Well, fuck me. Grant had been on this ship all of six hours and already he had a sexy woman in his arms on the dance floor. He hadn’t meant to slam into her as he was leaving the club. That had been an accident. He’d been hoping to get better cell reception if he stepped outside for a moment.
That moment had passed, however. Fuck cell reception. It was overrated. He was on vacation. Everyone knew it. No one could possibly need him so badly that he couldn’t spend some time on the dance floor.
Callie was gorgeous. Five-eight he figured without the four-inch heels. Fit. Like seriously fit. He suspected he would find her running on the treadmill first thing tomorrow morning. Although, she seemed to have consumed a few drinks, so perhaps not the first thing in the morning.
All that sexy, thick brown hair that hung in waves down her back made him lick his lips more than a few times. He wanted to bury his hands in it. And he prayed the music would switch to a slow song soon so he could slide one palm up her back and feel the locks brush against his knuckles.
She was rusty for a few seconds as if she hadn’t been dancing in a while, but then again, so was he. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to a club and even then, he most likely hadn’t danced.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t dance. He had some moves. He just hadn’t had much time in the last several years to devote to the pastime.
Callie was slowly relaxing. He suspected that like him she was struggling to ignore the real world and let herself get into vacation mode. Although in her case, she probably at least had a serious day job from which she was taking vacation time.
In Grant’s case, this vacation had been more or less forced. He’d been discharged from the Navy—SEALs in particular—a month ago. Luckily, he’d been in communication with some other buddies and quickly lined up a civilian job that wouldn’t start for a few more weeks. So, he was between jobs.
The forced downtime should have him loose and relaxed, but Grant wasn’t normally a loose and relaxed sort of guy. He was beyond bitter about his exit from the Navy still and kept a close eye on his phone mostly in case his new bosses needed anything from him.
Ryker and Ajax had told him to enjoy himself and call them in a few weeks, but fuck if Grant was very good at relaxing. He hadn’t relaxed in over a decade. Old habits were hard to break.
Lucky for Grant, the next song was a slow song, and he pulled Callie into his arms and splayed a hand on the small of her back. The dress she was wearing was fantastic. It showed off her curves and left nothing to the imagination. Perfect hips and ass, slender stomach, high breasts. Not too large, which was fine with him. He’d never fully understood the fascination men had with enormous tits.
What he liked most about the silver dress was that it was backless, which meant Grant was now touching her smooth skin. He was also able to inhale her scent, and she smelled amazing. He didn’t know what her hair smelled like, but he loved it.
After nestling her cheek against his chest for a few minutes, she tipped her head back. Her expression was skeptical.
He smiled. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, do you now?” There was a twinkle in her eyes. “Tell me.”
“You’re thinking, man, I hope this guy doesn’t turn out to be an asshole because I’m stuck on this ship for eleven days and I’ll never be able to escape him.”
She tipped her head back farther and laughed. “Are you a mind reader?”
He laughed too. “Nope, but I was thinking the same thing.”
When the song ended, they returned to their tables where Holden had pulled a chair up to the ladies’ table and was straddling his stool, talking to Callie’s friend.
Holden held out a hand toward Callie. “Holden.”
She shook his hand politely. “Callie.”
Grant pulled out her stool and slid it back up closer to the table after she hopped onto it.
She sent him a sideways look as he pulled a stool up next to her. A look that said she was impressed and pleased. Made him wonder what sort of douchebags she’d dated who didn’t help a lady into her seat.
Grant extended a hand to Callie’s friend. “Grant.”
“Melanie. Mel is fine.”
He nodded. She eyed him skeptically too. Grant thought it was a good sign. These women looked out for each other.
She gave him a slow grin and turned toward Callie. “I ordered you another drink.”
Callie cringed. “I’ve lost track of how many of these I’ve had.” She didn’t hesitate to finish off the one she’d been working on and push the empty glass to the center of the table though.
“It’s vacation,” Mel announced. “Live a little.”
“So…” Holden began, glancing at both women. “Where are you gals from?”
Grant winced inside. He didn’t really want to open up a get-to-know-you discussion and have to explain his weird place in life. He hardly understood what the hell was going on in his life right now himself. He was in no mood to discuss it with strangers.
