We sat in plush recliners at a round table in the corner of the lounge, talking over drinks. Well, they did most of the talking, and I threw back blue margaritas, minus the salt. The guys were cool, but spending more time in their company confirmed they weren’t my cup of chai tea. But since my dear Georgia seemed to be having the time of her life and that much closer to an orgasm supplied by the hands, or other parts, of someone other than herself, I rode with it. She, Trevor, and Kyle entertained each other by talking about Gen-Z rappers and their baby mamas that kept gossip blogs busy. And me? I was out of margarita.
“I need a drink.” My only addition to the conversation was ignored. I was kind of hoping Kyle would prove to be a gentleman by offering to get me one, but no. He’d been too enthralled about the ciphers at the latest hip-hop awards. No shade; I liked those too, but damn. I needed a refill.
Pushing away from the table, I stood, garnering everyone’s attention.
“Where you going?”
I looked at Gia. “To the bar. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with you.” She shifted in her seat, preparing to stand.
“It’s okay. I’m good. I’ll be right back.” She watched me for a second, looking for a sign that I felt differently from what I’d said then conceded by sitting back in her chair. Kyle grinned at me, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Read the room, dude.
A first-day cocktail was prepared and set before me in no time, thanks to a short line of customers at the bar. A sign announcing the colorful concoction offered to us during embarkation was half off for the night was enough to sway me that way instead of another margarita. Not being in the mood to rush back and listen to Gia and the Two-Live Crew talk celebrity gossip, I perched on a stool and enjoyed my drink with a side of people watching in silence. Silence only lasted about a minute or two before breaking from a baritone so deep it felt like it reached the depths of my stomach. The vibration I felt from it clued me in on the man’s proximity.
“How you doing? I’d like a Johnny Walker Blue with a splash of Coke. Extra lime, please.” The man’s voice was so melodic that it could sell records a cappella. Not a drum, horn, or bass were needed. His voice was beautiful. He could charge for people the likes of me to hear it. I’d certainly pay, even put it on auto-draft. There was a smidge of familiarity I could hear but couldn’t place, but I kept my eyes down.
“Certainly. Could I have your sail card, sir?”
The man shifted, the move sending a breeze of cinnamon fused with lemon and cedar wafting through my nostrils. Wow. He smelled like the cologne department stores secured under lock and key behind the counter. Like there were no smelling samples on slits of paper because everyone just wasn’t able. It was smooth, spicy, and alluring. The list could go on.
No longer wanting to be kept in interested suspense, I turned toward the man to add sight to the sound and smell senses he’d already awakened. What I saw was better than what I smelled and heard. My eyes narrowed as I attempted to solve a puzzle, and then a ding-ding-ding rang in my head as I was mentally transported to a decade prior.
“Professor Cameron?” The incredulity in my tone was on ten because I couldn’t believe the subject of so many wet dreams during my sophomore year was beside me. I blinked, debunking the idea that all my cocktail sipping induced the hallucination consisting of the subject of an old fantasy I tucked away in the confines of my mind.
Leaning on the bar, braced on his elbow, he looked just how I remembered him. Tall, but not too tall—I’d say right at six feet or just below. Skin the shade of brown sugar was smooth from his bald head to his face. Dressed in a checkered button-up and trousers, he oozed sexy sophistication.
And that beard…
Damn.
Thick and full of a healthy shine, it was grade-A beard goals. All gray with the exception of a little black peppering the hairs bordering the sides of his mouth. Well… not gray. It was silver and the only characteristic hinting to his age. Shiny and silver like a lucky dime, making me feel like it was my lucky day.
He turned to me; his eyes stretched in surprise of hearing his name then narrowed in recognition. God, I hope it’s recognition.
“Ms. Southern?”
Relief rushed me at the mention of my name. He remembered. “Yes, but you can call me Camryn. American Lit was a long time ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile, sending light up his face until it twinkled in his eyes. His eyes took an appreciated stroll down my body causing a warm tingle to rush down my spine. “You’re right. So that’ll be Sylvester, or Sly, to you.”
