Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy (15 page)

When he touched me, I startled.  His hand came to rest gently on my hip.  All of my attention centered there.

He was touching me, but I was still undecided.  Ed had secrets.  Did I think that a safe full of gold was the last of them?  No, I did not.

His hand shifted, and I felt the slightest breeze as he inched the hem of my shirt upward.  When his fingertips brushed my bare skin, I gasped.  Tingles raced through me, puckering my flesh with goose bumps.  His hand curved around my waist, until his warm fingers spanned my belly.  The heat of his touch seemed to burn through me, bringing an answering heat from between my thighs.

He pulled gently, and I rocked backward to find him just behind me.  I made a little sound as I pressed against him.  We were still separated by our clothes, but I was flush against Ed’s front, feeling the firmness of his body. Particularly the bulge hardening against my butt.

“Ed…”  My body wanted him.  It wanted every inch of him.  Against me.  Inside me.

The spot between my thighs pulsed.  I felt empty.  Needy.

“Yes?” he rasped.  His hand was sliding upward under my shirt.  It was moving slowly, asking permission.

“I…”  Could not for the life of me remember what I was going to say.  Yes, maybe?  Or no.

“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, his fingers stroking me gently.  They’d wandered upward until his knuckles brushed the underside of my breast.

I shuddered in his arms.  My breaths came fast as his hand slid up farther, as he cupped me through my bra.  My chest heaved with each inhale, lifting me away from him, and then settling me into his hand.  If I’d had to describe what he was making me feel, it would have looked like Disney magic.  Colorful swirls with sparkles that left me giddy.

But what he was making me want was anything but G-rated.  My hands swung back and found his thighs.  I gripped them, hanging on for dear life as he touched me.

It felt so damn naughty, so illicit.  I couldn’t see him, we weren’t talking.  A few minutes ago I’d had my hand in his underwear drawer, and now…

Now I was pressed against his throbbing erection, with his hand on my breast.

It felt amazing… but I was
still
undecided.  My heart pounded with uncertainty.  I wanted him, but I didn’t know how much of him I wanted.

I made a frustrated sound, irritated with myself for hesitating.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m shitty at keeping secrets,” I admitted.

He laughed, the sound rumbling against me.

“You, however, are not,” I said.  “You have more.  More secrets.”

The hand enfolding my breast stilled, his breath paused, and I knew I was right.

“Big ones?” I asked.

His fingertips resumed their slow teasing of my nipple, shooting sparks of pleasure through me.  “Yes,” he admitted.

“I’m kind of a 100% transparency person,” I said.  Despite my words, when his hand moved to the other breast, I arched my back, pushing myself into it.

“Meaning?”

“I want to know everything about you, if you’re going to touch me like this.”

“Everything?”

God, even his voice was seducing me.  It was like honey in my ear, like hot fudge on a molten chocolate cake.

“That seems like it’d get kind of boring, knowing everything about a person.  They’d be predictable.  Safe,” he whispered against the tender skin of my neck.  He squeezed my nipple just hard enough that I shoved back against him.

“Safe is good,” I gasped.  I’d tilted my head to the side, begging him to kiss me.  My fingers hooked in his belt.

“Sometimes,” he agreed.  His beard brushed me first, soft yet wiry.  The texture of it had me pulling on him, trying to get him closer still. “But sometimes,” he said, “what you don’t know can’t hurt you.” 

“What I’m trying to say…”

“Yes?”  His satiny lips nuzzled against me, scattering my thoughts.

“…is…”  My eyelids drooped as the sensations overtook me.

A quick swipe of his tongue seared me to the bone.  “Tell me,” he murmured.  He squeezed my breast.

The combination of sensations tripped something in me.  My eyes flashed open, and I lurched forward, yanking out of his grasp.

Before he could get out so much as a word, I’d turned in his arms.  I shoved him.  He swayed backward, looking surprised.  I moved closer, pushing against his chest.  He dropped back to his butt, bracing his weight on his hands.  Then his elbows folded

I watched his eyes as I rode him down, until he was flat on the floor under me.  They flashed, just as dark and full of promise as they’d been in my kitchen.  But he let me press him back, let me straddle him.

