He pushed a lock of her blondish-red hair back from her forehead. “That sounds nice, angel. I’m glad you have something that means so much to you.”
She never broke their gaze. “So, tell me about you and your boat.”
“For people who live in Key West,” he said with a grin, “my story is a typical one. I came down here five years ago with some friends for New Year’s Eve, and when it was time to go home, I just didn’t want to. I couldn’t face going back to the cold and drear. But more than that, I couldn’t face going back to my job.”
“Which was?”
“I was a loan officer for a large bank in Cleveland.”
She flinched. “You? A suit and tie guy? In Cleveland?”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Yep. Born and raised there.”
She shook her head. “From the moment we met, I just thought you fit here. It’s hard to imagine you in…” she glanced down at his body, apparently taking in his tan “…Cleveland. And in a suit and tie. It’s just not you.”
He gave her a look of agreement. “Don’t I know it. The minute I got to this place, I fell in love with it. So, much to the dismay of my parents and friends, who all thought I’d lost my mind, I decided to go on permanent vacation. I traded in my sedan for a motorcycle and used the equity I had in my condo as a down payment for the boat. My family had always been big into sailing—on Lake Michigan—so I had the know-how and I’ve always loved the water. My parents were sure I was washed up at twenty-five, that I was throwing away my whole future. But like I told you, five years later the boat’s almost paid off, and as soon as that happens, I can quit bartending and acting as crew member on the other boats my management company handles out of the kiosk. And from where I’m sitting, things couldn’t be better.”
She smiled. “So you’re content to stay here for life, huh?”
He shrugged. “Why not? The water’s blue, the sun’s bright, the attitude’s laid-back and easy, and there are always people who want to go snorkeling.”
“And I bet there are always women on vacation seducing you.”
He grinned and dodged the question, not wanting to tell her she was right—like before, he wanted her to feel special. “Hmm, did you seduce me or did I seduce you?” And despite his growing discomfort with the idea, he did feel differently about her than any other woman he’d met down here.
“Maybe a little of both?” she asked.
He nodded. “Sounds about right.” He drew her into a loose embrace. “Listen, speaking of the boat, I’m off tomorrow and Shay and I made plans to go for a ride, spend the day hanging out on the ocean. Come with us.”
She looked slightly skeptical. “Are you and Shay…?”
“We’re good friends,” he assured her quickly. But a tendency toward honesty made him add, “I won’t lie to you—she and I have slept together before. But…well, you probably won’t quite get this, but you can do that with a friend sometimes, and still just be friends afterward. Since she and I work at the same places, there have been times when it just happened, without thought—before or after. It was…a warm body to pass the night with, for both of us. And it hasn’t happened in a while.”
She cast a doubtful grin. “You’re right, I don’t quite get it, but that’s okay.”
“Then you’ll go?”
She nodded against her pillow, then glanced at the bedside clock. “I hope you don’t have early plans, though, since it’s nearly four a.m.”
He reached over the bed to turn out the light. “We’re meeting at the catamaran at noon, so we can get at least a few hours of sleep first.”
* * * * *
Chris kissed her goodbye late the next morning, telling her he had to run home, change, and pick up some lunch to take on the boat, and that he’d meet her at the Conch Fury at noon.
In a state of half-sleep, Carrie could scarcely process that last night hadn’t been a dream, but something oh-so-real. Climbing out of bed naked, she made her way to the bathroom, noticing her bare pussy in the mirror. She stopped to study it and realized why Chris wanted it this way—it was sexy on display like this, no longer hiding behind curls.
Stepping into the shower, she saw all the evidence of their bathtub encounter last night—the open can of shaving cream and the razor, the dildo he’d used on her in the tub. She let out a sigh, remembering but still not quite believing that he’d gotten that cock and then his cock up inside her where she’d needed him so badly.
After donning her bikini and black sarong a few minutes later, she still had a few minutes to kill, so she grabbed some orange juice from the mini-bar and stepped out on her balcony to enjoy her Caribbean view.
