G-Men: The Series (143 page)

“Yeah, yeah,” I griped. “This afternoon we’re supposed to meet at the pool for swimming and cocktails. What about that?”

“For the love of God, Sammie,” he snapped. “I’m just taking this one minute at a time. You’ve already wasted two of your ten, so get moving.”

I got through breakfast and our stint in the casino with everyone pretty much buying Slate’s excuse. When he didn’t show up for the “Taste of the Orient” luncheon buffet, everyone pretty much had figured out what was going on.

“He’s seasick, isn’t he?” Taz asked with a big grin. “And knowing the dude, he’d rather lay on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet all day instead of calling the ship’s doctor for some meds.” He nodded his head at me, softly chuckling, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Trace,” Lindsey said; a warning tone in her voice.

Taz kept his eyes on me, his smile stretching even further across his face, accessorized with raised eyebrows. “Am I right, Sammie?” he repeated.

“Well, yes—but you didn’t hear it from me,” I replied, sheepishly.

“I knew it,” Taz bellowed. “That is just so fucking
Slate
, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed, trying hard not to roll my eyes, “but not for much longer. I think it’s time I intervened. I’ll see you guys at the pool in about an hour.”

I traipsed back up to our suite and found Slate now curled up in bed, sleeping. This was our first ever vacay and I’d be damned if his stubbornness was going to ruin it. I called down to the ship’s infirmary while he slept. They told me to stop in for some over-the-counter treatments they had available to try first.

When I returned to our suite, Slate was once again in the bathroom. I opened the door, trying my best not to smile as I saw my totally macho G-Man, looking so incredibly pitiful, as he hugged the “porcelain god.” This was so not Slate!

“Slate,” I said, using a very matter-of-fact tone that I generally saved for when I really needed to have my own way. “I bought some non-prescription items at the infirmary that help with seasickness. Here’s a wrist band that’s supposed to do some kind of acupuncture thing that signals your inner ear, and some antihistamine tablets that will make you a bit drowsy, but cure the nausea. I
also
brought some ginger ale and ice for you. I’m going to the pool now, so
you
decide if you intend to spend the rest of our vacay hunched over the commode—which I have to say, is a major turn-off for me, or join the living again.” I made sure to end with a single shoulder shrug, “It’s up to you.”

I turned and left, changing into my new swimsuit and cover-up, grabbing my iPad, sandals, and sunscreen and headed out to the pool off of our deck. Most everyone was already there. I spotted Lindsey on a chaise lounge, reading from her iPad. She looked up when I approached.

“So?” Lindsey asked, as I took the empty chaise beside hers, peeling off my sandals and cover-up. “How’s Slate doing?”

“We’ll soon see,” I replied, spraying my skin with the sunscreen, and massaging it in. “I had to get a bit strict with him. I usually don’t do that.”

“Well, Mom, you didn’t have much choice. I mean, you’d think he wouldn’t be so stubborn about something like that.”

“You’d think,” I agreed, adjusting my sunglasses and reclining back in the chaise.

“Are you going in?” she asked, glancing over to the pool where Easton, Taz, Eli, Cain and Colin were already having relay races.

“Maybe a little later,” I replied, looking around. “Aren’t we missing a couple of the ladies?”

“Oh,” she giggled, “Darcy and Ronnie went for a spa afternoon instead.”

“Why didn’t you go?” I asked, frowning.

“I wanted to hang out with you, Mom,” she replied, with her sweet smile. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Sweetie,” I sighed, “this is your vacation, too. There’s no need for you to feel like you have to babysit me because Slate is being so stubborn.”

“We dock in Samana this evening,” she said. “Maybe you and I can do a little mother-daughter shopping?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said. “Now, you’d make me feel better if you’d join Darcy and Ronnie for a spa afternoon, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she agreed, happily, jumping up and giving me a peck on the cheek. “See you this evening.”

I’d just settled back after reading a couple of chapters of my steamy novel on my iPad, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of the sun caress my skin, when I heard someone take the empty chaise next to me.

“Excuse me, babe,” Slate’s voice drifted over. “Can I bother you for some sunscreen?”

My eyes flew open and I looked over at him sitting back in the chaise next to me. He was in his swimming trunks, his muscles bulging the way that I loved. I noticed he was wearing the green wristband I’d bought for him. He was still a bit pale, but I knew the sun would take care of that in a short time.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted, a sheepish grin taking over. “I don’t know how you manage putting up with my shit sometimes, Sammie. You were right in doing what you did. I’m sorry I was so fucking stubborn, babe. Am I forgiven?”

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

A lesson in patience.

^{chapter 3}

On the third day of vacay…

~ Taz ~

I rolled out of bed, letting Lindsey sleep while I went in and showered.

