Jacquie D’Alessandro - Jinxed!

So stop thinking, she told herself.

Warm, good…Her mouth lingered against his, her breasts skimming his chest, beading the tips of them with tight yearning.

She pulled away slightly, keeping hold of his shirt. Finally, cathartically, she told him about the world’s longest engagement with William and how it’d chipped away at her, year after year; how it’d made her doubt that she had it in her to ever try again, especially if failure meant another spirit-crushing breakup.

“I never want to be that hopeless woman again.” She let go of his shirt but kept her hand on his chest. “So when you asked me out, I was looking forward to the freedom of being with a guy who didn’t expect anything from me but all the easy stuff: the sex and laughter. And, most importantly, I didn’t have to expect anything from you, only to be disappointed when I didn’t get it.”

A relieved breath escaped Wes, and he shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind Erin’s ear. She leaned into his touch, craving more, startled to find she was unafraid to accept it.

“And here I was thinking it was about me,” he said. “I thought that you felt I wasn’t good enough.”

“It’s not that you weren’t ‘good enough.’ You were what I thought I needed. But what you really were scared the dickens out of me so I tried not to deal with that side of you.”

“So…” He swallowed. “It turns out that you made this curse, Erin. You and your psychological obstacle course.”

Whoa. She braced herself to withstand a flood of terror at this realization, but it never came. No, there was only a rise of soft heat consuming her from the toes upward, covering her skin, engulfing her.

“ I was using the curse to keep myself from having to make any decisions about you…?” It made sense now: at first the curse had been built on coincidences, such as the emergency drill. And she’d been all too willing to embrace it, giving it new life from there, starting with her so-called seasickness.

He began guiding her into the corridor, where the early-morning quiet still hovered.

It didn’t take a genius to guess where he was taking her. But what if he was wrong? What if the curse wasn’t just her creation? What if-?

“Damn the curse,” he said, as if reading her mind. “It was nothing. Even if a tsunami turns this ship over, you’re mine.”

His determination shot a thrill through every extremity, tingling her skin as he shut their door behind them.

Before she could catch her next breath, he’d pressed her against the door, his penis already hard against her belly. Her insides went squiggly, and she latched her mouth to his, seeking to share the pleasure.

They devoured each other, desperate and hungry, tongues tangling as her skin flushed with wet heat. She tried to yank off his shirt; he tried to undo her jeans. Her head hit the wall, but she didn’t feel any pain, just adrenaline-fueled, deep-seeded delight.

Moment by beating moment, that delight melted down, over her flesh, into her belly, like the thaw of ice cream on a sweltering day.

Hadn’t the fortune-teller said that going with the flow would correct any warped karma? Was that happening now that she’d opened up?

Yes! Hallelujah-

That’s when the intercom sounded for an announcement.

AT THE INTERRUPTION, ERIN started banging her head against the wall.

“ Hell, no,” Wes said as the purser began to ramble over the intercom.

But the moment he heard the phrase “shipboard games,” he carried on. Screw the curse-it was crap.

He lifted Erin up, and she squealed in surprise. It obviously turned her on, too, because she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him senseless.

Blood chopping and all systems “go,” he spun her toward the bed. But in their passion, he didn’t know his own strength, accidentally knocking her against the vanity counter. Her cosmetics went clanging off the surface, yet it didn’t matter as he set her down there, her legs wrapping around him and drawing his cock against the warm center of her.

Hot. Dammit, he could feel how much she wanted him, even through their clothes. His growing erection ticked against her as they grinded, kissed, lapped each other up in long, slow, demanding thrusts and sucks.

He was so starved for her that his penis was already wet at the tip. In reaction, he tugged off her sweatshirt, tossing it away. Then her bra. Her sneakers and pants.

All the while she panted, watching him with a smile.

Not just sex, he thought, gaze caressing her full breasts, her tiny waist, her white lace panties. This was going to be more than just physical. And the fact that he hungered for that excited him to amazing heights.

He shucked off his own clothes, leaving himself bare to her. More bare than with any other woman in his experience.

As she ran a gaze over his body, there was more than lust to her look. A profound craving-that’s what it was. An invitation to make her happy beyond just this, and he could give that to her. She made him believe it.

On a groan, he moved forward, dipping his fingers down the front of her panties. As he skimmed over her curls, down between the slick folds of her sex, she purred, shifting with satisfaction. It goaded him, sending a violent throb through his cock, making it go stiff.

He whispered in her ear, breath stirring her blond hair. “You’re so pretty down here…pretty everywhere.”

She mumbled something unintelligible into his neck, biting it. He flinched with the tickle-harsh contact, then smoothed two fingers inside of her. Circling, stirring, he worked her until she arched against his palm, her own hands bracing herself on the counter.

He found her face flushed pink, dewed with new sweat as she closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her intensity turned him on even more; it slivered his heart, making him feel wildly possessive for the first time in his life.

Ripping off her panties, he got to his knees, pulling her forward and adjusting her legs around his shoulders.

“Oh-” Her eyes shifted to gray for just an instant but then she relaxed, smiling again. The color turned silver, etched with encouragement.

He spread her open with his fingers. Damp blond curls surrounding pretty pink, just as he’d said. Voracious, he licked upward, reaching her clit. There, he laved, then spun his tongue around as if making cotton candy.

She dug her fingers into his hair, pressing, urging. He took one of her lips into his mouth, then angled his head to the side, kissing her, seeking entrance with his tongue. In, out, around…

Rocking against him, she groaned, becoming drenched. But just as she seemed about to fall over the edge, he sucked her other lip into his mouth, slowly drawing back at the same time until it slurped out-his own favorite candy to enjoy.

“Wes-”

Without pause, he rose up, sliding his hands up her hips, her waist and then to her breasts. Her distended nipples were dark and ripe: cherry decadence. Taking the fullness of them into his palms, he weighed their heft, eased his thumbs over their centers, then took one into his mouth to gnaw gently at it.

This time her cry was strangled. He guessed she was ultrasensitive there, so he doubled her delight by trailing his fingers down her belly, brushing over the soft skin, the hint of pubic curls.

Low sounds, like impatient winces, came from her throat. He laved her other breast, slipping his hands between her thighs again, working her clit until she scratched at his back.

“Now,” she insisted. “Do it now.”

His cock pounded, making it almost impossible for him to fumble out a condom from the vanity counter where he’d stuffed a string of packets earlier. He managed to sheath himself.