Page 4 of Merry with a Captain

“So, we’re gonna go now. Don’t worry, I’ll check in with you all.” She grabbed her bag and took Fletch’s arm.

Before her friends had a chance to protest, cheer, whatever, she whispered to Fletch, “Let’s go, quickly.”

He laughed as they left the bar.

2

It was less than a 10-minute drive to the motel, and neither of them said a word. He wondered why she had suddenly gone quiet; it concerned him, and he wanted to make sure this was what she wanted.

She didn't appear drunk, but he would make sure she wasn't so that she could make a proper choice.

The motel sign blinked in front of them as they rounded the bend in the road. Almost there. He jumped when her hand touched his and took it into a gentle grip. He turned his over and curled his fingers around hers.

"All good? This is what you want?" Fletch glanced at her as he pulled up in front of the little cabin that he'd been assigned.

"Yes. No question." She looked at him, the headlights reflecting off the white wooden siding of the cottage and back into his truck illuminating her face.

He searched her features, not turning the headlights off yet, and he devoured her with his gaze. She smiled and undid her seatbelt.

“This is exactly what I want.” She leaned over the center console and pulled his head down to her.

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her lashes fanned over her skin. He couldn’t resist her slightly-parted lips and met her across the console. They were soft under his, tentatively moving. When her tongue touched his lip, it was his undoing.

Fletch deepened the kiss, her mouth opening wider as he explored hers. Their breath quickened, and when their tongues met, she moaned into his mouth and latched onto him with her arms around his neck.

He didn't want the kiss to end, but this was far too awkward and uncomfortable. They weren't going to do it here. He lifted his mouth from hers.

"Let's go inside." He was out his car door and by hers before she had gathered her purse. When he opened it to help her out, she launched into his arms and this time her kiss was anything but tentative or soft.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, and he wrapped his around her waist, lifting her until they were flush chest to hips.

He was hard, and he didn’t try to hide it. Did she feel his desire for her? Fletch slid his hands under her bottom and carried her across the crushed shell pathway to the door. He had to let go of her to fumble in his pocket for the key so they could get in the room. Cursing to himself, he wished he’d been more prepared. With her back against the door, he found the key and pushed it into the lock. Their combined weight slammed the door open and nearly sent them to the floor.

Fletch swept her into his arms and kicked the door closed, their mouths never parting, her hands pulling at his shirt. The drapes were open to the little deck facing the ocean and the moonlight streamed through the window, casting its beam over the bed.

He let her down, frantic to get rid of their clothes. He'd never been in a situation like this, the kind you saw in movies when acouple rip at each other's clothes as they made their way to the bed. He never had such an urgency for a woman.

“Off, get them off," she whispered against his mouth, pushing against his jeans.

Fletch kicked off his shoes and stood on the hem of his jeans with his heels to pull them down while he busied himself pushing her top off, and then he worked on her jeans. His cock was insistent against his briefs, and when her top was off, he gently ran the back of his fingers up her arms and hooked his pinky fingers underneath the shoulder straps of her bra.

The whole time, he watched Robyn's face. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her head fell back, exposing her neck, and he saw the pulse pounding in her throat. He bent down to kiss her shoulder where the pink bra strap had been only seconds before. He inhaled her scent; exquisite citrus with a hint of spice.

He needed to taste her and ran his tongue from her shoulder, along her collarbone and lower to the rise of her breasts. He flicked the closure of her bra open and it fell away.

This time it was his turn to groan. She was beautiful, just perfection. Her hardened nipples begged to be kissed, and he bent taking one between his lips, suckling on her. Her fingers dug into him, and she let out a small cry as her knees buckled.

He had no trouble holding her, and walked her back to the bed, easing her down until the silvery moonlight cast its glow across her skin. Fletch was unable to draw a breath, he was so captivated by the vision of her before him. He watched her chest rise with every breath. His gaze moved over her body devouring her flawless beauty as if she were carved in alabaster.The only color was her dusky pink nipples and her hair, silvery white, fanned out on the pillow.

Fletch was unable to look away. Even Venus de Milo couldn't hold a candle to this woman. She blinked, breaking him from his trance. The lunar glow caught her eyes, and they shone the mostmagnificent turquoise. Almost translucent and like a window into her soul.

All these thoughts rolling around in his brain were unlike him. He wasn't a poet, but she inspired poetic words.

“Come here." She raised her hand as her eyes flickered to his briefs. "Take them off,” she whispered.

He did. She watched, her tongue swept her lips. Fletch kneeled on the bed, gently pushing her knees apart. She trembled, and her legs quaked when he leaned over to take the lacy waistband of her underwear between his teeth.

Her hips bucked, and he held them while he pulled the panties down. Slowly, until her curls brushed his nose. He inhaled, unable to get enough of her, and continued to remove the lacy garment until she was fully exposed before him. He leaned back, lifting one leg and then the other to remove the underwear and tossed them aside.

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