Melanie shook her head. “Uh uh. No questions.” She glanced at Callie conspiratorially. “We’re just here to have fun. No talk of careers or jobs or last names or hometowns. Let’s pretend none of us existed until we boarded this ship today.”
Grant liked this plan. Simple. Easy. Light. Relaxing.
Holden chuckled. “Okay then. No shop talk. No life details. I can live with that. Drinks. Dancing. Laughing.”
“Let’s not forget sleeping,” Callie pointed out. “I need a year’s worth of sleep this week.”
“You and me both,” Grant agreed. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d slept without one eye open. He was looking forward to dropping into his bed with no alarm and letting the ship lull him into slumber for as many hours as possible.
The conversation changed to mundane things like favorite colors, movies, musical genres. Grant was glad that Mel and Holden seemed to be getting along. Grant had only met Holden recently, and coincidentally the two of them were sharing a room. He found they meshed together well enough, and it was nice that the foursome they’d found themselves in were having fun as a group.
The other two guys they were traveling with—Keene and Tavis—had scattered, heading to another club or the casino.
Mel kept ordering drinks. Callie kept reprimanding her, but she continued to sip the mojitos down like they were Kool-Aid. Grant wasn’t surprised. Mojitos were sweet and easy to drink. He stuck to beer and was being cautious. Mostly because he didn’t want to spend the entire week hungover. He couldn’t hold as much alcohol as he could in his early twenties.
After a few more trips to the dance floor and a lot of laughter and drinking, Callie started to sway.
Grant reached out to steady her before she fell off the stool.
She grabbed the edge of the table and took a breath. “Okay. I think I’m done. I’ve had way too much to drink, and I’m so tired I’m likely to fall asleep sitting here soon.”
Mel looked over at her. “Do you mind if I stay a while longer?”
“Not at all. I’m sure I’m going to pass out and won’t even notice when you come into the room.” Callie giggled as she slid off the stool and hugged her friend.
Mel glanced at Grant.
He stood also. “I’ll make sure she gets back to her cabin.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed over Callie’s head.
Grant gave Holden a fist pump and set a hand on the small of Callie’s back to lead her out of the club.
The boat was swaying, but Callie’s unsteady steps had more to do with alcohol. She was drunk, and he suspected she didn’t drink this much very often. “What floor are you on, Callie?” he asked her as he grabbed her elbow to keep her from slamming into the wall.
“Eleven.”
Convenient. He was also on eleven. He led her to the elevators, chuckling when they stepped inside and she leaned her entire body against his, tipping her head back and resting her chin on his chest.
He wasn’t complaining, but he was confident she was not ordinarily this forward.
When the doors slid open, she groaned as he helped her into the hallway. “Room number?”
“Six thirty-one.”
She was even on the same side of the ship as him. Another interesting coincidence.
When she swayed toward the wall again, he caught her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and nearly carried her the short distance to her room. The easy part was opening the door. The key fobs everyone wore on their person automatically unlocked their doors as they approached. At least he knew they were at the right room.
He also knew her real name now. Caroline Singleton. He wouldn’t mention that fact, but it popped up in front of his eyes as the door snicked to unlock.
Grant intended to open the door, make sure she was inside, and walk away. He had no business going inside with her. She was too drunk. But Callie grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him into the cabin with her, giggling and tugging on him as she came up on her toes.
Before the door even closed behind them, she had her lips on his. Not a tentative kiss, but a full demanding lip lock. The kind one would only plant on a man they’d just met if they intended to get laid.
That was so not happening for so many reasons. There wasn’t a chance in hell Grant would sleep with a drunk woman. He also liked Callie and wouldn’t take advantage of her the first night he met her anyway. On top of that, he wouldn’t be able to avoid her easily over the next ten days, so he’d feel like a dick if he fucked her tonight.
He set his hands on her shoulders, but Lord the woman could kiss. She wasted no time adding her tongue and dueling with his. Her hands slid up his back and then his neck. It was the moan that slipped out that made his cock hard.
She kept backing up too, not that there was far to go. These cabins weren’t huge. It only took a few strides to find themselves standing between the beds.
