Glancing down, I see my body is covered in what can only be described as a wrapped bathing suit. I wonder at the mastery of art and devilish placement of knots. With the water no longer bathing us in warmth, I shiver.
A large towel wraps around my body and I look up to see a devilish smile play around the edges of Reece’s mouth.
“It’s time for an excursion,” he announces, stepping out of the shower.
“An excursion?” I nearly stutter.
“Yes, pet. I told you we are getting out of the house today.”
I look down at my body and back up to him, the question clearly written across my face.
“Don't worry, I have a cover-up for you. Trust. In every way,” he says and leans down to kiss my forehead.
I watch him walk out of the shower and into the adjoining room. My hands move across the rope and send a thrill up my spine. For so long, everything in my world was controlled so tightly that the smallest thing was known. There I thought I’d found freedom in lifting my carefully built world. Yet here I stand, covered only in rope, about to embark on an excursion beyond the walls of this house.
Once again, Mr. Gabriel’s mastery shines a light across my cracking world. A smile lifts around the corners of my mouth.
With the confidence of a new fawn, I step out on shaky legs. Arousal pulses through me and my body sings in the snug embrace of the rope.
I step into the sun-flooded room. Reece is dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a teal blue polo shirt. He’s slipping his feet into a pair of dock shoes when he notices my movements.
“Ready to face the world again, pet?” He grins.
I pull the towel tighter around my rope-covered body and lift an eyebrow.
“Yes. That is what you are wearing this morning, under this.” He steps around the bed and picks up a dress along the way.
“Drop the towel, Atlas.” His gaze sweeps across me as his fingers trail down the side of my face.
Unceremoniously, the towel falls to the floor. Reece chuckles. His hands make quick work of draping the sundress across my body. Then he drops to his knee and places a sandal on each foot.
“Let’s go explore the world, Ms. Devereaux.” He offers the crook of his elbow.
“You’re incorrigible,” I say and roll my eyes at him.
“You think this is incorrigible? The day is young and I’m just getting started.” With that, he takes a step toward the door and I shake my head in his wake as I try to keep up with his quick steps.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The drive down the coast is peaceful as Reece’s hand lies gently on my knee. In the sky, the Caribbean sun brightens up the day in stunning glory. In front of us, a small van moves down the road in the same pattern. Behind us, another van follows. It is the first significant reminder of the security detail which surrounds me day and night here.
Fifteen minutes later, we pull into the top of the marina. Each vehicle pulls alongside the next. Around us, people mill about checking ropes and sails or drinking and socializing. I am suddenly self-conscious of the rope beneath my dress. Its bumps shape an indistinct outline through the fabric. I run a hand down my torso and sigh.
Reece squeezes my knee.
“I’ve got you.” His full wattage smile melts my doubts a little, and I nod.
The door on either side of the car opens simultaneously. The large hand of the bodyguard helps me from the car, and I step out into the brilliant sunlight.
Reece rounds the back end of the car, smiling down at me.
“You look gorgeous,” he murmurs against my temple, then takes a step back. “Shall we go sailing?”
“Well, that’s definitely an excursion.”
Beside me, Reece chuckles and takes my hand.
We wind through the docks of the marina with two bodyguards in tow. All around us, sails luff in the wind and the gentle tink of the halyards clinks against masts. At the end of a long dock, an inflatable tender sits with an idle motor.
Behind the wheel, a man nods at Reece in recognition.
“Shall we?” His hand waves to the small boat.
“This isn’t a sailboat,” I say dryly.
“Observant.”
“Is there a reason it isn’t docked in the marina?”
“Yes. I like this location, but she won’t fit.”
“There are fifty-foot sailboats all over this marina.”
Reece simply nods.
“If I’d docked her at Christophe Harbor, she’d be a small boat too,” he smirks. “Now, shall we?”