I’d gotten a little too much sun at the pool yesterday afternoon while Lindsey spent three hours being pampered at the spa with Darcy and Ronnie. She hadn’t shown much empathy for me when she returned later to our suite, changing her clothes and grabbing comfortable shoes for her shopping trip in town with her mother.

She barely acknowledged my reddened back and shoulders, telling me to put some aloe on it and to quit whining, reminding me that I was old enough to know how to properly apply sunscreen.

Yeah, nice, huh?

I’d pouted for the rest of the evening, showing little interest when she returned later, showing me what she’d purchased in town for Harper and Jackson. She’d bought matching T-shirts for us, wanting me to try mine on.

“I will, darlin’,” I said. “Just as soon as my fucking back doesn’t feel like it’s on fire, okay?”

“Taz,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at me. “Sometimes I think men are the biggest babies on earth. First it was Slate with his motion sickness or whatever, and now you’re making a major fuss about being a little sunburned. Seriously?”

“Excuse me,” I replied, testily. “Maybe if you hadn’t spent all afternoon being
pampered
at that fucking spa, I wouldn’t have spent so much
time
in the fucking sun. I mean, what the hell?”

“So, now it’s
my
fault?” she asked, her eyes bugging out like they always did when she was pissed.

Our little spat had been interrupted when Darcy, Ronnie, and Eli came banging on our door, letting Lindsey know there was karaoke going on in the lounge on the Fiesta Deck. She had bounced up off the bed, asking me if I wanted to come along with them.

“I don’t think so,” I snapped, chafed at her obvious disregard for my pain and discomfort. “I’ll just stay in here and wait for the pain to subside,” I replied.

“Okay then,” she said. “I won’t be too late, babe.”

With that, she’d skittered off to enjoy drinking, dancing and karaoke with the others. Fuck me.

Slate had stopped by to drink a few beers with me, making fun of my ‘delicate condition’ until I reminded him of his puke-fest and told him to shut the fuck up.

By the time Lindsey had stumbled in, well after midnight, and obviously tipsy from her evening at the lounge, I was feigning sleep and blessedly out of pain for the moment.

My shower felt good, the cold water washing over my skin without it feeling painful any longer. I lathered myself up, feeling invigorated and ready for some hot make-up sex with my baby girl. The great thing about Lindsey and me was that we never stayed pissed at one another for very long.

I planned on crawling beneath the sheets with her, and waking her up with soft, butterfly kisses all over her neck and shoulders. Then I’d trace my tongue around the outside of her ear, gently nipping at her lobes the way she loved. I would continue with my exploration, making sure to stop at her breasts, her bellybutton, and then move leisurely south to where her pussy would already be wet for me. She loved how my tongue washed over her clit, and my lips and teeth teased and nipped at the folds of her sweetness, bringing soft moans of pleasure from her lips.

My cock was already standing at attention with what my mind was picturing. I’d probably want to fuck her from behind. No sense in irritating my back any further until it was completely healed of the sunburn. Besides, Lindsey loved that particular position for getting off.

I patted myself dry and headed back out to the bedroom, where my sleeping angel was stirring just a bit.

I could see movement under the sheets. Her hands were vigorously moving around her crotch area; a moan escaped her lips, and then another.

Holy shit! Did she start without me?

“Hey baby,” I cooed to her, my weight dipping down on the bed next to her. “Did you get started without me?”

“Oh, God. Taz!” I watched as she sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet back to expose her legs, raising her skimpy silk nightgown up and over her head, tossing it to the floor.

Hot damn!

I mistook her eagerness for horniness, and leaned in to capture her lips with mine, as my hand fondled a breast.

“Taz, no,” she snapped, pushing away from me. “Oh my God, what the hell is this?”

She was looking down at her upper thighs and then quickly twisted around, raising her hips up to examine her ass.

What the fuck?

Her ass was covered with red prickly welts that looked like some sort of major breakout of hives. Her upper thighs matched, and I noticed that, whatever it was, had spread to her pubic area. Her fingernails were busy scratching the apparent itch that had developed as a result.

“Shit,” I said. “What the hell is that?”

“How the hell should I know?” she snapped, trying to get out of bed. “I was fine when I went to bed. The itching just woke me up.”

“Come on, baby girl,” I quickly grabbed her hand, “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“I can’t go naked, Taz,” she whined. “Will you please get a sundress from the closet? Oh, and my flip-flops, too?”

I obliged; helping her get a pair of panties pulled up and zipping up her dress in the back. I was even kind enough not to snicker when I observed the way she was walking with her legs apart, so that her thighs didn’t rub against one another…very stiff and very robotic. Kind of reminded me of how Frankenstein walked in those old movies, except that her arms weren’t outstretched—yet. One could only hope. Yeah, I know that was pretty fucked-up, wasn’t it?