Filthy Beautiful Forever(11)

Just the idea of being on a boat with him brings images of that night back to me. I wonder if he’s thinking about it again, too.

He looks down at me. We stand a foot apart, but there’s a desire in his eyes to move closer. To be alone with him on his yacht sounds delicious. I think of his perfectly built adult body taking command and riding me and feel a throb between my legs.

I swallow, and remind myself that he invited me to go with him and his girlfriend. “That would be fun,” I say.

He smiles and his eyes flit down my body briefly, making my cheeks flush. He didn’t look at Tatianna that way. In fact, during dinner they’d hardly exchanged a look, let alone talked to each other. I have to wonder if he’s happy with her. I mean he must be, they live together. But this evening at dinner, he didn’t seem happy, at least not with her.

“Night,” he says.

“See you tomorrow.”

I close the door and my head is spinning. My pulse racing just from the thrill of being near him. I fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. He may not seem overly excited about the promise we made each other when we were ten, but he does seem genuinely happy to see me. It won’t hurt if I stay a few days. I roll over and dig in my bag—which is still on the mammoth bed—and pull out my laptop, opening it up.

Maybe I can look for a job here. If he’s really with Tatianna, I can’t expect him to put me up forever. I need an exit strategy.

Just in case.





Chapter Five

Collins





I park my car in the marina lot and lead the way toward the docks. Tatianna's eyes are downcast on her phone, while Mia's are wide and her neck is craning to take in every ounce of her surroundings.

“Oh wow, this is…” She chews on her lip, searching for the word.

I know this is much different from how we grew up, but I don't want her to feel intimidated. “I have a thing for boats.” I grin at her and wait for the double meaning in my comment to hit. Her cheeks flush pink and my dick throbs eagerly at the memory of her tight little body. I'm thankful for the cover of my aviator-style sunglasses. “We'll have fun today,” I add, recovering.

“Yes.” She swallows and glances at Tatianna, who is following closely behind us, but absorbed in something on her phone as she so often is lately.

“This is her,” I say, pointing up ahead to where the sleek, white-hulled vessel rests in the water. She's big—but not obnoxiously so. Only seventy-feet, which is actually on the small side for a yacht. But she sleeps eight guests, in four private cabins, which is plenty big for my recreational use.

The staff has her all ready for us. The chrome fixtures have been polished and are sparkling in the sunlight, and I can see up on the main deck that the lounge chairs have been outfitted with pillows and towels. I offer Tatianna a hand and she climbs aboard. I glance back to see what's keeping Mia. She's still standing on the dock, her attention captured by something at the stern.

“Mia?” I climb down the steps and go to her.

She's staring at the purple cursive lettering I had painted at the stern, just above the swim platform.

“You named your boat Gremlin?” she asks with astonishment in her voice.

I shrug. “It seemed fitting.” When I bought my boat, I could think of no better name than after my friend who I shared so many good times with—one of the most significant happening on a boat. Her eyes widen and find mine as the meaning behind the name sinks in.

“Come on.” I take her hand and lead her toward the stairs. “I want to show you around.”

She squeezes my hand, and then follows me up on board.

Every inch of the yacht seems to amaze her, and I love the giddy excitement she openly displays. It's refreshing. She seems to like the theater room with its big screen and comfy reclining loveseats the best. “The intent behind it is for rainy days, but we have so few of those in Southern California, that it's never been used. We mostly stay out on the deck,” I explain.

“I'm sure you and Tatianna come and stay the night here just for the fun of it, sometimes, right? Movie and popcorn night. That would be fun.”

My brow crinkles. “No, actually we've never done that.”

Mia’s confusion is written all over her face.

I decide to continue the tour. Showing her the bedrooms feels too intimate, especially given what happened between us the last time we were below deck together, so I merely point and continue walking.

Mia shuffles behind, her gaze bouncing around each room to absorb every detail.

No matter what is going on in my life, or at work, I always looked forward to Sundays. Fresh ocean air and blue skies are good for the soul.

I guide her back upstairs. The breeze is just beginning to pick up as we motor out of the harbor. The deck is outfitted with various couches and chairs arranged for conversation, there's a hot tub off to one side and then plenty of lounge chairs with fluffy cushions for sunbathing. That's where Tatianna has already stationed herself. As usual she's removed her top—her small pointy nipples are staring straight up at the sun. She sits up when she notices our arrival.