What Emma Craves (15 page)

Pete set his menu down, deciding to go with the special, which was some kind of egg hash concoction. “So Emma tells me you’ve been to the island a few times before,” Pete said, addressing Antonio.

“That’s right.” Antonio nodded. “The first time was about two years ago. A friend recommended it—and me. I’d come back more often, but leaving my company for too long is hard.”

“I can imagine,” Pete commented.

“What do you guys do for a living?” Antonio asked.

“I’m a creative director at an ad agency, and Emma is a dancer.”

Antonio’s eyebrows shot up as his gazed snapped to her. “You dance?”

Emma took a sip of her water, dabbing her napkin against her lips, appearing a little embarrassed. “I only teach dance now, but I will always consider myself a dancer. It was my life for many years. All through high school, college, and a few years after.”

“Ballet?” he asked.

“All kinds, but yes, ballet was my main passion. I danced with a troupe in Chicago up until Pete and I were married.”

“Why did you quit?” Antonio asked, leaning forward.

Pete noticed Antonio’s gaze was extremely focused on his wife.

Emma laughed, her voice clear and high. “Because I was getting older. My joints and muscles weren’t cooperating well either. I kept getting stress fractures. Plus, I’d always wanted to teach. That had always been my end goal.” She glanced over at Pete and smiled, setting her hand on top of his. “And that someday came at exactly the right time, if you ask me.”

“I love ballet. Going to the theater is a passion of mine,” Antonio said. “It’s so majestic and beautiful. I’d love to see you dance someday.” He sat back, assuming his casual pose.

Pete cleared his throat. Antonio was too focused on Emma, so it was time to change the subject. “Emma tells me you have a boat.”

“I do,” he answered. “It’s a Marquis 660 Sport. You can’t see it from this table, but it’s out in the marina. It was a huge splurge, but I adore it. I keep it parked down here most of the time. I’m a novice captain, but I’m learning fast.”

“Is your company headquartered in Madison, then?” Pete asked, hoping like hell it wasn’t. “You flew out of there, so I was just wondering.”

“No, I live in California. I was just in town visiting my mother.” Antonio grinned. “My parents divorced when I was eighteen. I grew up in Detroit. My mom moved to Madison about a year ago when she realized she wasn’t getting grandkids anytime soon. It’s a nice town, and we have extended family there. I’m actually thinking of investing in some local businesses. If I’m going to be spending time visiting my family, it makes sense I would mix it with business.”

At that moment, the waitress came to take their order.

Pete sat back, crossing his arms, studying Antonio.

This was going to be a very interesting day.

* * *

The yacht was absolutely stunning. It was like nothing Emma had ever seen before—at least not up close. The girls at home were going to die when she told them where she’d been and what she’d done.

“This is the main deck,” Antonio announced, ushering them through the boat on a tour. “This is where the helm is located, where we entertain. I drive in here if the weather sucks. Above us is the flybridge. That’s where we’ll spend most of the day, and the lower deck houses a small living room and three bedrooms.”

“Three bedrooms?” Emma asked. “Wow.”

“Actually, there are two bedrooms, a master and a guest, and then a small bunk room in the back.”

The main deck was covered in gray, highly polished wood that gleamed in the morning sun. There were three immaculate, white leather couches, a big-screen TV, a built-in bar, and an area where you could lounge next to the captain as he drove.

It was the epitome of luxury.

Pete gave a low whistle. “This is killer. Very nice.”

“Let’s head up top to the flybridge, then we can be on our way.” Antonio led them up an interior staircase by a small galley kitchen, which was decked out with top-of-the-line appliances made to fit the small space. “The roof is partly open, so there will be shade or sunshine, whichever you prefer.”

As they climbed the steps, Emma asked, “Why bother renting a villa? Why don’t you just stay on the boat?”

“Can’t. It’s against the resort rules. People come to socialize with other couples here, and they want to make sure everyone is entitled to the same amenities. But that’s fine. I love the villas. They are done perfectly, and it’s easy to get to meals and head to the beach.”

The flybridge was just as beautiful as the main deck, with the same wood floor. The couches were sleek and stylish. A partial cover on top looked to be a rolling canvas skylight. There were two different tables to sit at, one with chairs and one with a couch.

“This is so amazing,” Emma commented. “Thank you for inviting us to join you. We feel very pampered.”

Before Antonio could answer, there was a loud “Hello!” from below. “Am I too late to catch the wind in my hair?” Mallory’s head popped into view as she ascended the stairs.

Emma was surprised to see her, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Emma had no hard feelings about last night’s interactions with the beautiful model. In fact, Mallory had been likable, down-to-earth, and accommodating. There was nothing not to like.

“Not at all. You’re just in time,” Antonio said jovially, walking over to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. “We weren’t sure if we were going to see you today or not.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You know I love seeing you and your swanky-ass yacht.” Mallory leaned around his shoulder. “And I see you’ve already found the hottest couple on the island to bring along with you. Man, you’re fast,” Mallory teased. She was dressed in a flowing, gauzy cover-up with nothing much underneath, big sunglasses, several bracelets and adornments, and a big pink floppy hat. She looked like a movie star, or the supermodel she was soon to become.

Antonio grinned. “So you guys have already met, then? I’m not surprised in the least. It seems you work quicker than I do, my dear. Shall we go?” He leaned over the side and called to Charlotte, who had stayed below. “Untie us. We’re all set!” Then he sat in the captain’s chair and turned on the engine.

Within a few moments, they were motoring out into the clear blue waters.

Emma and Pete sat on one of the long couches near the back, Mallory sat across from them at the table, and Charlotte was sprawled on the couch next to Antonio.

Everyone was relaxed.

