I’d nabbed one of Gavin’s old t-shirts from the closet and snuggled into it, savoring his smell, still lingering in the worn cotton. My hand traveled between my legs as I replayed what happened in the kitchen again and again, feeling his lips on mine, his rough hands ripping the buttons on my blouse, his stiffness rubbing against me until I cried out in his arms. I shuddered as I touched myself, imagining what he’d look like wearing nothing but a smile. I knew I shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts--that he was my boss now, and I was about to be cooped up with him on a long voyage--but I couldn’t help myself. I longed to see what his chest looked like, to run my hands over the hard planes of muscle, then maybe let them wander downward... I ran a hand over my breast, and winced. I looked down to see a red mark on my cleavage and smiled in the dark. He’d bitten me there. My last boyfriend had certainly never done that. I shivered as pleasure welled up inside of me, palming my nipple as I found release.
