Amber was learning she had to let many things go with him. He was stubborn and used to getting what he wanted. But besides the spoiled portion of him, she saw the natural born leader coursing through his veins. It was evident in the way he talked and carried himself. Even the situations he got into gave way to the alpha within him. And because of that she was smitten…utterly smitten.
Coming back to the present, she posed the question that had been on her mind for the last hour. “Babe,” she felt awkward calling him that, but figured she’d get used to it. “How long will we be out here?”
Rocking her softly back and forth he replied, “Until you want to go back home. We can stay for a while if you want.”
She nodded, casting her eye on the grand yacht. He had only recently begun to dote on her, fulfilling her heart’s desires until she ran out of ideas for things. This was her favorite. She loved the water, the salty air, and nature’s wide variety of color. It was very inspirational for her paintings. Too bad she didn’t have her easel with her, or she would’ve painted the outlying scene, adding her own fantasy flare to liven it up.
Spinning around in his dominant embrace, she faced him. His aqua button-up shirt flapped open, revealing a large scar marring a once perfect chest. But it still looked of marble, smooth and solid despite the months of healing.
She pressed her body up to him, her exotic dark skin almost shimmering in the sunlight. She flattered the gold strapless bikini she wore, her perky breasts uplifted towards the heavens.
The closeness of his hard body enticed her sexuality, causing the lioness in her to awaken. She reached up in response to the call, rising on tiptoes to bite his lower lip. Nibbling softly, she giggled, kissing him playfully again and again.
Patiently waiting to speak, and soaking in the affection, he posed the question. “Are you quite done?” he mused, a spark of mischief engulfing his eyes. He was looking down upon her, his heart beating harder to love’s persuasive vibrations. It was something he had given in to a little while ago. Now he just went with the flow.
“I’ll probably never be done,” she said softly, her breath hot on his skin. As she breathed in, his cologne filled her nose, drowning her in latent temptation. The entire moment would’ve been perfect if it hadn’t been interrupted by one of the crew members. Yes, Charles had his own staff to run things. The size of his boat was too enormous for one person to man alone.
Clarice was her name. She was a petite little French female who spoke with a perfect accent and wore her hair in long light brown waves. It almost seemed as if Charles had picked her up right off the streets of Paris. She liked to wear Eiffel tower earrings and the perfume enveloping her had to be from France. It was unlike any Amber had ever smelled. But when her fragrance overpowered even Charles, it was something to be remembered.
When she spoke, it was almost poetic. “Monsieur,” her hands held two wine glasses, both filled with rose colored bubbling champagne. “Votre champagne.” She smiled, knowing he understood her.
“Ah, oui…Merci beaucoup pour le champagne Mademoiselle Clarice.” He spewed out French as Amber’s jaw dropped.
When Clarice left, her navy blue dress suit disappearing back into the sliding glass doors of the cabin, Amber turned to her boyfriend. “Since when do you speak French?”
He laughed, holding out a glass to her while shrugging his shoulders. “I dabble a little here or there. When you have money, it’s very easy to learn a few French words. It’s a culture that appreciates upper class.”
Accepting the glass, she mumbled. “Of course, which is why they always have their snobby ass noses up in the air like they’re better than everyone else.”
Forgetting that Clarice could be nearby, her eyes darted to the doorway where she disappeared. Inhaling a breath of relief that she hadn’t overheard, she took a sip of champagne. She let the tingling bubbles coat her mouth, swishing it elegantly back her throat.
Charles stared at her expectantly, taking a sip from his own goblet.
“What,” she pried, wondering why he was looking at her with such anticipation.
“Nothing,” he said, leaning his face closer towards her.
He leaned down, elbows on the side railing of the boat that out looked the water. Their cabin was higher up, protected by sliding glass doors, which allowed for an exquisite view.
“Mm,” she squinted her eyes untrustingly. “I don’t know about this,” she clearly voiced her mistrust.
Looking into in her glass she fell into a state of mind between reality and non-reality. It was as if she were looking without really seeing.