And anyway, I didn’t wait for his permission.  As I’d done in my side yard, I simply buried my fingers in his beard.  And then I kissed him.

If kisses could be X-rated, this one most certainly was.  His hands squeezed my ass, and my tongue was in his mouth.  I centered myself over the hard bulge of his cock, and ground against him.

He was pure, undiluted heat and strength.  Fire under me, and throbbing between my thighs.  Our tongues tangled as the kiss deepened.  I was breathing him in with each breath, my hips rocking me against that bulge, burning for more.

I curled my fingers in the hem of his shirt, dragged it upward.  I lay against him, and shuddered when the skin of my belly pressed against his.  The contact was electric.

I’d lost control of my hands.  They were moving over him, dragging, pressing, tracing and kneading soft skin and firm muscle as I kissed him.

It took me forever to realize that his hands weren’t returning the favor.  They were on my arms.  Maybe the touch had started as a caress, but it wasn’t now.  He was pushing me lightly, even as his mouth devoured mine.

He must want my shirt off. 
I wanted it too, wanted him skin-to-skin, wanted him to caress my breasts without the barrier of my bra.  I tore my mouth from his and sat up, ready to bare myself to him, even if he wouldn’t do the same.

He caught my hands.  “Wait.  Wait, wait,” he said breathlessly.

I stopped.  My breath panted.  “What?” 
Oh, shit.
 
Had I scared him? 
Had I been going too fast?  I’d suspected he might be a virgin…

“We can’t.”  But even as he spoke, his hands pushed up along my thighs, his fingertips digging in.  His grip spoke of desire.

I sat back a little farther, shaking my head.  I must have heard him wrong.  But the expression on his face wasn’t right.  There was lust there, but also something… else.

“What?” I asked again, hopelessly confused.

“We can’t,” he repeated.

Yep, apparently that’s what he’d said.

Instead of taking it gracefully, I sputtered.  “B-b-but
why
?”  He was hard between my thighs, and he’d been damn enthusiastic just moments ago.  He’d been sucking my tongue right up until I’d disengaged.  It didn’t make any
sense
!

He smiled up at me, but it was a pained expression.  He had about a million thoughts flashing behind his eyes, but he didn’t voice a single damn one of them.

Instead of speaking, he lifted me off him, set me to one side, and scrambled to his feet.  I swayed there on my knees, completely bereft, completely friggin’ stunned.

Anger came first.  I shot to my feet.  “What the
hell
?” I demanded.

His hair was disheveled, his lips bruised.  And he was still hard.  But his eyes were shuttered. 

“I can’t.  We shouldn’t,” he rasped.  With me glaring at him, he backed up a step.

“What does that even mean? 
Why
?  Why shouldn’t we?”

He didn’t answer, swallowing heavily instead.  His chest heaved with his breaths.

“Can you please explain it to me, because I truly don’t understand.”

No answer.

I was getting frustrated.  I’d made the commitment, I’d decided to get involved with him despite his secrets, and now… this.

“Are you interested in me,” I asked, “or are you not?  Do you want this,” I said, gesturing between us, “or do you
not
?!  You’re sending me really mixed signals here.  You
started
this!”

Maybe he didn’t trust himself to speak.  Maybe he truly was terrible with women.  All he did was shrug.  It was more an uncomfortable gesture than a casual one, but still.  I was throbbing for him, his eyes were still dark with lust, and he
shrugged
?!

Next came mortification.  I was throwing myself at him—and he wasn’t catching me.

Every time in the past, it’d been me making the first move.  Even the Costco kiss; I’d taunted him into that.  In my yard and above the sink,
I
was the one who kissed
him
.  He’d ultimately pushed me away.

Just like he was now.

Oh, no.
  I must have completely misread him.  He didn’t want this.  He didn’t want me.  He’d
never
wanted me.  He probably still wanted Helly.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I realized Ed wasn’t interested.  His erection was an automatic response to a woman—any woman—feeling him up, pressing herself against him.

He’d just been helping me, and I’d misinterpreted it as more.  I was a charity case.  And a damn fool.

I did what I’d been thinking of doing when he caught me.  I fled.  I scrambled over his bed, slammed through his door, and ran out of his beautiful house.

