G-Men: The Series (142 page)

She’d fallen asleep against me, since it was only a little after six in the morning.

“Wake-up, wife,” I whispered against her hair. “Time for us to board.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she gave me a sleepy yawn. “I’m going right to bed when I get to our suite, Easton. Will you wake me up when the ship gets ready to set sail? We’re all going to have a champagne toast.” Even when she was sleepy, there was mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Of course, princess,” I teased. “No worries, I’ll see to your luggage as well.”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Are you poking fun at me, Easton?”

“Oh, not at all, darling,” I replied, giving her an overly-exuberant smile as I helped her out of the limo. When she turned away after grinning back at me, I gave myself the luxury of rolling my eyes. Only a little. Because God save the Queen if Darcy happened to catch me.

I noticed the other four limos pulling up right behind ours with the rest of our entourage. I motioned for another steward to come over, handing him our tickets and requesting that he escort Darcy to our quarters, whilst I made sure our luggage was tagged and handled without incident.

“See you in a bit,” I said, giving Darcy a kiss. “I’m going to stay here and make sure our guests get properly checked in without delay.”

“‘Kay, Easton. Love you,” she murmured, following the steward up to the walkway. I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at that divine backside of hers, knowing mischievously what underwear she had chosen to wear for the day.

True to my promise to Darcy, I awakened her about thirty minutes prior to the ship’s setting sail. I figured she most likely had a special outfit planned for the event that she wanted to wear.

Everything had been delivered to our suite and I had already changed into some casual cruise-wear that Darcy had gifted me for Christmas.

“Easton,” she breathed, rubbing her eyes, “you look gorgeous in that shirt. I knew you would,” she beamed, proudly. “I have a shift dress that matches the print exactly.”

Do tell?

I watched as she scurried over to the dressing room, and tore into a suitcase, pulling out a summery lightweight slip of a dress that indeed matched my short-sleeved, collared, button-up shirt.

“Ta da,” she said, whipping it up in the air. “I’ll just be a sec, Easy-E.” She tossed me a sly wink.

She returned in a few moments, having changed into the shift, her hair pulled up into a ponytail. “One more thing,” she said digging around in the trunk, and finding a pair of heeled sandals. She slipped them on, and pulled a matching shoulder bag out. I watched as she dumped the contents of the bag she’d carried on into the new one.

“Here,” she said, handing me a pair of sunglasses that had spilled out of her bag. “I have matching Ray Bans for us, too.”

“You think of everything, love,” I replied, smiling. (Mentally giving an eye roll, this time.)

“Grab the champagne, Easton,” she directed. “Eli has the flutes on deck. Let’s do it.”

Oh, wife. By all means, make as many of those cute demands as you want for now. Because I’ll be making some later. And rest assured, they will not be ‘cute.’

We quickly found the rest of our party on the deck closest to our suites. Everyone was given a flute and the champagne flowed freely as the Sailbourne Legend set sail with throngs of people waving from the docks.

I couldn’t help noticing, as I looked around at our entourage, that each couple was dressed comparably. The men were wearing shirts similar to mine, and their ladies were wearing dresses that were very similar in style to Darcy’s that matched each shirt.

I caught Colin’s eye as he held up his flute for a “Bon Voyage” toast to the group, smirking quietly as I took in the loud, flowery pattern of his shirt. His middle finger stood erect as he nodded my way, downing his flute full of champagne in one swallow. I could feel my lips twitching at my old friend’s rebellious moment.

The party continued with several bottles of champagne being consumed until the coastline disappeared from the horizon. We all agreed to meet for dinner after we unpacked and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. I had plans of my own with my sexy little wife. The motion of the ocean would lend itself well for what I had in mind.

Once we reached our suite, I pulled Darcy up against me, wrapping my arms around her.

“This was a splendid idea,” I murmured, my fingers caressing her ponytail playfully. “You’ve planned everything perfectly. Is there room in your schedule for some naughty play?” I asked. I heard her telling hard intake of breath and felt her nod her head against me.

“Come then,” I whispered, taking her by the hand and pulling her over to the large bed. I undressed her slowly, drinking in her beauty as each bit of her was uncovered. She stood naked before me, watching quietly as I discarded my clothing as well.

We stood naked before each other. I pulled her against me, fisting her ponytail so that her face was tilted backward, waiting to receive my lips. It was then I noticed her eyes had teared up.

“What is it, babe?” I questioned softly, my fingers tracing a tear as it spilled over.

“Oh Easton,” she sobbed, “I miss Weston. How could we have left him like that?”

“What?”

I mean, fucking WHAT???

She rested her head against my now very-naked chest. “What if he forgets us? What if he gets sick while we’re off enjoying ourselves hundreds of miles away?”

By this time, she was fairly inconsolable. There I stood, naked, horny and totally ill-equipped to handle her unexpected emotional outburst.