He hands me into the tender. At the bow, boxes of provisions line either side. Once I’m settled on the side of the large inflatable, Reece and the two bodyguards step in. The tender rocks hard under the shift, and I startle.
“Don’t be afraid, Ma’am, she’ll stay upright in far more violent situations than boarding.” The captain smiles back at me.
Once everyone is settled, the two men onshore cast off the ropes. The captain deftly moves the tender through the marina traffic and picks up speed.
Reece’s strong arms wrap around my waist, and I settle back against his hard chest. His fingers graze and pluck across the ropes hidden under my dress. The wind stings against my eyes but it is like flying across the water. I close my eyes and let the wind whip through my hair, breathing in the heavy salt air.
The boat slows and I open my eyes as we pull to against the back diving platform of the yacht.
“Welcome aboard, Ms. Devereaux.” A man in white shorts and a white button-down shirt beams at me and offers me a hand up.
Behind me, Reece steadies me against the rocking boat as jet skis buzz around us. Once I step onto the platform, the rocking ceases.
“Welcome back home, Mr. Gabriel.” He turns to Reece when he steps in behind me.
“Thanks, Jack. How soon until we cast off?”
“As soon as the provisions are stowed, we can get underway.”
“Just enough time for a quick tour.” Reece turns and smiles.
I follow him through the open cockpit and into the cabin.
“She’s huge,” I whisper to Reece’s back.
“She’s only thirty-one meters.”
“Only.” I roll my eyes when he turns back around and shake my head.
A large saloon flanks us on the left with a U-shaped bench and table. Light spills in from the large skylights on either side of the large room. To the left, a large, well-appointed galley gleams in the sunlight, the stainless steel appliances shining like diamonds.
“This is the sailing yacht Escape from Reality. She’s thirty-one meters long, or just under one hundred and two feet, if you prefer.” He grins down at me like a kid with his favorite toy as he rattles off her dimensions and name. Pride radiates from him. “She was originally custom built for my grandfather in nineteen eighty-two. When I acquired her, she was in bad shape and is restored from the ground up with all the latest technology built into her.”
“She’s breathtaking.” I glance around the cabin. The care and attention to detail is evident in every corner. The neo-classic design is the perfect blend of classic and elegance. In every cabin, sunlight pours in through well-placed skylights. The head in the master suite is tastefully done in gray marble, easily complementing the teak, white leather, and stainless accents throughout the cabin.
“Thank you,” he says, pulling me through to the sleeping cabins. “She can sleep eight. There is a Master back here with its own head. A double and a bunk twin cabin for other members of a cruising party. Crew quarters are below. She normally sails with a crew of four, but this trip she will sail with six.”
The words are supposed to assure me of my safety, but they only serve as a reminder that the surrounding threat is real. Still, I force a smile across my face. His enthusiasm is infectious.
Underneath our feet, the engines rumble to life.
“Let’s go up on deck. You’ll love the view of the island as we pull away from our mooring.”
Reece leads me back through the small maze of rooms and back onto the deck. The crew focuses on each other as the anchor raises and they cast the lines off the mooring ball.
The yacht starts forward and cuts easily through the water under the motor’s power. At the helm, Jack looks comfortable at the control and smiles as we pass.
We walk along the deck. His hand wraps around the ropes against my lower back, pulling the entire harness tight.
“Standby to raise the main!” Jack calls from the helm.
“Main sheet ready,” comes the response from the crew.
“Raise the main,” he calls back to them.
“Main sail made.”
The large main sail climbs the mast in a steady rhythm. It is an awesome sight. As it reaches the top, it luffs in the wind.
“Stand by to bear away.”
“Ready!”
“Bearing away.”
The yacht moves and the sail fills. The sound of the motors is the only sound across the large boat. Hand signals and commands continue between the crew until three sails bend in the wind. With one last command, the engines die. Silence surrounds us. Only the lapping of the water against the hull breaks the serenity. The wind shifts and the sails luff, only to be pulled back into measure a minute later.
