Warren’s Peace Page 3

Warren strolled over to the other side of the ship, his nerves surfacing again. All through dinner, he’d watched Fletcher’s lips while he spoke to him, and all he could think about was kissing the man. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he’d thought about kissing Fletcher ever since their flight together when he thought he’d never see him again.

  Yet here he was, standing in front of Fletcher’s cabin. He took a deep breath and rapped gently on the door. It opened instantly, with Fletcher half-dressed and flashing that beautiful grin.

  “Uh.” Warren hesitated, suddenly feeling like an intruder. “Should I come back?” Maybe ten minutes wasn’t long enough, although he was rather enjoying the view.

  Fletcher was a sight to see in his button-down dress shirt, black socks, and white briefs that hugged the man’s fantastic ass. “Nonsense. Come on in and grab a drink. There’s beer and wine in the refrigerator, or I can call for a cocktail,” he said, while slipping his muscular legs into a pair of skinny white jeans.

  “Holy fuck.” Warren breathed as Fletcher’s shirt fell to the floor. Not silently enough, as Fletcher turned around and smirked, obviously pleased with Warren’s reaction.

  “You look amazing.” Warren stepped toward Fletcher, suddenly feeling bolder than he had in years. What this man did to him.

  Fletcher’s long lashes framed his emerald-green eyes. Warren stepped closer and placed his hand on Fletcher’s firm abs and gazed into those eyes. In a flash, Fletcher crashed his lips into Warren’s, and they shared their first kiss, sloppy and insistent, as their tongues intertwined, saying hello there, sexy, I want you. Warren felt like he was floating on air. Holy hell.

  They broke apart, and Fletcher looked ready to drag him into his bedroom. He took his hand, but Warren stopped him. “It’s been a very long time.”

  Fletcher seemed to understand what he was saying. “Take it slower?” he asked, softly.

  “Please. I want to, I just….”

  “You haven’t been with a man….”

  “Not since college.” Warren dropped his head, and Fletcher moved closer and lifted his chin, staring into his eyes.

  “I believe you’ll be worth the wait. Would you care to dance with me, Warren?”

  Warren nodded. “I’d like that very much,” he said, and kissed the gorgeous man again. This time it was slow and sensuous.

  “I better finish dressing, then.”

  Warren instantly regretted his decision not to jump in bed with this outrageously sexy man. Instead, he grabbed that beer in the refrigerator and practically guzzled it while he watched Fletcher cover his sexy-as-sin body.

  His phone buzzed, and he looked down to see his daughter’s text. Well, did you meet anyone yet? He chuckled softly.

  Fletcher turned around. “Anyone interesting?”

  “My persistent daughter. She wants to know if I’ve met anyone.”

  “What will you tell her?” Fletcher faced Warren, folding his arm and curling his lips into a smirk.

  “Yes. But not tonight.” He closed his phone and placed it in his pants pocket.

  THE CLUB was packed with mostly younger men and a few women. Fletcher pulled Warren through the crowd, and they found two empty chairs at the bar. “What’ll ya have?” the bartender yelled over the blaring dance music.

  Fletcher looked over at Warren. “Tanqueray and tonic?”

  Warren nodded. “You remembered.” He seemed pleased as punch.

  Fletcher shrugged. “You made quite an impression on me.”

  “And you’ll have a vodka martini—no ice.” Fletcher smiled back. Warren had remembered too.

  “Dry please, and straight up,” he said to the bartender. Then he turned to Warren. “That would have been an impossible request on the flight, but it’s….”

  “Coming right up,” the bartender answered, then walked away to prepare their drinks.

  “This is quite a party,” Warren yelled, seeing all of the sweaty bodies grinding on the dance floor.

  Fletcher handed Warren his drink. “Come on.” He led him to a table in front of the dance floor, where they sipped on their cocktails and watched. “You want to dance?”

  Warren nodded and followed Fletcher to the floor, who held his arms open. Warren fit perfectly in them. Fletcher wrapped them around Warren and began swaying to the music.

