The driver opened the back door, and the salty tang of the ocean rushed inside. Warren had said a boat.
One by one, the men escorted their dates out of the limo. Warren led Ellen out first. Derek followed, helping Sally with his hand held out to steady her on her heels. Karl all but dragged the ever-quiet Justine out of the car, a dark expression clouding his face.
Chilly air whispered over Sally’s bare skin, and a heavy scent of brine clung to the moist air. The gentle lapping of water against a pier created a calming counterpoint to the riot going on inside her body. She’d expected a fancy restaurant. Instead, they had pulled up to a marina.
Low, mournful calls of sea birds filtered down from overhead; birds perched on over-hanging wire, in the rigging of boats, or flapped lazily overhead. Just past nine o’clock, the birds were in the process of settling down for the night. Those who flew over the marina dove into the dark waters hunting for a late-night meal.
She brought both hands to cover her mouth. Surprised? No, this was something more.
Derek’s grin split his face. His eyes twinkled like a little boy who had a secret he couldn’t wait to share. The comforting presence of his hand pressed against the small of her back and the warmth of his breath whispered down her neck.
“What do you think?” He led her up to a long line of steel security fencing, his tone hopeful.
Sally breathed in the rich aromas of the salty night air and glanced around at the array of yachts snugged tight in their berths. Wind whistled through rigging. Ropes creaked and twisted against their moorings. Water lapped at the hulls of the boats, and far in the distance, the faint baying of seals floated to her ears.
Street lamps lit the night, the light reflecting off the few scattered cars in the parking lot and shimmering on the rippling water. Spaced at regular intervals down the docks, small spotlights illuminated the cement docks. Coils of rope had been wound with fastidious care beside the mooring cleats, and large storage boxes marched onward, designating each slip. The entire place breathed money.
“I’m impressed.” More like floored.
This is where he planned to have dinner? It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination that one of these boats belonged to him or one of his friends. But which one? She wasn’t good at judging size, technically length and beam when it came to boats, but the nearest had to be close to forty or fifty feet long. Those parked further out grew in size and beam until, at the far end of the docks, majestic multi-million dollar pleasure yachts bobbed against their moorings.
Derek led her to a gate secured by an electronic security lock. He stole another kiss and pulled out his wallet. With a practiced flip, he grabbed a magnetic keycard and passed it in front of the scanner, disengaging the lock. His kiss never paused, migrating from her lips to the corner of her jaw, then onward to nibble at her ear.
She moaned as he licked along her neck, laying down a line of molten heat from her jaw to the soft hollow between her collarbones. Sally clutched his arms, head tilted back, and eyes closed in ecstasy.
Behind them, Karl gave a low, throaty growl, snapping her eyes open. He swept a squealing Justine over his shoulder and carried her down a ramp leading to the docks. She kicked and beat her fists against his back, but it was all for show, as it was clear she had no intention of escaping Karl’s grasp.
Karl waved a hand over his head and called out to Derek. “Take your time. I’m tired of behaving and ready to fuck.”
Derek sighed and ended his worship of Sally’s neck, sucking lightly on her skin. He pulled her to his side and wrapped her tight in his embrace. “I’m not responsible for him.”
Before she could respond, Ellen came to stand beside Sally. She smiled and then slipped off her heels. With a wink, she called to her husband. Warren was back by the limo, talking to the driver.
“I demand a count of fifty,” Ellen called out.
Warren looked up and laughed. “You get twenty, best make use of your time.”
Ellen gripped Sally’s arm and gave it a light squeeze. “See you on the boat.” She took off at a run, skipping down the ramp and giving a little squeak as she leaped onto the dock.
Warren walked up and shrugged, a mischievous smile attached to his face. “You might want to take your time getting to the boat.” He raised his voice and started counting. “One, two, three, four…” The count sped up, skipping most of the numbers. “Eighteen, nineteen, and twenty!”
Down the dock, Ellen’s shriek woke the roosting seabirds who squawked their annoyance and took to the air with angry cries.
“I think it might have been a mistake to invite my friends.”
Sally placed a hand on Derek’s arm. “So far, I have no complaints.” She adored his friends. Justine still hadn’t said a word, which was a little weird, but Ellen seemed not only nice but someone Sally could see herself being friends with once they got to know each other. As an extreme introvert, friends were a commodity in short supply. She had precious few and had never had a true girlfriend who she could share stories about boys, gossip, and life. George was her bestie, and while he tried, he didn’t understand the girly things in life.
“Don’t worry about your friends.” She could handle unconventional, or at least fake it if she had to. And Karl! Had he really said that out loud?
“Do you think we’ve given them enough time?” She scanned the docks. Karl had carried Justine off somewhere to the right where the larger boats were moored. Those were the true yachts, massive boats that sported three decks or more, and dripped with sleek elegance. Ellen had run off to the left, where the more reasonably sized boats were docked.
“Ah, no,” Derek said with a laugh. “I think we should give Warren a little more time. He enjoys the chase, perhaps more than the sex.”
“Warren? I was thinking more along the lines of Karl and Justine,” she said.
