He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples, as if that would be enough to push the wayward thoughts out of his head. His cock had been hard enough to cut glass before, but now it felt like it might have shriveled up into his body. Which wasn’t very sexy. Of course, responding like a scared child just because the boat didn’t appear to be moving wasn’t very sexy, either. He had once gone fishing—a lake didn’t overwhelm him like the sea did—and his guide told him sometimes it was best to just cut line and let the fish swim away. Sometimes, you didn’t have any choice. He had the feeling that he had just cut line on Nick. And the poor guy probably wouldn’t even be able to find anybody to make the cruise worthwhile. Unless he started hitting on the bartender or something.