Hooked (7 page)

"Sure you are, Morgan. You're the Boss."  Richard put his coffee cup on the table with just a wee bit more force than necessary.

"Don't you have a checklist to go over somewhere?" I was annoyed that Richard had already cast himself in some protective role for a young woman who didn't seem to need it. The way she reacted the night before was hardly the behavior of a shy little virgin. She could have backed right out of that kitchen. She could have screamed and hidden her face in her hands. Instead she took a good long look at me. And she decidedly did
not
avert her eyes from any part of my anatomy.

And so-fucking-what if I'd rather have a good-looking female put my plate in front of me? I had every right to prefer a Renoir nude over some abstract masterpiece and I had every right to choose Lara over Angelo to serve my meals.

I looked up at the clock. Christ, the morning was crawling by. I went back to my stateroom and changed into a pair of trunks. I figured I could kill an hour or so in the pool and stay cool. Hoping the water would soothe my nerves; I went up to the foredeck and jumped in.

I slipped all the way under and let the air bubble up out of my mouth to the surface. Having worked on my breath holding ability made it easy for me to just sit on the bottom of the shallow pool and allow the watery sounds to fill my head. Usually this worked miracles on any tension I was carrying around. I've never been a big believer in astrology, but I had to admit I lived up to my water sign. My Valentine's Day birthday made me an Aquarius and I've always been happiest around water.

For some reason the water therapy wasn't working. I couldn't get that little chef out of my head. It couldn't all be about her resemblance to some long-ago and nearly forgotten nurse who was kind to me. And even though I found her almost painfully pretty, South Florida was a Mecca for stunning women. South Beach had babes on every corner. The French term
je ne sais quoi
popped into my head.  She had something and it was most definitely in the category of 'I don't know what'. 

Territorial behavior has never been one of my problems with women. As a confessed 'player' I never got far enough into a chick to care who else wanted her. And, unless I hooked-up with a major babe like a Vicky's secret girl, most of the women I dated couldn't be pried from me with a crow bar. The dollar signs were just too strong a sex symbol. I knew it, they knew it and it was all good. I tended to lean toward shallow but honest affairs. They've always worked for me.

Now, in the span of twenty-four hours I had twice snapped at my best buddy because he had expressed an interest in a female. That wasn't like me. Not at all. I wondered if the next step was going to be pissing in all the corners like a tomcat.

I came up for air and went back down again. I watched the sun bend in the water and wished I was hearing the hum of the big diesels instead of the short slap of the waves someone's wake pushing up against the hull. When I breeched the surface the next time I saw someone parking a cart full of produce at the end of El Lobo's gangplank. Lara and Angelo soon appeared to receive the order. Lara had a clipboard and checked off the items as the two men muscled the bags of fruits and vegetables onto the deck below. I watched her look in every bag and box. A lock of her soft brown hair had escaped the tight knot at the back of her neck and she kept tucking it behind her ear as she leaned over to look at each item. When the breeze dislodged it I saw the strands capture the morning sun and glint with gold. I thought a fist full of that hair would look good in my hand as her head bobbed above my crotch.

She was checking the order carefully, that's for sure. At one point, she found something she didn't like. I could see it on her face. She called the delivery guy back and showed him the box of whatever it was that had her wrinkling her nose. It was impossible not to smile at how stern she looked. The delivery guy was a big burly black man twice her size but she had him hanging his head with a wag of her tiny finger. It was obvious from her posture and her concentration that she was taking the task of provisioning the boat very seriously. That appealed to me.

The box left with on the cart it came on. I swore to myself. It meant that the produce guy was going to have to go and get a replacement and that would mean that much more waiting. I realized it didn't really matter since Phoebe & Co. were not likely to show up before noon anyway. I submerged again and sighed into the water.

I hadn't asked who my cousin was bringing with her. Not that it would have mattered. Phebes and her friends were all cut from the same bolt of expensive silk. I'd met dozens of them over the years and they all sort of blended into a leggy blond blur. It's not that I hated blond hair. I had just gotten so bored with the predictable sameness of them all.

