“What? I’m just letting you know in advance that I’m a very oral person.”
Tabitha’s color was high, which meant she wasn’t unaffected by what she’d just done.
Neither was he.
She winked, turned on her heel, and swinging her hips, headed toward the mess.
“Damn. I am in such trouble,” Spencer mumbled to himself, trying to adjust his bent cock before hurrying after her.
After a modicum of success, he caught up with Tabitha, grabbed up her hand again, and they walked the rest of the way together, hips bumping.
Spencer couldn’t remember the last time any innuendo-like conversation had turned his dick into tempered steel. He was going to have a difficult time focusing on what he wanted to say, rather than on what might be occurring later.
As they entered the mess, Spencer groaned. Pietro had been at work. Set up at the end of one long table was something out of Lady and the Tramp; a red and white checkered tablecloth. Multiple candles lit all around.
Tabitha laughed. “Your friend?” she asked liltingly.
“Yup. I’m going to kill him.”
“Not on my behalf,” Tabitha countered. “I think it’s sweet.”
Spencer looked around. It was clear they were the last ones grabbing food for the evening meal. Most all the seats in the mess were either empty or their occupants were just finishing up, giving them sly looks as they emptied their trays.
“Okay. No killing. I’ll only short-sheet his bunk,” Spencer chuckled with a shake of his head.
Together, he and Tabitha walked up to the opening into the kitchen where Spencer could see the cook scraping down the grill.
“Jim,” he called out. “Is there anything left for a couple of hungry, late-arrivals?”
The cook turned with a grin. “Yup. I was told you’d eventually be in.” He winked. “And that I was to make sure I loaded you and the pretty lady up on carbs. I’ve been keeping your plates warm.” He went over to a big oven, opened it up, and using a cloth, drew out two plates that were piled high.
“What the hell, Jim? Did you give us everything you had left over?” Spencer chuckled.
“Well, the extras have to go somewhere,” Jim shrugged. “Might as well be in your bottomless pit of a stomach.”
Tabitha had no problem accepting the largesse. “Awesome. Thank you. I’m starved.”
She nudged her way around Spencer and grabbed the bigger of the two plates.
“Snooze, you lose,” she winked at Spencer, and got a huge laugh from Jim.
Spencer, too, was amused, and he didn’t begrudge her the win. That didn’t mean, of course, that he wouldn’t snag some of the food right off her plate while she was or wasn’t looking.
If she didn’t play fair, neither would he.
They took their jazzed-up seats at the end of the table where, luckily, no one sat within earshot. Well, at least notexactearshot. There weren’t many places on a small ship that remained private, but by keeping his voice pitched low, Spencer hoped what he was about to propose stayed confidential, because…
He hadn’t, as of yet, told the captain of his plans to opt out of renewing his contract with the Merchant Marine. Not that Cap wasn’t aware that Spencer had been on the fence; simply that no decision had been made.
Up until now.
“So, what’s got you equal parts excited and nervous?” Tabitha asked directly, forking up a good-sized bite of pilaf and stuffing it in her mouth.
Spencer silently applauded not only her hearty appetite, but her getting right to the point.
“When I was talking to Buck, I had an epiphany,” he said, spearing a stalk of asparagus and munching it down.
“A good epiphany, if I’m not reading you wrong.” She continued on her plate while keeping one eye on him.