The large yacht cuts through the water effortlessly. I’m lost in the glorious freedom of flying across the water. In a trance, I move toward the bow of the boat and Reece releases his hold. I do not notice if he follows behind, but I’m drawn forward toward the sea and sit inside the bow pulpit. The wind flows around me, and my muscles relax, just taut enough to move with the pitch and yaw of the boat. Open ocean surrounds us as far as the eye can see. Here, a small dot in a grand sea, I finally escape from my harsh reality.
“Strip.” Reece’s command startles me.
“But the crew…” I start.
“Is my problem.”
He helps me stand. I pull the dress over my head. My eyes dart toward the crew busy with various chores across the deck. In his left hand is a large bamboo rod, easily four inches in diameter. I eye it warily.
“My boat needs a figurehead,” he states.
Beside his foot, a large bag of rope sits in a pile. A crewman hands him a large stainless rod and they fasten it into the deck. I note the grin they both share and tremble in anticipation.
“Stand on this box and face the sea,” he says, nodding to the small square box in front of the pole.
I do as I’m bid. He grasps my shoulder and the rope snakes around my wrists, flying through his fingers. With a quick tug, my arms are jacked up behind me and cinched back down to the rope around my waist. His touch is cool and decisive. He knows exactly what he wants and is not willing to wait for me to follow.
The bamboo rod pushes through the opening of my arms, forcing my back to arch. He pushes me forward, and the bamboo rod catches against the steel. When he is satisfied, he bends down and pushes my feet together, wrapping the rope down both legs until it resembles a mermaid’s tail. In a final flair, he wraps the rope around my hair and pulls it back to attach to the steel rod pointing skyward.
“Forward bend!” He issues the order.
The warm bodies surround me and the whole apparatus moves forward until I am at a forty-five degree angle to the water. Only the ropes secure me in position. Each one bites into my skin, forcing muscles to tense and release.
Reece walks in front of me.
“A beautiful figurehead for my ship,” he says, gazing into my eyes.
My entire world sits in his hand. His strings push and pull my body as the yacht rolls through the waves.
His hand grazes a path down my body. Each touch sensitizes the skin underneath the rope. There’s nowhere for me to hide. Arousal flames through me, and the heat of my embarrassment flushes across my cheeks. I can do nothing but accept his probing gaze across my body. The sweetness of being helpless before him washes over me.
“Mine,” he whispers against my temple.
Between my legs, a low vibration buzzes against the ropes.
“I can’t!” I hiss and wiggle in the rope.
“Oh dearest, you have no choice. You are caught like a mermaid aboard my ship and I will have my way with you.”
The vibrator moves up my body. Every length of rope vibrates across me until I am consumed with need. Waves of pleasure crash over me, building my need toward a new rising crest. The boat rides high on a wave and crashes down on the other side, spraying us both with water, forcing Reece to move his hand.
“Looks like Neptune isn’t ready for you go over the edge yet,” he says with a wicked smile.
I strain against the bond, thrashing with the waves of pleasure and the bites of pain. Groans of disappointment and anticipation follow each move of the vibrator when he takes it away. I grind openly against the rope, begging the god of the sea for sweet relief. Over and over he pushes me to the edge of ecstatic agony. His power consumes me.
“Come for me, pet.” The soft words break the last hold and my body quivers and thrashes against the ropes, giving in to the blind pleasure. As the wave crests, I expect the vibrator to stop, but he only presses it harder against the ropes, demanding the knot against my clit push me over the edge.
The pattern continues. He wrings the next orgasm from my body until I scream out in pain and pleasure. My body sags against the ropes.
Words surround me, but I do not comprehend them. Once again, they lift my body until the steel rod points skyward. The box is shoved under my feet and I sigh with relief. With care, he unwinds the ropes from my legs and works up my body. As my legs give out, Reece catches me in his strong arms and lowers me to the deck. Everything in me is disoriented and I sit naked, wrapped in his arms. A blanket engulfs me. I give over to the heady sensations coursing through my body.
