by P. J. Mellor
“You’re such a dork.”
“But you love me,” he called from the other room.
Yes, she was beginning to suspect she really did love him.
There were a couple of problems with that, though. First off, how was she going to tell him the truth about the yacht? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should have just come clean about it from the get-go. But, in her defense, they’d just met. She’d thought it safer to assume the persona of a yacht owner with a staff who could show up at any time. And later…well, later, she’d just been a coward, plain and simple.
The second problem was the fact that she had to be back at the yacht by midnight to transfer the keys. Then she had to pack her belongings and catch her flight. Unless tonight went better than anticipated and Will offered her a job and begged her to stay. Since he thought she was one of the idle rich, the chances of that were slim to none.
Which took her right back to problem number one.
Sighing, she gave a little shake and tried relaxation techniques she’d learned in yoga class.
A glow announced Will’s return with two fat candles resting on thick, carved pedestals.
“Have a seat,” he said after placing the candles in the center of the table. “I’m just going to transfer the food to platters.”
That’s when she noticed the table was already set. “When did you set the table?” she called.
“I didn’t. It comes that way.”
“What do you mean, it comes that way?” she asked when he reentered the little dining room, carrying two large platters.
“Marta, my cleaning lady, sets it before she leaves. She calls it ‘staging.’”
“How often is that?” What did Marta look like? She hoped she was a hag.
He shrugged as he dished up shrimp jambalaya and dirty rice. “Three times a week, I think.”
“You think? You don’t know?” Appetite gone, she waited.
“Eat.” He took a seat at the other end of the table.
Smart man. He obviously knew he was in danger.
Heaving a sigh, he placed his fork on the edge of his plate. “She used to clean once a week, but she complained, saying I was a pig and she was going to have to charge more if I didn’t let her come twice a week. Then her husband left her, and she couldn’t find a regular job. I didn’t really need her the two times a week, but I told her if she needed more money, I’d pay her more. She refused. I told her I needed her to clean three times a week, minimum. She seemed okay with that.”
“But you don’t know, exactly, how many times she cleans your house?” It boggled the mind.
“No, I don’t. It’s no big deal, Beth. She needs the money. I have plenty. I leave it on the entry table every Monday. When I notice it’s gone, I replace it. In return, my house is always clean, my laundry is done, and my table is set.” He chewed and swallowed. “In all, not a bad deal.”
It wasn’t. And if he didn’t know when she came, obviously she wasn’t providing sexual services in addition to housecleaning.
Maybe she could choke down a little jambalaya after all.
The first bite left a trail of fire all the way to her stomach. Her eyes teared. Her nose ran. She drained a glass of ice water without coming up for air. “Hot!” She reached for his glass and drained it as well.
“Sorry.” He got up and refilled her glass, which she promptly drained. “I should have warned you—they add a couple shots of extra Tabasco to my order.”
“A warning would have been nice,” she finally rasped out.
Swiftly clearing the table, he said, “I had them put in cheesecake for dessert.”
Swiping at her watery eyes, she perked up. “I could eat cheesecake.”
When he returned, he took the chair next to her as he set a gigantic piece of cheesecake, covered in strawberry topping and whipped cream, at each of their places.
“Thanks for agreeing to eat in.” He swallowed, his eyes intense, burning holes in her shirt.
The look immediately made her nipples pucker beneath the soft cotton.
Her bite of cheesecake hung around in her throat for a few seconds, preventing speech. Finally she was able to swallow. “It’s nice. Private.” And I’m not wearing underwear, which is convenient, in case you get any ideas.
Nodding, he put his fork on his plate and reached for her hand. “I had a great time today. Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you,” she said, worrying he was about to dump her. “You’ve made the last few days exciting.” She swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. “I’ll think of you whenever I watch a movie.” Or go in a pool. Or dive. Or snorkel. Or, heck, just breathe.
“You talk like you’re leaving. Fall semester doesn’t start until, like, September, right? You’ll be around until then. I mean, if you’re just going to be cruising around on your yacht, you may as well hang out around Crystal Key.”
“Actually, I—”
“We can have a lot more dinners like this,” he said, scooting closer, turning her chair toward him. “I had a great idea, for you to not wear underwear.” His hand snaked up her skirt, tickling her labia. “Brilliant, even,” he said in a gruff whisper, plunging his finger deep within her wetness.
She gasped, dragging air into her starving lungs. Her back arched. How could she leave him, leave this?
“And eating here was another stroke of genius,” he continued, shoving her top up. “I couldn’t have done this in a restaurant.” He bent, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking deeply, while deep within her he moved his talented fingers.
Just the thought of him doing the things he was doing in a public place was enough to make her body spasm in a fierce orgasm, drenching his hand and the edge of her skirt.
Acting quickly, he relieved her of her soggy skirt and tossed her shirt across the room.
Naked, she shivered at the intense look on his handsome face as he lifted her to the table.
He reached for his cheesecake and took a fat dollop of whipped cream on his index finger, then dragged it over each of her sensitized nipples.
