I’m just about to risk sliding my hand under the elastic so I can get my skin right on hers when someone knocks on the door. She stiffens, while I try to ignore it. “Sssh, babe.”
The knock comes again. “Mr. Caldwell, Sir?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “What is it?”
“Important message for you, Sir.” The voice is a little squeaky, as if its owner’s voice is still changing.
“Let go of me.” I look down to find Angie looking back up over her shoulder, her tone measured and even. “Let me go.” I can’t read her eyes. Her face is flushed and she doesn’t seem angry, but confused, maybe?
The moment’s ruined anyway, so I let up. She slides quickly out of my lap and wraps the comforter around herself, like she’s suddenly embarrassed to be seen in her underwear. Fuck, innocence isn’t usually my thing, but she’s sexy when she blushes.
“Sir?” Right. The guy at the door.
Angie looks right at me. “Shouldn’t you get that?”
Chapter 11: Angie
Gavin gets up and adjusts himself to hide the huge bulge in his pants. The memory of it pressing against my stomach while he was spanking me... spanking me flashes through my mind and without thinking about it, I put a hand against the spot where it rubbed.
His hands, his cock, the memory of their touch feels branded into my skin. He was in full control. I’d been completely at his mercy, and I’d loved it. But it’s Gavin. Asshole, stepbrother, playboy. Not my boyfriend. I don’t want to need him like that. He’d chew up my heart and spit it out. Except I can think that all I want, but it doesn’t make me any less wet.
Crap.
I throw on one of my beach wraps like a robe and go see who’s at the door. Gavin’s standing there looking like raw sex and pissed to be interrupted. Next to him, the steward at the door looks like a kid playing dress up in an oversized sailor suit.
“Good morning, Sir. I sincerely hope I didn’t disturb you,” The steward manages to squeak out.
Gavin snorts. “You did. What do you want?”
The kid swallows. “I was asked by the captain to bring you this message.” He hands over a silver plate with a card on it. “It’s an invitation for you and your lovely fiancée to join Captain Melbourne at his table for dinner tonight.”
My eyes widen at that. At the captain’s table? That sounds fancy, and I mostly brought bikinis and t-shirts. Crap. “Gavin, tell him we can’t—”
“Thank you. Please tell the captain we’d be honored.” Gavin’s reply is silky smooth. He sounds like his dad, all wealth and courtesy. It suits him. But it’s also the wrong answer.
“Gavin—”
The steward continues, “He also asked me to let you know that all arrangements are in place for Sunday, just as you requested.”
“Arrangements?” Gavin runs a hand through his messy hair, sounding as confused as I am.
“Yes, Sir. For...” He trails off, then nods his head in my direction as if I can’t see it. “The arrangements, Sir. At 6:00 PM on Sunday.”
I still don’t think Gavin gets it. I know I don’t, but he nods. “Right. Of course. Tell Captain Melbourne thank you, and that we’ll join him for dinner tonight. At what time?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s at eight, Sir.”
“Excellent. Write yourself a tip for the favor and put it on this room. A hundred bucks.”
The steward’s eyes go wide just like mine do, but to his credit his mouth doesn’t drop open, unlike mine. For all I know, that’s standard tipping fare on a ship like this, but I suspect not. “Thank you, Sir. That’s very generous.”
“Consider it a deposit on leaving a fucking note next time. You got me?” Gavin, apparently done with keeping up appearances, shuts the door in his face and turns to me. “Dinner with the captain, huh?”
“Gavin!” I hiss, clutching my wrap around me. “I don’t have anything to wear. And a hundred bucks in tip?”
“That’s alright. I think you look great in what you’ve got on, to be honest. Unless I can talk you out of it.” He grins, crossing his thick arms over his chest and leaning up against the liquor cabinet.
The heat of my blush rushes to my face, my thoughts suddenly back on being over his knee and his fingers probing my... “I’m serious! I didn’t bring clothes for a fancy dinner. I was figuring on living on buffets and fruity drinks while I lounged by the pool.”
He looks at me curiously, like he doesn’t get the problem. “Alright. So we’ll pick some up then. There’s plenty of shopping on board.”