Four Nights at Sea Page 13

  “Grayson. Pleased to meet you all.” Grayson rose from his seat, shook everyone’s hands, and was lowering himself back to his seat when two women approached the table. He remained standing and greeted them.

  * * *

  Charlie welcomed the female company. The testosterone at the table was growing thick, so she also welcomed the sense of balance.

  A willowy brunette, wearing a sleek designer dress that must have cost what Charlie paid for monthly rent, introduced herself as Emma. She then introduced her very sweet-looking best friend Grace. Unlike Emma, Grace was blond and wore a simple linen dress and a thin silver chain hanging between her breasts.

  “Cute,” Quinn said. “We have a Grace and a Grayson at this table.”

  A fifth man stepped up. “And a Tyler.” He gave the table a casual wave and folded his large bulky frame into a seat. “Good evening. Nice to meet you.”

  “Good evening,” they replied in a synchronized greeting.

  Tyler didn’t look like a Tyler to Charlie. He looked like a Jax or a Chief. She imagined him parking his Harley at the port and trudging up the gangway with a black leather backpack slung on his shoulder. Even though he wore a traditional white button-down shirt, it was rolled at his forearms and revealed non-traditional body art. His deep voice was proper and courteous, and more than anything, it demanded respect.

  When the group settled into casual conversation, Charlie watched as Tyler’s penetrating gaze traveled down Grace’s body. Grace must have felt him looking, for she met his gaze and flushed. She curled her shoulders into her body, but Tyler gave a quick, almost imperceptible, shake of his head and narrowed his gaze. Grace immediately straightened her back. He grinned his approval.

  The man had keen and forceful dark eyes, and while she tried to keep her tablemates’ names straight, Charlie couldn’t help but be captivated by the silent dynamics between the stoic Tyler and somehow wounded Grace. How Charlie knew the other woman was wounded was a mystery, but she knew.

  Two empty chairs remained, yet the conversation ensued and the itinerary dissection colored her mind with options. When it came to sharing their reasons for being there, following Quinn and Luis’s lead, Charlie said she was there to enjoy the weekend with Ford. They were exploring the possibilities of their new relationship. It wasn’t a complete lie, just a stretch of the truth.

  “We don’t need to be on this sailing for me to enjoy my time with you,” Ford added. “I’d enjoy you no matter where.”

  Tyler studied them without bothering to voice his observation, but she could practically feel him scanning her mind for her true thoughts. Not that she had much experience with identifying the personality, but Tyler had to be a Dominant who lived the lifestyle every moment of every day. And from the way he’d soothed Grace’s nervousness, he was an effective Dominant. A good Dom.

  She made a mental note to do some further research into the specifics of a Dom/sub daily relationship. She’d even ask Tyler for an interview, if she could summon the courage and he allowed it.

  “We’re here to celebrate Grace losing two hundred pounds of dead weight,” Emma announced, flaring her hands to feature her friend. “Her drawn-out divorce was final on Monday.”

  “You opted for a single’s cruise?” Grayson asked.

  “Singles and kink,” Emma corrected. “It’s my present to her. She needs to have fun. My BFF hasn’t had fun in over five years.”

  Charlie wasn’t about to touch that one. The emphasis on fun was obvious. From the embarrassed drop of Grace’s gaze and the pink spreading over her body, Charlie guessed the newly single woman was a born-again virgin.

  “Fun she’ll have,” Tyler assured, and Grace’s pink blush deepened to red. He stared at the woman until her gaze lifted and met his, which didn’t take long. With a slight nod, he smiled. Reaching for the wine list, Tyler called for the sommelier and ordered two bottles of the Dom Perignon Jeff Koons Rose Vintage.

  Charlie knew about the elite champagne selection from the days she’d subjected herself to family parties. She also knew that the two bottles were more expensive than the cost of her cabin. Wow. Just wow. She hadn’t expected that sort of sophistication from a man with bulging muscles, an inch-long scar over his right brow, and tattoos that could have been featured on that tattoo artist reality show. The server wasted no time returning with the bottles and pouring the bubbly with practiced flair.