I heard him calling my name.  He might have told me to wait, but
fuck that
.

I couldn’t believe I’d been such an
idiot
.

Chapter
Thirteen

I
was still in a state of bewilderment as I pulled up to my place.

On the way over, my thoughts had been marching double-time.  One of the thoughts I kept coming back to was that if Ed were a woman, I probably wouldn’t have considered it too very bizarre for him to call a stop when he did.  A woman could say no at any time, whether it was because the man was moving too fast, or she didn’t like something he’d said, or she’d realized she hadn’t shaved her legs, or she’d just… changed her mind.  Women had the right to do it, so shouldn’t men be afforded the same courtesy?

I was thinking maybe,
maybe
I’d overreacted.

My doubts had niggled and grown, and now I was thinking again about my guess that he might be a virgin.  That would explain his hesitation.  Maybe he was saving himself for marriage.  Maybe he’d been about to tell me.

Maybe
I’d been too hasty in running away.

Argh,
I didn’t know!

I looked up to find six boats crowding my little dock. I blinked at them, and then realization dawned: I’d forgotten the Passion Party.  I was a consultant, and hosted a party every couple months for the local ladies on the river.  I did it because it was an opportunity to get together, eat, gab, and laugh in a casual environment—and because orgasms were great for mood and overall health.

I pulled in along the shore and got my boat tied off.

When I opened the front door of my cabin, I found the interior already full of noise and action.  Annie, Nan, Maria, and Shelly were sitting around the table laughing, already having helped themselves to my locally-roasted coffee.  Dotty was sliding something into the oven, and Lane hit grind on the blender.

Now, a normal person, in a normal neighborhood, might have gotten a bit worked up about six people letting themselves into her home, making coffee, and starting dinner.  But we’d had this problem before, where I was held up on a barge trip and got home late.  I’d told them that if it ever happened again, to just come on in and make themselves at home.

“Outta the way, woman.”  Helly’s voice came from behind me, simultaneous with an impatient jab of her elbow.

I stepped aside, and she carried a casserole choked with melted cheese into the kitchen.  I got a whiff of bacon as she swept past.  It smelled divine.

My feet wanted to follow that casserole, but instead, I veered to my stairs and climbed to my bedroom closet.  I pulled out the pink suitcase and lugged it down to the coffee table in my living room.  There, I dumped it out.

Vibrators.  Dildos.  Beads and bullets.  Lotions and candles and lube.

I heard Maria, who’d never been to one of my parties before, gasp.

I smiled at her, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.  Considering I was fun-sized, it was usually pretty easy.  “These parties are always really casual,” I said.  “Come on over, play with things, ask questions if you have them.  I won’t try to sell you anything, because I’m not in it for the money.  Really, I just like to get together and chit-chat.”

“What about the new stuff?” Annie asked, settling in on the couch.  “You said you got some new items.”

“Ah yes.”  I went and dug around in the closet again, and when I got back, everyone had brought their drinks and snacks, and gathered around the sex toys.

Annie hooted as she snatched the big-ass black dong out of my hand.

Smiling, I looked back at Maria.  “We usually start these parties off with a reading from Helly.”

“A reading?” Shelly asked.

Dotty handed me a glass of wine, and held the other out to Helly.

“Helly writes erotica,” I explained, accepting it.

“Oh.”

I grinned and fell onto my couch.

Helly followed suit.  Sitting next to me, she unfolded a sheaf of pages she’d taken from her pocket.  She took a healthy sip of wine, cleared her throat, and began.

“I ran through the woods, my fast breaths ripping my throat.  Something was chasing me, not bear or moose or wolf, but something… else.  It was a feeling I had, a flicker of shadow from the corner of my eye, a sinister chill that nipped at the back of my neck.  Something was after me.”

The women went silent, their eyes on my blonde friend.

“Suddenly, I tripped.  A branch stabbed my palm as I fell to my hands and knees.  My palm was bleeding, but I barely noticed.  I scrabbled forward, feeling the darkness, the ominous cold intensify.”

