“It’s your fault.” She kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “I’ve never been like this until I met you.”
He managed to remember himself enough to back up and grab one of the condoms in the bowl on the nightstand. He rolled it over his cock and eased himself into Kendall. She pulled him closer, tugging his face down to hers and claimed his mouth. They moved together as one, neither rushing, as if she relished this slow, intimate moment just as much as he did. He never wanted it to end.
He never wanted any of this to end.
Kendall writhed around him as she orgasms, and Alex didn’t resist the desire to follow her over the edge. He came with her name on his tongue and fuck if that moment didn’t feel downright spiritual.
Right up until someone pounded on the door.
He lifted his head. “What?”
“Is Kendall Barnes in there?”
Alex frowned. He didn’t recognize the voice. “Yeah. One second.” He climbed off the bed, disposed of the condom, and yanked on a pair of shorts. Kendall held up her dress, but he tossed her one of his shirts. “Easier.”
“Thank you.” She pulled it over her head and it covered enough to work.
He opened the door and frowned at the white guy in a cruise employee uniform standing there. “What’s up?”
But the guy wasn’t looking at him. He peered around Alex to Kendall. “Ms. Barnes? I’m going to need you to come with me.”
Her eyes went wide. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m going to need you to come with me,” he repeated.
Oh shit. No way was this anything but bad news. Alex held up a hand. “Give us a second to get some clothes on. Does she have time to go to her cabin first?”
The guy looked away, visibly uncomfortable. “It’d be best if she didn’t.”
Kendall went pale. “Is it my friends? Did something happen?”
Alex could see that the guy was about to give another vague answer that wouldn’t do a damn thing but stress her out more, so he cut in. “Let’s find you some shorts with ties and we’ll get some answers.” He hesitated. “Unless you don’t want me to come with you.”
“I do.” She accepted the shorts he handed her and pulled them on, barely pausing to cinch the waist in tight. He had a spare pair of flip-flops stuff in his suitcase, so he handed her those as well. For his part, Alex finished getting dressed in record time.
He followed Kendall to the door. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 13
A thousand and one horrible scenarios went through Kendall’s mind as she and Alex followed the cruise employee to a private room. He passed them off to a Latino woman in clothing that spoke of management. She didn’t blink at Kendall’s clothing or at Alex’s presence at her back. “Ms. Barnes?”
“Yes, that’s me.” She twisted the hem of her shirt—of Alex’s shirt—between her hands. “What’s going on? Did something happen to one of my friends?”
“As far as I know, everyone who accompanied you on this trip is fine.” She hesitated. “But there seems to be a family emergency.” She passed over a quickly scrawled note that was obviously written by someone taking a message.
Ethan in hospital. It looks bad. Gretchen is a wreck. Get your ass home.
– Marley
“I have to go.” She hadn’t realized she spoke aloud until Alex tensed at her back. She couldn’t focus on him, though, not with her plans unfurling before her. She met the manager’s gaze. “I’m going to need to book a flight from the island.”
“We can help arrange that.” Another hesitation, the woman obviously didn’t want to be a dick, but that didn’t stop her from saying, “Of course, we cannot facilitate a refund at this juncture.”
As if Kendall cared the least bit about that. She waved the woman’s words away. “I’m not concerned about it. I’m going to pack.”
“Of course. I’ll send one of our people to collect you and help you book the flight.”
Every moment she stood there, she wasted time. “Thanks.” She turned and nearly ran into Alex. For a second, she’d actually forgotten he was in the room. She started to say—she didn’t know what. It didn’t matter in the end. Alex shifted back to let her pass and fell into step behind her as she hurried back to her cabin. She barely glanced at him as she started shoving clothing into her suitcase.
“Kendall.”
She didn’t look up. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Kendall, look at me.”
If she stopped, she’d start thinking about the implications of Gretchen’s husband in the hospital, about how serious it must be in order to be called home, about what it meant that Marley knew before she did and was the one to contact her instead of Gretchen. Bad, bad, bad. No matter which way she looked at it, it was bad.