Hooked (4 page)

Idle thoughts don't always behave. My imagination began to conjure up a ripe little body in a skimpy bikini wrestling a rod taller than she was. I'd met plenty of lady anglers at tournaments and they were just as good as the guys and equally taken with the thrill of the sport. I decided I'd like to share that unforgettable moment when your first big fish leaps out of the water with Lara. I began to imagine what it would be like to teach Lara about the sport and wondered if she'd get as much of a thrill out of it as I did. The thought of her in a bikini, slick with sweat as she fought a fish was a tempting image.

Bass Pro was next door, so I went over and milled around the store for a while. There seemed to be an unusually large number of brown haired girls in there.

I didn't need any new lures, but the Black Barts were too pretty to resist. A few more plastic squid were added to my huge collection. I hoped I'd get lucky enough to lose one to a hungry fish real soon.

The sun was setting behind me as I walked down the pier toward El Lobo. I watched her rock gently, bathed in the pink and orange of sunset. She was as beautiful a boat as ever cut through the Gulfstream. Tomorrow couldn't come quick enough. It was almost insulting to see her bumpers barely grazing the pilings on the dock. She reminded me of a thoroughbred horse at the starting gate.

I headed straight for Mrs. D's stateroom. She'd be itching to get out after a whole afternoon cooped up in there. She chattered in excitement on the other side of the door when she heard my approach and greeted me as if I'd been gone for weeks instead of hours. Her enthusiasm for me never waned.

I reached into my pocket before her quick little hands could get there. She knew I'd have gummi bears in there. I always picked up a good supply of them for the journey at the Bass Pro check out. She greedily popped the first one in her mouth and barely chewed it. "You know you're only getting three," I told her, "I wouldn't gobble them down like that."

But it was always the same. As smart as she was, the little white-faced animal always inhaled the first two bears and only slowed when she got the final one. Then she deliberately decapitated it between her sharp teeth and nibbled the body down to nothing.

"You're a cruel little girl, Mrs. D. A cannibal for bears." She tried her best to worm another piece of candy out of me, but I resisted. I had to laugh when she patted my pocket with her tiny hand and gave me 'the look'. "No way. You aren't supposed to have sweets at all. Let's go get some air. That's a lot healthier for you than sugar."

She jumped up on my shoulder, bobbing up and down in excitement. I headed out onto the deck and found Richard playing with some lures in the cockpit. He was checking the leaders and making sure the big marlin hooks were rust free and ready to go.

"Practicing your macramé?"

"You know when I'm bored I have to pick up my knitting." It was a joke that Richard occupied himself with the tying and re-rigging of tackle when he had nothing else to do. It wasn't necessary but he was a high energy man. I tossed the bag of Black Bart's beside his feet. "I bought some more toys at Bass Pro."

Richard peeked into the bag and whistled. "Just what we needed. Another two thousand bucks worth of plastics."

"They'll give you something to occupy your hands."

Mrs. Dalloway saw an opportunity and made a dash for one of the big colorful neon baits. Richard snatched it up and several others besides. The little monkey could easily impale herself on one of those monster hooks.

"I guess Mrs. D is telling me to call it a day. Can I get you something when I go in, Boss?"

"A little Goose on the rocks would be great. Have one with me."

"Nah, the Grey's too hard on me. I'll stick to beer."

"That bunny piss you call beer is abominable. But grab one and let's watch the sun set over Lauderdale. God, I'm glad it's the last for a while. I am so sick of South Florida."

"You won't miss all the South Beach beauties?"

"I've had my fill for a while. I'm looking forward to some intelligent company--like fish."

"Lara assured me she'd have the galley ready to roll tomorrow."

"Good. I want to shove off as soon as possible. We can easily make Paradise by dark if we leave by noon. If we have to go later, I'll take the chance on a couple hours of night cruising."

"You know that's a bad idea," Richard said over his shoulder as he went to get the drinks. He came back with a healthy measure of Grey Goose for me and a lite beer for himself. We sat on the aft deck and watched Mrs. Dalloway dart around the rigging.

"Why'd you pick her?" I asked at length.