  They danced slow, and they danced fast. Warren proved to be a quick study and held his own. They were a perfect fit. Fletcher wondered how they’d fit in bed together; then he reminded himself he needed to take this slow, not only for Warren, but for himself.

  He wasn’t ready to start another relationship after the fiasco that was Alex. But Warren wasn’t Alex. He wrapped him tighter and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Warren’s. Warren kissed him back, and suddenly, the room seemed to disappear around them as if it were just the two of them.

  After the dance, Fletcher took Warren’s hand and let him back to their table. They sipped their cocktails. “How would you like a stroll on the deck?” He needed to check out the entire ship without being noticeable. That meant anywhere passengers went, including the decks.

  They ordered another round and headed upstairs to the main deck with the swimming pool and water slide. Since this was a single’s cruise, there weren’t any small kids. “Hey, want to swim?”

  Warren’s face lit up. “Yes, and I’ll race you down the slide.”

  After leaving each other to go to their cabins to change, they met back out on the deck. Warren, of course, finished first and was waiting for him. “Nice suit,” Fletcher said, smirking.

  Warren looked down at his shorts and shrugged at the whales swimming on his trunks. “Christmas present from my kids. Are they silly?”

  Fletcher hadn’t meant to make him feel self-conscious. “Not at all. They’re fun. And isn’t that what this is all about?”

  “Last one in!” Warren dove into the pool. When he came up for air, he was halfway to the other side, so Fletcher dove in after him.

  There were just a few other people in the pool, and they paid him and Warren no attention as they splashed each other. Fletcher swam up to Warren and gave him a quick peck. “How about that water slide?”

  Warren took off to the other side of the pool. “Race ya.”

  THEY SPENT nearly two hours swimming, sliding, and horsing around in the pool. Warren couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun with another adult. After one last dip in the pool, Fletcher suggested they finally take that stroll around the deck.

  They’d each brought a change of clothes with them, so they didn’t have to return to their cabins in wet suits. The pool area had bags where they put their room number, and someone would collect them and bring them clean to their cabin. Fletcher had Warren use the same bag since he had VIP, so the service was free of charge.

  Fletcher took Warren’s hand as they walked along the deck. There were four pools, a hot tub, and the two water slides. On the other end was minigolf. “I haven’t played that in years,” Warren told him.

  Fletcher just smiled. “I haven’t either. Maybe we should try this week.”

  “I’d like that. Um, Fletcher? Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?”

  Fletcher glanced over at him. “I’d love to. But let’s not wait until dinner to see each other again.”

  Warren smiled, feeling his face warm. “How about a nightcap in your cabin?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Holding hands, they walked back down to Fletcher’s suite. Fletcher picked up the phone and ordered cocktails, which arrived incredibly fast. Must be a VIP thing. Warren wondered again what exactly Fletcher did for a living where his boss would send him on a single’s cruise as a VIP. But it didn’t seem that Fletcher liked to talk about himself very much.

  They took their drinks out on the balcony. “This is beautiful,” Warren said, looking at the hot tub.

  “Do you want to take a dip?”

  Warren nodded. “Yes, but I don’t h
ave my bathing suit.”

  A knock on the door startled him. Fletcher opened it and handed Warren the bag with their dried swimsuits.

  “Wow, that was quick.” He wondered if Fletcher would rather they were naked. He considered it—a lot, but he’d promised himself not to rush anything, and Fletcher was being very sweet about it.

  “Before we do that,” Fletcher started. “May I kiss you?”

  Lust flooded Warren, and it took all his will not to climb the man like a tree. Instead he nodded and moved closer. “I’d like that very much.”

  Fletcher leaned in, pressed his soft lips against Warren’s. Fletcher felt warm and welcoming, and Warren wanted to drown himself in Fletcher’s lips. He opened his mouth, and Fletcher’s tongue met his and they wrapped their arms around each other. The kiss was gentle yet insistent. When it ended, their foreheads remained pressed together. “That was nice.”

  Fletcher smiled. “Put your suit on and meet me on the balcony.” Warren retrieved it from the bag and ducked into the bathroom. It was larger than the one in his room. Fletcher sure knew how to travel.

