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“Yes, you are. I’ve seen you in action. You start off conservative and a little shy then you get a feel for things and you really go for it.”
I gulp. “Are you talking dirty here?”
“Absolutely.”
With a deep inhale and a blush on my cheeks, which has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with Neal, I point the craft towards the ship and ease the throttle forward. It responds like a thoroughbred, and we’re cruising. I check all directions but don’t see any other vessels. I bite my lip and press the throttle a little more. We plow on, faster, almost flying on the surface.
Neal laughs. “That’s my girl. You need these challenges.”
When I glance at him for just a second, he’s watching me with bedroom eyes, his lips set in that sensual way. I’m hoping we head back to shore soon so we can get a bit closer to a bed.
In minutes, we’re approaching the craft, which looked small at first, and is now proving to be a large yacht. It’s all sleek lines, with dark windows and two levels.
“Circle the yacht.” Neal makes a clockwise motion. “Then slow the launch at the stern—that’s the back.”
“Why?” I frown, then realize whose boat it must be. I slowly steer a wide circle around it, and move in close to the back, I see the name readsMorning Joy. I slide the control into neutral and turn towards Neal. “Who owns this ugly old tub, then?”
He chuckles and stands, helping me into the passenger seat as he takes the captain’s chair. “I wonder.” He guides it into a boat-shaped opening at the back of the yacht, where two people in white shirts, shorts, and matching shoes help secure the boat into its slip.
Neal grabs my holdall, and I hold my purse as he helps me from the boat to the yacht. “Thanks, gentlemen. A slow cruise up the river and back to port when you are ready, please.”
“Aye, sir,” they say in unison, and Neal looks at me.
I raise my brows. “Is there any mode oftransport you don’t own?”
“There’s plenty, but I’m working on it.”
He nods at the stairs ahead. “Would you like a tour?”
“Of course!” Maybe I should say I’ve never been on a yacht like this, and it’s a rare treat, but I kinda assume he knows that.
With a glass of champagne placed in our hands by a sweet mini-skirted steward, we set off.
We take fifteen minutes to tour the yacht. Starting at the top, he explains in land lover’s terms what all the fancy gizmos area.
Below decks, we take a peek in the kitchen, the galley, where we are told by a serious chef that supper will be an hour and thirty. Neal takes my arm and leads me towards the front of the ship.
“We’re now at the bow.” Neal looks into my eyes. “And I think you’ll like this room best. I saved it for last.” He opens the door to a master bedroom larger than my whole apartment.
I clasp my chest. “My god, this is beautiful.” Facing me is a huge bed with blue and white bedding and pillows, a couch big enough for four people, built-in wood cabinets along the walls, and a good size en-suite bathroom to the side. Full length windows allow a sea view to both sides.
“Gosh.” Here I go again with the inane expressions. I set down my half glass of champagne on the dresser, feeling a bit light headed with alcohol and the whole luxury yacht experience. Neal places his drink next to mine.
Neal leans back against the dresser. “We have some time before dinner.”
I look up at him. His face is serious, hungry, like a wolf waiting for the chance to devour a tasty morsel.
A rush of desire heats my blood. This is my chance to show him how much I want him. Backing up to the foot of the bed, I stare at him. “Do you have anything particular in mind?” I run my tongue along my lower lip and reach for the button on my jeans shorts, glad I wore my sexy white thong and matching bra. I want to show them off.
His body shudders for a second, and his gaze drops to my hands. “Undo the button—unzip them.”
A fresh wave of need rushes through me. I do as he commands, watching his chest rise and fall faster with each breath. My gaze drops to his shorts, where his hardness is very obvious, pressing against the fly. “What next?” I drag my gaze from his groin to his eyes.
“Take them off. Slowly.”
I flatten my hands on my belly and slide my fingers inside the denim. Confidence blooms in my chest. I turn my back to him, bend forward and put one hand on the bed, then look back at him. I ease my shorts over my ass and let them drop to the floor.
“Hell!” Neal’s arms drop to his sides, his hands fisted. He looks into my eyes. “You’re so sexy. And all mine.”