I popped my head up and saw Lara hesitating at the end of the gang plank. She was concentrating intently as she grabbed the side rail and made her way across with peculiar graceless steps. I recalled her looking clumsy when she first came on the boat, too. Odd.

The water was starting to shrivel my skin so I dried off and climbed up to the bridge to nose around and waste a little time. The wheelhouse was empty. I sat down in the big captain's chair and drifted into a fantasy of looking out over the bow with nothing but several thousand miles of Atlantic Ocean in front of me. I didn't relish what waited for me on the other side of the pond, but I was sure looking forward to the journey.

I loved El Lobo's exquisite nerve center. Every time I sat in front of the half dozen screens I felt like I was commanding a star ship. I ran my hands over the massive ship's wheel and lost myself in the day dream.

"Boss?" The deckhand interrupted my reverie. "Your guests have arrived."

I looked at the clock. The girls were an hour early. Damn. "Tell them I'll be right down and tell the Captain I'd like to see him." I realized Richard wouldn't have much time to help me entertain my 'company' once we got underway, but he could help me babysit until we shoved off.

I could hear them squealing like twelve-year-olds as I descended toward the main level. "
Oh God, let this be over soon,"
I prayed. Phoebe and two clones were lounging on the sofas; their unnaturally even tans a sharp contrast to the ivory leather seats. Phoebe jumped up when she saw me and bounced over to give me a hug and the kiss-kiss thing I've always found utterly pretentious.

"Cuz! I want you to meet Shelby and Emery. Harley canceled at the last minute"

Not for the first time I wondered if Phoebe required all of her many girlfriends to have gender-neutral names ending in 'y'. It was the reason I had stopped trying to remember them.

"Ladies." I nodded my head at the two girls on the sofa. They were both stunning. They could have easily been models. I found myself foolishly hoping that one of them would open her mouth and say something remotely intelligent.

"Oooooh, Phebes, you weren't kidding about your gorgeous cousin! C'mon over here and sit between me and Shell. We luvvv to share!" She patted the cushion with a perfectly manicured hand and Shelby flashed me a snow white smile. God I hated black fingernail polish.

"Actually, I was just about to go see about lunch for us. Phoebe said you ladies would like something light? Like a salad?"

"As long as there's something delicious for dessert . . ." Shelby made her meaning crystal clear by giving the full length of my body a long salacious look. It looked like the girls were going to be quite the handful.

I changed my mind and decided there were worse ways to spend an afternoon than playing with a couple of willing dolls. I shot her a half grin and a look that I've been told is a killer. There would be plenty of reflective time on the crossing ahead. If I was being offered a gift, why not take it? I could kill some time pleasantly enough and spare myself a lot of inane conversation by getting down to business quickly. Fishing was an option but I doubted these ladies had that kind of hook up in mind.

Richard joined us and I sent him into the kitchen to rustle up some wine and get Lara cracking on the salads. Given what I knew I'd be doing for most of the afternoon, I wasn't anxious to face her. She struck me as the kind of woman who wouldn't approve of the kind of sport fucking I was quite sure was on my agenda. It made me want to avoid those eyes. Those warm knowing eyes.

We killed the first bottle of Orvieto before the salads arrived. Lara and Angelo both set the plates in front of the four of us. She was as soft and natural as my lunch companions were harsh and artificial. I tried not to notice and failed. When she leaned over to place my plate, there was a rush of warmth as her body's aura intersected with mine.

The dishes were beautifully composed and absolutely delicious. My three guests gushed about how good the food was. I filed away their praises for a later conversation with my new chef. I knew all the right things to say to a South Beach beauty, but I already had a vision of being tongue tied trying to chat up someone whose world was so different from what I knew. Lara's range of interest surely ran deeper than what happened that week on "the Bachelor".

Richard maneuvered the boat out of the slip and into the open ocean. El Lobo was finally on her way.

"That wine and the Dramamine are taking their toll on me, dear cousin. I'm going to have to crash for a while. It doesn't help that I'm also hung-over from a tad too many apple-tinis last night." Phoebe pushed back from the table with a dramatic stretch and a yawn.

