Sherri took one look at me, and in that one look, I knew I’d been found out. Not that there’d been any hope of me hiding it. She was an alpha; she’d smell my arousal. I pretended to observe the breakfast buffet with a ridiculous amount of concentration so I could avoid looking at her. “I’m dealing with it,” I said.

“Who’s responsible for that?” she asked.

I sighed. “Remember the famous writer you told me about?”

Sherri cackled with laughter. “You would find a way,” she said. “Wow. Is he at least attractive?”

Oh, God.

“Very much so,” I replied. “but he’s also an ass. Expecting me to just…jump in bed with him.”

“Well, if I had the chance to bang a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer…”

“But isn’t that kind of unprofessional? Banging a guest?”

Sherri shrugged. “I mean, technically it’s not against the rules, Lance. You do what you need to. It isn’t any of my business.”

“Okay, but I don’t want to just…give in. Because he’s so smug. I have pride, you know.”

“Of course, you do. But you probably shouldn’t be working today,” Sherri said.

“But…”

Sherri raised a hand. “You know most employees would be happy at getting told they get to take some time off,” she said.

“But the kids.”

“Will be fine. I’ll tell them you were kidnapped by enemy pirates. We can launch a rescue mission for you later and everything,” Sherri replied.

“Oh, that might be fun,” I said. “We could do it for one of the excursions!”

Sherri nodded. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to tie you up in a cave.”

I laughed. “Part scavenger hunt, part rescue mission. We could leave clues for them, too,” I said.

“Perfect. Feel better now?”

“A bit,” I admitted. “Really, you’re the best.”

Sherri shrugged. “I’ve known you for how long, and you’ve had my back how many times?”

“That’s fair,” I said.

“So you take off however long you need to deal with this. Whether you want to wait it out or get laid is up to you. I’ll break in some of the newbies.”

“Well, I hope you don’t break them,” I replied. “That seems a bit harsh.”

Sherri waved a dismissive hand. “They’ll be fine,” she said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I impulsively grabbed a giant chocolate chip muffin and followed her out of the mess hall. We had our own place to eat, separate from the guests; it was part of the magic. We could eat with the guests, of course, but only if we were in costume.

“Well, I’m not going to get laid,” I said. “I’m not going to give him that satisfaction. I’m just going to wait it out.”

I was in for a very miserable week.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Sherri said.

The downside to being on a giant pirate cruise was there wasn’t much to keep me occupied in my cabin. I spent my unexpected day off eating a pint of cookie dough ice cream and binge-watching the Sopranos, which was probably a poor choice if I was trying to forget my suddenly increased libido. On a whim, I’d rejected several essay collections and purchased one of Adrian’s books to read on my Kindle. It was his newest one, entitled Abandon All Hope which seemed unnecessarily grim, but, to be fair, I wasn’t a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist. What did I know? Unfortunately, there was quite a bit of sex in it, too. I’d only made it about halfway through, and damn did Adrian write some vivid sex scenes. I wondered if he had practical experience in that department as well.

Even though I knew logically it was impossible to die from a lack of sex, it was difficult to convince myself of that with heat coiling in my stomach and the persistent ache in my cock. I’d tried everything from cold showers to masturbation, and at best, I gained a few minutes of relief.

Damn Adrian.

Okay, options. Options that might actually give me some relief. I could go over to Adrian’s suite and see if he was up for a quickie. It was unlikely he’d refuse, especially once his alpha’s delicate sense of smell picked up the scent of my heat. That was the easy solution. I could get back to work and do something else besides binge-watching old television shows. Now, how did I go about doing that while maintaining as much dignity as I possibly could?

Maybe the easy option wouldn’t be so bad. I could just…tell him I wanted to get laid, but I also had to consider that we were going to be stuck on the same ship together for two months. He could make my life very unpleasant if he wanted to. But on the other hand, if any problems arose, Sherri would almost certainly take my side and help me out. I flipped his business card between my fingers. There was a number listed beneath his name. But was it his business number or a personal one? God, it would be really embarrassing if I called and ended up with his secretary.

Wouldn’t that be a horrific conversation? Still, I couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, I’d like to have sex with your boss because he sent me into heat. Can you get in touch with him?

That was the sort of call that would end up plastered all over Facebook or on one of those bad customer experiences websites. Well, there was at least one way to figure out if it was a cell phone, and a cell phone was more likely to be his personal phone.

I typed the number into my phone and texted him. You gave me your card last night.

I hit send. My cock twitched and with a frustrated groan, I ground my hips into the bed.

My phone beeped, heralding the arrival of a text. Is this about the collaboration with Fatemah Almutairi?

Who on Earth was that?

Just how many people did you give your phone number to last night, Lafayette? I asked.

Oh, it’s YOU.

He sounded rather accusatory, even in a text.

That didn’t take long, Adrian added.

Was it immature of me to send back a text calling him cocky? Probably.

Okay, I texted. I realize you’re probably going to make me grovel or something, but I really just want you to help me out with this. I’ve been thinking about your cock for two days straight, and it isn’t fair.