Dotty had a hand to her throat, transfixed.  Annie’s glass of wine had paused halfway to her mouth.  I thought about stomping my foot to make them all jump, but managed to resist the impulse.

“Suddenly, something grabbed me.  Something cold and hard closed on my ankle, yanking me to a stop.  It was strong, incredibly strong as it threw me over onto my back.  My backpack crushed beneath me as I stared up.  The darkness closed over me, and for the first time, I saw the thing that’d caught me.  White skin.  Blood-red eyes.  Canines, two inches long and razor-sharp.”

“Vampire!” yelped Dotty.

Helly grinned.  “In that moment, I knew I was utterly screwed.  I closed my eyes, hoping I’d wake up from this nightmare.  I felt the rush of cold as it lunged, the tearing pain at my throat.  This was it, I thought.  I was going to die.  I felt the warmth leaching from my body, my life being sucked away.”  Helly paused, letting the anticipation draw out.

“Suddenly, I heard a loud, animal snarl.  There was a rush of air, the weight and terrible coldness lifted off me, and then I heard a crackling of branches off to my left.  Dizzy, I sat up.  I saw two figures fighting on the forest floor.  There was the white-skinned one, moving inhumanly fast, and a second being.  This one had gray fur and was the size of a pony.  A wolf, I realized.  I lay there, stunned, as the two battled.”  Helly sipped her wine.

“Then, the wolf ripped out the other’s throat.  The pale one went still, sprawled across the ground.  The impossibly large lupine stood over the body for a long moment, and then turned its head to look at me.  Golden eyes shone in the light of the full moon.”

“Werewolf!”  Dotty clapped her hands like an excited toddler, and I remembered Helly had loaned her her copy of
Twilight
.  Which Dotty had loved, of course.

“The giant beast turned, and started stalking toward me.  I crab-walked backward.  If anything, my heart raced faster than it had before, stuttering with fear and blood loss.  I’d heard the stories, about hungry wolves eating peoples’ dogs, attacking joggers, leaving nothing of a motorcyclist but his head in his helmet…  This one looked hungry.

“I blinked, and suddenly there was a man, not a beast, standing over me.  He was big, and naked, and bloody.  ‘There are more coming,’ he said.  His voice was deep, and dark, and affected me in a way I didn’t even try to understand.  ‘You need to get on my back.  I’ll carry you to safety.’  I was nearly incoherent with shock by this point.  I may have nodded.  Suddenly the wolf was back.  Sensing somehow that I could trust him, I wrapped my arms around his furry neck, threw a leg over his big back, and held on tight as he started through the woods.  He moved slowly at first, then faster, and faster still.  The forest floor was a blur below us, the trees flickering past.”

I went and got the wine bottle, and topped everyone off as Helly continued.

“Finally, we stopped.  I slid off his back to land in the moss.  I looked up just as he became human again, a big, Highlander-looking man kneeling in the leaves next to me.  Staring up at him, I forgot about my own injuries and, once again, I noticed the blood.  ‘You’re bleeding,’ I said.  I slid my backpack off, looking for my first aid kit.  ‘Here, let me—’  He caught my hand as I reached for him.  ‘No need.  It’s already healing,’ he said.  And sure enough, beneath the blood, the ragged wound under his collarbone was closing, fading as if it had never been.  Also below the blood, I realized, was smooth, tanned, naked skin.  A whole lot of it, stretched over a chest bulging with muscle.  He was gorgeous, I realized.  And so very, very close.”

I grinned, and took a sip of my wine.  I knew just exactly where this was heading.

“He took a deep breath through his nose, and his eyes started to glow.  His eyes as a man weren’t the gold of his wolf.  No, they were green, a bright emerald green offset by a full head of shaggy, pitch-black hair—”

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“What?”  Helly’s impatient blue eyes drilled me to the couch.

“Green eyes and black hair?  Again?” I asked, undaunted.

“Green and black are perfectly serviceable colors—”

“Yeah, Gary’s colors,” Annie said.

Helly glared.

“You’ve given us stories about elves.  Cyborgs.  Cowboys.  Aliens.  Demons and angels and warlocks, and
always
your hero has green eyes and black hair.  Green eyes aren’t actually that common, are
way
overrepresented in fiction, my opinion.  Have you thought about—I dunno—diversifying?” I asked.