"Phoebe, the ocean is like glass today. Why the Dramamine?" I asked her.

"I get queasy in a swimming pool. I'm not taking any chances." She blew a kiss to the three of us and went to find a bed.

Angelo began to clear the table and I asked him to bring another bottle of Orvieto up top to the swimming pool. "Find the plastic wine glasses, too." I looked at the twin lovelies at my sides. "We wouldn't want anyone's pretty feet cut up, now would we?"

They both giggled as if I was the wittiest man they'd ever met. I offered a crooked arm to each girl and guided them toward the stairs. "If you need to change into your suits  . . ."

Two sets of mischievous eyes twinkled at me. "Isn't your pool clothing optional, sugah?" Shelby asked me in a mock Southern drawl. Apparently, the girls weren't going to waste any time on preliminaries. That was fine by me. I welcomed the distraction from my distraction.

I propelled them up the stairs with a little smack on both of their tight Valentine asses. "Sweethearts, the entire boat is clothing optional for you two."

Chapter 7--Lara

I had to admit that Morgan managed to snag a trio of fabulous babes for the ride to the Bahamas. Richard had popped into the kitchen earlier in the morning and given me a head's up on the lunch plans so I was able to put together a masterful salad for the guests. Salads are one of my strong suits and I've always enjoyed composing artful presentations for them. I was grateful for the skill. The women looked like they had probably had every permutation of greens under the sun.

Angelo and I finished cleaning up and I was off the hook for dinner. Morgan and his guests, captain and most of the other hands would be having dinner ashore on Paradise Island. There was plenty of time for me to throw a quick pasta dish together for myself and the skeleton crew that would stay on board.

After I changed out of my chef's togs, I propped myself up against my headboard and opened my reader to the book in progress. I wasn't able to concentrate on it, though. Above my head, I could hear the laughter and conversation muffled by the porthole's glass. I tried to ignore it but it was impossible. There was way too much fun going on up there by the pool. My nerves stood at annoyed attention and my stomach gave an angry lurch at the thought of Morgan splashing around with the hotties up on deck.

Of course I knew I was being irrational. I had no claim on the man whatsoever. All the same, I wanted him. If I was destined for another bad choice at least it could be a guy who made my core clutch at the sight of him. I wanted to pull that perfect mouth down to mine and run my tongue over those lupine teeth. Fantasy doesn't adhere to rules and my mind was bucking me naked against those slim hips, taking that fine thick cock inside me and riding him like a wild thing. Maybe he'd be the one to push me over the edge. Finally. Ever since I had my cherry popped I've been wondering what a man-induced orgasm would feel like.

Another cooing sound drifted above my head. I had to peek. I knew I'd regret it but I couldn't resist torturing myself. I slid onto my knees and raised my head to the window. The people on deck probably couldn't have seen me spying on them. The windows were all so darkly tinted and the glare of the sun turned them into virtual mirrors. But I didn't want to get caught playing the peeping Tom so I parted the curtains just enough to barely see out.

You can't un-read a bad book or un-watch a bad movie. But oh how I wished I could un-see the back of Morgan's head as he buried his face between one set of shapely thighs and burrowed his hand between another set. The two women were kissing each other playfully, breaking free long enough to giggle encouragement to their playmate below them in the water.

His wet sculpted back was just above the surface. The water distorted the tight outline of his ass below. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Each beautifully defined muscle undulated as he lapped at the girl on the right. She arched and spread her legs even further twining her fingers through the dark curls dripping on the base of his neck. My hand tightened into a fist involuntarily. I could almost feel the slick strands between my fingers.

The one on the left must have been getting very close to coming because I saw her thighs snap shut as she began to buck against whatever number of Morgan's fingers were crammed up inside her. She threw her face toward the sky with a dramatic gasp and porn star cries. He must have brought the money moves to the other chick at about the same time. She held his head in a vise grip against her and joined her girlfriend in an orgasmic duet. The two women fell against one another and I watched their amazing chests heave up and down as they caught their breath.