I suppose I can indulge you.

Great. I texted him my cabin number and waited. I wondered idly if I ought to do something before he arrived, at least brush my teeth or hair. Maybe change into something besides sweatpants and a t-shirt. Granted, they were brand names, so at least that was something. Then again, he’d agreed without even seeing what I was wearing, so it probably didn’t matter much anyway.

Just in case, I quickly made the bed. I put on a pot of coffee on the off-chance he’d want some. I made sure I ran my fingers through my hair.

Sooner than I thought there was a knock on the door. I clapped my hands together and pulled it open. Adrian stood there. “I knew you’d call,” he said.

So smug. What was it like to be so confident about himself? To be so certain that he was desirable and sexy. I rocked back on my heels. I felt like I might come just standing there and looking at his chest through his skin-tight shirt.

“I started reading Abandon All Hope,” I said.

Adrian closed the door behind him. “I didn’t come here to join in a book club,” he growled. “I came here for one reason only, and judging from your smell, you didn’t want me to come and discuss my latest book.”

I gasped and immediately felt my face flush with warmth. Who was I? Some sheltered Southern belle? “Okay,” I said. “Do you want to get straight to it then, or…”

“This is the part where you lead me to the bedroom and I plow you into next week.”

I smiled and walked into the bedroom. It was, like the rest of my cabin, small. There was a twin-sized bed that I hoped Adrian wouldn’t balk at, a dresser that barely held anything, and an even smaller nightstand. The best thing about the room was the view; we were high enough to have a great look out over the ocean without it being blocked by the other decks. “One question about your books?” I asked.

Because I had the perfect line for this situation.

Adrian rolled his eyes. “One,” he said.

“Are you as good at having sex as you are writing about it?” I asked.

“No,” he said flatly.

I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t really considered that maybe he wouldn’t be good at sex. Surely, an alpha like him, with so much confidence, intelligence, and fame, must have tons of potential suitors. “No? Okay. Well, that’s nothing to be embarrassed by. I guess everyone has to start somewhere. That’s…”

He seized my wrists and pulled me flush against his chest. The hard muscle of his lean body and the bulge of his cock pressing against my stomach stirred my own arousal. My breath quickened, and as I bucked my hips against his, my own cock stiffened. “I’m better,” Adrian growled. “And I’m always in control. Do you understand?”

Of course, he was. That’s why he was an alpha. I nodded quickly.

“Then, stop rubbing against me,” Adrian ordered. “Until I say you can, understand? We’re not doing this until you do as I say.”

It took all my willpower to obey him, but I stilled my hips all the same. My entire body shivered in eagerness for what I hoped would follow, but I waited, simply because he’d told me to.

“So you aren’t entirely devoid of self-control,” Adrian said.

He rocked his hips and rubbed his cock against my stomach. My muscles tensed, and I couldn’t prevent the needy whine that tore itself from my throat. “You like that, don’t you?” Adrian asked.

“Oh, yes,” I said, my voice much higher than I would’ve preferred.

Adrian walked toward me, forcing me to back up with each step he took until my knees struck the mattress. My pulse raced as his hands tightened on my wrists, and he bent me backwards over the bed. I lifted my legs up and let my feet rest on the edge of the mattress. Adrian wasted no time and his hands flew to my shirt. I lifted my arms, and he pulled it over my head in a single, rough motion. Then, his hands were on my wrists again. He lowered his mouth to my collarbone and bit down, teasing the skin between his teeth. I tossed my head back and groaned.

Encouraged, he continued nipping his way across my collarbone and down to my pecs. He leaned further over, his cock brushing between my thighs. I whined and forced my hips to stay still. Sweat gathered behind the backs of my knees, against the small of my back, and between my thighs. My cock ached. “Can I just…”

“Not yet,” Adrian growled.

His hands yanked my sweatpants and boxers down past my knees. “Turn over,” Adrian said.

As I rolled onto my stomach, I heard the sound of his zipper. I looked over my shoulder and watched as he pulled a bottle of lube from his pants pocket and squirted it over my ass. I shivered at the sudden coldness and tensed when his fingertip approached my entrance. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you’ll barely be able to walk,” Adrian said.

When Adrian climbed over me, his movements shifted the sheets beneath me, providing a bit of friction and making my cock ache even more. I shifted my hips before he grabbed them and forced me onto my knees. “Oh, please,” I sighed.

One hand dug into my hip, while the other reached for my ass. His finger prodded my hole. I lowered my head to the sheets and whined as his finger slowly pushed in. He pulled back out then in again, this time much harder. I arched my back, trying to force myself down deeper. In and out, in and out. Faster and faster. Adrian slipped another finger in. I felt my inner walls tighten around him as he tried to stretch them further apart. In and out, in and out. I’d figured out the tempo and moved with him, wiggling back as far as I could on his fingers.

Suddenly, they were gone, and I shifted back, feeling a sudden longing from the absence. I heard the familiar tearing of foil, and my legs shook as Adrian’s cock finally pushed against my entrance. “I hope you’re ready,” he growled.

