by Mayburn, Ann
His voice lowered dramatically on the last word, and her body perked up at the masculine rumble. Give him ten minutes alone with her and she was as horny as a nympho on her first day out of sex rehab. Emma was stronger than this; she would not be ruled by her hormones. He was an invasive asshole who’d crossed the line.
Yet she couldn’t move even an inch away from him.
“Deeper how?”
“The connection I felt with you last night is the real deal, not some kinky bullshit. I know you felt it just like I did, the desire that went beyond just ourselves to each other. Your pleasure was my pleasure and it always will be.” He strode towards her again and gently took her hand. “I swear I had only the best of intentions, Emma. Please give me a chance.”
She blew out a long breath, confused and more than a little overwhelmed. Her mind flipped between wanting to stay and needing to go until a tension headache threatened. She rubbed her eyes and sighed, pissed and sad that things had spiraled out of her control so quickly. All the hot daydreams she’d had about Ryan would go unfulfilled, but it was really better this way. He was utterly addictive, and she could not let him into her life in the way she wanted.
“I should go.”
“No, please stay. I swear I won’t try anything, but I really would love to spend the day with you doing vanilla stuff.”
A smile quirked her lips before she could stop it. “Vanilla stuff, huh?”
“Please, Emma, give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for. Just give me tonight.”
She looked down and stroked her hand over the full sleeve tattoo on his right arm, tracing her fingertips over an image of fierce looking man dressed in Middle Eastern finery and brandishing a sword. “Are you going to tell me a story so that I’ll let you live another night?”
“If that is your wish.”
Throwing caution to the wind, she let her heart open just the tiniest bit and looked up into his amazing dark eyes. “So, what does one do on a vanilla date?”
“Did you bring your bathing suit?”
“Yep.”
He picked up her bag. “Do you get seasick?”
“Nope.”
This time his grin was definitely mischievous and she could see the relief in his relaxed stance. “Come on, I have a surprise. It’s my favorite way to chill out and I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
Curious, she held his hand as he led her through his house, giving her brief glimpses of a well-decorated home that she barely paid attention to. Her gaze was focused on Ryan in a way she was sure was embarrassingly besotted-looking. Right now her heart was aflutter while her mind was pissed at the emotional pain she was setting herself up for. She wanted to pretend, to forget, just for a little while, that they were anything but a guy and a girl on a date without the complications of her life.
Ryan stroked her hand with his thumb, sending tingles of pleasure through her blood. “With your permission, I’d like to focus on you today. I’d like for us to have some fun and spend some time together just hanging out. Beyond whatever might or might not be happening between us, we were friends once and I’d like us to be friends again.”
The only kind of friend she wanted to be with him was the kind with benefits. Scratching her nails lightly over the side of his head, her mind filled with all kinds of very adult, very dirty, and very naughty fun. Her arousal woke with a vengeance and she shifted. Damn. Before she left her apartment, she’d brought herself to orgasm three times in an effort to cool the fire that now simmered through her body.
Ryan took Emma out into the backyard where she spotted an open motorized raft floating close to shore, one that was big enough to seat four people. Glancing at her bag in his hand, she arched a brow.
“Ummm, shouldn’t I go into the house to change?”
“Don’t worry; I have a place for you to change.”
She gave him a dubious look. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Trust me, Emma. You won’t be disappointed.”
“So what are we doing first?”
“Going for a ride.”
After seating her in the boat, he expertly pushed them off shore and slid over the side in a display of tanned male skin and muscles that made her weak. She watched him as he started the outboard motor, once again caught up in the flex and strain of his big body as he worked. This part of Ryan’s property was on the shore of Lake St. Clair in a small cove surrounded by trees. The water here was beautiful and she watched minnows swim around them before they were in deeper water. Taking in the beauty of the lake she smiled, then laughed when Ryan tossed a life jacket at her.
“Suit up.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. If anything happened to you it would kill me, so please put it on before I have a nervous breakdown.”
“You’re insane.”
