isn’t working, and Dylan offered to let me use yours…”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m hardly going to tell, am I? Where would I say I’d been?” Jake gave an exaggerated wink.

“Um, indeed.” Michaela fixed him with what she probably thought was a very stern look. Dylan would have laughed if the situation had been different.

“Don’t worry,” Jake assured her again. “I’ll just pop out for a few turns on the deck. Evening constitutional and all that.” Chortling, he turned on his heel before anyone could protest.




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