Chapter 149

I had knocked lightly but hadn’t gotten an answer, so I just walked into Wanda’s room. The little porthole in the side of the boat was the only source of light, casting a bright light across the end of the bed.

“Robbie?” Wanda asked in surprise.

“Hey, beautiful,” I said, closing the door behind me.

“I’m not-” she said, blushing furiously and wiping at her face. It looked like she’d been crying, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup whatsoever. I wasn’t going to lie, it was a reduction a bit in that cute-but-sultry look she always wore around, but I’d lived with Cassidy for years now. Seeing a woman without makeup wasn’t shocking to me, and it wasn’t a turn-off to see the little flaws. Wanda was a lot more freckled than I expected. She had a little scar mark near her temple. Her cheeks were still little apples, but less accentuated.

“Do you think I care about that?” I asked. I quickly stripped off my shirt and then got under the covers of the bed with her. When I pulled them back I saw she was wearing loose-fitting pyjama pants and, oddly, one of my t-shirts. I didn’t question it and instead I wrapped her up in my arms and kissed her cheek softly. “Just because you’re down doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

“I’m just not really feeling myself right now,” she whispered. “I want you to see me how I want you to, not like this.”

I kissed her cheek again, and then her shoulder. “What happened to you being my special toy?” I asked. “However, whenever, wherever I want to play with you, right? Well, right now what I want is to snuggle my special, beloved toy in this bed until she feels warm and safe.”

She relaxed, pressing her down into the pillow. “Thanks,” she whispered.

I held her, spooning her softly from behind, and got my lower arm up under the pillow as I held her hand with my other one. We didn’t talk, she just let me hold her for a while. And then she disentangled our fingers so that she could turn over and face me, looking into my eyes and letting her gaze drift over my face like she was trying to memorize it or read some hieroglyphs printed on my cheeks and forehead. I just smiled softly and met her gaze with mine, letting her do what she was doing.

Something softened in her, some worry abated or tension lifted, and she leaned forward and didn’t quite kiss me, but rather just pressed our foreheads together as our noses brushed and our breathing mingled. We stayed like that for a bit, and then finally she inched a bit more forward and our lips brushed - not even in a peck, just the softest brushing. Slowly we got closer until finally we were kissing, slow and methodical.

It turned into a soft, intensely passionate making out. It wasn’t something that was leading anywhere, no hope or promise of sex at the end of it. This was the goal, the intimacy and the communication of the kissing was everything. We slowly shifted until I was on my back and she was on top of me, holding me down with her body as she ran her fingers through my hair and I rubbed from her back down to her butt over the clothing, and then transitioned to under and feeling her hot skin on my fingers.