As You Crave It

by J. Margot Critch

  “Not a bad idea,” she told Quin.

  The stewards again came and refilled everyone’s drinks. Quin said nothing, but his eyes stayed on Celia’s, trying to process the shock of seeing her, just as she was. She felt a sense of relief seeing him. With Quin on the boat, she wasn’t quite so alone. While she hadn’t been afraid for her physical safety—she could hold her own—she felt safer and not as at the mercy of her boss as she had just minutes ago. She had an ally.

  But as she watched Quin joke with the other men, the sense of relief started to fade. Where did he fit in at this table?

  Jared drank from his wineglass, then held up the empty glass and it was promptly refilled, and he drank again. He nodded at Quin. “Are you having any fun yet, Rexford?”

  “Yeah, this is fantastic. There are worse ways to spend a few days than on a yacht in the Caribbean, right?”

  “You got that right,” one of the other shareholders agreed.

  “You know, I really appreciate the invitation and hopefully we’ll get a chance to come to mutually beneficial terms for our companies.”

  Jared waved him off, and the stewards started dinner service. “We can get to all that later. For now, it’s time for food. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.” She could see Quin’s annoyance at being dismissed, but he recovered quickly and smiled. Jared wasn’t as observant and didn’t seem to catch it. “Good, this chef’s food is better than anything you’ve ever had. This goes for all of you. I want you to enjoy. You can have anything you could ever want here.” He turned to one of the servers. “And get this man another drink.”

  Celia watched as a smiling Quin thanked the steward for his refill and started eating his first course. But it disappointed her to see him look like he was enjoying himself, laughing at Jared and his cohorts. Behind her own glasses, she glowered at her old friend as he sat with his chums at the dinner table. She’d thought Quin might be better than to associate with a man like Jared, but as the two men drank wine and joked over dinner, through laughter and disgusting jokes, she wondered about how she must have misjudged him. Eight years was a long time—maybe he’d changed. He hadn’t seemed like a bad guy the night before, but as she dwelled on their evening—him buying a bottle of rum for the table, taking the wine—she knew he had become a man who got what he wanted. She’d invited him in, and they’d had sex, and then she’d let him off the hook about a relationship. Just what he would have wanted. She lost her appetite at the thought that he’d manipulated her. Taken her, used her, and she hadn’t even noticed.

  Celia recalled his every word and action from the night before. Had he played her? No, she realized, despite how much power he had to hurt her, she’d wanted him as much as he wanted her. She picked at her food, pushed the seared scallops around on her plate, unable to finish, and then leaned away from the table. She wasn’t hungry anymore. She pushed herself back and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well. I’m going to my cabin to lie down.”

  “Are you okay?” Quin quickly asked before anyone else could speak.

  They looked at each other for a moment before she turned away. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

  * * *

  Quin watched Celia walk away. He was still in a state of shock. She was the last person he’d expected to see on Jared Foster’s yacht. Seeing her take the seat opposite him had been a surprise. What was she doing there? When she disappeared inside, Quin pulled his attention back to the table and saw that Jared was watching him, his mouth turned downward in a frown.

  “Like what you see, Rexford?”

  He’d obviously misstepped, and he wondered if Celia was with Jared in a romantic capacity. What was she doing here otherwise? Why would she have fooled around with him on the beach, invited him into her home, if that was the case? “Just admiring the view,” he responded as coolly as he could. “Is she here with you?”

  “Yeah, she is,” he said, his answer too simple for Quin’s liking. “I thought she might be convenient to have around on the boat.” He leaned in and his tone sounded menacing. “In case anything comes up. If you get my meaning.”

  He more than understood the meaning. Jared was staking his claim on Celia, and Quin wondered if she knew it or not.

  “And you know, women love the yacht.”

  Quin tried to control his eye roll, but he was pretty sure he failed, while the other men at the table laughed and clinked their glasses with Jared’s in celebration. The other woman sat uncomfortably, looking into her lap. While Quin wanted nothing more than to break the bottle on the man’s skull, he had to keep the peace. He kept hearing Reid’s voice in his head—long line of Quin Rexford fuckups. He had to do his time, make the deal, sign the papers. Quin sighed. He knew he should say something. He’d been raised to be respectful of women. And he was disappointed in himself when he couldn’t come up with the words to tell Jared and the other men to go fuck themselves. But how? He was on the man’s yacht, in the middle of the ocean, and he needed his business. Quin had to focus on getting through the trip and making the deal, and then hopefully never speaking to him again outside of polite conversation and contract signing.

  Quin knocked back his glass of wine, emptying it. It was quickly refilled. Alcohol would definitely help. But the conversation had moved on. The other men were now discussing plans for the next day.

  “There are some pretty cool toys onboard that we’ll break out tomorrow. There’s a couple of Jet Skis, a Zodiac, a big inflatable slide,” Jared told the table. “And tonight, I’ve got some great Cubans we can enjoy. And Rexford gave me a bottle of rum. Could be a good evening.”