“Darcy,” I said, sitting down on the bed, and pulling her down beside me. “You know that he’s in good hands with your parents. It’s only for twelve days, love. What was all that talk about needing time apart from him—and that it was good for all concerned?”

“That was
me
justifying it to
myself
,” she wailed, now full-blown crying. “Don’t you know
anything
about me yet?”

I stared at her blankly. I
was
clueless, apparently. My only point of reference being my own childhood, and my mother certainly had no reservations about leaving me for weeks at a time. Blessedly, my Darcy was not like my mother in any way. She loved Weston and was totally dedicated to mothering him properly.

“Easton,” she said quietly, “I don’t feel like leaving our suite tonight. Would you please let the others know we’ll be staying in? I need to come to terms with what
we’ve
done,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m going back to bed to sleep for a while. At least then, I don’t have to deal with the reality of how
we
deserted
our
b-a-a-by!” she wailed.

Bloody Christ! She’s pulling me right down with her as far as responsibility for this!

“Certainly darling,” I replied, trying to insert a patient tone in my verbal response, once again rolling my eyes so that she couldn’t see. I leaned over to grab my boxers off of the floor, so that I could shrug them back on. I was mentally commanding my hard-on to show me some mercy, for the love of Christ.

On the first day of vacay my true love gave to me:

Blue Balls!

^{chapter 2}

On the second day of vacay…

~ Sammie ~

I awoke with a start and realized that Slate wasn’t in bed with me. I stretched lazily, naked beneath the covers, recalling the events of last night.

We’d all enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the Captain’s table. The gourmet food was beyond…gourmet. It was exquisitely prepared and presented. Easton and Darcy hadn’t joined the rest of us. Apparently Darcy was experiencing her first bout of guilt-driven, baby abandonment syndrome. She’d probably be okay in a day or so. Every mother goes through it at least once or twice.

I was perfectly content with being away from the boys. Slate and I hadn’t done this—well, ever! It was about damn time my man and I enjoyed some vacay time—alone.

After dinner, we had strolled hand-in-hand along the deck, enjoying the music that had drifted outside from the ballroom to the star-studded night sky. Slate had pulled me to him, telling me how much he loved me and how much he wanted to fuck me all night long.

That was all it had taken for us to haul ass back to our beautiful suite and dive naked into the gigantic bed for a night of gentle love-making and raucous play all in one. I had no guilt whatsoever. I wanted more.

Just then, I realized what had startled me awake when I heard the thunderous sound of heaving coming from the bathroom.

Holy shit!

I pulled the covers back and grabbed my silk robe from the chair, pulling it on as I went through the dressing area to the bathroom.

“Slate?” I said, opening the door.

“For the love of God, don’t come in here, Sammie,” he rasped, as he was bent over the commode. “I don’t want you to fucking see me like this.”

“Baby—what can I do?” I asked. “Is it food poisoning?” I suddenly wondered if that was the case. If so, I was pretty sure I’d be joining him fairly soon.

He didn’t answer right away as another round of retching came over him.

“No,” he groaned. “I’m fucking seasick, I think.”

“Do you want me to send for the ship’s doctor?”

“Hell no,” he growled, his breathlessness taking a bit of the bite out of it. “I don’t want anything but to be left alone here, alright? And I’m not leavin’ this room, so if you need to use the toilet, you better go on next door to Lindsey’s.”

“Slate,” I said, firmly, “I’m not leaving you like this all day. There’s medication for this. I’m pretty sure that it works fairly quickly.”

He looked up at me from the toilet, looking totally and utterly miserable; his skin had an almost green hue to it.

“Samantha,” he said, “I will kick this on my own, got it? Now, please, just go about your business until I feel better, okay?” He left zero room for argument.

Whatever.

It pissed me off that he had to be so macho, even when it came to things like this. Good God! Why not take a pill and feel better? But
Oh no—
not Slate. He was bound and determined to tough it out, no matter what. If he wanted to spoil his vacay, that was on him.

“Listen,” I said, “I need ten minutes in the bathroom and then I’m going down to the breakfast buffet. Do you think maybe you could perch yourself in front of a trash can in order for me to get my ten minutes?”

“Whatever, Sammie,” he growled, flushing the commode. He stood up, and went to the sink, splashing cold water onto his face and rinsing his mouth out. “And no need to broadcast to everyone I’m under the weather, okay?”

“No problem, babe,” I answered curtly. “But we were all supposed to meet at the casino after breakfast, remember? So, what exactly do you want me to tell everyone else?”

“I don’t care,” he replied rubbing his eyes. “Tell them I’m into a good book or that I’m sleeping late because I was up late fucking you good. I just don’t need them giving me shit about being seasick.” The last statement was spoken as a grumble.