Emma took in the sights with Pete’s arm slung casually around her shoulders. The greenery around the resort was very lush, but as the yacht made its way along the coastline, the vegetation was sparse, just like she’d seen on the other side. But the white sand and crystal-blue water were out of this world, something out of a fantasy. After a while, Emma stood and walked to the railing, loving the feel of the wind and trying to spot some sea creatures in the rolling waves.

“We’re coming up to what I like to call Private Beach,” Antonio called. “It’s a small, sheltered cove that you can only get to by boat.” He swiveled around to face them as Emma walked back to the couch where Pete was sitting. “Do you guys want to anchor for a while?”

“Sure,” Mallory answered first. “I want to catch some sun on the bow. I only do morning sun. Once it’s past noon, I’m out.” She smiled affably at Emma and Pete. “I get to see the sun, mostly because I get hired for that natural, sporty look, but also because I’m a rebel. Some models are like mole people and never let a ray of sunshine hit them, and if it does they bitch and moan to high heaven. Those are the haute-couture girls. I figure if I get hired for couture at this point, they can just Photoshop the hell out of me and make me as pasty white as they want to.”

Emma chortled at Malloy’s open honesty. “Well, it’s not just couture models. If I laid out in the sun with you, I’d be a lobster in about three minutes. I lathered on a bottle of sunscreen this morning, but it wouldn’t matter. I’m too neon white. A beacon to the burn.”

“At least you have a good reason,” Mallory said. “It’s a digital age, and these women need to shut the hell up. One freckle will not keep them out of work.” Antonio slowed the boat and cut the motor. Mallory got out of her seat. “And, darling, lemme tell you, if I had your coloring, I’d be the Nicole Kidman of the model world. You have something very few have—flawless skin paired with beauty. Most redheads I know have one or the other. Most of them have freckles all over. You have this many.” She formed a circle with her fingers. “Zippo. You have that thing models kill for. If you were a little taller, I guarantee you would’ve been recruited by some hungry shark a long time ago. But be thankful you avoided this life. This job sucks out your soul and spits it out like a big loogie.”

Antonio came up behind them, followed by Charlotte. “I parked close enough to swim to shore if that’s what we want to do. It’s already hot enough to take a plunge. I have snorkel gear, floatation devices, and just about anything you want downstairs. There’s plenty of food on board, so we can have lunch when we’re done. How does that sound?”

“Lovely,” Emma said. “This is really wonderful. Thank you again.”

“I’m heading to the bow now for some sun, if anyone wants to join me.” Mallory winked at the group as she set her hat and glasses on the table. Then she dropped her cover-up to the ground and sauntered down the stairs, totally naked.

14

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A
s Mallory passed Pete, she curled her index finger in front of her. The universal sign for
come with me
. Pete glanced at Emma, who was having an animated chat with Charlotte. Antonio had already gone to drop the anchor.

Pete couldn’t believe how ritzy this yacht was. It must’ve set back Antonio by at least two million. Pete waited for a moment to catch Emma’s eye to tell her where he was going, but Emma was still wrapped up in her conversation. After a few moments, he decided Emma could join them when she was done. What else were they going to do?

He headed down the stairs and took a path along the side of the boat to get to the front. He’d spotted the large cushions on the bow during the tour.

When he rounded the corner, Mallory was already spread out, one knee up, her hair fanned out around her. She patted the lounger next to her without even looking up.

She’d known he’d come after her.

This beauty wasn’t used to being denied much, and coming to sit with her fed into that, but as he looked out over the clear water and their surroundings, and her more-than-beautiful body, he found he didn’t care too much. This was a dream vacation, and he was going to enjoy it.

Pete hoped Emma joined them before Mallory got too horny. But it wasn’t like they were going to have sex right here, so he pushed it out of his mind.

“Let’s have sex,” Mallory announced, giving him a lazy grin as she circled one of her areolas.

Pete was so taken aback, he nearly lost his balance, and he was
sitting
. But there was no place for him to escape now that he was there. “I’m sorry,
what
?”

She belly-laughed at his reaction.

It sounded like a genuine laugh, unlike what he’d heard from her so far. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you.” She turned on her side to face him, a finger tracing the seam on the cushion. “You know, I can’t figure you and your wife out. I’ve been trying all morning. You seem into each other. There’s love there. I mean, it’s written all over your faces. You checked with your wife twice before agreeing to be with me last night. That’s not typical in my world. Most people, including couples, are selfish motherfuckers. All the time. They’re out for their own pleasure and will tromp on anyone to get it. So what gives?”

“What do you mean, what gives?” Pete relaxed a little, knowing Mallory wasn’t going to jump on his already hard dick.

“The lifestyle. How do you juggle it? It seems like it would rip a loving couple like you two apart. I’m curious, if you fucked me right now, without her permission, would Emma divorce you?”

The question was so personal, Pete didn’t know exactly how to answer it, so he just went with real. “Yes, most likely.”

“Then explain it to me.” She turned on her stomach and went up on her elbows. “Most swingers I meet are selfish and would take the fuck any day, especially with someone like me. So make me understand why you’re different.”

“I don’t know,” Pete said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The first reason is we aren’t real swingers in that sense. We call it swapping, and when we do it, it’s very controlled. We meet a couple ahead of time, everyone is on board, and we know roughly how the night is going to go from beginning to end. Everyone is amped, and we have a good time. When they go home, it’s over.”

“Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Then do you and Emma fuck by yourselves, or what? What’s the payoff after a swap for the two of you? From what I saw last night, the payoff was you coming. You came hard and were totally lost in the moment. But what’s the payoff for your beautiful, porcelain wife? She didn’t appear to get off on it as much as you did.”

Pete was stymied for a moment. How could she know that after being with them for a total of twenty minutes? “Well, when we first started doing it, the payoff always came after. The two of us were charged for weeks after we were with another couple, and our sex together was explosive.”