  Quin didn’t give a shit about the boat’s toys, and he took one more look into the interior of the yacht, where Celia had disappeared. He’d wanted so badly to follow her inside, to see why she was here. And he remembered the look of disappointment on her face when she’d seen him at the table. He felt like he owed her an explanation of some kind.

  But for the moment, he had to play the game and stay on Jared Foster’s good side. Play along for the next three days that he didn’t think the man was repugnant. But first, he had to check on Celia. At least she wasn’t on the yacht alone. At least he would be there to look out for her. As long as he was here, Jared Foster wouldn’t get anywhere near her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CELIA SAT AT the desk in her stateroom, in front of her opened laptop, uploading the audio she’d recorded when Jared had come to her room earlier. Sure, he’d said some vile things to her, but this was her one chance to get him, and unfortunately, she wasn’t sure it was enough.

  In the company of others, Jared knew to put on a good show of keeping his distance—he’d flat-out ignored her at dinner. Maybe she would have to work a little harder to get some really incriminating evidence on Jared.

  There was a knock on her door. She wouldn’t dare call for whoever was outside to come in lest it be Jared. There was no way she would invite him into her room. She closed her laptop and stood from the desk. She switched the recorder on, just in case it was Jared. She opened the door, only a couple of inches, with her foot against the edge, so the person on the other side couldn’t open it any farther.

  But it wasn’t Jared on the other side. It was Quin.

  She sighed, considered closing the door, but instead opened it all the way, letting him in.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Why? Are you concerned?”

  “Of course I am. I was trying to get away as quickly as I could to talk to you.”

  “How was the rest of your dinner?”

  “Delicious, but it was all pretentious stuff meant to impress people. I would have been happy with a burger and fries, and I would have enjoyed better company.”

  “Your friends up there aren’t good company?”

  Quin’s laugh was bitter. “Th
ey’re no friends of mine.”

  “No? People normally invite their friends on vacations like this.”

  “Like I said, I’m here for business,” he told her. “Jared told you that.”

  “He also called you his friend.”

  “That was an exaggeration on his part. The distribution deal would be really good for the distillery. Not that I have to defend myself.” He crossed his arms.

  “Of course, you don’t have to defend yourself,” she said. “I saw you guys acting all chummy.”

  “There are people on this boat I’d rather spend time with than Jared. I’m just here to make a deal. That’s all I want from him. But let’s switch the topic a little—why are you here? Are you a friend?”

  “You heard him. I work for him.” She affected a cool exterior.

  “He has lots of employees. But why are you here?”

  “He invited me.”

  Quin rolled his eyes. “Come on, Celia, you know why you were invited.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. He’s trying to get me into bed,” she told him bluntly.

  Quin nodded. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Honestly, I’d rather cut off both of my arms.” They watched each other in silence. “I’m tired, Quin. As you recall I didn’t get much sleep last night. What can I do for you?”

  He wiped his hand over the lower half of his face, a gesture she recognized as him dealing with frustration. “Um...” He trailed off, as if trying to find the words. “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Imagine my surprise seeing you here, too.”

  “What did you really do to earn an invitation here?” Whether he meant it or not, his tone was accusatory, and she could have slapped him across the face.

  “What are you implying? That I’m sleeping with a man like Jared Foster?”

  “I’m not implying anything.” Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus. Just... I’m just surprised is all. You’re the last person I expected to see here.”

  “You never answered my question. Do you think I’m here because I’m sleeping with Jared?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that. But it’s not for lack of trying on his part, right?”

  “You’ve got that right,” she snapped, still irritated by his accusation, and then turned it on to him. “Now why did you come in here so angry?”

  He sighed, and he looked away from her like he was embarrassed. “I’m not angry. I was just surprised. Maybe I’m just tired, too. It’s been a long day and you know we didn’t get much sleep,” he said, with a small, disarming smile. “I’m sorry I came in here with an attitude.”

  “I might have been a little upset, too,” she admitted. Because of Jared, her guard had been raised, and she’d turned it on Quin. “It was just weird seeing you with Jared.”

  “It’s probably best to call it a night, huh?”

  “Yeah, perhaps. It’s been a big day.” He paused. “Are you okay? Has he hurt you or anything?”

  “No. I’m fine. He’s in more danger of being physically hurt on this boat than I am,” she assured him.

  “I can’t believe he invited you here for whatever he wants to do. How he could do that to an employee? Why did you say yes? Why did you come?”

  Celia could tell by the way his fists clenched and his jaw tensed that Quin was angry, and she thought about telling him the truth about her plan to destroy Jared, she didn’t. But the fewer who knew about it, the better. And she still wasn’t quite sure how deeply entrenched he was with Jared or Seacoast Prestige. How far would he go to protect his business deal? Was there any loyalty in the friendship that they’d recently rekindled? So, she decided to omit the truth. “He’s my boss. He wanted me to come, so I did.”

  Quin scowled. She realized then that he hadn’t manipulated her the night before. She believed that he was there for business, and not on the boat as Jared’s friend, or someone who shared his deplorable set of values.

