The Passenger Ch. 09

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"Is that really such a bad thing?" she asked me, that night.

I propped myself up on my elbow while I feasted my eyes on the gorgeous curves of her body as she lay next to me on the bed in our cabin on the Slowboat.

"Not necessarily," I admitted. "It's just that the whole idea is to keep a low profile."

"I know. But I can't help it, Harvey; it makes me feel so... Well, sexy."

"You are sexy, my love. Far more than I think you know."

She glanced down at my cock, which was swelling rapidly as I let my eyes wander over her amazing body.

"Oh, I think I've got the general idea," she said, reaching out to caress my hardening shaft. "I see how you look at me. It's good to know I can still turn you on."

"Are you kidding? Anne, you don't just turn me on every time I look at you and every time I think of you. You work on me like a hormone shot."

She smiled. That was exactly what she'd wanted to hear, of course.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad. But today was... I'm not sure what to call it."

"You enjoyed the attention?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Yeah... But it was more than that. It made me feel all... Well, tingly, I guess the word is. It's kind of hard to resist."

"Oh?" I asked innocently. "Tingly where?"

I reached out and touched her.

"Like... Here, maybe?"

"Hmmm..." she crooned. "Yes, there... And there... And especially there... Hmmm... A little higher... Yes, right there..."

My mouth and tongue followed my fingertips, tracing the pattern of her tingles.

"There are more places," she whispered. "Here, let me show you..."

Her fingers played across my skin as she touched me, here, and there, and there...

And later, much later, when her breathing had grown calm again and the sticky wetness of our passion had begun to dry on our skins, I had to agree with her: those tingles were almost impossible to resist.