  When he returned, Fletcher was already in the hot tub with two glasses of wine sitting on the flat edge. “Come on in.”

  Warren eased himself into the hot, bubbly water. It felt nice against his skin, but he wanted to feel Fletcher again.

  He sat next to him and Fletcher handed him a glass. “A toast,” he said, clinking their glasses together.

  “To us?” Warren offered.

  “And this wonderful adventure ahead of us. I’m so glad you sat next to me on that airplane.”

  “Me too.”

  They talked, sipped wine, and kissed. Warren was having an amazing time. He wouldn’t care if they spent the entire cruise in Fletcher’s hot tub. But he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself. “Fletcher?”

  “Mm?”

  “It’s getting late. I better get back to my cabin.”

  “Oh?” Fletcher seemed surprised that Warren wanted to leave. He really wanted to stay, but had promised himself not to rush into anything, and sleeping with a man he just met was definitely rushing.

  “Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

  Fletcher’s face lit up. “I’d like that very much. I have a reservation at the buffet for eight thirty. Would that be all right?”

  “It sounds perfect.” Warren leaned over and gave Fletcher another kiss. “I’d really like to stay, but I….”

  “I understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  They stood up, and Fletcher grabbed towels so they could dry off. Warren put his clothes back on, and then they kissed one last time at the door. “Can I pick you up in the morning?” Warren asked.

  “Are you a morning person?”

  “I’ll be up by seven, I’m sure.”

  “Come over as soon as you can, then. Good night, Warren.”

  “Good night, Fletcher.”

  And Warren left Fletcher’s suite and returned to the other side of the ship. At least they were on the same level.

  He had so many things to think about. He’d met a man. How would he tell his kids? Maybe he should wait. Nothing may come of it. But Warren knew that wasn’t true.

  He went to sleep that night with thoughts of Fletcher, his kids, and Sarah. Would she approve of Fletcher? He thought that she would.

  WARREN’S ALARM went off at six forty-five. He didn’t want to risk being late, as he told Fletcher he’d be up by seven. Since breakfast was at eight thirty, he wanted to spend some time alone with Fletcher first.

  He showered and shaved and dressed in khaki shorts and the Hawaiian shirt his kids gave him for Christmas. He slipped on his loafers and combed his hair, checking himself in the mirror one last time. Butterflies swarmed his belly as he thought of seeing Fletcher again.

  He shut his cabin door and made his way to Fletcher’s suite, hoping it wasn’t too early. He rapped on the door, holding his breath. Fletcher answered immediately, wearing a polo shirt and white shorts. Warren’s mouth practically watered at the sight of him.

  “Come in,” he said, smiling.

  “Good morning.”

  Fletcher pulled Warren into a kiss. “Now it is.”

  Warren chuckled. “You make me smile.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Fletcher asked, walking over to the kitchen area where a fresh pot brewed, waking Warren up with the heavy scent of Colombian roast.

  “You have answered my prayers, good man.”

  They took their steaming cups outside and sat on the two beach chairs next to the hot tub. The lid was on, but Warren could hear the bubbles churning, reminding him of their evening together.

  He must have been staring at the hot tub. “We can do that again tonight,” Fletcher said.

  Warren looked back at Fletcher. “I’d like that.”

  After their coffee, Fletcher led Warren to the main lobby area. “What are your plans after breakfast?” Fletcher asked him as they were seated in the buffet restaurant.

  “I was thinking of going for a swim and maybe checking out the shopping. I want to get something for my kids.”

  “The shops onboard are very expensive. Tomorrow when we port, if you’d like, we can go shopping on the island.”

  “Sounds really nice. Thank you.”

  “Swimming would be great, and I’d love to hit the spa for a massage.” Fletcher seemed very active. Like he wanted to try everything on the ship. Well, Warren was here to have a good time, too, and he couldn’t think of a better person to experience it with than Fletcher.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “I’ll book us massages for the afternoon.”