  “To celebrate Grace’s spirit and her rosy future,” Tyler said, raising his glass in a toast and inviting the table to do the same.

  “Thank you,” Grace said in a soft voice, lifting the flute to her lips and sipping on the pink champagne. “It’s delicious. Just beautiful.”

  “As you are,” Tyler added. “Congratulations, sweet Grace. Wishing you all your heart and body desire.”

  The group echoed the congratulations and an easy camaraderie settled among them. Ford suggested his favorites from the aphrodisiac menu. The broiled oysters sounded divine. Charlie went for them. For the entrée, he suggested either the Southern Oyster Casserole or the Lobster Risotto. Charlie loved lobster and wasn’t about to miss the chance to taste the artful mix of her favorite dish with hot chilies, pomegranate, and vanilla bean. Just the description sounded orgasmic. But she exercised a little bit of control and decided she’d skip what sounded like the most mouth-watering dessert. Her hips wouldn’t allow for champagne, risotto, and a dessert of cardamom-laced dark chocolate truffles with white chocolate ice cream. She’d order the fruit platter, which came with a dark chocolate dipping sauce. She’d skip the sauce. Save a few calories.

  “Grayson, what brings you aboard?” Ford asked, doing the job Charlie had lost sight of while being too busy taking in all the sensuous details of the evening.

  “It’s a long story,” Grayson dismissed.

  “It always is,” Emma added, a genuine smile on her face. “We have all of dinner to hear it.”

  Feeling unsettled for growing lax with her assignment, Charlie squeezed Ford’s hand. He immediately turned and kissed her. Right there. In front of everyone. His tongue swept away the apprehension, and his undivided attention made butterflies dance in her belly—and lower.

  “Thank you,” she breathed against his mouth.

  “My pleasure,” he whispered for only her to hear, licking gently across her lips. “You’ll have more than you need, sooner than you know.”

  “Well, it’s not as exciting as Grace’s motive for sailing away, and it’s not as inspiring as the two couples so clearly in love in our presence, but I’ll admit to wanting that connection with someone special,” Grayson said, using air quotes around special.

  Appearing traditional and reserved, Grayson did stick out in the crowd.

  “First it was school that ruled my life. Now it’s work.” Grayson gulped down the remainder of his champagne and raised his shoulders. “I can’t seem to find the right woman. I want someone real. Not someone looking for a sugar daddy or a free ride due to my career choice.”

  “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Emma interjected. “It seems like potential partners are evaluating net worth rather than true compatibility. But you don’t need to be worried about sugar daddy status. You’re not old enough.”

  It turned out that Grayson was only in his twenties and five years younger than Emma. Upon hearing that detail, Emma quieted. She scooted closer to Grace, and Charlie could swear she saw disappointment flicker in Emma’s eyes. Which probably meant Emma didn’t consider it proper to date a younger man.

  “Age is just a number,” Charlie blurted. “It doesn’t define a person.”

  “Maybe,” Emma said, looking at her. “But there are certain stages in one’s life that are more defined than others. Certain milestones that come naturally in our twenties or thirties or beyond.”

  Grayson shook his head, but didn’t seem convinced. “I agree with Charlie. Age is just a number.”

  The young man’s assertive tone was a surprise. Charlie’s dinner c
ompanions were definitely an interesting bunch. They also seemed to have been purposefully grouped by the organizers to meet certain criteria. Maybe that was what the registration questionnaire had been all about? If so, Lovers Sail did a great job of matchmaking.

  “Hello, kids,” a silver haired gentleman said. “Sorry we’re late. My bride and I got carried away celebrating our fifty-third wedding anniversary and lost track of time. Hope we didn’t inconvenience you.”

  “Not at all,” Ford said, indicating the empty chairs. “Welcome. Happy anniversary.”

  The remainder of the table congratulated the older couple, and quickly learned that Maggy and Sparky had married straight out of high school. “Well, after my Maggy graduated. It was an exercise in patience,” he explained.

  “Sparky waited three years,” Maggy elaborated. Three years after they’d shared a dance at the local community center’s Valentine’s Ball to kiss her. Waited a total of four years to escort her to her senior prom and ask for her hand in marriage. Of course he’d spoken with her father prior to pinning her corsage. Their story seemed like a fairy tale.

