Page 40 of Need to Know

“I’ve wanted to kiss you properly…like…my whole fucking life,” Jack admitted as he manoeuvred us and pushed me against the cold tile of the steaming shower. He ravaged my mouth like he was eating something delectable and addictive. I’d never experienced such wanton carnality. My dick was a bar of steel against Jack’s soapy abdomen, and I loved it, the hard-throbbing feeling of rightness, of being powerful and masculine.

It was hard to compare sex with Jack and sex with Erik without belittling the years we spent together. We’d had a good sex life for a while, I just hadn’t realized it wasn’t enough for him, and with how Jack lit me up, I’d not understood what I truly needed. Now I knew that I deserved passion like a meteor hitting the moon. I deserved to be taken apart, kiss by smouldering kiss, by a man who wanted to give me pleasure, not just take it. Suddenly, Jack stopped kissing me. He pulled away, and cupped my face.

“Hey, handsome, come back, I lost you there for a sec,” he cooed softly, his gentle eyes searching mine.

How did he know? “Sorry, sorry, I was in my head for a moment.” Honestly, it shocked me how in-tune Jack was with my moods. “If this is too soon, I’ll understand. I don’t want to rush you into anything,” he said, placing a soft paternal kiss on my brow. I pivoted, turning us around, slamming Jack to the tiled wall, caging him in with my body, my hands either side of his shoulders.

“Don’t you fucking dare think you’re going to get away! I’m on a promise, sunshine.”

“Is that right,” Jack preened. He bucked his hips and pushed his erection against mine. “I never said anything about wanting to get away.” He leaned in then, kissed and sucked at the spot behind my ear that drove me crazy. Then, he twisted and squeezed my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Darts of pleasure shot straight to my balls. I gripped his wet hair, pulled his head up and dove back in, taking Jack’s mouth. Jack explored the contours of my body with light fingers, mapping the muscles of my shoulders, arms, my pecs, and down the ridges of my abdomen to where he gathered both of our dicks in his long-fingered hand. He pumped us together, the pleasure making me cry out, unrestrained. I cupped his cheek with one hand, and rested his brow on mine. We stared into one another’s eyes, resolute, and unafraid.

“Yeah, that’s it! We feel so good together. Squeeze harder,” I encouraged.

“Just taking the edge off, babe. When we come, I’m not done with you,” he ground out, as he rhythmically pumped our cocks. “Main course and dessert are still to—” Then his body stiffened, “—Come,” he announced. And good god! I’d thought Jack’s simulated orgasms on-screen were damn hot, but in real life, Jack finding release was spectacular. The desperate, glassy look in his eyes when he met his orgasm was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen and, honestly, it may sound dumb, but I got a little choked up and emotional. Maybe it was the effects of the drugs?

Jack’s hand was shuttling on my dick, slicked with his release. “Come on, handsome, let’s get you over the edge,” he said. I was a live wire—sparks of sensation and pleasure darting through me. Within seconds he pulled me through a knee-trembling climax and hot ropes of semen coated his chest. I sagged against my lover, my head resting on his shoulder as I caught my breath. He released his choke hold on our spent dicks and wrapped me up in an embrace, keeping me upright. Water rained down on us, washing our jizz away, along with the sweat and anxiety of our time imprisoned on the ship hotel.

“That…was…just the starter?” I quizzed. “Fucking hell!”

Jack chuckled with satisfaction.

****

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jack

We dried off and ignoring the pjs, shrugged into the fluffy white towelling robes and slippers provided by the hotel. Nate then made a bee-line for the pile of clothes he’d left discarded on the lounge floor. I swiped up the laundry bag filled with our valuables and poured the contents of the bag onto the coffee table. Nate had a sliver money clip with a thousand Euros; whereas I kept my cash in a monogrammed black leather wallet my mum gave me for Christmas.

“We need to put our cash, cards and passports in the safe,” Nate advised as he collected his phone and the Faraday card holder from his jeans pocket. We put our dirty clothes into the laundry bag, and then using the concierge tablet in the entrance hall, I notified reception of our laundry pick up, and our measurements, then I left the bag outside the room door.

“You should put the chips in the safe, too,” I suggested, picking our passports, cards, and cash from the small pile of our belongings. Nate removed the fake bank card from beneath the insole of his trainer. “Gimmie a look,” I said my hand out. Nate passed the card to me and I peeled back the vinyl to display the chips. Using his iPhone camera, Nate took several photos of the chips before I covered them up, protecting them again.

“Where’s the safe?” Nate asked.

“Didn’t Vogel say it was behind a flower painting?” I’d seen three flower paintings in the suite. I moved from room to room looking at the wall art and, “Aha! Found it,” I called. “It’s here in the dining room.” The dining room décor was dramatic, with crimson walls, black furniture, and a huge oil painting of Irises in a vase. The frame was hinged like a door, with a magnet clasp to ensure it remained closed. I stood aside as Nate opened it to see the hi-spec safe installed in the wall, the door unlocked. Pasted onto the back of the canvas were printed instructions on how to reset the safe. We read the instructions and it comforted me to discover that this model used dual password and biometrics to secure its contents. I passed our cash, cards, and passports to Nate and he put our items and the chips inside the safe. We reset it using a password number we both knew and then added Nate’s thumb print biometrics. Nate was the only person who could access it now and that was fine by me, because I wasn’t planning on letting him out of my sight for the next couple of days.

We returned to the lounge, and with my belly leading the way I went straight for the food trolley while Nate slumped on the couch with his phone in hand, his thumbs typing furiously. We hadn’t eaten anything but a few chicken pieces last night and as a high-energy person I needed a lot of food to fuel me. I pushed the trolley closer to the coffee table. “What can I get you?” I asked. Nate was reading something on his phone screen but absently replied, “Oh, yeah…A little of everything.” I loaded two plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, mushrooms, toast, and then poured and doctored tea for both of us. I placed the food, drinks, and cutlery on the coffee table.

“What time is it?”

“Coming up to nine-thirty.”

“Find anything out?” I asked as I joined Nate on the couch.

“Hmm…Did you know there’s a worldwide shortage of computer RAM and microprocessor chips?” he said sounding adorably nerdy.

“No, I did not. How fascinating!” I replied dryly, picking up my plate of food and cutlery.

“It’s been going on for years. RAM is in everything from phones and laptops to smart washing machines, and fridges. The demand outstrips supply, so the big tech companies are pre-ordering wafers of chips years in advance!”

“What about our chips?”

Nate was silent for a moment, his finger swiping up the phone screen as I dug into my breakfast.

Then he said, “I uploaded a photo of our chip for a reverse image search. The only mention of chips that look like ours is on a Reddit forum page for tech nerds.” He paused for another moment, scrolling. I buttered a couple of slices of toast and had inhaled them both before Nate spoke again.

“There’s an anonymous post with photos of processor chips that look like the ones in the credit card.”