Page 12 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
“Well, I’ve had a really long day. As you know.”
“Hmmmm.” He suckled at the back of my knuckles—a move that could’ve, andshould’ve,looked obscene. But he made it seductive. Made me imagine that mouth suckling on other parts of my body—parts that were nowscreamingwith want.
“I could use a massage”
“Oh, could you?” Jackson huffed playfully.
“Hmm-hmmm. And maybe a nice hot bath.”
“Soundswonderful.”
“And you know what’dreallymake my day better? If I could find a hunky guy who’d be willing to assist me with all that. Do you happen to know a guy who’d do that for me, Jackson?”
Jackson’s hand slid up, up,up. His hot, soft fingers snuck under my blouse, tracing alluring patterns over my belly. Patterns that had my muscles bunching and left me panting. “I think I know of a guy. And lucky you”—his hand grazed the underside of my left breast—“he’s available tonight. And the only payment he requires”—he pinched my nipple—“is a blow job.”
“Eeeeeeeuuuuppppuuccccckkk…”I grasped on to the coarse wood railing with all the strength I could muster as my guts hurled themselves overboard.
“Fuck, babe.” Jackson’s hands tapped my back. “How much more do you have left?”
None.
The answer should’ve beennone.
I’d been on this ship not even anhour.And I’d donenothingbut puke.
Which washorrific. Because A:this rickety wooden vessel had thesketchiestbathrooms I’d ever seen.They were toilet seats strapped over a hole.
A hole that led directly to the sea.
I’d crouched by one of those toilets when my stomach first started roiling. But the violentWORUSHof the sea whisking beneath the black hole had sent me bolting back to the deck. Where I’d been since, hurling my guts up. I’d cleared a quiet place for Jackson and me to stand, though, since most people had migrated elsewhere once they heard me exorcising my demons, a.k.a, my stomach.
But that led me to the second reason this was so wretched. B:Jackson was at a complete loss.
Uncertainty poured off him as he touched my back—cautiously—standing a little distance away, lest I misaim and splatter some of my demons all over him. “I don’t think we’re even halfway there.” His voice was tight. “Maybe you should’ve taken the meds earlier.”
I’d taken the motion sickness preventative exactly one hour before we boarded the boat.Exactly. I’d timed it down to the minute.
It hadn’t helped.
Because it wasn’t the motion that had my stomach in an uproar. It was theocean.
Seeing it. Hearing it.Smelling it.
Oceans stunk. That briny odor grated at my nostrils and made my eyes water.
And all of it together—the sights, sounds, and smells—had made me sticky.Sweaty.And set my stomach panickedly working on its evacuation plan.
I heaved again, straining against the railing, squeezing my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to see the frothing waters beneath us.
Someone walked by with a humphof disgust.
“Babe, you should really be doing thisin the bathroom.” Jackson’s fingers fluttered against my shoulder. “Or at least below deck. People are starting to get upset. I know there’s a bar down there…”
My stomach surged.
“…so I’m assuming there are some places to sit. That’d be better, right?”
I pressed my knuckles to my mouth, swallowing the fresh flood of bile and making sure itstayed downbefore I croaked, “That’d beworse.”