“And your point is?”
Emma giggled at their effortless banter, raising her voice so Ryan could hear her over the increasing wind as he piloted them out of the alcove and onto the lake. Her hair whipped around her face and she smiled as she tried to hold it back. “I know why you’re bald now. Having long hair in wind like this is not good.”
“We’re almost there. I’ll brush out every tangle for you, Mistress.”
“Almost where?”
“My yacht.”
He pointed and she turned to the right. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a massive, three level, ginormous white boat. No, not a boat, a yacht. Like the kind Jay-Z or James Bond would own.
Holy shit.
“That’s my Mazu.”
“Your what?”
“The yacht, her name is Mazu, after a Chinese water goddess who protects sailors.”
The closer they got the more apparent it became that the “boat” was bigger than anything she’d ever been on, other than a cruise ship. She’d grown up on the western side of the state on the shores of Lake Michigan and had been around boats her whole life, so she had a good idea at what it would cost to own a vessel like this and be able to maintain it and afford fuel for it. Big money…big…big money. Every inch of the vessel gleamed, making it look like something out of a picture used to sell boats or vacations to exotic destinations.
“Fuck me. That’s not a yacht; it’s a fucking ship.”
She hoped he didn’t hear her over the wind and tried to take a deep breath. Okay, so Ryan was loaded, like crazy drug lord loaded. But she couldn’t see him doing anything illegal, so his computer skills must be top notch. They were close enough now that she could see people in some kind of white uniform waiting for them on the little deck on the back of the yacht. When they pulled up, Emma tried to still her nerves as a handsome older man helped her out of the raft.
“Welcome Ms. Simonov. My name is Charlie and I’m the captain of the Mazu. We’re glad to have you aboard.”
He led her to the steps where a young woman waited at the top with a silver tray holding what looked like towels. After Emma took the stairs, she smiled at the clean-cut brunette.
“Hello, Ms. Simonov. Can I offer you a fresh towel?”
The faint scent of lemons drifted up from the towels and Emma took one with a smile, wiping down her hands. “Thank you.”
Ryan came up behind her and gave her a casual caress along her arm, ending with their fingers twining together as they held hands. His smile lit her up inside and out as he studied her. “See, I told you that you could trust me.”
“That remains to be seen, but I admit I wasn’t expecting anything like this. You have a beautiful ship.”
“If you’d like, I can show you around, or we can just go inside and relax. I’m here for your pleasure.”
She flushed and darted a glance at the girl still holding the tray of towels. She must have been taught during her crew training how to remain impassive because she stared off into the distance as if Emma and Ryan weren’t there.
“I’d like to see it first, please. By the time we’re done I’m sure I’ll be more than ready to relax.”<
br />
“Your wish is my command. Come on, let’s get changed into our suits first so we can go for a swim.”
Her heart fluttered again and she tried to ignore the warning signs that she was falling for a man she couldn’t have.
Two hours later, she was in her black bikini with its cute gold wrap, standing between Ryan’s strong arms as he helped her steer his yacht along Lake St. Clair. She’d never been on a boat this big and was still more than a little stunned that Ryan could afford something like this. In high school, he’d never been one of the kids with the hottest clothes and a shiny new sports car. She was proud of his success and admired him for all he’d accomplished. Feeling a little, well a lot, superficial, she couldn’t help but look around at everything with a small sense of awe. She’d never been around this kind of luxury and it was weird seeing it in real life instead of in a movie.
With three levels, a hot tub, and other crazy over-the-top luxury shit, the yacht was more like a floating five-star hotel than something that moved through the water. Her one experience on a cruise had been nothing like this. The windows on the bridge had been opened, and as the cool breeze blew against her face, she tilted her head back and laughed, the day too beautiful to allow dark thoughts to linger.
“This is so much fun!”
He leaned down so she could hear him. “Ready to go a little faster?”
“This isn’t as fast as it can go?”