“Good morning!” a woman’s voice called.
She turned to see Cole and Amy seated at their balcony table, a room service cart beside it. Cole wore a pair of black shorts and Amy wore a clingy camisole of white lace and matching panties, her dark nipples visible through the top.
“Hi,” Carrie said, smiling as she took a seat.
Amy gave her head a speculative tilt. “You weren’t on your balcony last night, were you?”
She pulled in her breath at the question. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry. I was…with a guy.”
“Say no more, girlfriend. You’re practically aglow.”
Across from Amy, Cole let out a laugh. “First a wet t-shirt contest and now a new guy. I think losing your fiancé was good for you.”
Carrie considered his words and realized, for the first time, “Maybe you’re right.” If all had gone as planned and if she were here with Jon right now, she’d probably be perfectly content, but she wouldn’t have had any of the eye-opening sensual adventures Chris had taken her on. And now that she’d pushed aside worries about leaving him at the end of the week, she thought she was probably happier than she’d been in a very long time. She felt…free. Devil-may-care. She’d never felt this way in her whole life.
“Did you guys go on the Party Barge last night?” she asked.
The couple exchanged glances and shared a private laugh. “Did we ever!” Amy exclaimed.
Carrie raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her orange juice. “Okay, spill.”
Cole grinned at his wife, then at Carrie. “Let’s just say I’m honored to be sitting here with the Party Barge’s two most recent wet t-shirt winners.”
Carrie let out a chuckle. “Well, congratulations. I only hope you didn’t have to get as wild as I did in order to win.”
Amy giggled. “You were right about that rum punch.”
“Details?” Carrie asked.
Amy blushed and shook her head, appearing too overwrought to speak, so Cole answered for her. “Uh, long story short, my wife got completely naked, yanked me up on the stage, and gave me a very thorough blowjob.”
Carrie smiled. “Yep, that rum punch is something else.”
“And this morning,” Amy said, “we’ve got mimosas.”
Cole held up a stemmed glass. “Come on over and have one. We have a whole pitcher on ice.”
“Thanks, but I have to go as soon as I drink this.” She lifted her can. “I have a date.”
Amy raised her eyebrows. “With the guy from last night?”
She nodded. “We’re taking his boat out for the day.”
“Sounds fun.”
“What kind of boat?” Cole asked.
“A big catamaran. It’s one of the snorkeling excursion boats near the Party Barge. Actually, I met him on the Party Barge. He was part of the crew—but he wasn’t working last night, so you wouldn’t have seen him.”
“Did you have that emcee guy, Scott, on your cruise?” Amy asked.
Carrie laughed. “Yeah. He’s my guy’s roommate.”
“Mmm, mmm,” Amy said, sipping her mimosa, “if your guy is half as hot as that one, you’re a lucky girl.”
Across from her, Cole arched a scolding brow and spoke teasingly. “Hey, wifey. Forget who you’re with? Forget who made you scream your head off last night?”
>
She laughed and reached across the table to pat his hand. “Scott is nothing compared to you, baby.”
He gave her a lazy, sexy smile. “And don’t you forget it.”
Carrie sighed, envying their relationship. Like Chris, Cole seemed to accept and even relish his partner’s wild side. Before coming to Key West, she’d never known people who spoke so openly about their sexuality, who accepted their urges so freely. Well, maybe Diana—but up to now, she’d almost thought her wild sister was an oddity.
Maybe there were a lot more people like this than she realized.
Then an even more startling concept struck her—that maybe she was becoming one of them.
Chapter Seven
When Carrie stepped onto the Conch Fury, Chris and Shay had already boarded. Music blared from a boom box on the deck. Shay had brought a cooler filled with ice and jugs of orange juice, as well as vodka to mix it with. Chris had supplied a bag of chips, plus fried chicken and a container of potato salad, which he was placing in Shay’s cooler.
“Lucky for you, I brought this thing,” she said over her shoulder to him.
