NautiCal (Forever Wilde 8)

We got our coffees and made our way back outside. I found a bench for us to sit on with a view of the water beyond a small park near the edge of the marina. After a few sips, Cal sighed. “That’s good. Thank you. And thanks for letting me use you back there.”

I leaned back and put my arm behind him on the bench. “Do a lot of charter clients come on to you like that?”

Cal took another sip of his drink. Maybe he was stalling. I wasn’t sure.

“I mean, define a lot. Most of the groups I take out are families or groups of couples. On those trips, I’ve had lots of people flirt before but only two guys actually try to do something with me. One was the husband of this super-snotty family from Alabama. He’d had too much to drink and asked me to suck him off late one night when everyone else was asleep below decks. He was so drunk, I just replied in French as if we’d been speaking in French all along. It confused him so much he finally gave up and went to bed.”

I laughed. “That was clever.”

“I can’t take the credit. My brother Otto told me that trick from the time he worked on a submarine. One of the sailors on his sub slipped into his native Portuguese when he was tired, and he’d get frustrated when the other guys didn’t understand him.”

We watched a toddler across the marina park squawk with delight at the sea birds swooping low. Cal continued his stories. “Then the other time it happened, the guy was just lonely and closeted. I felt bad for him. Plus he was hot as shit. So I fucked him.”

The words struck me in the gut, creating a strange mix of disapproval and desire. Was I the creepy guy in this week’s boating trip for him? Did Cal see me as the lonely client who needed a little attention?

“Not all lonely men want to be fucked,” I said peevishly, looking out across the water to avoid seeing his reaction.

7

Cal

I’d touched a nerve. Worth’s reaction might as well have been a warning flag. I tried to stay calm rather than feeling defensive about my own history. “No. They certainly don’t. But the man in question had been harboring a crush on his sister’s husband for fifteen years. And he was stuck on a small boat with the two of them for a week. We both needed a release, and we’d spent hours leading up to it in great conversation. I made a judgment call.”

Worth sniffed and took another sip of his coffee. “Mpfh.”

He was kind of cute when he slipped back into haughty mode. I laughed, enjoying sitting there in the sun with a nice cold drink and a sexy man’s arm around me. I couldn’t think of a place I’d rather be in this moment. “I’m not a saint, Jon. Besides, when I worked in the BVI, it wasn’t easy finding hookups. The locals are very conservative. I was young and horny. Still am.” I winked at him. “But the best trips are the ones with a boat full of gay guys. I’ve had several of those trips, and they are tons of fun. It’s basically an orgy at sea. I never drink while I’m working, but on those trips, I’ve definitely snuck in some sex play with clients. That’s the kind of trip Kincaid’s charter was, but I knew right off the bat those guys were way more likely to report me to my boss. If I’d been a woman sleeping with clients, my boss wouldn’t have had a problem with it, but a man sleeping with male clients? Meh.”

“Typical hypocrisy,” Worth muttered.

I nodded. “It’s been better in St. Mitz because there’s a gay club and another place that’s more of a beachside sports bar owned by a gay couple. You’d probably like Ron and Tim. They retired down here from Wall Street and opened up the place.”

We continued sipping our coffees while we watched the tourists and locals around us. I told Worth a little more about St. Mitz and how I’d enjoyed it more than Tortola even though it had paid less. He asked about how the charter trip jobs worked and where we sailed. By the time we’d finished our coffees, I’d completely relaxed from the run-in with Kincaid.

I began to stand up, planning on tossing my coffee cup in a nearby trash can, but Worth’s arm tightened around my shoulder, keeping me on the bench.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For sounding like I was judging you. I dated an employee once, so I’m not one to talk.”

I looked over at him. He appeared troubled. I was surprised he was lowering himself to admit any failings to the likes of me.