*Michael*
The words rumbled from my chest, and I meant them with every fiber of my being.
“I fucking need you, Shelby. Right now.”
Her dark lashes fluttered and her pupils dilated as she looked at me, a hot flush spreading across her cheeks. I took her delicate hand in mine, leading her down the creaky steps to the cozy bedroom below deck.
The clatter of the waves against the catamaran's hull filled the silence as we made our way down, the narrow steps sighing under our weight. The cabin door opened to reveal an apex of warm, inviting space. The bedroom below deck was not vast, but every inch of it whispered tales of intimacy and seclusion.
Muted yellow light cast a golden glow onto the worn mahogany floorboards, their age only adding character to the room. An assortment of Persian rugs adorned the floor, each one intricately designed and tingling under our bare feet with an invitation to explore their history further.
“Michael, it’s beautiful,” Shelby whispered.