  After their swim and walk through the shops, which were as expensive as Fletcher had told him, they went to lunch in a cute fifties diner, where they had strawberry milkshakes, burgers, and fries. Warren was glad they’d already swum in the morning.

  They took another stroll after lunch, and then went to their rooms to change for their spa appointment, where Fletcher instructed the desk to charge both bills to his room.

  Warren tried arguing with him, but Fletcher insisted. “I invited you. I want to.” He gave up and thanked Fletcher. But it made him wonder again what kind of job he had where he could afford all this. He was an intriguing if not mysterious guy.

  After their massages, salt scrubs, and facials, both men emerged into the waiting area, relaxed, refreshed, and surprisingly famished.

  Fletcher had made reservations at the ship’s Italian grille. The meal was incredible, and so was the company.

  Warren hadn’t known what to expect on this trip. Would he meet anyone he liked? Would he feel lonely? But Fletcher answered all of his questions, and more.

  After dinner they went to the show. Warren would have rather spent a quiet evening in either of their cabins, but again, Fletcher seemed to want to try everything. He should be grateful that Fletcher didn’t seem annoyed that he wanted to take things slow. But he was getting restless himself. He wanted to touch Fletcher, taste him, things he hadn’t done with a man since college.

  Fletcher smirked, apparently reading his mind, and possibly noticing the slight bulge in Warren’s pants. “Would you like to come back to my cabin?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  WHAT AM I doing? Warren followed Fletcher to his suite, wishing for some liquid encouragement. “Can we order a drink?” he asked as Fletcher open the door.

  “Sure thing.” Fletcher picked up the phone and ordered from room service. It arrived ten minutes later.

  “Fast service.”

  Fletcher gave him an apologetic shrug. “VIP.”

  “Hmm, must be nice. Your company paying for it?”

  It was an innocent question, yet Fletcher wore a funny expression. “I don’t want to talk about work right now.” He stepped closer to Warren, who downed his cocktail, set down the glass, and brushed his lips against Fletcher’s in a soft kiss. “That’s more like it,” Fletcher said, his vo
ice thick with lust.

  Fletcher took Warren’s face in his hands and kissed his lips. Warren was floating again. Could he ever get enough of these kisses? Fletcher slowly undressed him, starting with his jacket, flinging it over the dresser, then quickly removed his own before giving his full attention to Warren. “This isn’t going too fast?” he asked, while unbuttoning Warren’s shirt, revealing a white undershirt. Warren shook his head and slipped the T-shirt over his head.

  “No, I want this.” Warren’s voice shook with anticipation, contradicting his words.

  Fletcher brushed his lips against Warren’s neck, his breath hot as he made his way down to Warren’s chest, kissing and licking every inch. “How about a dip first?

  “That would be nice.”

  “Do you want to get your bathing suit from your cabin?” Fletcher cocked his head, waiting for Warren’s answer.

  This time, Warren shook his head and in a thick voice, he said, “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  Fletcher took Warren’s hand and led him to the balcony. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and slid out of his shorts. Fletcher was a beautiful man. He had broad shoulders and a little bit of dark fur across his chest. Fletcher slipped off his underwear, and Warren took a long look at the man’s penis. Semierect, it was already long and thick. Warren’s mouth watered.

  “Your turn,” Fletcher said, watching him with intent.

  Warren pulled off his own boxers, feeling a little self-conscious. He needn’t worry about anything, though. Fletcher placed his hands on Warren’s shoulders, leaning in, and they kissed. “Come on,” he said, with encouragement.

  “I’m having the best time,” Warren told Fletcher as he sank into the warm jets, water seeping into every crevice.

  “Me too,” Fletcher said. “I never expected to meet someone on this trip.”

  That seemed kind of a strange thing to say for someone on a singles cruise, but Warren didn’t want to pry. Fletcher seemed guarded at times.

  They kissed, and Warren finally got up the encouragement to touch Fletcher. He caressed the ripples of Fletcher’s muscles. He lowered his hand into the water, never leaving contact with Fletcher’s skin as Warren’s hands roamed his body.