The tip of his cock pressed inside me and his hands dug into my hips. He eased his way in, and I leaned back, urging him deeper. I shuddered. His cock was large, and I felt full inside. He pulled out slowly and plunged back in. I couldn’t help an embarrassing squeak of surprise which caught in my throat.

He moved hard and fast. I groaned and tried to move my hips to match his rhythm, but he was so unbelievably fast. I struggled, frantically trying to keep up the pace. The heat inside my belly built until it seemed inconceivable that it could possibly build anymore. My cock ached, my stomach twisted and I panted, my breaths warm against the pillow, as he increased his tempo once more. He grunted and pounded into me, while his hands gripped hard on my hips, forcing me back further onto him. I ground my teeth and clawed at the sheets. In the otherwise silent cabin, the creaking of the mattress was deafening.

I came first and with my orgasm, the burning need inside me abated. I kept going though, because he wasn’t finished. Then his body shuddered, and his fingers dug further into my hips, leaving an ache that was far from unpleasant. He eased himself out and smacked my ass with the palm of his hand. It stung in a sharp way, but it felt good. I groaned and let myself fall back onto the sheets.

“Like I said: better,” Adrian growled.

The world seemed very pleasant and soft-edged at the moment. “I can’t really argue with that,” I said sincerely. “You’re amazing.”

“Very astute observation.”

I rolled onto my back and smiled at him. Abruptly, Adrian stood, the bed creaking from his sudden movement. “My policy is to fuck and leave,” Adrian said roughly.

“Oh. You don’t want to have a cup of coffee or…”

“What would we do? You’re not even on my level.”

“Your level?”

Adrian rested his chin in his hand. “Do you want to know what I really think about you? About your little room here? You want to be a man of elegance and breeding, but you’ve got neither of those things.”

“I’d say the same about you.”

He stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“I’d expect a man of elegance and breeding to have better manners,” I clarified.

“Better manners? Is that the best you can come up with? That’s better than your distinct lack of ambition. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be working here. Let me guess. You spent two years at community college and dropped out?”

“One semester,” I replied. “My mom was diagnosed with cancer, and I dropped out to take care of her.”

Adrian’s face grew stony. “How sentimental,” he said. “A lot of good that did her.”

I tangled my fingers in the sheets. No decent human being would react that way to learning about someone’s mother dying. And this man—hadn’t his own omega died? He, of all people, should be sympathetic.

“A lot of good that did her?” I asked. “That was my mother! If she’d been fighting cancer for a decade, I’d have still taken care of her because she was my mother. I loved her.”

But wait. Maybe it wasn’t about me at all. Maybe it was connected to his omega and his own frustration at her death. And if that was true, I couldn’t really blame him for his behavior. People handled grief differently. I’d mostly internalized mine, but I could see how other people might turn those feelings of loneliness, anger, and helplessness outwards.

But that didn’t mean I was going to just let him get away with his comments. No matter how hurt he was, that didn’t justify snapping at me or anyone else.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian said. “That was…”

“Highly inappropriate? Heartless?” I asked. “You’re a writer. You have your choice of adjectives.”

“I was going to say abhorrent,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“You’re using the Burton translation of Arabian Nights. If you were serious about studying Arabian Nights, you’d read Haddawy’s translation.”

“Thanks,” I said, pretending I didn’t care.

Adrian rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans.

“Look, I don’t know what you expected to come from this,” Adrian said. “If you expected something more.”

I don’t know what I’d expected from it either. Maybe I’d wanted to impress him, just a little bit, but primarily, I’d wanted some relief from going into heat. And I’d certainly gotten that. “You’re rubbing salt in the wound at this point,” I said. “It was fun, and that’s that. If I ever need someone to talk through my deep, emotional issues with, it won’t be you.”

I’d wanted to end it on a lighter note. I’d just never been very good at being intentionally mean. I understood what grief could do to a person, but at the same time, I wasn’t going to be a doormat. “Good choice,” Adrian said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sounds good, sugar plum.”

“Sugar plum?”

“I’m not going to tell everyone I fucked someone named Jolly Jack,” Adrian informed me. “That’s absurd.”

“How is telling everyone I’m sugar plum better than Jolly Jack?”

“I don’t know, but it is. Marginally,” Adrian said.

“It’s Lance,” I said. “Lance Wilcox.”

“Lance it is, then.”

Adrian grinned like he was in on some inside joke.

I got up and walked him to the door, and while I’d had the intention of holding the door open for him, I didn’t get the chance. He opened it and slammed it closed behind him.

For a few minutes I simply stared at the door and tried to untangle how I felt. Disappointed, primarily. Maybe a bit used. I had been used, but I’d been using him, too. Well, there was no point in dwelling on it. Realistically, he was out of my league anyway, and the only real attachment I had to him at this point was mind-blowing sex. That wasn’t much of a loss, and I’d be able to go back to work the next day without feeling like I was going to die if I didn’t get laid right then.

Maybe I should’ve been angry about the things he’d said, but really, everything he’d said about me had been absolutely true.