“Don’t underestimate Warren. For all Karl’s coarse exterior, he’s a teddy bear compared to Warren.”
“What does that mean?” Sally glanced at Derek certain there was more going on than she understood. Her insides churned. The butterflies danced, making her stomach feel queasy with the good kind of nerves. Her heart, well, her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since that last kiss. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Derek wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into his embrace, taking a deep breath to enjoy the richness of his scent. “My friends like sex, and aren’t shy about expressing themselves.”
She tensed in his embrace. Was that all this night was about? Him getting her in bed? What about getting to know each other? Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea. She’d never been a sleep-on-the-first-date kind of girl, although this was technically the second. Casual sex held little appeal. The few times she’d tried in college had left her feeling dirty and used. But, she didn’t get the sense he was talking about casual sex with her.
If she were completely honest, Thomas’ death was still too raw. It had been five years, but his memory lingered in her heart. She’d been celibate ever since, and that was okay. She hadn’t been ready to put herself out there, and honestly, another husband wasn’t on her radar. But she was lonely and finding someone to connect with again was something she wanted. Only, she wanted more than a simple connection. What that was? She hadn’t a clue.
As much as she adored her bestie George, she needed someone more than a gay best friend. Not that Derek was that man—it was too early to tell—but damn if he wasn’t close. She wanted to come unglued, something she’d never experienced with Thomas.
She entwined her fingers in his and tried to ease his fears with a few soft words. “Are you afraid your friends’ behavior will turn me off? You shouldn’t be.”
It made her wary as far as how he saw this night progressing, but she’d come willingly. Not for sex. She didn’t know if she was ready for that, but she’d decided not to let fear rule. Whatever was happening with Derek, she wanted to pursue it, not run from it.
He kissed t
he top of her head, a simple gesture, and very different from the fiery passion of his previous kisses. “Not exactly, but I don’t want you feeling pressured to do what they’re doing. That’s not why I brought you here. Whatever happens, whether sex is even on the table, belongs between the two of us. And we’ll have a conversation about it first. I’m interested of course.” He laughed. “You’re fucking amazing, but I’m looking for more.”
More? He wanted more too? But what did Derek mean when he said more?
“Um…okay.” She had no response to what he’d said, except whatever that more might be had her insides knotting up again.
The openness with which he expressed himself wasn’t something she was used to, and she lacked the social skills to deal with it. She and Thomas had a good sex life, but they never really discussed sex. It was fun, but looking back, lacking in some unidentifiable quality.
Derek said nothing for a time, then suddenly spun her until she faced him. Again with the finger under her chin, he tilted her head back.
“Have you guessed why Ellen calls Warren ‘M,’ or why Justine hasn’t said a word?”
Something in his tone told her that they had reached a critical juncture. Like he was revealing a crucial secret.
“No.”
“Are you familiar with the lifestyle?”
Her breathing hitched and things fell into place. “You mean kink?”
“No, I mean more.”
There was that word again, and him saying it heated her from the inside out.
With a slight shake of her head, she answered. “Only what people talk about after that movie came out.”
Mainstream media had brought about a revolution as far as exploratory sex was concerned. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit to more than a passing curiosity, but reading about it and participating in it were two completely different things. One was safe. The other was…well, the other stood right in front of her with the potency of possibility and exceptional danger.
Was this a rabbit hole she wanted to jump down?
His lips twisted. “That movie was a poor depiction of the lifestyle, but I can work with that.”
Work with that? A thrill shot down her spine and heat coiled between her legs, pulsing with a steady throb. Now, this was something new. Her body had never reacted like that before. Hell, his very words aroused her, touching not her body, but stroking her mind with sensuous heat. Yet again, something entirely new.
Perhaps she shouldn’t express too much eagerness, if that’s what that tiny burst of sensation represented. Was it the taboo topic which made it so titillating? Maybe she should call a cab and leave? But, then she’d never know what this deeper connection might be.
Bottom line, she had no idea what to do, and that terrified her as much as it aroused and frustrated her. The only reason she didn’t tuck tail and run was because regret would follow that decision. In many ways, she needed to see this through. The whole reason she’d even agreed to go to that first dinner with Derek was because she had reached a point in her grief where the next step had been one she needed to take.
Thomas had been her first love. A piece of him would always remain in her heart. And he hadn’t wanted her to live a life alone. His dying wish had been for her to find love again. That thought comforted her because honoring his memory meant the world to her. To do that, she had to move on. For now, that meant taking a chance with Derek.
He removed his finger from under her chin. “Don’t be surprised if Karl has Justine in a compromising position when we get to the boat. He’s an exhibitionist. And Warren, well, maybe I should show you some of the other boats in the slips for a bit?”
“Your friends have been sweet so far. Since we’re being so honest…” Wow, she’d never been this open about her feelings before, but Derek had a way of demanding she voice her innermost thoughts. She felt safe with him, which made it easy to comply. “I’m not worried about your friends, but I don’t know what I want to happen between us. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. I feel like I should make that clear.”
