We’re cautious as we slip past the galley. Only the chef’s in there. We had dinner aboard the boat. The rest of the crew is on deck to serve drinks and indulge whatever whims thosecabrónscome up with. When we get to the stairs at the opposite end from which we came down, we listen intently and can hear the captain and first mate talking.
I inch up the stairs so I can peer into the bridge—the area where the captain controls and steers the boat. We have our devices on silent, so they’ll only flash if they detect something. Of course, they’re going off now, but I expect that. I’m not concerned. There’s a difference between the Coast Guard tracking the boat and the Rizzos doing it because they found out about me.
“Nada.” Nothing.
I whisper to Julián when I return to him. We check out the engine room, but there’s nothing of interest there either.
“We gotta get back up there before anyone wonders why we’re both down here so long. Try to look like you just puked.”
My friend elbows me in the gut before I turn away. We head back up on deck to find my Mediterranean beauty completelynaked now, grinding on another guy’s lap. My stab of jealousy is completely irrational and inappropriate. It doesn’t stop my mind from screamingMINE. When I step forward, my movement catches her attention, shifting her focus to me. I’m certain that’s a moment of guilt I see on her face, but it’s gone so quickly, I wonder if it’s contrived.
Like maybe she’s trying to tempt me even more, perhaps hoping that if I’m jealous, I’ll pay her for a real lap dance. As she finishes the guy’s dance and backs away, he grabs his crotch as though he’s going to jerk off through his pants. But when his other hand reaches for his belt and pulls it open, that’s when I’ve had enough. I’m back at my chair with a few long strides.
“They’re dancers, not hookers. Keep it in your pants.”
“Oh, come on, man. You know she wants it.”
“Don’t be disgusting. They’re dancers, not sex workers.”
“Are you sure? They’re only like one step apart. They came here to dance for a private show. It’s not like they’re at some club on a stage with a pole.” Thepedazo de mierda—piece of shit—looks away from me and back at the brunette beauty. “Hey, sweetheart. I bet for the right amount, you’ve done more than just twerk. It’s her choice, and that’s why we rented the boat anyway. What happens out here is our business and nobody else’s.”
I just might vomit after all. “Do you know how bad that sounds? Are you some kind of fucking predator? Did you bring these ladies out here to trap them?”
“Wait, what? No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Well, that’s what the fuck it sounds like.”
I straighten to my full height and push back my shoulders. It’s not like I slouch or anything. It’s difficult to miss that I’m bigger than the average guy. But when I lift my chin, push back my shoulders, and inhale, it surprises everyone—except for Julián—to see I’m practically the fucking Hulk.
“Petey, shut up before you ruin the night.” Julián barely saves the asshat.
All the men in my family are big guys, taller than what most people would assume for Latinos. We work out twice a day because our jobs can get very physical. It’s also time we spend together as family. We enjoy each other’s company even when we don’t have to be together. But I’m the largest of all the guys by half an inch in height and two inches across the back and chest.
Sometimes, we need to swap clothes. It’s not like I Hulk out in theirs because they’re too small or the other guys look like they’re little kids playing dress-up in mine. I’m just a big dude.
The brunette says something to the douchebag that makes him calm down—he was ready to stand up and face off against me. She comes over to me, and I adjust my chair to angle it away from the douche.
“Thank you for that. I can deal with men who get a little too handsy, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
She glances in the other guy’s direction as I sit. I let her shake her ass at me before she straddles my lap. If we were fucking, it would be reverse cowgirl. I behave myself like you’re supposed to when you get a lap dance at a club. I keep my hands down at my side when I’d love nothing more than to pull her down and have her grind on my dick, which still hasn’t gone down. It was at half-mast while I snooped. That’s because I kept thinking of her. I told myself I was hurrying to avoid getting caught, not because I wanted to get back up here to see her.
“Part of why he got so pissed is that he noticed I was wet. He thought it was because of him.”
The woman’s speaking softly. The only person we’re facing right now is Julián. I’m certain he heard her, but he’s pretending to be on his phone.
“You flatter me,chiquita.”
She just hums her response as she finally lowers her ass to my lap, pressing backward. There’s no way she can’t tell how hard I am now. I don’t know that I’ve ever faced a greater temptation than I am in this moment. But that exchange she had with the guy feels off even more than earlier.
“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth. Holy fuck.”
I saw the flash of fear on the other women’s faces when the organizer of this three-hour tour explained why he chose this outing. The hell he did. It was Julián’s request. It was just the excuse Petey needed to be a perve.
“Thank you.”
What else do I say that won’t make me the perve?
I’ve been around strippers since I was eighteen and started working as a stock boy in our clubs the summer after I graduated high school.
