“Don’t draw attention to yourself,” says a sharp voice behind me.
I turn with a sigh. “It’s called being friendly. Something you might learn from.”
“I’m not here to make friends.” Luca is wearing that horrific suit again, and cheap dark sunglasses, although the shades do make him look sexy. If only the man understood clothes.
“You should wear shorts if you wanna blend,” I tell him in my most-bored voice, and turn back to lean on the rail and watch the definitely-more-fun stuff going on in port.
“I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Behave yourself until I do.” I hear him walking closer to me and then his hand slides between my thighs, cupping my balls under my Speedos. I can’t help myself; I moan and push into his hand. He leans over me and his lips brush my ear. “If youdobehave, you’ll get a reward again tonight.”
I turn my head a little, eyes shut. “And if I don’t behave? If I make a break for it and beg for asylum in the islands?”
His hand tightens up around my nuts, not enough to be painful, but not comfortable either. “Then I will find you and drag you back to the boat, and leave you tied up in the smallest bathroom on board for the rest of the voyage.”
He totally would, too, I think to myself as he walks away. But I can’t help finding the idea weirdly hot, and I’m still hard by the time I see Luca walking down the dock ten minutes later. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a tee, just like I told him to.
He looks as sexy as ever.
I watch him until he disappears into the back streets leading away from the port.
* * *
I wander downbelow deck and find the crew, just for someone to talk to. The deckhands are gathered in a tiny room, smoking weed and cigarettes and playing cards like something out of an old movie, but they look so startled and uncomfortable to see me that I just back out again, apologizing. Nunzio’s wife hustles me out of the kitchen insistently, and according to her, Nunzio himself has gone ashore on her orders with a shopping list to replenish the cupboards.
I guess I could go bug the captain, but he’s a wizened old sea dog who has no interest in making conversation.
I’msotempted to sneak off the yacht. I could swan dive off the back and swim ashore, and no one would even notice. But the dirty promise of Luca’s hand on my balls and lips against my ears keep me tied here.
I want him. And if I flit out of my cage, I know it’ll end badly for me. And there’d be no more sex, because I know Luca meant what he said. I’m starting to identify hisI’m real damn serioustone from hisI can be pushed a littletone, and it was definitely the former when he threatened to truss me up in a bathroom. So I mope back down to the little cabin I found the other day and stare out the porthole, waiting and watching for my darling husband to return home from work. I have a good view of the port, and it’s kind of like watching TV.
Engrossing.
I don’t know how long it is before the door opens and I jump, startled. It’s one of the card-playing crew members. I’ve seen him around, swabbing the decks or whatever it is that they do, and I’ve never seen a crew hand so wobbly on his feet as this guy has been the last few days, only now he seems to have finally got his sea legs.
He looks at me. I look at him.
“Whatchoo doin’ in here?” he grouses.
“Looking out the window. What areyoudoing in here?”
He stares at me for a second, his big dumb cow eyes playing over my face and then down my body, like he’s checking me out. But he’s not checking me out, or at least, I don’t get that frisson I usually do when a man is eyeballing me.
He’s still holding one hand behind his back, and I stand, alarm bells sounding in my head. “What are you doing?” I demand.
Slowly, he brings out the hand from behind his back, and I hold my breath as he does. This might be it. The moment all my problems stop with a bullet to the face, a slash to the throat.
But in his hand it’s not a gun or a knife; it’s a fucking ginormous spliff and a lighter. I laugh, too loud and too long as usual, and the guy looks disconcerted.
“Boss said no drugs,” he says, and it takes a second for me to realize he means Luca. “So I came down here to make sure we’re cool. Peace offering from the crew?” He holds out the spliff to me.
“Boss ain’t here right now, and I won’t tell,” I purr. It’s exactly what I need, a nice mellow high—something natural, not like that prescription shit that makes my memories fragment. I can handle myself on weed. Luca will never even notice I’ve smoked up.
I know I promised to ditch the drugs, but this isn’t the same thing at all, right? This isnatural. Just like having a drink at the end of a hard day.
“What’s your name?” I ask the guy.
“Tommy.”
“Tommy, I think you’re my new best friend. Pull up a chair.” I sit back down on the lower bunk and he sits on the opposite one.