Sylvester. It was smooth like him. I liked it. Really liked it.
“Sure thing, Sylvester.”
The side of his mouth hiked. “How have you been?” Without giving me a chance to protest—not that I would have—he pulled me into a hug. My eyes fluttered closed as I sank into his embrace, relishing in the feel of his hard body against mine.
“I’ve been great,” I replied over his shoulder, inhaling a deep breath that sent zings through me. His scent and touch excited me in places that had been dulled for a while. My body’s response to him was shocking as I pulled back to ask how he’d been.
“Great. I can’t complain. How did the bachelor’s in English program work out for you?”
I blinked, surprised that he remembered my degree program. “It was a struggle, but I pulled through. I now own a business creating content and managing websites as well as writing for companies.”
His grin stretched wide across his face and warmed me to know I’d made him proud. “That’s impressive. Congratulations, Camryn.”
I shifted my eyes downward, needing to break our stare. It was intense and felt potent enough to see the things I wanted to hide, like the fantasies I’d had of him.
“Hey, love. We were worried about you. Thought you might’ve gotten lost.”
I turned, finding Kyle standing too close to me for someone I’d just met hours ago. “Love?” I questioned because what the hell was that? “The table is twenty feet away. It would be concerning if I’d gotten lost, don’t ya think?” I chanced a glance at Prof—Sylvester, to find him watching me with what appeared to be amusement and interest. He ignored Kyle as Kyle ignored him. Interesting.
Glancing at the corner of the lounge where our table was, I found Gia waving at me wearing a puzzled expression. “I’ll be right there,” I told Kyle, staring at him until he got the message. It took a few seconds before my intention clicked, and he left, being sure to mention he’d be waiting on me. “Guess I’ll see you around,” I sighed, turning my attention back to Sylvester.
“I hope so, Camryn.” The smolder on his deep-set, mystical eyes pinned me in my seat longer than I anticipated being there. Once shaken from the trance, I stood and headed back to the table.
“I thought I was going to have to run up on someone.” Gia’s words met me when I approached the party of three.
“I would’ve handled that, but she was just talking to some old dude.”
I lifted a brow at Kyle while taking my seat. “Reporting my business, are we?” The question knocked the cockiness from his expression. Turning back to my cousin, I said, “I ran into my old professor, Professor Cameron, and we were catching up.”
Her eyes squinted from, no doubt, filling the Rolodex of names to piece together what I’d said. She gasped. “You’re talking about…”
“Mhmm,” I sounded, not wanting her to complete her statement.
“Damn! What are the odds? Professor came to get his freak on.”
“I guess so.” I shrugged, not liking the disdain I felt at the idea of what or who he intended to get into during this cruise.
Conversation resumed. This time, the topic of discussion was the rappers topping the Forbes List. I drowned out the comparison of Jay-Z and Kanye, mind on my brief conversation with Sylvester wishing we were still having it at the bar until a man announced the comedian would be taking the stage in five minutes. I considered going to the bar for one more drink so I wouldn’t have to bother with it when the show began. Just before I stood, a cruise employee approached our table, holding a tray with four drinks on top of it.
“Good evening, ladies, and gentlemen. A round of first-day cocktails courtesy of the gentleman.”
My eyes followed the direction the waitress tipped her head to find Sylvester lifting his glass in our direction. The right side of his mouth was raised in a grin I couldn’t help but return.
“Okay then!” Gia cheered, reaching for a glass. Trevor and Kyle exchanged bothered looks before slowly grabbing a drink from the tray.
My eyes were drawn back to the bar, where I found my ex-professor still watching me. The look he sent my way severely differed from how he looked at me when I was just twenty years old. The way he peered at me went beyond professional. I recognized the look in his eyes.
It was definitely interest.