“You never let me down,” he replied in a teasing voice.
Carrie couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of their relationship. Not only because Shay was sexy as sin and Carrie knew she’d fucked Chris, but also because of their easy camaraderie. They seemed to know each other so well.
Today Shay wore a red bikini, much skimpier than the one she’d worn on the snorkeling trip yesterday. The narrow triangle top barely covered her breasts, and the low-cut bottom was a thong, revealing a round, tan ass that made Carrie envious.
“Hey, you’re here,” Chris said. He kissed her hello—a warm kiss with just enough tongue to make her pussy tingle, and that helped reassure her.
“Hey there, sweets,” Shay said in her usual flirtatious tone. “Glad you came. I suspect the day will be much more interesting with you here.”
Carrie blinked, not quite sure what she meant, but glad the other girl didn’t mind her presence.
“Make yourself comfortable on the deck while we get this thing untied and moving,” Chris said with a grin. “Pour yourself a screwdriver, lay out your towel, and get some sun.”
Carrie did just that—after getting a drink, she put on sunscreen and reclined on her beach towel, peering at the cloudless blue sky overhead. A day like this made it easy to see what Chris saw in the place.
“Turn on the generator for me, Shay,” she heard Chris call across the boat as the two of them navigated the catamaran from its slip. A moment later, Shay took the helm as Chris secured the ropes just untied from the dock.
Checking to make sure no one was watching, Carrie reached up to adjust her own bikini top slightly, pulling the slinky fabric toward the center in an attempt to bare just a little more flesh. Envying Shay wasn’t pleasant, but she couldn’t help it. The only thing she could do was attempt to be just as sexy and not let the more boisterous girl intimidate her.
“Good wind today!” she heard Chris call to the object of her jealousy. “Let’s hoist the sails and get out of the bay where it won’t be so choppy.”
The next few minutes were spent watching the two unroll enormous white sails and heave them skyward as Chris called things like, “Tighten it up,” and “Ease up on the jib.”
Eventually, the boat drifted out to sea past Sunset Key and Carrie looked up to find Shay spreading a towel next to her.
“Did you get some of that monster cock last night, sweets?” she said just loud enough to be heard over the wind in the sails.
Carrie bit her lip, unable to hide a small smile at the memory. “Oh yes.”
Her eyes were closed against the bright sunlight, but she heard Shay chuckle. “I bet it made you scream.”
Again, it was unusual to be discussing her sex life with strangers, but she figured, when in Rome… “Did it ever.”
“How long are you here?”
The question jarred her. She’d been so busy living in the moment that she’d not thought ahead to that in awhile. “I leave Sunday.” And today was Tuesday. Fortunately, it sounded like lots of time.
“Good for you. Five more nights to fuck him.”
Did Shay sound jealous now? She couldn’t tell. As friendly as the raucous girl was at moments, at other times Carrie found herself not knowing how to take her comments, or the looks she flashed.
“Hope it’ll be enough to satisfy you,” Shay added, and Carrie thought, Me, too.
But she wasn’t going to be tricked into worrying about that; in fact, she almost suspected that was what Shay wanted—for her to realize how temporary her position here was and that when it was over, Shay got to stay. She couldn’t help wondering if Chris had said something to make Shay feel more threatened by Carrie than she had last night at the Lazy Lizard. She also couldn’t help being just a little catty, reminding Shay who was currently in his bed. “Well, he was awfully satisfying last night. And I’m sure it’ll be just as wonderful tonight.”
With that, she glanced over to see if Shay had any reaction and—oh my God! Shay was lying there next to her topless! She couldn’t squelch her gasp.
Shay opened her eyes as Carrie sat up, stunned. Her lips spread into a thin smile. “What?”
“I just…didn’t realize you’d taken your top off, that’s all.”
Shay let out a full-bodied laugh. “I don’t like tan lines, so as soon as we get out to sea by ourselves, I always take it off.”
