Page 106 of Away We Go

“Captain Alex proposed we cruise towards St Tropez, stopping along the way at some of the little towns along the Rivera.”

It all sounds so fanciful, like something out of a movie, and I pinch my thigh under the table to make sure I’m awake and not in some elaborate dream where all my wishes come true.

“That sounds amazing.”

Nicky’s grin is wide and joyful. “Great. How about we have some breakfast and then we can drop anchor and go for a swim?”

I can only nod in response, because what he’s just described? Spending a day cruising on a yacht and kissing him whenever I want? It really is a dream come true.

• • • • •

For the next week, every day is almost a rinse and repeat of the first. Nicky and I share breakfast together on the top deck, followed by a warm ocean swim wherever the captain can find a place to drop anchor. We spend some afternoons docking at various ports along the way, exploring the most stunning towns and villages, sampling the local food and lying on the uncomfortable pebbled beaches. On the days we don’t go into port, we spend that time lounging in the sun, soaking up the serenity and the rays with a refreshing ocean breeze keeping us comfortable. And in the evenings, we experienceall the wonders our chef offers, our tastebuds delighting in fresh seafood and perfectly crafted French cuisine.

And during it all, Nicky’s hands were on me.

If he wasn’t holding me close while we ate, he was holding me close while we swam. His hand held mine while we played tourists and explored all the port-side towns, and whenever we were standing still, he was standing beside me with one of his brawny arms holding me close to him.

“I can’t get enough of these lips,” he groans now. We’ve just jumped from the yacht into the crystal-clear waters below and the minute that he emerged, his lips were fused on mine.

Totally not complaining.

“Hmmm,” I mutter. Words lose all meaning when he’s kissing me this way.

“These.”Kiss. “Lips.”Kiss. “Have.”Kiss. “Been.”Kiss.“Torturing.”Kiss.“Me.”

The sensation of the hard kiss he punctuates each word with combines with his cold, wet body pressed against mine, giving me all the feelings.

“These old things,” I tease, pointing to the lips I know are swollen from all the lovely kissing we’ve been doing.

True to his vow, Nicky has kept things very chaste between us, allowing us to indulge in only kissing. A lot of kissing. A lot of intense kissing.

He laughs and pulls me close to him when I pretend to swim away. I wrap my legs around his waist as he treads water to keep us afloat, my arms around his neck bringing my face in line with his.

His perfect, sun-kissed face. With ruby red lips and salt-water curled hair.

“This has been the perfect week,” I tell him, even though perfect feels too tame a word to describe how amazing the lastseven days have been. I’d always known he would be an easy person to be around, but after this week together, I see him in a different light. When he’s relaxed like this, being with him is as natural as breathing.

“For me too,” he replies, pushing a handful of my hair off my shoulder and planting a soft kiss in its place.

We float together in the warm Mediterranean Sea, lost in each other’s eyes. I revel in running my hands through his hair, soaking in every soft moan I illicit from him as I do.

“Is that your stomach?” he laughs now, looking down at my noisy belly pressed against his.

I glare down at the offending organ.Doesn’t it know we’re having a moment?

“Apparently, yachting Cherry needs feeding every couple of hours.”

He grins, letting go of me and swimming back to the boat. I follow along after him, doing backstroke to conserve some energy. Turns out yachting Cherry is also lazy as well.

“Let’s get you fed,” he says as he wraps a large towel around me. It’s been out in the morning sun and is toasty warm against my skin. I let out a contented sigh and rest my head against his chest. He holds me close and seems just as happy to stay like this as I am.

Gurgle.

“Seriously,” I chide my stomach, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. At this minute he thinks this is cute and all, but it’s feeling like he can’t take me anywhere, without some bodily function making itself known.

“Come on, you!”

He hoists me over his shoulder, firefighter style, and carries me up two flights of stairs and then back down another two. I hang on for dear life, giggling at the absurdity of it all.

---