“I imagined you fucking me like you mentioned earlier,” she said, letting the aggravation show.
But he just looked amused and removed the vibe completely while pulling something else out of the duffel. And then before she understood what he was doing, and because she’d been too irritated to pay attention fully, her eyes were covered and the room was dark.
And before she could even complain about her new state of affairs, he murmured, “Like this?” Then he slid the length of the vibe on full and fast vibration all the way inside her, her slick wetness easing the way.
She loved it, but just as he’d known, it was so far from what she really wanted. The narrow glide of the vibrator only served to remind her of what she didn’t have—him.
That said, the two prongs that were placed craftily over her clit were flaring all her nerve endings to life, catching her skin on fire, dragging all her intentions of letting him be completely in control out of the water. She wanted all of him inside her and she wanted it now.
“Isn’t this what it’s been like for you?” he asked, his voice deep as he watched her buck against him, urging him to give her more. “Not touching, not having anything but your imagination and this vibrator as a stand-in for me?”
She shook her head rapidly, anything for more.
“Imagine only having this for years. Every woman my parents tried to set me up with and I was more content with just having this, as unsatisfying and unfulfilling as it was. Because all that time it wasn’t you, but hell if just the little I had wasn’t enough.”
Then the blindfold was gone, the vibe was removed, and he was breaching her, his wide head finally giving her that stretch she’d been desperate for. They came together then. He unhooked her hands so she could hold him against her as he used her body, as she did the same to him, and she knew she had all of him and she gave him all of her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
OLIVER WOKE UP to an empty bed, which he hated after such an epic night with Molly. After that shitty phone call with his parents yesterday he’d been so enraged that he was surprised he’d pulled it together to speak at all, let alone have a coherent conversation that had ended in the hottest sex of his life.
A smile on his face, he went through his morning routine, knowing that Molly was somewhere on his yacht taking care of things. He suspected she was in the engine room as she normally was in the morning to make sure everything was functioning properly. She’d also do a run-through of the entire yacht, from the kitchen appliances, toilets, sinks, faucets, lights. He loved her thoroughness, loved watching her work. Loved her, really, which felt weird to admit to himself and not to her this morning.
But he knew he did. It had taken that conversation with his parents to realize it, to crystallize all the feelings he felt for her into one bright, beautiful thing. But if this lush lightness and simultaneous rich fullness that opened up inside him when he thought of her wasn’t love, he didn’t care to experience it because this was perfection enough.
Throwing on a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt, he was looking forward to today when they’d sail away from Grand Bahama Island, the chef now safely on board, for Nassau, one of his favorite places in the Caribbean.
When she wasn’t in the engine room, Oliver went to the kitchen, where he found her with her head inside one of the ovens and giving directions to the wiry British chef who’d come highly recommended.
A metallic bang sounded before she popped out, grinning when she caught sight of Oliver. “The oven had low power, apparently, but I fixed it,” she said, twirling a wrench in her hand. “The power from the main box was frayed so I replaced the wire. You should be good to go.”
Liam, the chef, regarded Molly with stars in his eyes. “You are a genius,” he beamed, and Oliver hated the stupid flip of the man’s abundant brown hair. And disliked it even more when the chef turned to him. “She has already fixed the blender and the can opener. A true marvel of engineering.”
“Well, she builds rockets,” Oliver informed him, “so I don’t think the can opener stood a chance.”
And then at the error in Oliver’s judgment that had been meant to communicate that he knew Molly better than the chef and didn’t need the man to educate him on what a genius she was, Liam fell deeper into his effusive compliments before asking, “You build rockets?!”
“Build is a strong word,” Molly laughed, “but I’m on the team that creates the plans for them, yes.”
“Darling,” Liam said, laying a hand on her arm that Oliver wanted to throw off and use to flip him over with. “What are you doing fixing ovens on a boat? You are not meant for such work.”
Oliver wanted to roll his eyes. Maybe he would have been fine cooking for himself for the rest of this trip if he knew he was going to be subjected to his guy mooning over Molly the entire time.
“I’m on a sabbatical from work,” Molly told him. “I’m just helping Oliver out and taking an extended vacation.”
Liam’s eyebrows rose. “You two are friends?”
Oliver took that moment to pull Molly into his side. “More than friends.”
“But you are working on the boat, too?”
“I’m also working on the boat as captain,” Oliver reminded him, his irritation growing.
“Working for my stay was really the only way I would agree to come aboard for such a long time,” Molly explained. “I couldn’t accept a trip of that magnitude from Oliver without giving him something in return.”
Liam seemed to consider this.
“But the salient point here,” Oliver clarified, “is that we are a couple, I own the boat, and Molly is a guest so she’ll be treated as such.”
She sent him a bland look, but as Liam looked between them both and understanding dawned, Oliver didn’t much care what the consequences were, but if he found Liam flirting with her again now that he knew Molly was with him, Oliver wouldn’t think twice about throwing him overboard.