Richard knew who the 'her' was of course. "Truthfully?"

I nodded.

"She seemed the most easy-going one who knew her stuff. She's well trained, she's got a solid year under her belt at a major player in the South Florida restaurant scene and, well…I thought it might be fun to have a woman around for a change." I already didn't like the way Richard thought Lara would be 'fun'.

"Easy going, huh?"

"Boss. You've run the last three--
three
--chefs off this boat. Good cooks are notorious for having big egos and bad tempers. I just figured maybe somebody softer, younger and less . . . I don't know . . . testosterone driven, would work better."

"Well, she's certainly that."

"Easy on the eyes, too."

I felt my hackles rise. "I hadn't noticed," I lied.

"Well, take a look tomorrow. I sure wouldn't kick her out of my bed."

"For the sake of our crew's harmony, I'll trust you not to pursue that." I said it with an edge that brought a strange look to Richard's face. He immediately recognized my 'danger zone' but clearly didn't expect it in this circumstance. Frankly, neither did I. I surprised myself.

"Sure, Boss. I didn't know we had a no fraternization rule."

"We do now." I knew I was being a dick.

I stood up and went over to the transom. A long, hard pull on my vodka sent a shiver through my gullet. The sunset strollers made their way up and down the pier enjoying the breeze that had kicked up over the water. Richard propped his legs up on an opposite seat and stayed quiet. He knew when to shut up around me.

"Can you rustle up something to eat, Captain?"

"There's not much here. Rodrigo was due to provision us before we sailed and Lara's not back from her shopping. We didn't have a lot when we went on the shakedown cruise and when you decided to stay and gamble on Paradise Island two extra days . . ."

I cut him off. "Just order something, will you?"

"Sure. Cool. You don't have to bark at me. What do you feel like eating?"

"Chrissakes, Richard. Just get something edible."

Richard nodded and escaped into the salon just as my phone rang.

"Shit. It was fucking Phoebe. What the hell did my cousin want now?"
I cursed into the setting sun.

"Hi, Cuz!" Phoebe said in her nasally voice.

"What's up, Phebes?"

"Aren't you, like, taking off for the Bahamas tomorrow?"

"That's the plan," I sighed.

"Do you mind a few stowaways?"

"Fuck me
," I groaned inside. "We're not coming back to Lauderdale this trip. We're heading to London right after a short stop."

"That's cool. The girls and I will fly back. We just want a little break."

I couldn't say no. I wanted to, but I couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse not to let my cousin and her friends hitch a ride.

"Okay. We shove off as close to noon as I can get. Be here by lunch. I've got a new chef. I'll have some sandwiches for you."

"Oh dear God, Morgan. Not sandwiches. Carbs, darling. Just a salad for us. You know the drill."

Did I ever. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a woman eat a roll or a baked potato. "Sure thing. Salad it is."

"Awesome, see you on deck then, sailor!"

"Right. Bye." I sighed as I hung up the phone. It looked like I'd have to put up with South Florida for yet another day. Phoebe and the 'girls' would be bringing it aboard El Lobo with them.

Richard poked his head out the door, menu in hand. "Chinese okay?"

"Whatever. Just no MSG."

"Ruby Chen's doesn't use it, says so on the menu. Are you in the mood for something hot?"

"As long as you're referring to food and not some blond chick." Richard's look required a response. "My cousin Phoebe called. She and a few of her friends will be joining us tomorrow for the trip."

"To London?"

"No, thank God. Just to Paradise Island. I didn't know how to say no."

"Why would you want to? Your cousin and her friends are --"

"I know what they are," I cut him off. "I just need a break. I'm ready for something real. Like a thousand foot drop miles offshore."

"Like a lit-up sail dancing at the end of some twenty-pound test?"

"That's exactly the kind of reality I'm craving." I took a moment to remember the unbelievable run of sailfish in the Keys during the January tournament season. What a rush. One day, out with Richard on a chartered sport fishing boat, we'd caught and released a dozen sails. We had chartered Calex and she was the perfect size boat to maneuver through the choppy water and bring in the fish. El Lobo was no sporty little fishing boat, but a catch here and there while we were underway was still quite possible and always good.