  Unfortunately for Charlie, she knew she was no Cinderella. With a sigh, she reluctantly accepted the temporary fairy tale relationship with Ford, settling her shoulder against his and relishing the feel of his fingers stroking her thigh. No question they were physically compatible. Probably more than physically. But he had been clear. He wasn’t the relationship type. She was about to amend her original statement about exploring their relationship when their appetizers arrived and the scent of the wonderfully dressed broiled oysters had her mouth watering.

  Before starting on his own, Ford offered her an oyster. “Just looking out for my own agenda,” he said with a wink, sliding the treat past her lips. They exchanged tastes of their main courses and tangoed in a private dance of sensual promises while Charlie struggled to remain engaged in the conversation at the table.

  “Is it the oysters or is it what you think I have coming for you?” He glanced at her nipples, clearly outlined against the black halter top, and let his gaze linger long enough for her to feel the tingles of his visual caress. But the physical touch of his fingers smoothing up her thigh to the juncture between her legs did more than make her nipples hard. The sweet spot between her legs throbbed with need and her heart pounded against her ribs.

  “Here?” she breathed.

  “Wherever I please,” he said, caressing her bared heat, spreading her moisture and circling around the pulsing bundle of nerves at the top. He continued stroking her, occasionally sliding a finger, then two, into her, only to return his attention to the pulsing bundle of nerves.

  The dessert arrived, and Ford set the fruit platter away, placing his chocolate truffles and ice cream between them. “This one first.”

  Eleven extra pounds, she mouthed.

  The sting of a wet smack sounded in her ears, but no one else seemed to hear it. She bit her lip to stifle her surprise.

  “Don’t deny me,” he warned, pinching her aching clit. “Show me how much you like the truffle between those pink lips and the ice cream melting in your mouth.”

  Charlie’s breath hitched, and she looked around at the other guests wondering if they’d heard and understood his words. With a shaky hand, she picked up the spoon and cut into a dark truffle.

  “I do like it,” she replied, licking at the ice cream and sucking the truffle between her lips. “Really like it.”

  A trill of guitar chords sounded over the dining room’s acoustic system and the servers broke into a festive performance, singing the classic “That’s Amore.” Emma and Grace picked up their napkins and gently twirled them over their heads, encouraging the others to do the same.

  Charlie struggled but followed suit; Ford didn’t. He kept his hand between her legs, stroking his fingers through her moisture and working a smooth and cool object snugly inside her. Suddenly, the toy vibrated to life, heightening her excitement and heating her whole body.

  “The benefit of sailing on a kink cruise is that the promenade has a variety of merchants for our shopping pleasure,” he said, gaining him a few confused glances from their dinner companions. The conversation had nothing to do with shopping. Certainly nothing to do with kink. They’d been discussing the variety of excursions in Cozumel.

  “I guess that makes tax-free shopping less appealing?” Grace offered.

  “Exactly,” Ford agreed. “More time for swimming with dolphins and riding bareback on the beach. I hear that the latter is rather romantic.” He glanced at Charlie, who managed to nod in agreement. Her booked horseback ride was the furthest thing from her mind as she rode the sensations of the tiny vibrator.

  The tremors of ecstasy within her center intensified as Ford withdrew his hand from between her legs, adjusted the speed of the vibe, and let the sensations of the little contraption work. He picked up his napkin with one hand, dropped an arm around her shoulders and sang along with “The Way You Look Tonight” against her ear.

  It was the first time Charlie listened to the words in the classic song, and with Ford’s insistence that she breathe and enjoy, her climax crept closer and closer.

  “It’s not fair,” she said softly. “My body is on overload.”

  “I know.” Ford tilted her face to his.

  “I can’t control it,” she argued.

  “I know,” he repeated. “Isn’t it freeing to not have control?” His hand reappeared between her legs and his thumb circled in ecstasy. “Come for me, chère,” he breathed, sealing his lips to hers. “Now.”