When he’d thoroughly licked her clean, he smiled.
“What?” she whispered.
He pulled his shirt off and flung it toward hers, then stepped out of his shorts.
“I was just thinking how much I wanted to do this the last time we were at Nick’s.”
She swallowed, eyes wide, as he approached. “Wh-what?”
“Strip you bare and lay you out on the table as my own private feast.” He nudged her thighs apart and bent to swipe his tongue over her moisture. “Then,” he said, stepping between her legs, massaging her vibrating thighs, “then I’d climb up on the table with you and fuck—” Clunk! “Oh, shit!”
Flames engulfed the table within seconds of him snatching her out of harm’s way.
12
“Who knew cheesecake was so flammable?” Beth mused, wrapped in a blanket, sitting next to Will as the firemen finished up.
“It was probably the combination of fat and the liquor in the strawberry sauce.”
Turning, she forced a smile. “Liquor? Were you trying to get me liquored up and have your way with me?” Placing her hand at her throat, she batted her eyelashes to let him know she was joking.
His mouth quirked in a small smile. “Yeah, how’d I do?”
“It was working…until everything went up in flames.” Unable to stop the laughter bubbling up, she put her hand over her mouth.
His laughter joined hers, and soon they were leaning against each other, dissolved in hysterics.
“You reached a whole new level of being hot and bothered,” he said through guffaws.
They’d already been checked by the EMT crew, so it was just a matter of thanking the firemen who’d responded.
After the trucks left, they made their way back into Will’s house, studiously averting their eyes from the bright yellow caution tape across the charred door of the dining room.
“I want to sleep with you,
but I’ll understand if you want me to take you home.”
In answer, she dropped her blanket, then shoved his from his naked body. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.
A quick shower to get rid of the smoke smell turned into much more as Will soaped and rinsed every inch of Beth’s body.
She came twice before he entered her from behind, pushing her breasts flat against the glass of his shower enclosure.
Tell him, tell him, tell him, her conscience told her with each of Will’s thrusts.
A shudder coursed through her body, tightening her muscles, blotting every thought from her mind except the exquisite feel of his body in hers, the rightness of the act they shared, as her climax overcame her.
Limp from the force of her orgasm, she lay draped over Will’s arms as he carried her to his bed.
Cool sheets caressed her bare back while Will caressed her front, heating her up again until her desire burned white hot.
He stroked oil over her breasts, between her thighs, kissing her strategically until she was writhing on the sheets, begging for release.
Begging for him.
Hushing her fretful murmurs with soft words she couldn’t decipher in her agitated state, he finally slid up her slick body until his erection probed her willing flesh and slid home.
They sighed.
In silence, he slid against her. In. Out. In. His hands gently stroked her damp hair, his thumbs stroking the tops of her ears. His mouth kissed hers, driving her desire into overload.
His thrusts increased in tempo, his breathing harsh against her ear, his arms clutching her tightly to him, their hearts dancing a passionate, thumping tango.
In an instant, they reached their release.
He collapsed on her, a welcome weight, their hearts beating against each other. The sound of their labored breathing filled the room.
Beth lay, staring into the darkness, long after Will’s breathing told her he slept.
Had she imagined his gruff words of love? Were they just spoken in the heat of the moment? She had never declared love while in the throes of passion, but she’d heard it happened with some people.
Her mind replayed their lovemaking. She wiped a tear away at the remembered intensity. And the tenderness.
Tell him.
She loved Will King.
And she couldn’t tell him how she felt until she told him the truth.
In his sleep, Will tugged her close. Sighing, she closed her eyes. She’d rest for a few minutes, then wake him up and tell him.
And then tell him good-bye.
The internal alarm clock that always told Beth when she needed to surface had her jackknifing in Will’s bed. Oblivious, he slept next to her.
A glance at the clock confirmed her fears. Less than half an hour remained until she had to be aboard the yacht.
Borrowing a shirt and shorts from Will, cinched with one of his belts, she searched in vain for a piece of paper to leave a note.
Another glance at the clock had her heading for the door. She’d just have to come back as soon as possible and tell him everything, pleading her case.
Hopping into the dinghy, she started the engine and motored toward the yacht, glancing back as Will’s house grew smaller.
She refused to allow herself to think part of her allure may have been her perceived wealth.
While fairly small, business-wise, Will’s shop appeared to be doing well. It may not need her perceived money, but her expertise would be an asset. While she could use the money working at the dive shop would bring in, she knew in her heart she’d work for free. She’d work for love.
As soon as she turned over the yacht, she’d pack her belongings and get someone to bring her back. Doing a timeline in her head, she figured she had plenty of time to confess and plead her case before her flight. If Will refused to listen, she would board the plane and take back memories. She had no choice.
Will rolled over, his hand connecting with cool sheets, and realized what had woken him from his sated sleep.
Beth was gone.
There was no point in calling to her. He knew, in his heart, he was alone in the house.
Still, he raised to look out at the dock, not surprised to see the dinghy gone.