  “Hey!” she snapped. “I am perfectly fine looking after myself.” He scoffed. “I’m not the same meek girl I was in college. I’m strong, and I’m capable. I know how to protect myself and would have fared perfectly well...with or without you here.”

  He looked her up and down, just as Jared had, but the way Quin looked at her didn’t leave her with the cold shiver that Jared’s gaze did. Everywhere Quin’s eyes went lit a flame that scorched every inch of her skin.

  “But I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

  He took a step closer to her. “Me, too.”

  It was Celia’s turn to step toward him. In her small cabin, she could smell his cologne...and it was intoxicating. He reached out and stroked her arm.

  “I thought you were tired,” she told him.

  “I just found some energy. Are you still tired?”

  “Not anymore.”

  He kissed her lips. “I thought we were just friends,” he said.

  “We are friends,” she assured him.

  “With certain benefits?” he asked. Quin stepped closer so that they were chest-to-chest. “If you insist,” he said, before taking her lips again in a blistering kiss.

  * * *

  If there was anything that tasted as sweet as Celia’s lips, he had no idea what. But after having one taste, he didn’t know if he would ever get enough.

  She pushed back. “But for real, though,” she said. “We’re just friends.”

  “You got it,” he said, kissing her again. He would be her friend—he’d be more than that, less than that. Just as long as he could keep kissing her. “This is just an aberration because we’re on a yacht in the middle of the Caribbean,” he said between kisses on her sweet lips.

  “And that’s all this is.”

  “Absolutely.”

  He walked her to the bed and followed her down as she leaned back on to the mattress. They’d had sex before, but it felt like a lifetime ago and he needed her again.

  He pulled down her strapless sundress, revealing to him that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her full breasts were on display. He hummed in appreciation and lowered his head to take one of her rosy nipples between his lips. She moaned and he flicked at the nub with his tongue. She pushed her hands through his hair.

  “Tell me what you like,” he said, kissing the valley between her breasts. She hesitated for so long that it made him raise his head to look at her. She looked like she had something on her mind. “You still here with me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what is it?”

  “What?” she asked.

  He planted a kiss on one nipple. “Tell me,” he said, before going to the next and giving it the same treatment. “What—” he kissed the other “—you like.” His punctuated the sentence with a kiss on her lips.

  “Oh, I don’t know, it seems like you’re doing well enough on your own without my guidance,” she told him, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it from his shoulders.

  “I just want to know that you’re having just as good a time as I am.”

  She ran her fingernails down his chest. Her short nails left a trail of heat after them. “Oh, you’d better believe I am.”

  He pulled down her dress over her hips, and her lace thong came with it. She was completely naked, and if he had his way, he’d keep her like that forever. He kissed his way down her stomach, circled the indent of her belly button with his tongue and then ventured lower.

  The first time he’d had her—only that morning—had been wild and frantic, but he was determined to take his time now. He slid his tongue along the crease where her thigh met her center, and then slowly up the other side. He teased her, getting closer and closer to her center, but not touching her there. She shifted her hips around, attempting to come closer to his tongue, and she pressed down on the back of his head
. She hadn’t been quick to vocalize what her desires, but there was no doubt what she wanted from him now. And if they were just going to be friends, then he’d better savor their short time together.

  He rewarded her with what she wanted—his most intimate kiss. Using his tongue, he drew a line along her crease and then spread her lips and reached the target inside. He flicked his tongue against her clit, and she bucked her hips up from the bed. Her moan filled the cabin and he smiled against her. She didn’t need to say the words, but he could tell from the noises she made and the movements of her body exactly what she wanted.

  He used his fingers and spread her open, giving himself better access to her sweet heat. With his lips, tongue and teeth, he tasted her, licked, ate from her, and she moaned her satisfaction at every touch.

  She gripped the back of his head and pushed her hips against his face. Quin chuckled at her enthusiasm. But he regretted it when she stilled, the tension in her body slacking. “What are you laughing at?” she asked.

  He looked up at her. “I’m not laughing at anything.” He frowned at her tense expression. “Are you okay?” She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He needed to get her back to her relaxed state. He pushed himself away from her body, and he kneeled on the bed between her spread thighs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He took one of her feet in hand and placed his lips on the indent below her ankle. “Just relax.” He slowly kissed his way up her calf, licking the place behind her knee. He moved slowly—so slowly that he might die from his own need. But it didn’t matter, he wanted her completely at ease. He nibbled his way up her thigh and found his way back to where it met the other, where he’d been before. Her breaths were heavy, and the concerned tension had faded, replaced by anticipation. She was ready.

  He tasted her again, and her body responded immediately. He gripped her ass and brought her so close that she was tight to his mouth and he indulged himself in feasting from her. Her body bucked under his touch, and when he dragged two fingers down her crease and then pushed them inside of her, her upper half rose from the bed and she braced herself on her palms. Her breathing became rapid, and he knew she was close. Thank God, because he was about to burst.