The sea wasn't just calling to me, she was screaming in my ear.

Chapter 3--Lara

I strolled back to the boat as the last daylight glowed pink on the horizon behind me. My first day had flown by.  Richard had stayed with me for several hours as we went over previous menus and talked about the kinds of things Morgan Wolf did and didn't like to eat.

"He likes seafood, of course. All kinds of European cuisines. Asian, too. He's not a particularly picky eater, as far as I know, but very . . . exacting. To the extent that you can, use organic everything. Emphasize healthy eating."

I sighed and mentally cut my butter and cream order in half.

"Have you got something against healthy?"

"It has its limitations."

"I know what you're thinking, but you don't have to go to extremes. Just keep everything as pure as possible. Butter is okay as long as it's not full of chemicals and hormones."

"Mind reader." I had wrinkled my nose at him and made him chuckle. He had a cute, slightly crooked smile that was quick and genuine. I managed to get calls made to suppliers but it was close to six before I was able to slip from El Lobo to do some last minute retail shopping. There were items I wanted on my shelves that I could only find in specialty shops. Thankfully, Richard had made it clear that I wouldn't be expected to do lunch or dinner that day.

The last daylight of the long summer day illuminated the shadow of a man on the foredeck of El Lobo. I already recognized the tall silhouette belonging to Morgan Wolf. I couldn't see his face or his features as he leaned with his hands against the rail. The vast outline of the boat dwarfed the big man. It was a lonely image.

By the time I had stowed my precious oils and spices away night had fallen completely and the stars danced in the moonless sky over the Atlantic Ocean. I barely had the energy to drag myself into the stateroom marked "Chef" at the back of the kitchen. It was a very nice room, considering what I had been prepared to live with on a cruise ship. There was even a view. The small window above my bed looked out over the deck where the swimming pool and hot tub sparkled invitingly.

Richard had assured me that, as staff accommodations went, El Lobo was at the top.

"We even have a friggin' pool table down in our common room!" he had told me with pride.

After a quick shower, I climbed into bed with a book on my ereader I knew I wasn't going to finish that night. It didn't matter how quickly sleep came. I needed all I could get for the busy day ahead. The gentle sway of the boat rocked me and the faint slap of the water against her hull was a soft lullaby.

Within a few hours, I woke and restlessly fought to get back to sleep. My body was used to going to bed past midnight and getting up just in time to make the lunch shift that started at ten in the morning. Going to bed at nine-thirty was a huge mistake. I slept for an hour, tossed for a half, had weird vivid dreams and finally wound up staring alternately at the ceiling and the clock. The numbers had just rounded up to 3:20 when I heard a noise in the kitchen.

It didn't frighten me. I'd passed the armed watchman on deck when I came on board earlier. With the nearly priceless paintings on board, I felt pretty good about my security. But, since I was up anyway I thought I'd check out who or what was poking around my kitchen.

I padded into the galley. It was lit with a pale blue glow from the safety lights around the baseboards. In front of the glass-fronted beverage cooler were two bare and perfect male butt cheeks. The owner of the cheeks was squatting and leaning far into the unit rummaging through the bottles on the second shelf from the bottom. This put him in a position where his torso was obscured by his ass, the two halves of which were stretched open enough for me to see the dark 'O' of his asshole  punctuating the cleft. His balls hung low in the shadow between his legs. 

Before I could sneak silently back into my room, the auto-shut function on my door did its thing. It was a small sound, but it was enough.

He shot upright with two green bottles in his hand. The clinking bottles were as loud as an alarm.

Morgan turned around and stood perfectly still for a moment as if he couldn't quite register how or why I was standing in front of his naked self. I was nearly naked myself. A mini camisole covered my breasts, but just barely. And what was covered instantly came to full attention at the sight of him. My nipples were ready to poke through the flimsy top. The thong between my legs took on Band-Aid like proportions as he quite unapologetically raked his eyes over every inch of me. He took his time. I felt a flush rising from my chest to my scalp.

His cock gave a little bounce and my pussy tightened.