No wonder she had insisted on taking the damn thing. Had she planned on making a quick, subversive getaway? He flopped back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
It didn’t matter. He loved her. And, in spite of the short time they’d known each other, he felt certain she loved him, too.
She’d be back.
Even if he had to drag her back.
It was where she belonged.
He rolled over and smiled against the pillow.
If things went as planned, by the same time the next night, he would be an engaged man.
13
When Beth returned to Salsa Time and turned over the keys, she quickly packed her belongings and then paced while she practiced what she was going to say to Will.
Kenny, the steward, knocked on her open door. “Beth, the water taxi is here.”
“Great.” She picked up her suitcase and dive bag, then looked around. “Thanks. I’m ready to go.”
“That’s all you have?”
“I travel light. My dive gear is crated and already waiting at the airport.” By planning ahead, she would be prepared if things didn’t pan out with Will.
“Beth?” Kenny glanced down the deserted hall, then lowered his voice as he reached into the inner pocket of his uniform blouse. “I have something I think you might want.”
“What? Did I forget something in the owner’s suite?” She mentally ticked off everything she’d packed.
Kenny smiled. Something flashed in his hand. A CD or DVD in a clear plastic case. “It’s the master copy from the video camera in the media room.” He pressed the case into her hand and whispered, “Don’t worry. It’s the only copy, and I already deleted it from the camera.” He winked. “I didn’t think you would want it hanging around here.”
Cheeks flaming, she gave him a quick thank-you hug. As she made her way topside, judiciously avoiding eye contact with other staff members, she was sure she heard a few snickers but kept walking.
Things didn’t go as Will planned.
A minor problem at the bank required Will’s personal attention.
On his way to the jewelry store to pick out a ring for Beth, his cell rang.
“It’s super busy, dude,” Chris’s voice echoed in his ear, conversations in the background making it hard to hear. “I need help, pronto!”
“Chris, you’re going to have to handle it.” He waited for a delivery truck, then crossed the street.
“But the shipment was here when I got here, and I haven’t even had a chance to open the boxes. I have a dive class scheduled in an hour—”
“Cancel it. Give them a free lesson. Whatever.”
“But—”
“Chris, listen to me. Cancel the fucking class!” Disconnecting, he averted his gaze from two old ladies, dressed in muumuus, who stood staring at him.
“Now what?” He was tempted to throw the phone in the storm drain when it immediately rang again. NICK’S SEAFOOD appeared on the readout. Great. What now? “Speak,” he barked.
Korine’s strident voice vibrated the earpiece. “You’d better get your fine little white fanny over here, boss! The assholes at the LiquorMart are trying to fuck us over again.” A male voice grumbled in the background. “Shut the fuck up, asshole! I’m talking to the boss. Don’t you walk out of here, or I’ll blow your ass to kingdom come.”
“Korine! Are you packing again? You know what happened last time.”
“Hunh. It wasn’t like it was concealed,” she argued. “I have it right here, in plain sight.”
“You don’t have a permit.”
“Permits are just a technicality.”
He sighed and gave a last longing look at the jewelry store. So near, and yet so far. “Don’t do anything until I get there.”<
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Chaos was the only way to describe the scene at Nick’s. Obscenities were flowing freely on both sides as Korine held the LiquorMart driver’s face pressed to the exposed brick wall, the business end of a very large handgun at the base of his skull.
From the kitchen came the sounds of the chefs’ semiweekly screaming match, their foreign obscenities echoing from the appliances.
The waitstaff and busboys looked as nervous as cats in a room full of rocking chairs, jumping and twitching at every little sound.
It took some doing, but he finally convinced Korine to put down her gun. Sorting out the liquor order took a little longer. He noticed the delivery guy kept a wary eye on Korine during their entire discussion.
“Okay,” he said an hour later, extending his hand to the man. “I’m glad that’s settled.” He leaned closer. “And I’m sorry about the little, ah, misunderstanding.” He shot Korine a reproachful look.
“Now, if you think you can manage,” he told Korine after the delivery man left, “I have some important business to take care of.”
“Huh.” Korine did an eye-roll, the gold sparkles in her liberally applied eye shadow flashing with reflected light. “I bet it’s with that little girl you were wining and dining night before last.” She nodded. “Yeah, I saw you looking all googly-eyed at her. I don’t know what she sees in your sorry ass, but if that’s what blows your skirt up, so be it. Go on. Get on out of here.”
Feldman’s Jewelry shop was the only one on the island, but Will was pleased to find they had an extensive selection.
Maybe too extensive, he decided, after looking at every ring in the store. He glanced at his watch. He’d planned to be engaged by now.
“This one is pretty,” Mr. Feldman said, extracting yet another ring from the showcase. “I don’t know any girl who’d turn her nose up at this ring.” He handed it to Will, then rocked back on his heels. “Tell you what. Seeing as how you’re a fellow business owner, I’ll give you the ring at cost, if you take it today. If your girlfriend decides she doesn’t like it, find a new girlfriend.” He laughed. “No! Kidding! Seriously, if for some insane reason she doesn’t like it, she can come back and exchange it.”