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Mom, her hand still on those invisible pearls, says, “God Bless America.”
Skin tightening, I watch the shirtless sailors tug on thick ropes and shout orders to each other. It’s a blur of sweat-slicked muscle and toned, tanned backs bent in the kind of manual labor you only see in really bad porn.
Not gonna lie, though, I’d watch the shit out of this X-rated video. I can’t stop staring.
The shirtless deckhands—that’s definitely new.
“It’s the heat,” a woman to my left explains. “By the end of the day, the guys soak through their uniforms, so some of them just take them off. New owner gave it the thumbs up a couple years back, so . . . here we are.”
“Here we are.” Goldie glances across the women gathering along the railing. “Is that why ninety percent of the people on this boat are female?”
“No,” another woman says. She’s peering over the side of the boat, slowly sliding the heart charm on her necklace back and forth over its gold chain. “Wives and kids come to the beach earlier than the husbands, usually during the week. The guys come on Fridays after work.”
“Ah.” Goldie nods. “Works out well for everyone then, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does,” the woman says, not looking away from the men hustling below us. “Welcome to paradise.”
Goldie leans in to whisper in my ear. “This is the horniest paradise I’ve ever been to. Maybe we can get you laid. Coop’s best man is single.” He and I have never met, but I hear he’s handsome. “If he doesn’t work out, bet one of those sea men—”
“Ha.” I roll my eyes, even as my heart goes haywire watching a particularly ripped sailor wrap a section of rope around an enormous metal cleat.
“C’mon, that’s funny. I know time heals all wounds. But quality dick gets the job done too.”
The sailor straightens, sweat coursing down his back and sides as he stands. He’s turned away from me, so I can’t see his face. But I can see him pluck the baseball hat off his head. In one smooth, obscenely sexy motion, he runs a hand through his dark blond hair, bicep bulging, and flips the hat onto his head, backward this time.
Something about the move makes my skin tingle. My heart drums inside my chest.
Sexual frustration.
That’s all this is. As unseemly as it may be—I’m in the middle of a horrific breakup, for God’s sake—I’m frankly horny as hell.
If I’m being honest, I’d been feeling, er, “lonely” even before Patrick broke up with me. I imagine like most people who are in years-long relationships and have demanding jobs, Patrick and I didn’t exactly have a scintillating sex life.
I feel a stab of shame. I should have tried harder. Maybe then—
“Almost time to go.” Mom slings her bag over her shoulder.
I watch the hot sailor point to something. A small gaggle of other shirtless sailors gather around him to listen. Above the sound of the engines and the people beside us, I can’t hear him. But I can tell he’s the boss. Captain. Dock . . . master?
Whoever he is, he makes things happen. The guys disperse. A second later, I jump at the loud bang that reverberates throughout the ferry.
I forgot how loud the pedestrian ramp is when it’s released onto the dock.
Goldie elbows me, holding out my bag. “You can have your sea men later.”
“That’s the hope,” a woman says before she descends the steps that lead to the exit.
I take my bag and follow Goldie, Mom close behind. My legs feel weirdly rubbery on the way down the narrow stairs, which I blame on the hangover from hell.
Sending up a silent prayer for this awful day to end already, I skirt along the edge of the ferry and head for the ramp.
My gaze rakes hungrily over the people lined up on the dock beside us. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for Captain Dockmaster Pornstar. Not like I’d ever approach him or anything, but . . . yeah, maybe Goldie’s right about releasing some of this pent-up energy while I’m here.
Why not? It will be mostly couples at the wedding on Saturday. I could couple off with someone new.
Someone temporary, and hopefully as good in bed as I’m fantasizing the captain would be.
“Shit, my mom is calling.” Goldie holds up her phone and winces. “Y’all go ahead, I’ll come find you.”
“Oh boy. Good luck.”
She lifts her phone to her ear and scurries off the boat, head down.
My own head throbs. Adjusting the bag on my shoulder, I step onto the short ramp.
At the same moment, the captain steps into my direct line of sight.
My gaze catches on his nipples first. Wow, I really do need to get laid. Taking in the dark whorls of hair that cover his thickly muscled chest, my body pulses.