Carrie was beginning to understand exactly how Chris could end up having casual sex with Shay. Envy warred with a hint of arousal as she studied the other woman. Her medium-sized breasts were as round and pretty as Carrie had suspected, her hard nipples a lovely, dark shade of rose that complemented the tan skin surrounding them. “How do you keep from getting tan lines when you have your top on, like on the snorkeling trips?”
“I put on sunscreen on those days, but don’t when I have it off.”
Carrie supposed if you lived in the sun that eventually you wouldn’t need protection from it.
“If I start getting lines, I adjust. I don’t have any right now, do I?” she asked, reaching up to cup her breasts.
Carrie shook her head. “No.” Although the word came out sounding weak, and she realized Shay’s near nudity was intimidating her—the one thing she hadn’t wanted to let happen.
Without warning, Shay reached over and pulled down the edge of Carrie’s leopard print bottoms slightly. Carrie tried her damnedest not to flinch.
Shay studied her for a second, then said, “You’re getting a decent tan yourself, but why don’t you take your top off, too, and go home with an all-over tan?”
Was it a challenge, to see if she would? Carrie didn’t know. And a couple of days ago, she couldn’t have imagined any scenario that would have her taking off her top on a boat, but the Party Barge had changed that. Feeling daring, she said, “All right.”
When she reached up to undo the tie behind her neck, Shay pulled the one on her back. As the bikini top fell away, her pussy tingled hotly. She tried to act cool as she set the top aside and lay back on her towel to close her eyes.
“Pretty tits,” Shay whispered in that tone Carrie didn’t know how to interpret.
Not sure if she was supposed to reply, she didn’t.
A quiet moment later, a wet hand boldly caressed her breast—a hand too small to belong to Chris—and she jerked her eyes open. “What…?” she gasped, uncertain of her question.
“We don’t want them to burn, do we?” Shay asked, and Carrie realized the other girl was applying sunscreen to her breasts. To her surprise, she didn’t push her hand away or ask her to stop.
The truth was, she didn’t know what to do, and couldn’t define her own feelings. Was she letting Shay massage lotion into her breasts because to deny her would be to fail some challenge, to say she was afraid to let a girl touch her? Or was it because ever since the Party Barge, she’d felt a new awareness around attr
active women, wondering what it would be like to touch them, kiss them, as so many girls had done after indulging in the rum punch? Did she want to know how it would feel? Or did she already know? Because her breasts rippled with pleasure under Shay’s sure caresses, shooting a new sort of pleasure to her cunt.
She felt uncertain as the sensations wafted warmly through her body, and just when she was beginning to wonder where Chris was, she glanced behind them to find he sat only a few yards away, lounging leisurely at the helm, watching. He looked totally enraptured, his eyes gleaming with slow heat. That was all she needed—his pleasure. If he wanted it, that was reason enough to let it happen. She closed her eyes.
After what seemed a long while of Shay’s willowy fingers massaging each of Carrie’s breasts, her touch disappeared, and her voice came in a sexy whisper near Carrie’s ear. “There. They’re all nice and protected now.”
She didn’t answer, but her pussy clenched.
A few minutes later, she heard Chris moving around the boat and glanced up, propping on her elbows. He glanced over and said, “I’m dropping the anchor.” Carrie took the opportunity to look around them. In the distance, a few small islands dotted the seascape, but other than that, they were surrounded by vast turquoise waters on all sides. A few sails and masts shone far away, but for the most part, they were alone.
Chris eased down behind her, crossing his legs and gently lifting her head into his lap. Bending over, he delivered a soft kiss to her lips as he reached out to cup her breasts. “You look so hot,” he whispered before sitting back up, tweaking her nipples lightly between his fingertips.
The compliment made her glad she’d been bold enough to shed her top, and that fast, she wanted him. She always wanted him—every moment since the second they’d met—but the urge rising inside her now felt delicious and dangerous, forbidden. Because she suddenly didn’t care that Shay was there—all she cared about was the overwhelming desire to suck his cock.
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