On His Face - Tabatha Kiss Page 0,67

barely wide enough to fit the two of us side-by-side. There are three doorways; one on our left, another to the right, and a third at the very end.

Drew pauses by the first door on the left. “Through this door,” he says as he slides it open, “we have our VIP stateroom.”

I poke my head inside. A large bed. A mounted TV. “Fancy,” I say.

“When I was younger, my sister and I used to have to share this one on family trips,” he says, reminiscing.

“Oh, well. Now it feels cramped.”

“It was, especially when she used to sneak her boyfriends on board after our parents went to sleep.” He chuckles. “I usually ended up on the deck with a sleeping bag, watching the stars.”

I picture it with a smile. “That sounds like fun, actually.”

He nods before giving the door on the right a quick tap. “Restroom,” he says. “Or the head, in boat-talk.”

I slide the door open wide, very curious to see what the head looks like on a small yacht. Thick towels. Vanity lights. A shiny toilet.

I glare. “That’s not fair.”

He peeks inside. “What isn’t?”

“Your boat has a nicer bathroom than I do.”

Drew laughs. “Sorry.”

“Shanty Row really needs to step up her game,” I quip.

He gives my hand a little squeeze, and we continue down the hallway to the last door. I grow more excited with each step, more curious about what else this night has in store.

“Wait,” he says, pivoting toward me. “Close your eyes.”

I arch a brow. “Why?”

“Just do it,” he whispers.

I obey. I feel a gentle push of air as Drew waves his hands in front of me to confirm I’m blind. “They’re closed!” I say, laughing.

“Good.”

The door slides open. I force myself to stay in the dark, determined not to ruin whatever surprise Drew has for me inside.

He takes hold of my arm and guides me into the room. “Don’t open them yet,” he says. “Stay there.”

His touch disappears. I stand still, biting my lip to smother my giggle as I hear him shuffle around the room.

“No peeking!” he says.

I laugh. “I’m not!”

Finally, he steps in behind me. His arms curl around my waist and his gentle voice tickles my ear as he leans in close and whispers, “Open your eyes.”

I open them and my smile digs in deeper.

Perfect.

It’s another bedroom, but it’s larger than the last one. Every corner has several flameless candles, perfectly spaced to illuminate the room with a soft, romantic atmosphere. Tinted windows provide a perfect view of the water, including the small, Chicago skyline off into the distance.

“And this,” he says, “is our master stateroom.”

“Now, this is fancy,” I say.

Drew kisses my neck. “I wanted to give you the full boat experience.”

I turn around, shifting my arms up onto his shoulders as I move. “This is beautiful,” I whisper, eager for another kiss. “Thank you, Drew.”

He smiles with his eyes on my lips. “Don’t thank me,” he says. “Just kiss me.”

Our lips touch, striking a match deep inside. It’s a simple kiss, but one powerful enough to make my heart beat faster than ever. His hands glide up my sides as we sway together without music. I run my fingers through his thick hair, coaxing him to kiss me again. His lips stray along my cheek. He leaves gentle, heated kisses on my neck as I lower my arms from his shoulders. I push his jacket back and he lets it fall to the floor. His arms wrap right back around me again, this time pulling me even closer to him as his kiss marks my collarbone.

“Drew,” I whisper. He kisses me again, deeper and wilder as heat rises between us. “Do you have a condom?” I ask.

Drew stops, but his arms stay tight around me. “Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod.

His shadowed eyes widen with surprise, then desire, then... disappointment. “No,” he answers. “I don’t have one.”

“No?”

“I wasn’t expecting sex.” His face screws up. “Should I have expected sex?”

“You brought a girl onto a yacht with a bedroom full of candles and champagne and you weren’t expecting sex?”

“I...” He pauses. “I don’t know how to answer this question without getting in trouble.”

I laugh to show I’m just teasing. “It’s okay. I brought some.”

Drew blinks. “You did?”

I reach into the pocket of my dress and pull out one of the three condoms I stuffed in there earlier. “One thing to love about Jenna,” I say. “Her dresses always have pockets.”

He admires me for a moment more. “Why did you bring that?”