“Damn, you feel so good,” she murmured against his lips. Her hands smoothed down his back and over his ass.
He was holding on to reason by a thread. “You need sleep, Callie.”
She stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “That’s no fun. It’s vacation,” she announced. “What happens on the cruise, stays on the cruise,” she slurred.
He tried to take a step back, his hands on her shoulders again, but she held on tighter, gripping his ass with her fingers.
“I think you should fuck me,” she declared as her palms slid around to his front.
Just before she managed to grab his cock, he stopped her, wrapping his fingers around both her wrists and lifting her hands up to his chest. He’d never been in a situation like this before with a gorgeous woman begging him to fuck her and him determined to stop her.
What’s wrong with you? he asked himself. But he knew the answer. He wasn’t that kind of asshole. “You need sleep, Callie,” he repeated.
She pouted again. “We can sleep after you fuck me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had sex?” Every word was slurred.
Grant gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. There wasn’t a chance in hell she would talk like this if she were sober. “I don’t need to know the answer to that, Callie. You need to sleep this off.”
“Over a year,” she stammered. “And that guy sucked in bed. Or…” She swayed a bit to the right, nearly falling, but he held her up. “Maybe it was that he didn’t suck. Yep. That was the problem. He was boring. He said oral was not his thing. Can you believe that?” Her eyes were wide.
Frankly, no. Grant couldn’t believe it, and he wished he didn’t know it either. She was making it more and more difficult to turn her down by the second.
She pulled her hands free of his grip and reached up behind her head. Before he could stop her, she had unfastened the clasp at the back of her neck and the slinky silver material of her dress slid to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a thong.
Fuck. Just fuck.
She was stunning. Gorgeous. And she wanted him.
No. Absolutely not. She didn’t really want him. She was drunk.
Grant leaned over to the bed, tugged the covers back, and nearly shoved Callie onto her back.
She giggled as she hit the mattress.
Ignoring her amazing body, he squatted down next to her and removed her silver heels before lifting her feet onto the bed and pulling the covers over her.
He finally took a breath. She was going to kill him with her sexy body. Spinning around, he found a bottle of water and brought it to her. He sat on the edge of her bed, lifted her head, and tipped the water to her lips. “Drink, baby.”
She groaned, half asleep now. “Don’t wanna.”
“Do it anyway.” She was going to feel like shit tomorrow if she didn’t get some water in her.
He finally managed to get several sips in her before capping the bottle and setting it on the nightstand next to her, hoping she would find it and drain it later. After bending over to kiss her forehead, he stood, spun around, and exited the room.
It wasn’t until he was in the hallway, the door closed at his back that he finally drew in deep breaths. “Shit,” he muttered as he headed for his own room. He wasn’t nearly as drunk. He intended to sleep hard and hit the gym when he woke up.
Callie was going to have the headache from hell in the morning. At least he knew her room number so he could check on her. Or hopefully Holden had gotten her roommate’s phone number. That would be even better. He could text Mel and make sure Callie was okay.
Grant headed for his own cabin, stripped down, and took a long shower. He spent the majority of it with one hand on the wall of the small enclosure, eyes closed, his other hand around his cock. He was grateful Holden hadn’t returned to the room yet because all he could picture was Callie’s fucking sexy body sprawled out on her bed, her breasts high and tight, her rosy nipples hard as rocks.
He’d tried not to let himself gawk, but he hadn’t missed the thin black lace thong that barely covered anything and punctuated the fact that she was shaved bare. Nope. He hadn’t let his gaze linger on any of that. Not at all.
Except the images of her body were now burned into his brain and the next time he saw her he was going to have to adjust his cock at the memory.
It didn’t take long for him to come. It wasn’t enough, but it took the edge off. He certainly would have rather been inside Callie’s hot body, the body that had apparently been neglected for over a year and even then had been underwhelmed by a strange man who hadn’t enjoyed going down on a woman.
Grant shuddered at the thought as he grabbed a pair of shorts and climbed into bed. He’d give his left nut to spread Callie open and suck her pussy until she screamed. Who the fuck wouldn’t want to do that?
After tossing and turning on the narrow cruise-ship bed, Grant finally fell asleep to visions of the mysterious woman he’d met tonight still swimming around in his head.