“My boat is right there. I’ll take you on board, we’ll make a few calls, and then I’ll take you back to shore.” He points his finger at the boat he is talking about.
Leah looks over and I know her mouth is open just as wide as mine is.
He is taking us to the yacht.
Yes, the yacht.
The sex yacht.
Holy cannoli.
“Ems, we are so going with him.”
chapter THREE
My eyes are bugging out of my head as I stare back at the American who saved me. Is this the guy we saw having crazy freaky sex yesterday?
Flashbacks of an ass pumping and grinding replay in my head. Looking at the guy in front me, he’s certainly in shape but he seems much larger than the man I saw through the binoculars. If this man in front of me were on top of a woman I wouldn’t have been able to see her at all. He would have engulfed her. Clearly my depth perception is off.
I’m surprised, really. He doesn’t seem like the dirty sex kind. I mean, yeah, I just met him, but he is really quite . . . heroic.
I can’t believe it’s taken this long for me to appreciate what he did. A complete stranger dove into the water and saved me from drowning.
“Thank you,” I say, entirely too late.
Even with the low roar of the engine he can hear me clearly.
“Just doing my job,” he says.
I look at him, puzzled by his answer. “Sorry about your wallet. Hope nothing was ruined.”
“Nothing that can’t be replaced,” he says, offering his free hand that is not driving the boat. “Devon.”
I shake it back, awkwardly from my seated position. “I’m Emma. And this is my sister, Leah.”
“Definitely had you pegged for sisters. You look exactly alike.”
Leah smiles at the comment and shakes his hand as well. “Were you hoping to see the Blue Grotto?”
“I can see it another time.”
Leah and I don’t have a chance to feel terrible for causing Devon to change his plans because we are quickly approaching the yacht and our gazes are drawn elsewhere.
OMEGA.
The name appears in large type across the starboard side written in black over an omega symbol.
Two grand staircases line the back of the boat. In between the staircases is an area, hidden from us yesterday, where a rectangular pool sits on a covered deck.
We circle and wind around, getting a closeup view. The ship is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like a new-age luxury yacht. Almost the length of a football field, the bottom half is all black with two upper decks that look like they’re made of steel.
Three quarters through the boat, there’s a break in the ship’s middle deck to reveal an open seating area, shaded by an upper deck bridge on the third level. Looking up, I see a helicopter parked up top.
There are two garages open in the foreground. Instead of parking the boat we’re on in the garage, Devon pulls up beside an open docking area.
Slowing the engine, he skillfully idles up to the dock, and a much smaller man in a white uniform holds out his hands, helping Leah and I exit the speedboat onto the yacht. Devon follows us as the smaller man switches places with him to park the boat in the garage.
Leah and I follow Devon into the outside seating area on the lowest deck. It looks like a resort, with cabana-style lounge chairs of teak and white surrounding the pool. There is a bar and a dining area as well.