“Drink,” he commands and presses the water bottle to my parched lips. I drink like a woman lost in the desert. When I’ve had my fill, a smile creeps across my face.
“That was incredible,” I murmur.
“From the height of mountains to the darkest parts of our souls, we share this journey together.”
I nod and let the yacht rock my weary body to sleep in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The gentle sway of the boat tells me we aren’t moving. I stretch out the tension in my sore body. Rope bite marks line across my skin. Everything in me is at peace. My mind is still for the first time in far too long. It truly is an Escape from Reality.
I move toward the head and eye the shower. The saltwater from the earlier spray sticks like a crust on my skin and I give in to the indulgence. Warm water pulsates against the dents across my skin. My slick hands run along my body, the shower gel adding to the sensation. I think about the last few weeks and smile. In my chest, my heart pounds in anticipation of the next delicious adventure. Happiness fills me and I give in to it. I allow myself to revel in the joy of having this man in my life. The world is lighter, and the fear recedes to the darkest corners. With him I can take on the world.
Stepping out of the shower, I knot the towel around me and wince when it pulls against the rope bites. A jar of balm sits on the bedside table.
“Use generously. It will help with the ache. ~R"
The small handwritten note makes me smile as I twist off the lid. Dipping my fingers into the thick ointment, I smear it across my sore skin. Everywhere it touches, a line of fire follows in its wake until it calms to a slow smooth cooling burn. I force myself to apply the horrible cream across all the areas of my body until I am a mixture of fire and ice.
Picking up the cotton shirt, I glance at the bra. There is no way I’m going to put the bra against the rope abrasions. Sliding the fabric across my skin, I get dressed. The clothes are itchy and uncomfortable. Each layer adds a restriction I do not appreciate.
Wrapping my hair up in a knot on my head, I admire myself in the mirror. The hard peaks of my nipples push brazenly against the thin fabric of my shirt. S
trands of hair fly out in all directions in a windswept look. I shake my head and eye the bra again. In a moment of defiance and need for comfort, I turn and exit the room.
The smell of garlic and herbs wafts in the air and my stomach growls in response. When I surface onto the deck, I’m met with the bustle of the crew preparing for our evening meal. Across the cockpit, Reece speaks into a satellite phone.
“Good evening, Devereaux,” the captain says, and all eyes turn toward me.
Reece’s head snaps in my direction, the heavy look of concern melting into delight as I step into the cockpit.
Beside me, a silver tray appears and the crewman smiles.
“Sundowner, Ma’am?”
“Thank you.”
I pick up the cream colored drink from the silver salver and take a sip. A mix of rum and coconut rolls gently across my tongue. With enthusiasm, I take a large gulp.
“Careful there, killer,” Reece says with a chuckle.
“It’s good. What is it?”
“A painkiller.”
I stare up at him with a look of disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. The crew thought you might need it after your rather long day.” A wry grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. His eyes run down my body and pauses on the taut nipples pressing against the fabric.
“I like this look on you,” he murmurs and ushers me toward the cockpit table.
Across the bow, the sun sets low in the sky. Soft waves lap against the hull of the yacht. In the distance, lights wink from boats in preparation for the setting sun. The soft clink of the halyard rings against the mast. The balmy evening is the perfect setting to the spectacular light show as the sun begins its journey down past the horizon. I swallow the last of my painkiller as the sun dips below the horizon and its last rays reflect across the dark sea.
Reece lays a firm hand against my back and steers me to the table. Once we are settled, a crewman pours both mineral water and white wine into the glasses on the table. From the galley below, Josephine appears with two beautiful plates. The fresh pasta makes the perfect bed for the seafood medley, topped with Parmesan and micro greens, drizzled in olive oil. I close my eyes and inhale the fragrant aroma of seafood, garlic, and herbs.
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