Ollie leads me into the galley, kissing me as he guides me across it until I’m against the island counter. He lifts me onto the countertop and steps between my legs. My dress is hiked up so that the backs of my thighs are exposed to the cool granite, but Ollie’s hands chase away the chill as they slide up my skin beneath my skirt.
Impatient, I release my arms from around his neck. My hands roam along the collar of his shirt until they find the buttons. I try to slip them free, but my fingers are clumsy. I’m distracted by the sheerpleasure of kissing him like this—with total abandon, without the pretense of it meaning nothing.
I’m halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when one of Ollie’s hands darts over mine. “Slow down, kitten,” he says. “I’m taking my time with you tonight.”
He hooks his arms under my legs and lifts me from the counter, starting in the direction of the staircase that leads belowdeck.
“The master suite, doofus,” I say, breaking off midkiss. “Why would I sleep with you in a bunk bed when we have the entire boat to ourselves? Fresh sheets. No guests. No crew. Except Xav. But he’s probably passed out in his quarters with the TV still on, so that doesn’t count.”
Ollie spins in the direction of the guest quarters with enthusiasm. I laugh wildly as he carries me down the hallway, but Ollie shuts me up when he pins me against the wall for a lingering kiss that works its way down my neck.
By the time Ollie’s mouth seeks mine again, I can’t take it anymore. I press my hands over my mouth until he sets me on my feet. His laugh echoes after me when I drag him the rest of the way to the master suite.
I step inside and pull Ollie in after me. He shuts the door behind him, and there’s a pause as we face each other in the dim light. It isn’t hesitation. Not the usualShould we really be doing this?This is different. Another one of those weightless moments. One that ends when we reach for each other at the same time.
Ollie’s hands find me again, so warm I practically melt into his lap when he backs across the room and sinks onto the bed.
“This thing is fecking comfy,” Ollie mutters. “If I’d have known this was happening, I would’ve gotten us a nice room somewhere, you know.”
“This is perfect,” I say. I sink my fingers into his hair. “I am sobeyond gone right now, I probably would’ve slept with you in that bunk bed. I’d maybe even sleep with you in a yurt.” I take his face in my hands and rest my forehead against his. “Just so you’re aware, I doubt I’ll become less ridiculous with age.”
Ollie pulls back to look into my eyes. “Does that mean you plan on being with me until you’re old and ridiculous? I know you said... what you said, but I didn’t ask if that means you want to make things between us... real. If you don’t want to really be together—”
I clap a hand over his mouth. “Ollie, I love you. I want to be together. For real. Tonight, tomorrow, twenty years from now. But especially tonight, so will you please get your face on my face? And your clothes somewhere else?”
Ollie’s laugh warms my palm. He pulls my hand from his mouth and leans back on the bed, pulling me along so that I’m hovering above him.
“What?” I say as he stares up at me.
He brushes my bangs to the side. “How fast are you aging? Because you get more ridiculous by the second.”
I scowl, and he adds, “I never said it was a bad thing. I like you ridiculous.”
He presses himself up to kiss me. When he pulls back, he has a mischievous look on his face.
“What?” But then he’s tickling my sides, and I can’t say anything more because I’m laughing so hard I can hardly breathe.
“What’s wrong with you!” I wheeze.
I yelp when he rolls us over on the bed, and I’m suddenly beneath him. “Absolutely nothing,” he says.
He presses a kiss to my forehead before dropping beside me on the mattress, then props himself up on an elbow and stares at me.
I turn on my side to face him, but he doesn’t say anything. “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying the view, what else?” he says.
I should’ve known Ollie wasn’t kidding about taking his time. “What view? I’m still fully dressed.” I trace a finger over his collar bone, then down to the center of his chest. “And you’ve still got your shirt on.”
“You don’t think I’m pretty like this?” He flutters his eyelashes at me.
I roll my eyes. “You’re utterly delightful.”
“Well,” Ollie says, and his expression becomes serious. “Clothed or not, you’re a spectacular view.”
“You’re a spectacular view too,” I say. I can’t be sarcastic when he’s looking at me like that. I have no idea how I managed to go so long without telling him how I feel, when the love I have for him is so overwhelming, I’m not sure it fits inside me. Not anymore, anyway. It feels like uncorking a bottle of champagne after shaking it as hard as I can. Big and messy, yes, but also bubbly and wonderful.
But I’d also really like to finish unbuttoning his shirt and resume the kissing. “Now that we’ve established how lovely we both are, will you stop looking at me and start kissing me again?” I say.