“So I do not call you if I have an electrical problem?” Liam asked, worried now that he’d made a mistake.
Molly reached out to put a hand on his arm but Oliver’s body stiffened, so she drew back at the last moment, frowning deeply at him. And yes, that had probably been too much, but in his defense, he hadn’t even known he was doing it. It had been a purely visceral and involuntary animalistic reaction that he had no control over.
“Of course you call me,” Molly assured him, a bright smile on her face. “Oliver just meant to say that you’ll always be cooking for two. It’s just that because he’s an ass those weren’t the words he used.”
Oliver snorted and took her hands in his. “I apologize, Liam, if I was rude,” Oliver told him, not in the habit of being surly to anyone let alone the person who was responsible for feeding him and could therefore choose to poison him at any moment. “Molly’s very special to me and I didn’t want there to be any confusion over the fact that she should be treated as a queen always.”
Liam nodded his head. “I understand this, yes, but my food is my art, I would never not give anyone my best, sir.”
Molly gave Oliver a smug smile, which he loved. “Excellent,” Oliver said. “And also, if she tells you she can cook and use the oven on her own, please don’t listen to her. She is officially banned from using the kitchen as the last time she did, she set it on fire.”
Liam looked scandalized then, clutching the wooden spoon to his chest in horror. “Oh, no, no fires in my kitchen.”
Molly spent a minute talking Liam off the ledge before they went over the menu. Eventually, Oliver and Molly left the galley for the sky lounge, where they sipped mimosas and waited for Liam to bring their breakfast.
“We’re all set to sail today,” she told him, her gaze on the clear, cloudless horizon. “Liam said the latest provisions are aboard, I spoke to the bosun and everything is locked down, the chief steward has everything she n
eeds. Basically, we’re ready when you are, Captain.”
He enjoyed the little jolt of heat that title sent to his dick when it was on her lips. “We’re going to have fun today.”
“I know,” Molly agreed, smiling as Liam came out with the omelets and fruit plate. They thanked him, and she continued. “I like watching you in command of this boat.”
“You like watching me operate heavy machinery?” he said, half-lecherously, but mostly just kidding.
She shook her head, not about to go forward with the lewd joke and instead digging into her meal.
“Molly,” he said, his tone going serious. “I do want to check in after yesterday and make sure we’re good?”
“Oh, you mean after you tied me up to your bed and ravished me? Yeah, Oliver, I think I’m good with it.”
“I just wanted to make sure because I’d like to do it again.”
She laughed. “Well, I think we agreed that the next person in charge is going to be me.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief and heat and he couldn’t wait to put himself in her hands. It would be the sweetest kind of torture.
“If you think you can handle me,” he warned. “I don’t go down easily.”
“That’s actually not my experience with you. You seem to go down more easily than most.”
“If you’re alluding to other guys you’ve been with right now that didn’t eat that delicious pussy then I’m pissed off doubly, for you even mentioning it and that you accepted that kind of bullshit behavior for so long.”
“Because I’m a queen?” Molly asked, smiling but also searching for something, as if she didn’t quite believe that was how he thought of her.
“Yes, because you’re my queen,” he told her, dragging her into his lap and planting a kiss on her lush pink lips, tasting tangy sweet orange juice and champagne.
Her arms came around his neck and he wanted to fuck her right in this chair in broad daylight with Liam on his way up from the galley with more sausage, but he resisted. Maybe they’d do that later—he’d spread her out on the dining table after dinner like his own personal feast.
They ended the kiss, pressing short pecks as they drew back from each other reluctantly. Another stoke and the fire would be well on its way to raging out of control. They both knew there was work to be done today if they were going to make it to Nassau by lunch, which would give them the better part of the day to screw their brains out all over the rest of the yacht, which had basically been his running fantasy since he’d bought it.
Molly met his eyes, her brows drawn in concern, and he had an inkling he wasn’t going to like her next words.
“Are we going to talk seriously about your parents?” she asked, her voice hesitant. And he knew why, too, because he’d been avoiding it for so long.
“I’m not going back to the firm, Molly, and I’m not marrying who they want. I don’t know what else there is to say.”
“So you’re just going to cut them out of your life forever?”
He sighed, his shoulders tensing. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes, deep brown pools of worry, shifted away from his as she bit her lip. “Is not speaking to your family really sustainable, Oliver?”
“I don’t really care, Molly. This is my life,” he told her, the idea of not seeing his family gnawing at him. But it wasn’t that he couldn’t see his family anymore; he could. He was sure they’d be perfectly civilized, but the idea that what he did would affect how they felt about him gave him the strength to go on. The last weeks with Molly had shown him what it felt like for someone to just like him and made him realize just how nice it was to have that. So if being with her meant that his family ostracized him, so be it. He wasn’t the sort of person to ever settle for second best, and that meant in love as well. “They’re not kicking me out of the family,” he clarified.
