Page 37 of Ship Happens

ETHAN

UNEXPECTED STORMS

Iwake up before my alarm, sunlight streaming through the balcony curtains I forgot to close. The gentle rock of the ship and the lingering scent of Harper’s perfume on the pillow beside me create a moment of perfect contentment.

Last night was unexpected. After our wine on the balcony, conversation had flowed, the tension between us transforming from antagonistic to something more. When an evening rainstorm forced us inside, Harper accepted my invitation to continue our discussion in my suite.

One bottle of wine became two. Sustainable agriculture gave way to childhood memories. Professional debate softened into personal connection. And somehow, as the storm passed and stars reappeared, Harper Bennett ended up in my bed for the second time in twenty-four hours.

Only this time, there was no pretense of “just for tonight.” This time, when I kissed her, she kissed me back with a certainty that made my heart race faster than any business negotiation ever has.

I roll over, expecting to find her still asleep beside me, but her side of the bed is empty, sheets cool to the touch. My disappointment fades when I spot a note on the pillow, written in Harper’s precise handwriting:

Early meeting with the ship’s environmental officer. Last night was... worth repeating.

I smile at the clinical understatement. “Worth repeating” doesn’t begin to capture what happened between us—the way she’d whispered my name as I moved inside her, her hands mapping my body, the look in her eyes when she came apart beneath me.

The sound of water running in the bathroom interrupts my thoughts. I’d assumed Harper had returned to her own suite, but apparently, she’s still here. I stretch, enjoying the lingering muscle soreness that comes from a night well spent, then get up to join her.

The bathroom door isn’t closed. Through the gap, I can see Harper in the glass-walled shower, water cascading over her naked body as she rinses shampoo from her hair. For a moment, I appreciate the view—the elegant curve of her spine, the subtle muscle definition in her shoulders, the freckles scattered across her lower back that I discovered last night.

I push the door open, and her eyes find mine in the steamy mirror. Instead of surprise or embarrassment, her lips curve in a slow smile.

“Good morning,” she says, voice raised over the running water. “I hope you don’t mind. I have an 8 am meeting and needed to freshen up.”

“I don’t mind.” I approach the shower door. “Though I’m offended you didn’t wake me.”

“You looked peaceful.” She rinses the last of the shampoo from her hair. “Besides, this meeting is important for my work.”

“More important than morning sex?” I tease, opening the shower door and stepping in behind her.

She turns to face me. “That’s why I set my alarm early.”

Her hands slide up my chest as I back her against the tile wall, capturing her mouth in a kiss that becomes heated. The hot water flows over us as my hands explore her wet skin, relearning the curves I’d memorized in the darkness.

“So efficient, Dr. Bennett,” I murmur against her neck. “Multitasking shower and seduction.”

“Time management is—” She gasps as my fingers find the sensitive spot between her thighs. “—a valuable skill.”

“I agree.” I drop to my knees, hooking her leg over my shoulder. “Let me show you how I multitask.”

Her breath hitches as my mouth replaces my fingers. I look up to see her watching me, lips parted, pupils dilated. The vulnerability in her expression makes me want to bring her pleasure.

“Ethan,” she whispers, her hand tangling in my wet hair. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.” I punctuate the statement by doubling my efforts, using everything I learned about her body last night to push her toward the edge.

She comes with her hand pressed against her mouth to muffle her scream, her body trembling against me. I steady her with my hands on her hips, placing gentle kisses on her inner thighs as she recovers.

When I stand, she pulls me into a deep kiss, unconcerned that she can taste herself on my lips. Her hand slides between us to wrap around my cock.

“Your turn,” she says.

“We don’t have time,” I protest halfheartedly as her thumb circles the sensitive tip. “Your meeting...”

“I’m sure they’ll wait.” She drops to her knees in a graceful reversal of our positions. “Not like they can leave, we’re on a ship.”

Her mouth is warm and perfect around me, as she slides up and down my shaft. I brace myself against the shower wall, looking down at the surreal sight of Harper Bennett on her knees before me, her auburn hair darkened by water, her eyes watching my reaction with interest as she dismantles my self-control with nothing but her sinful mouth.

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