Prepare to be boarded...for romance.
Laura Stanek is a single mom and a romance author whose daughter badgers her until she enters a contest for a free pirate themed cruise. It all seems like high camp, until little Feylen is frightened by one of the performers. To Laura, he's more eyecatching than terrifying, a fantasy romance she'd love to make a reality.
Will this be the trip of a lifetime, or heartbreak on the high seas?
Her mind drifted to her little interaction with ‘Sinbad’. She had at times felt attraction to men, so that was standard. She wasn’t a nun. It was something one just had to deal with. This was different, though.
Before, she would idly daydream about kissing the man in question, get a bit of warmth between her legs, maybe, then go home and ponder it a bit until she had a bit of privacy to take care of the niggling urge. But her pirate boy...she had been caught by a sudden tension that struck her entire body with the force of a slap. She had not merely thought about kissing him, she could feel a thirst to taste him, feel the pressure of his firmness, the humid power. The sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach when he’d turned and left.
Silly. How can you lose what you never had? Shh. Use the usual method of the unremittingly celibate. Fantasy...
He wrapped her hair around his hand. “I must kiss you...” His lips met hers, and she pressed against his hard frame, grinding against him as her fingers found the sleek ponytail and yanked the ribbon binding it, freeing the wind-scented strands. Their kiss deepened, his hardness attesting to his increased arousal. Her nails dug into his back, enjoying the flex and strain of hard muscle against her fingertips. His hands moved to her rounded ass. Well, maybe a bit too rounded, but he was into big butts. Really.
Christ, she even fantasized in romance prose. And she needed an editor for that, as well. She could picture that...her editor, Melissa, whispering in her ear that she needed more description...and why not add a threesome? Readers like that. Maybe a paranormal aspect, too. An elf couldn’t hurt. And cut the part about big butts.
“Milady, might a wayward sailor join you?”
Laura twitched out of the half-doze the warmth of the sun—and her thoughts—had induced and attempted to focus. Good Lord. Time to snatch some semblance of wit. At least half. “Do ye mean me harm, sir?”
He perched on the end of her lounge and grinned. Great smile. Still in his pirate garb. Something about that was quite appealing. She tried very hard not to squirm. Much. Damn.