“They’ve threatened to take your trust and kick you off the company’s board, Oliver,” Molly reminded him. “That seems like a pretty big rift to overcome.”
He knew how messed up this shit sounded to a person with a normal, loving family, that the money was just business and was separate from how his family functioned in private, but it wasn’t going to fly with her. Hell, it was starting not to with him, but maybe the time for protecting her was over and he needed to be completely honest so she knew just what they might be up against if she decided to be in a serious relationship with him. But showing her his real life was running the risk that she wouldn’t want to be a part of it, which was why he’d been trying like hell to keep it from her.
“The business is just the business,” he told her, hoping this would explain it a little without making him sound like a totally out-of-touch nutbag. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of it.”
Molly looked skeptical. “So you’re not hurt that they want to take your money?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d probably try to do the same thing.”
“What?” she asked, brow furrowing, not understanding at all.
“It just means that money is a game. It’s not a thing I even really think about anymore, to be honest,” he said, biting back a sigh. He needed to tread carefully here but also he knew he shouldn’t hide this part of his life from her anymore. “When you have so much of it, it kind of becomes a game.”
She stared at him, her expression blank as she waited for him to continue. As if that would help.
“I love my family and they love me,” he assured. “But the money stuff, it’s how we connect and bond, how we fight, how we one-up each other.”
“So, like, instead of playing Monopoly the board game, you play it in real life?”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, except there are a lot fewer rules with us.”
Her eyes widened then. “And you like doing that stuff? Have you ever stolen money from your family?”
“Not stolen, but I’ve undercut them when they’ve tried to acquire a business, snagged people they wanted to hire, bought a competing business in the same market to see who makes more of a profit. It’s just how we work. My parents are using the firm stuff as leverage because they think I’m still playing the game. But I’m not.”
Molly met his eyes, considering. “But those games,” she said, “that are so meaningless to you, have real consequences on the people employed in those businesses.”
“To a certain degree,” he allowed. “But not really. If the company is being run correctly, generally management remains the same.”
Molly took a sip of her drink and shook her head. “I guess I don’t know much about your actual life, Oliver.”
“It’s not my life anymore,” he reminded gently, his voice low, wanting—needing—her to truly understand.
“It sounds like it is the same, only you’re refusing to run the firm your family owns.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s different. I can buy and sell stuff all day, but this is my opportunity to build something, Molly. That’s the difference. I want to actually do something, not just move my money around on an invisible chessboard.”
“And you need me for that?” she asked, bringing up his offer for the first time on her own.
He took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “I want you in my life in all ways, Molly. I want you to help me build this company, I want you to build yachts, I want to build a life together. So, yes, I kind of need you for the last one for sure, but the other ones are optional.”
Molly’s breathing deepened and he could tell that he’d probably overshot it, but fuck it if it was too soon. The only thing he could do was try to make her love him for him and the rest of it, like his parents, they could figure out together.
“I haven’t changed my mind, Oliver,” Molly eventually said, carefully setting her glass back down on the table. “I don’t want to leave my job.”
“I know,” he said.
“But I’m also still waiting for you to tell me how much money would possibly tempt you away from it.”
“Money doesn’t matter to me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Everyone has a price, Molly. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but if I offered you a multimillion-dollar yearly contract right now with a half million signing bonus, your head wouldn’t be the least bit turned?”
Her eyes did widen, which pleased him, but then they shuttered. “Even if I wanted to take the job, which I don’t, I couldn’t take money or be employed by you if we were in a relationship.”
“It’s not as if you’re going to see me in the office every day. I doubt I’ll even go in at all except to see the actual yachts when they’re finished being produced. There will be a chief operating officer who is actually in charge of daily operations so it’s not as if you’d be reporting to me.”
At her doubtful look, he took another breath and continued. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, but I know that you’re brilliant and I don’t love the idea of you returning to the same city as that asshat ex-fiancé, and there’s no one I trust more to create a new generation of boats.”
Liam came out again, setting a tray of more toast, sausage and mimosas down on the table in front of them. “The oranges here cannot be beat, correct?”
“Should not the chief steward be bringing us our drinks?” Oliver enquired, jokingly, but reminding flirty-face Liam that Oliver was onto him and he was the only man Molly was interested in on this boat.
“Ah,” Liam said and clapped his hands together. “But I made the bread myself so I wanted to make sure you all liked it.”
Molly immediately took a large bite with butter on it and gave him a big smile. “This is outrageously good, Liam!”
Liam beamed and Oliver almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself. And because he wasn’t a total asshole, he took a bite of the bread himself and had to admit, only to himself, that it was delicious.
“It is my pleasure to serve you, my dear,” Liam told her before leaving the deck with a huge smile on his face. “Do not hesitate to tell me whatever you would like me to make and I will deliver your deepest desires.”
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