“I like blue eyes,” Annie volunteered.

“Or sexy deep, dark, Italian brown,” Dotty said, looking wistful.

“Or hazel,” I said.

Helly made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.  “No.  I like green eyes and black hair, and
I
am the goddess of my story, and
this
is why writing doesn’t happen by democracy.  You can picture the hero any damn way you want—he can be a gray-eyed, hunch-backed, snaggle-toothed ginger, for all I care—but I’m gonna write him with green eyes and black hair.  So.  Do you want to hear this story, or don’t you?”

“Please,” said Dotty.  “Please finish, I wanna know what happens with Werewolf Gary and his damsel in distress.”

“Who’s delirious from blood loss,” I muttered.

Dotty gave me a warning glare.

I shrugged, but shut my yap.

“Please,” Dotty said again, using her best sad-puppy expression on Helly.  All the wrinkles ensured that it was pretty damn good.

“All right then,” Helly grumbled, appearing slightly mollified.  “Where was I?  Oh.

“‘Never mind me.  You’re hurt,’ the big, sexy wolf said.  His expression was concerned, his fingers gentle as they brushed my neck.  He started to lean close.  I flinched back.  ‘Let me heal you,’ he said, his eyes gone dark.  ‘H-heal me?’ I stuttered.”

I grinned at Helly’s falsetto.

“‘Yes,’ said the man, his deep voice patient.  ‘My saliva has healing properties.  I need to lick your wound.’”

“Eeeww,” said Shelly softly, wrinkling her nose.

“‘
Lick
me?’ I asked.  But the man was already leaning close again.  I could feel his body radiating warmth, smell the wildness in him.  My body reacted, heating.  He was so close, I could feel his breath on my neck when he groaned.  I rested my fingertips tentatively on his shoulders, amazed at the breadth of them, the hard muscle.  But he was hesitating.  ‘What is it?’ I whispered.”

Maria was squirming on her seat.

“‘I can smell your arousal,’ he said.  My eyes flew wide, but suddenly his tongue was on my wound.  It should have hurt, logically, I knew that.  But all I felt was pleasure.  Warmth.  Delicious tingles.  His nose brushed my ear, his arms closed around me, and his low, grumbling groan resonated through both of us.

“I moaned, opening my bleary eyes to stare up at the moon through the treetops.  This was crazy—I knew it.  But it was also good, so damn good.  The press of him, the warmth, his mouth on my neck.  Being flush against his strong body satisfied some primitive urge I hadn’t even known I had.  I dragged him closer, and dug my fingers into his hair as his licks turned to gentle suction.  Each draw made me wetter, made me want him more.  He was a naked werewolf, and we were on our knees in the dirt, but I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted a man.”

“Well, that was certainly fast,” I observed.  Ed’s rejection was still stinging.

“
Shhh
ush,” chided Dotty.

Helly reached over and helped me lift my wine glass up to my lips, and tilt it.  I rolled my eyes, but took a healthy sip.

“Please, go on,” Dotty said to Helly.  The white-haired seventy-year-old had picked up a dildo, and was clutching it to her chest.

“He bore me back onto the soft earth.  I suddenly realized I was wearing too many clothes.  I wanted him against me, skin-to-skin.  We ripped at my jacket, my shirt.  He didn’t even unbutton my jeans, just tore them from me.  My panties didn’t stand a chance against his strength.  His face was sharp with desire, his eyes almost all black as he looked at me.  He hovered above me for a long moment, long enough that I started to feel uncertain.  ‘I want to taste you,’ he growled.  I shuddered, for even the sound of his voice made me wet.  And his words…  As he lowered his head, I thought I must be under some sort of spell.  I was hyper-aware of him, every inch of his magnificent body as he bent before me.  His big, strong hands were hot on my thighs, pushing them apart, his shoulders bulging with muscle.  I shivered with anticipation, wanting the heat of his mouth.”

Helly took her sweet time turning to the next page, aware that at last, she had everyone’s absolute attention.  Her mouth twitched into a small smile as she surveyed her audience.  Finally, she bent her gaze back to the text.