"No one on this ship will notice." Was that a hint of disgust in his voice? "I thought you liked the Lothario." "I like sailing. I like sex. What's not to like about her?" Bree shrugged and kept walking. The chains and jewels bounced against her thighs with every step, making it impossible to ignore the plug in her ass. Drew kept pace behind her, close enough she felt the heat radiating off his body. She fought the smile that crept to her lips. He looked ridiculous in the stripper/cop outfit. The visit to Wardrobe to arrange a shortage of camo costumes had been a stroke of genius on her part. She'd never dreamed he'd trade the plastic cuffs for real ones, though. All trace of humor left, replaced by liquid desire. Damn. He'd turned the tables. Again. "On the bed, on your knees," he said, closing and locking the door behind him. There wasn't any sense in arguing. His gift was doing what she supposed it was meant to do—drive her insane with need. She slipped out of the sandals that came with her costume and crawled on her knees to the middle of the bed.