  She shattered in orgasmic bliss, moaning her release into his mouth. Pleasure raced through her body and exploded around her. The world faded, she wasn’t sure how long the climax rolled over her, but then the sound of applause signaled the end of the finale and she sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself back to reality.

  “Did you enjoy dessert?” Ford asked, trailing wet kisses slowly up her neck.

  “It was decadent,” Charlie said, worrying her lower lip and not fighting the trance her body had sunk into. “Pure decadence.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ford’s contentment faded as confusion clouded Charlie’s eyes and her lips tightened in disappointment. It took him a moment to recognize the guilt and concern shadowing her face, but once he had, annoyance balled in his gut and he wasn’t able to concentrate on the small talk happening at the table.

  Charlie had angled her body away from him and refused to make eye contact. It didn’t take much to see the effort she was exerting in order to renounce the physical euphoria she had relinquished control to only moments earlier. She immersed herself in casual conversation, refusing to play any longer. With the staff’s performance over and dessert done, the guests’ focus was the night’s events.

  She smiled and nodded, her back stiff and her knees clamped together, charming as heck with the other guests. The senator’s wife image was back.

  Why the swing?

  Who had done this to her?

  The majority of the table was heading to Always Kiss Me Good-Night, which Maggy assured the “youngsters” was the best advice she could offer on how to make a relationship work. “However, since that has always been a steadfast rule in our marriage, Sparky and I are going to pass on this particular event,” she explained. “We’ve decided to attend the Nautical and More Knots seminar.”

  Ford squeezed Charlie’s hand, and she turned to look at him, seemingly surprised that he’d ask for the kiss.

  “It works both ways,” he said, leaning in. “We’ll catch up with you,” he told the others. Waving over his shoulder, Ford looked only at Charlie. He waited until they were alone, no one else around for distractions.

  “What happened?” Smoothing the lines edging the corners of her mouth, he skimmed his thumb over her lips and felt the tightening in his gut once again. This woman did things to him he’d rarely experienced before. It was all he could do not to demand she surrender to his desires to throw all other re
sponsibilities away and just be together. Strangely enough, his desires weren’t limited to the physical. “Why did you withdraw?”

  “It wasn’t a withdrawal,” she said, closing her fingers over his, and pulling his hand into her lap. “The conversation reminded me that I did not come on the cruise to indulge myself—no matter how delightful and tempting the indulgence. You, my sexy Cajun, make my head spin, so I need to compartmentalize my thoughts and actions. I really should get back to the cabin and—”

  “Don’t go there,” he warned. His chest burned and heat spread up his neck. “What the hell, Charlie? Why not indulge yourself?”

  “I have work to do.”

  “I don’t buy it,” he said, dropping her hand and running his fingers through his hair. “You were handed, on a silver platter, more than a little material at dinner tonight. The guests sitting at our table come from all walks of life. Their experiences, motives, and wishes vary. And if I’m not mistaken, there are plenty of sparks already flying among them. Don’t use your work as an excuse to pull away.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and stared at her thumbs, which she twirled with great intensity. “It’s just that I lost track. I don’t do that.”

  “What don’t you do? Allow yourself a little decadence?” Ford pressed her to acknowledge what he’d seen in her eyes. She wanted it. Craved it. Even admitted to it. Yet, something held her back.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “I lost my head and let pleasure consume me. I made a mistake.” Her thumbs picked up speed. “I pride myself on being practical and even keeled. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I can’t go around dismissing everything I’ve worked so hard for over the past few years for a few moments of stolen pleasure.”

  She hadn’t given him the wrong impression. She’d allowed the real Charlie to surface. She’d let her guard down and guilt had crawled into the tiny space of truth she’d permitted.

  Ford rubbed his hand over his chin and shook his head. He’d known Charlie less than twelve hours, and in that insanely short amount of time, he’d tossed his agenda into the air and let it fall at her feet in tiny pieces. Studying the confusion she attempted to mask on her pretty face, his annoyance grew. Annoyance that someone had instilled doubt and denial in such a beautiful woman. Annoyance that it mattered to him and she affected him on such a seismic scale. Annoyance that he felt at the mercy of the petite blonde. What the fuck was wrong with him?