Distracted √

Distracted: Chapter Twelve

After rousing Erin in pre-dawn light, Spence weighed anchor and sailed close-hauled to Key West. He radioed ahead for a slip in the historic marina and by late afternoon they closed the hatches and locked the saloon door for a trip to town.

Ashore, they ate at a small Cuban restaurant, washing down the spicy food with bottles of icy beer. Erin kept the conversation light and impersonal.

"So, you've lived in North Carolina all your life?"

Spence leaned back in the bamboo chair, his eyes resting on the harbor. Sailboats were milling about, ferrying tourists on the daily sunset cruises.

"Mostly," he said. "I've been a few other places but North Carolina's home."

"Will you live there from now on?"

Spence took the fork out of her hand and turned it over, tracing her palm with one large finger. "That's the plan."

She closed her hand, making a fist. Spence laughed.

"Relax, babe." At her frown he added, "I mean, Erin."

They talked and laughed and drank too much beer. Erin was giddy with excitement and she couldn't stop blushing. Instead of returning to the boat, Spence had checked them into the adjoining hotel. Soon they were standing outside her room. Erin leaned against the wall as he unlocked the door. He bent to kiss her and she lifted her face in anticipation. Hungry, he sought her neck and throat. Encircling his waist with her arms, she whispered, "Where's your room?"

"Here," he said as door open. He swept her into his arms and, keeping his mouth fastened on hers, kicked the door shut behind them.

The mattress dipped as he laid her gently on the bed. His hands glided over her belly, pushing her T-shirt aside.

"Spence," she whispered.

"Erin," he countered huskily.

"We shouldn't be here."

"Where would you rather be?"

"That's not what I mean."

Spence rolled onto his back, pulling her on top. His hands worked deftly sliding her shirt up and over her head. Rosy nipples hung before his eyes, tantalizing and lush. He asked, "You're a logical woman, aren't you, Erin?"

"Yes," she moaned as his tongue sparred with her breast, brushing lightly across the tense nipple.

"How do you explain the fact that you're here, soon to be naked and in my bed?" He suckled while his fingers pushed her shorts from the small of her back, over her hips and down her legs.

He didn't understand her distress. She felt guilty because she'd been hired to help him. Instead, she skipped aboard his boat, lounged around in a skimpy bathing suit, flirted outrageously and danced provocatively with him. Every day since she had met him, she made it clear she desired him. How could she blame him for wanting her? How could she refuse what he offered?

Instead of pulling away, she settled closer to him, a thin wisp of silk separating her from his low-slung khakis. She rubbed gently against his zipper, moaning softly as the cold, sharp steel bit into her sensitive skin. "You kidnapped me," she whispered as the last of her resistance melted away. "Just like the pirates on Tortuga."

He slid a hand between them, sliding down his zipper. He pulled himself free and rubbed against her. "You want your freedom?"

"No." She gasped at the sensation, unable to stop from squirming. His hand traced small slick circles that she found irresistible.

He moaned softly as she angled herself, capturing his teasing hand with hers and wrapping her fingers around him.

She couldn't keep her hands off of him, couldn't keep her tongue in her mouth. She loved the taste of his skin, had wondered about it for days.

"Why shouldn't we be here?" He shifted his hips and she groaned with pleasure, with torment.

She had no response other than to tug and pull at his clothes until they were in a pile on the floor. Erin wrapped her arms around his neck, her mouth fused to his as he slid inside. Only her panties separated them, and when she touched the waistband to push them down, Spence captured her fingers, loathing the thought of moving apart.

"No; I like them on," he said, rubbing against the silk fabric as he slid in and out. He laughed and splayed his hands across her bottom, first cupping her towards him then lifting her up as his strokes lengthened.

Erin arched her back, seeking that electric sensation. Her breathing grew fast and shallow, and she wanted him to move faster. Instead, Spence captured her hips, pacing her frenzied movements. "Slow down, baby. Not yet," he whispered, his mouth once again fastening on her breast.

Her head sagged as she struggled to separate pleasure and torture. She wanted desperately to move with him, but her body insisted on its own rhythm. Beads of perspiration formed on her upper lip as she concentrated on that sweet, deep tug. Her climax took her by surprise, beginning as a slow, rippling wave. She whimpered at the dizzying force then froze, wanting to hold onto the sweet sensation. She could feel herself flexing and grasping Spence who, with a guttural cry of pleasure, crushed her hips into his. Convulsions wracked his body.

Exhausted, Erin sank, placing her fevered cheek against his chest. She heard his heart thunder, felt his arms tremble as they wrapped around her and she gloated at her power. She snuggled into him, her possessive arm draped across his waist. She yawned and within moments, lethargy won and she slept.

Spence caressed her in the moonlight. Her blonde hair fell beneath her shoulders, curling over one breast. Her dark eyebrows arched over heavy-lidded eyes that he thought may be closer to emerald than ordinary green. Her nose was straight and small; her lips were soft and curved. Their lovemaking had removed her lipstick, but passion had reddened them and his kisses had left them swollen. He continued his survey, down her neck to the tiny gold chain with a small key charm. He smiled as he recalled her reluctance when he bought it on a whim from a Duval Street art gallery. He insisted she wear it knowing that evening it would be the only thing touching her skin -- besides him and the bed sheets.

Her dusky-tipped breasts rose with each breath and his hands ached to touch them. He licked his lips, remembering their fullness and her urgent demands that he suck harder.

She pulled on a sheet after their lovemaking, and it rested on her rounded hip. Her legs, invisible beneath the blanket, were long and tapered. During the past week, she had developed a golden glow, despite copious amounts of sunscreen.

She is so beautiful, he thought as he drifted to sleep.

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