“Nope.” He Ryan moved closer to the controls and flipped a couple switches. The giant engines hummed with power and Emma’s body tingled with a rush of adrenaline. She had the oddest sensation of nerves, feeling like she was standing at the top of a giant hill with her sled. The song, Home by Phillip Phillips started playing, and Ryan stood behind her again. He rested his hands on her hips and she welcomed his solid presence.
“Ready, Mistress?”
The teasing way he said it made her smile and she nodded. “I just steer, right? You’re going to do everything else?”
“Trust me; I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Today is about your joy.”
She blinked behind the awesome new Dior sunglasses he’d provided her with and tried to pretend that she was tearing up from the wind. “I’m going to owe you a hell of a blow job, aren’t I?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Hang on, sweetheart; I’m going to open her up for you.”
An especially dirty image came to Emma’s mind about Ryan holding open a female submissive’s thighs for his Mistress’s perusal. She tried to keep her focus on steering, because the boat was gaining speed at an alarming pace. In the far distance, the shore of Grosse Point raced by and Emma spotted other boats dotting the waters around them. It seemed like there was a secret subculture among the boaters, and she loved how friendly everyone was.
Ryan pressed up against her and the sensation of his erection pushing into her barely covered body had her moaning. He stiffened behind her, then dipped his knees slightly so he could rub up against her bottom. The long, hard length of his cock slid over her ass cheeks and her legs grew weak. He laughed as she sagged into him and stood up, pulling her against him.
“No passing out on me yet. I have plans for you.”
They gradually slowed and she took in the late afternoon golden rays of the sun sparkling off the water. They were pretty far out now, but still close enough so that they’d be able to see the lights of the coastline during dinner, at least that’s what Ryan had promised her. So far, he’d overwhelmed her with gentle affection, showered her with attention and catered to her needs. The best part was that she knew he didn’t expect anything in return. If she ended the evening with nothing more than a smile he would be satisfied.
But she wouldn’t.
She wanted Ryan, wanted him bad, and was dying for his kiss. The way he’d been staring at her mouth made her pretty sure the need was mutual. Yet he hadn’t tried anything other than occasional, gentle reminders that he was aroused by her. She liked that as well, liked him filling her need to feel him against her, to show her how much he enjoyed her. By him doing that she could also know what he liked, what aroused him, though so far today their interactions had been less than risqué.
She hoped that changed soon.
He rubbed his lips against her ear, sending pleasant little tingles through her body that settled into her already-sensitive pussy. “If you would come downstairs with me, I have a surprise for you.”
“Do tell.”
He grinned, and after taking her hand, led her down two decks to the main living space. It was enormous, and she was pretty sure it was bigger than her entire apartment in Madison Heights. Three different groupings of furniture were scattered about in the lovely, navy blue and gold toned room. Windows surrounded the room and she took a quick glance out at the water before returning her attention to the interior. The furniture had been moved over to the side, and in its place, stood two giant massage tables and two smiling women.
“Emma, I’m sure you remember Terry, our chef, and Jane, our baker. They’re also certified massage therapists. If you’re in the mood, I’d like for us to get a massage together.”
She was already shucking off her wrap. “Where do you want me?”
Terry patted the table with a smile. She appeared to be around Emma’s mother’s age with a very maternal air that was almost relaxing. “Right here, Ma’am.”
“Please, call me Emma.”
“Thank you. Do you have a preference for what type of massage you’d like, Emma?”
“Just a stress-reducing one, please. What would you recommend?”
“Hmmmm…how about a Swedish massage?”
“Perfect.”
Emma hesitated as she reached for the straps to her top. She was usually nude for her massages, but she wasn’t sure about being naked in front of Ryan right now. Not only because of this oddly intense thing going on between them, but also because she didn’t want an aroused Ryan pitching a tent under his towel. Both women were old enough that it would be like having Ryan sport a boner in front of her mom. She glanced over her shoulder at Ryan and found him watching her like a hawk.
“Mr. Darwish, please give her some privacy,” Jane admonished with a small smile.
