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Nate said, “You’re so damn tight and wet. I really . . . Christ . . . I can’t . . . damn it.”
“Come inside her,” Tristan urged. “Do it.”
She squeezed Nate’s cock, milking it, while also tightening around Tristan’s.
“Oh, fuck, Liv,” Tristan mumbled. “Jesus.”
Liv felt them both, so thick and throbbing. Then their bodies convulsed, almost in unison. And they let go.
Liv screamed as Nate’s hot seed flooded her pussy. Both men pushed in farther, prolonging their orgasms—and hers.
Until Liv collapsed on top of Nate. Exhausted, but so very sated . . .
* * *
Nate wrapped a towel low around his hips and stepped out onto the deck. He admired the view while thinking about how things were falling so smoothly into place for him and Tristan. The business connections they’d begun making before they’d even returned to Bayfront were helping to successfully position them for this move, and their relationship with Liv was certainly heating up.
His thoughts stayed on her as she joined him at the railing, after blow-drying her hair following their tidying up. She wore his shirt—he caught the hint of his cologne as her arms encircled his waist from behind him.
Liv’s soft lips and warm breath swept over his skin as she whispered against his neck, “I think you might have overdone it with the Ariana in terms of a guilty pleasure but I have to confess that mammoth shower is perfect for the three of us. I was getting some wicked ideas of how all those showerheads and jets might come in handy.”
“Then I’ll have to hang onto the ship a bit longer.”
“Were you considering selling? You said you’d only had her a few
months.”
“Bit of a conundrum,” Nate mumbled.
Liv had been right when she’d joked about the vessel being surreally ostentatious—in some respects that had actually been the point. In others . . . Well. He could have settled on a boat a third this size and still have had enough room for suites and offices for him, Tristan, and their parents when they visited. And maintained ample amenities.
Nate told her, “Tristan and I started making a fresh batch of rounds with in-person meetings just a while back, and the notion of sailing from coast to coast appealed to us both. We started in New York, cruised our way down the Keys and to the west . . . eventually rounded the Baja Peninsula and came up the Pacific to Bayfront. Not exactly the quickest mode of transportation for networking, I’ll admit, but we have a chartered helicopter company on retainer and we’ve been able to entertain more easily and stay longer whenever necessary at larger ports where we could have a greater outreach.”
“Beats the hell out of hotel life,” she mused.
“Very true. The Ariana offers much more personal accommodations for us—and our guests.”
“I bet you’ve impressed a lot of people along the way.”
Nate couldn’t dispute that. But a different thought preyed on his mind. While London had been an ideal choice for D/R Communications’ international headquarters, Nate and Tristan had harbored the dream and desire to return to California—with evidence of their success.
Nate wasn’t above noting that having the Ariana sail into the marina was a bit of a “screw you” to the nemeses of their past. Except . . . now that he and Tristan were here, finding common ground with the crowd they’d never imagined fitting in with, and Liv was so elated to see them and obviously enjoying being with them, different thoughts churned in his head as to why he’d purchased this particular ship. Why he’d engaged in playing the my dick is bigger than your dick game when it came to the bragging rights associated with the megayacht—as Liv had unwittingly pointed out that day at the club.
In truth, the ship meant more to him than proving he’d “made it.” Rather, the Ariana represented Nate’s embrace of a sense of unconventionality that had forever been innate to him, but which had been stifled by the push-and-pull of wanting to be like the other kids, or other college students, or other businessmen . . . while knowing deep down that he’d always be a square peg in a world that was round.
Case in point: “You know, after Tristan and I cashed in on the gaming software, we could have easily bought an estate in the hills of Bayfront and been just two more wealthy denizens with mansions and yacht club memberships and personal chauffeurs.”
“I suppose so,” Liv ventured. “Although I’ve never once heard either of you say that was what you wished for or aspired to acquire.”
He loved that Liv paid such close attention to her friends’ goals, to the things that mattered most to them. She’d always been engrossed in what fulfilled others as much as what fed her own soul.
Nate told her, “You’re right, in that the mansion lifestyle held little to no appeal for us. However, living aboard the Ariana these past few months has offered a sense of freedom we’d never really experienced before. I realize we were singularly focused at the academy. We were into the sciences and our math and chess clubs. Astronomy at the observatory. As a stereotype, we fit a mold. But as individuals . . . there seemed to be something waiting for us beyond our grasp. A concept that taunted us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you do.” Nate’s hands gently pried hers apart at his waist and he turned to face her. He whisked a hand through her strands of her hair that blew in the light breeze and said, “You felt it, too, from the time you were a little girl. A peculiar calling. The need to have roots or a home base, but the ability to explore at will. To change your scenery from one evening to the next if you so chose. To meet new people and have new, exciting experiences around every corner. You’re not meant to be caged. You have long, strong wings that carry you to different destinations, but they also always return you back home to Bayfront.”
She stared up at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
