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Rebel(70)

By:Kim Linwood


But first things first, where are my clothes?

My top I find shoved into the chair, and my dress was hanging off the table, but my bottoms are nowhere to be found. Gavin smacks my ass while I’m crouched over to look under things.

“Hey!”

He laughs. “Leave it. It’ll make someone’s library trip a little more interesting.”

“I only packed one suit!”

“So I’ll buy you new ones. Or better yet, keep you naked the rest of the trip.”

I try to look scandalized, but I’m too happy to pull it off and he just reaches a hand up my dress to cup a bare cheek.

“Now let’s get out of here so we can go take this shit back off.”

Well, with an offer like that...





Chapter 37: Angie


I curl away from the light peeking through our curtains, rolling right into Gavin’s arms. His eyes are still closed, his breath even. I love watching him sleep, how his broad chest rises and falls and how his face relaxes. It’s like seeing the real him, something he doesn’t show very often, but that I’m not quite a stranger with anymore.

Running my fingers across his chest, I trace the lines and curves. Even with several days’ opportunity to explore every inch of his body, I’m not tired of it. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I circle a nipple, and he starts to stir, at least a little bit. He looks at me through hooded eyes and smiles.

I roll onto him, straddling him so I can kiss him, and almost regret it. “Ugh. Morning breath.”

He laughs, waking quickly. “Right back atcha, babe.”

It’s funny how him calling me that doesn’t bother me anymore. Guess it’s all about who’s saying it, and how. It used to sound condescending, but now it’s different, softer. When I hear him say “babe”, I also hear him whisper he loves me after he thinks I’m asleep.

I kiss him again. We can be gross together. If that’s not love, what is?

His hands come around to clutch my ass. Something brushes against my thigh. He’s waking up in more ways than one, and the evidence is hardening fast.

Patting his cheek, I grin at his eagerness. “Afraid not, champ. It’s almost ten, and we’re docking soon.”

He groans in disappointment. “I’m sure they’ll hold the ship for us.”

I roll back off, grab a pillow and whack him with it. “Wakey wakey!”

He leaps into action, throwing the pillow across the room before rolling over me and pinning me to the bed. “I need my beauty sleep,” he growls. His hard naked body over me makes me reconsider what needs to get docked where, and when.

Before I say anything, he climbs off. “Alright, dibs on the shower.”

I pout but he’s not watching. “Why not shower together?” The thought of seeing him under the water as it caresses the contours of his body and drips off him already has me wet.

“Because if we do, we’re not getting out any faster than if we stay here and fuck.” He grins and closes the door behind him. He even locks it, the bastard.

I hate it when he’s right.

I almost jump him anyway when he comes out, but I’m a good girl. For now. I take my shower alone under protest. Soon after, we’re dressed and riding the elevator downstairs to the lobby. We’re packed in like sardines with everyone else getting ready to disembark. When we reach the main deck, we’re of course in the back corner since we got on first and have to wait until everyone else is out. It’s going to be a while.

“Time,” he says.

“What?” I look around for a clock.

“The thing I want the most that I can’t buy.”

Oh, that. “Time?”

“Yeah. I used to think it was time with Dad.” He shrugs.

“Why? I thought you guys couldn’t stand each other.”

He chuckles. “It’s not that bad. He doesn’t approve of most of the things I do, but I think he feels guilty too. He’s running a multi-billion dollar corporation.” With a sigh, he picks up his suitcase as the elevator clears. “That means not a lot of time for other things. Like your soon-to-be ex-wives. Or your somewhat unexpected son. So that’s what I always wished for.”

“That sucks.” It feels lame, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Yup,” he agrees, then steps out of the elevator.

“Wait.”

He turns, looking at me curiously.

“You said you used to think it was time with Dad. What is it now, then?”

That confident smirk that I used to hate spreads on his face. “Time with you, babe.”





Epilogue: Angie


“Mr. Caldwell. Dr. Wilson.” Four years later, Captain Chuck might be a little bit more gray and a have a couple more wrinkles, but other than that he looks just the same, immaculate in his white dress uniform. He’d laughed hard when we explained why we wanted to him to marry us. Again, as far as he knew.