The Pleasure Trip. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
bandanna fluttering in the breeze stirred by the ceiling fans. “Nice meeting you, doll, and good luck getting back to your ship!”
Jayne forced a smile that probably only amounted to a fractional lift of one corner of her lips. This was sooo much worse than bad. She’d mark this day on her calendar as the one performance she’d ever flopped.
“Rita?” Emmett’s eyebrows lifted in curious amusement as Claudia disappeared outside, and any semblance of feeling sorry for herself vanished like money on payday.
Summoning her best showgirl posture, Jayne lifted her chin and flounced her way to the bar.
“It’s an alias in my new undercover work, doll. And as long as you’re here, I’ll take a gin and tonic on the rocks with lime. And could you make it quick?” She glanced at her watch gone cloudy from moisture under the glass. Peering back at him, she narrowed her eyes to convey precisely the right amount of hauteur. “I’m in a hurry.”
* * *
HARRISON’S KISS MADE Rita dizzy in the best possible way. She wanted to lose herself in that kiss, to cling to this sexy, gorgeous man for dear life and simply revel in the pure pleasure of the moment. Arching up on her toes, she allowed herself a more firm hold—just for a little longer.
She’d never been an impulsive person before, but then she’d never had to literally step into her sister’s shoes. What if she was turning into Jayne in some sort of Freaky Friday switcheroo? On the plus side, if that were the case, she wouldn’t have to sweat this whole moonlight encounter. She’d simply do whatever felt good, the way Jayne had her whole life.
And Rita had to admit, Harrison’s fingers drifting up her shoulder to the crook of her neck was feeling incredibly good right now.
A bark of drunken laughter drifting up the stairwell from the deck below forced her to pull back. To think. Not easy to do anymore when every breath she took contained a hint of his woodsy scent. His minty breath. His male heat.
“I might not be able to kiss you again without getting carried away.” His whispered words loomed close to her ear and something about a male voice cutting through the utter darkness made her crave a man—him—all the more.
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” She shivered as his thumb smoothed over the small of her back. Hadn’t she always prided herself on speaking her mind? Being blunt and direct was her forte and she’d be a hypocrite to deny she wanted to take this further so badly her whole body hummed in anticipation.
The group of late night revelers didn’t stay on the top deck for long since there were no lights to illuminate the Jupiter level and the only features were the running track, some shuffleboards and a great view. Rita knew the area was most popular with early risers, part of the reason she’d steered Harrison this way after drinks.
“I don’t want to spoil a night that’s been—” He looked out to sea for a long moment, as if his answer might be in the dark waves below. “Damn, Rita, it’s been perfect.”
“Trust me, I’m very practical, and getting carried away is the right thing to do.” Taking a deep breath, she reached out to him through the darkness. Sliding her arms around his neck she plastered herself against him. Lips, breasts, hips—every part of her sought him out to cop a feel.
She threaded her fingers through his close-cropped hair, savoring the spiky strands as she drew him close. Her breasts molded to his hard male chest, tongue tangling with his as easily as if they were long-lost lovers.
Only she didn’t have lovers. Long-lost or any other kind. She only had relationships with nice men. Nice, foolish men who didn’t realize she was content to be committed to her career and her sister since it was easier than being tied to a guy with normal dating expectations. Marriage. Picket fences. Family that didn’t include Jayne and Margie and all their combined problems.
But Harrison wasn’t a regular guy. He was fantasy material. A vacation fling. Maybe tonight she could let loose and simply enjoy the moment. And it’s not like she had to worry about setting a bad example for Jayne since Jayne wasn’t around.
Not that Jayne had ever paid attention to what kind of example Rita set, damn it all.
“What if we take this back to your place?” Rita walked her fingers down his scalp to the back of his neck, slipping just under his shirt collar. “Would that be okay?”
A low groan rumbled in his throat. “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
She smiled against his mouth, her thigh grazing the proof of his happiness. “I have a fair idea.”
She didn’t know how long it had been since her previous sexual encounter. Her last relationship had ended…almost two years ago? No wonder she was unraveling in this man’s arms faster than a spool of thread in a sewing machine.
Although that didn’t explain why him. Or why now. Questions she didn’t want to answer while her blood simmered through her veins, her skin tingling with a combination of hot flashes and sensual shivers everywhere he touched. Good God, how had she ignored her own needs for so long?
“If we do this, there are no regrets, right?” Harrison halted his kiss to cup her face between strong hands. “I’m not going to mess things up with you just because I want you. Badly.”
Her pulse fluttered at his words, the notion soothing some insecure part of her that had always lived in Jayne’s sultry, uninhibited shadow.
Despite her lifelong attempt to be the logical sister, tonight she had every intention of being a bad girl.
DECISION MADE, RITA tugged Harrison toward the stairs, hormones kicking up a conga line more enthusiastic than the one they’d watch snake through the pool area two decks down. His kisses had aroused all her senses, tuning her into his every movement, his every breath.
They took the stairs together, striding more quickly now than their leisurely stroll around the running track earlier. But then, they had a very definite, a very delectable goal in mind.
Turning the corner at the end of one flight of stairs, they needed to enter one of the restaurant areas to find the next flight down. But before they re-entered the closed part of the ship, Rita’s heightened senses heard a noise along the rail. A muffled cry?
“Did you hear something?” Harrison stopped short as Rita bumped into him, his suit jacket framing a set of abs any woman would drool over.
“Yes.” She strained her ears to listen while she forced her eyes to look away from rippling male muscles.
“It sounded like a whimper or a sniffle.”
At the mention of a whimper, Rita was immediately plagued with a vision of her sister returning to the boat, crying in the hallway, forsaken and forgotten by her no account boyfriend. Even as she dismissed the idea as impossible in the middle of the ocean, Rita heard a distinctively feminine sob from underneath the stairwell.
The crying female on the other side of the wall wasn’t Jayne. Even in the vacated dimness of the stairwell, Rita could see the tall blonde perched at the rail, her head buried against a pink duffel bag.
Missy.
Hurrying over, she could hear Harrison’s steps following more slowly behind her.
“You okay, Missy?” She reached to touch her friend’s shoulder, instantly on alert even though a part of her still longed to be heading back to Harrison’s room. “What’s wrong?”
Lifting her head to reveal red-rimmed eyes and traces of tearstained stage makeup, Missy shook her head in sniffly despair. She swiped a hand across her face when she noticed Rita wasn’t alone.
“I got fired.” Voice breaking on the last word, Missy fell into Rita’s arms to cry