The low rumble of his laughter tunneled into her heart where it swept out the cobwebs and settled in. “Sally, I can guarantee you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If I thought for a minute you were that kind of woman, there’s no way in hell I’d be taking you out on my yacht, or even introducing you to my friends.” He placed a hand on her arm and gave a light squeeze. “Why don’t we relax, and enjoy the evening with no expectations of what should or shouldn’t happen?”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” she agreed. With great difficulty, she turned her mind from thoughts of sex with Derek and struggled to change the topic of conversation. “So, we’re having dinner on your boat?” He’d answered the question of whose boat it was.
“Oh, when I aim to impress, I go all the way. I’m taking you on a moonlit cruise.”
She bit her lower lip, loving the way her body responded to the cadence of his words.
“You said yacht. How big is this boat?”
“Large,” he said, without providing further details. “And for the record, size does matter.”
She was ninety-nine percent certain that last comment had nothing to do about his yacht.
“And by the way,” he said.
“Yes?”
“I have no intention of getting you home tonight. I hope that’s not a problem. There are plenty of berths on board for you to have your own cabin, but we’re going to cruise, enjoy dinner, and wake to a dazzling sunrise. I promised I’d get you home sober, and I intend to honor my word, I just never told you what time that might be.”
Ellen’s shriek cut through the air, followed by a low thwacking noise and another scream.
Derek gripped Sally’s hand and pulled her toward the ramp leading to the dock. “That’s our signal.”
She hesitated, and he released her hand. “Is she okay?”
“More than okay.”
“You said we were to be honest, and honestly, I’m not used to all this. I’m not sure I know how to behave.” She shrugged. “Be patient please.”
“I have all the patience in the world.”
Chapter 8
A Yacht
Derek did not take her directly to his yacht, choosing instead to walk down each of the docks showing her the different boats he liked and why. There was a schooner with a tall mast, small cabin, and a wheel at the stern.
“Someday, I want to sail around the world.” He grinned. “Always had a pirate fantasy.” He gave her a wink. “You could be my wench!”
“Your wench?”
His brow lifted suggestively. “Yes. You could help me practice my rope tying.”
There was no way he was speaking about regular rope work. Her education was severely restricted, and she determined once this night was over, to engage in a little research on the lifestyle. Sir and Master. Those two words meant more than she understood. There were the obvious connections forming in her head, but she sensed there was definitely more.
They passed a cigarette boat; he rattled off the specifications, all which went over Sally’s head. All she understood was the boat was super-fast. As they walked, the size of the boats increased. Instead of below deck cabins, walk-in cabins became prominent, as did the flying decks on top. Then they approached boats with portholes near the waterline, evidence of living quarters buried beneath the fancy one- and two-tiered decks.
Every now and then, Ellen’s squeal pierced the air, until one particularly high pitched shriek ended in laughter. Derek continued his tour, passing houseboats and catamarans. There was even a live-aboard tugboat moored at the end of one of the docks.
The boats bobbed on gentle swells. The air was damp and held a slight chill. And a distinct briny tang permeated every breath, filling her senses with its not quite, but almost, offensive scent. Overhead, the sky was free of clouds, and the evening fog common to the San Francisco Bay was absent, leaving them with a clear view of th
e moon and those few stars bright enough to be seen through the glow of the city lights. He stopped her at the end of the dock with the tug and held her close.
Sweeping a stray strand of hair off her face, he gathered her long hair into a ponytail, exposing the low neckline of her dress. Trying not to fidget proved more difficult than it should, but the way he looked at her, and the fire burning in his eyes, spoke to the depths of his desire.
He nibbled on her ear. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
“I like your hands,” she admitted. Which may be more forward than she was used to, but met with approval by him. Then her stomach rumbled, loud and intrusive. She placed a hand on her belly, mortified.
“Come, let’s get you fed,” he said.
He took her back the way they’d come, heading off in the direction Karl had carried Justine. The size of the boats doubled and then tripled, massive vessels for those with too much money to burn.
Derek stopped at an impossibly large boat, could it even be called a yacht when it was that big?
“Interesting name,” she said.
An elegant script penned the name Sea-duction across the transom and along the side.
“I thought so when I named her.”
“How big is it?” Sally’s gaze traveled from bow to stern and then she counted all the decks.
“She’s a little over one-fifty.”
“I’ve never been this close to a boat this large. I can’t believe I’m going to have dinner on one.”
“Not just dinner.”
Yes, not just dinner. He’d promised a cruise, and maybe something more.
“It’s amazing.”
A sky deck topped the vessel, barely visible dockside, but a soft yellow light made the open-air lounging area glow. Beneath the sky deck — she supposed it would be called an upper deck? — a second, larger open-air deck extended forward. The cabin amidships was fully enclosed. She thought the name for it was salon. It had large smoky windows looking out, and there was another open deck extending back from there. Below that was the main deck. Toward the stern, another open area caught her eye. Light rippled off the walls and ceilings from what looked to be a small pool. Twin support beams and cables suspended a dingy over the water.
Learning to Breathe: Part One - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 3 Page 5