It was hard for Emma to stifle her giggles when Ryan rolled his eyes, but he obeyed and turned his back. Moving quickly, she stripped out of her bikini and smiled at Terry. “Front or back?”
“Back first, please. Are you sore anywhere?”
“My feet are always sore from wearing heels and I tend to carry tension in my neck and shoulders. Other than that, I’m actually pretty relaxed.”
She pondered her unusually relaxed state as Terry arranged a towel to cover Emma’s breasts and pubic area while leaving a section of her stomach exposed. By all accounts she should be knotted up right now from her earlier stress, but instead she found it surprisingly easy to just lie back and let go. A few moments later the table next to her creaked as Ryan climbed on it. He wore a pair of boxer briefs and he laid on his stomach, turning to look at her.
When he mouthed the words “you’re so beautiful” she found herself looking away from him in a shy gesture that was unusual for her. It was too unsure, too fragile a move for the clients who played D/s games with her. When her gaze met his again, her breath froze in her chest as he held out his hand. The beds were close enough that they could easily touch if they wanted to. She absently wondered if he’d requested it this way, then quickly realized he had. Ryan’s attention to detail was phenomenal, and it hurt her heart in an odd way to realize that Ryan knew more about what she liked than her ex. From the snack of strawberries and champagne to remembering songs she’d liked in high school, Ryan made her feel cared for…valued even.
Red warning lights went off in the back of her mind, but she was too relaxed to let them take hold. She’d been under so much pressure lately, and her body needed this release. So at least for right now, Emma would pretend that she wasn’t having butterflies flitting through h
er stomach every time Ryan gently rubbed her hand with his thumb and that she didn’t intend for this to be their last time together.
When Terry began to massage her feet she closed her eyes, but kept her hand resting comfortably in Ryan’s. He stopped moving and just held her as, inch by inch, Emma’s body seemed to sink into the table, inch by inch. Terry must be a goddess in human form. That could be the only explanation for the lovely feelings of complete relaxation flowing through her. For what seemed like forever she held hands with Ryan as they both got worked over. The rough grunts that he let out when his masseuse hit a tight spot sent little bursts of arousal through her.
The only time they stopped holding hands was when they were told to flip. While Ryan didn’t have an erection, he was still a big enough boy that even while he was soft, it was easy to see the shape of his cock. Emma mused that a dick that size could hurt a girl if she wasn’t careful. Ryan would have to give her lots and lots of foreplay, because she would need to be heavily aroused to do take him all the way without unwelcome pain. Just the thought of the broad head pushing into her caused her breathing to pick up.
When she glanced back up to his face she saw that he was giving her a very smug look. She stuck out her tongue then closed her eyes but gave his hand a little squeeze. She liked holding hands with him even if he was a brat. In some ways, it was a novel experience for her. Although she was a monogamist, Emma’s relationships had always started out hot and heavy right out of the gate. Sex on the first date wasn’t something she was ashamed of enjoying. Denying herself pleasure seemed like a silly thing. But with Ryan she allowed him to give her the slow buildup that would lead to something powerful and dangerous.
Her nipples peaked with arousal and she flushed while Terry worked her hand. No more sexy time thoughts until this was over. Being turned on while the motherly woman massaged her struck Emma as being too weird.
Instead of focusing on who Ryan was now, she went through her memories of him when he was younger. He’d been quiet, kind of shy, and his hair had been long enough to reach his neck. Shallow bitch that she was in high school, she’d never considered him hot. He’d been skinny and tall with features that he hadn’t quite grown into yet. But he’d been funny, and he’d been kind. She could remember laughing with him while they worked on their high school newspaper together. She’d known he had a crush on her, but had easily dismissed it as nothing serious. God, she wanted to go back and kick her younger self in the ass for skipping over Ryan for a couple of dumb-ass jocks. She’d thought him too immature for her, but it turned out she was the immature one, not him. He’d certainly kissed her like a man. The thought of his lips pressing to her body had Emma’s arousal surging off the charts while Terry massaged her calves.