NautiCal (Forever Wilde 8)

Red over green, sailing machine…

“Maybe we should grab you some ice water,” Worth said, heading toward the galley. I noticed he’d changed into his own swim trunks which were snug on his very nice ass.

Green over white, trawling tonight…

It wasn’t like I was hard up. I’d had sex with Prescott yesterday, for Pete’s sake. But there was something about this man, this gruff and grumbly stiff suit of a guy, that made me wonder what it would feel like to be naked against him. Was he as controlled in bed as he was around other people? Was he dominant with his partners? Did he command obedience the way he would with a client or employee? Or did he change into a desperate, needy sub who begged to be taken care of?

Worth’s eyes narrowed at me as he handed me the bottle of water. “Why so quiet?”

White over white, short tug in sight…

I busied myself with the water, taking huge gulps and sputtering a little when the word tug echoed in my brain. Worth finally sighed and reached for my hand, pulling me out to the deck and up to the bow. A giant sun bed dominated this part of the ship, and I gratefully climbed onto it and sprawled out like a starfish on my back. The sun blasted down on my skin, sapping any residual energy right out of me.

“This is heaven,” I said on a sigh. “Remind me to write your boyfriend a thank-you note.”

Worth settled next to me, only he sat primly with his back against the cushions and his long, elegant legs crossed at the ankle.

“What boyfriend? And why the thank-you note?”

“You have elegant legs,” I said. He needed to know.

“Thank you. But you didn’t answer my question.”

I waved my hand around at the ship. “This. Whoever gave you this—and let’s be honest, it had to be someone you were fucking—is god’s gift to mankind. They must love you enough to want you to spend some time relaxing in luxury. This is my dream. Being out on the water, soaking up the sun, not having to worry about real life or anything else…” I took a deep breath of the Caribbean air. “Heaven.”

Worth’s fingers found their way into my hair again, and I closed my eyes with a contented sigh. I wondered if he realized he was doing it. We were in a strange alternate reality where I couldn’t be sure what he did to further the ruse of us dating versus what he did out of any genuine motivation. Right now, I didn’t much care. I just wanted his hands on me any way I could get them.

“Ex-boyfriend. Yes. But I’m fairly certain he acquired the Worthington for his own enjoyment rather than mine.”

I tried not to think of him with a gorgeous, rich boyfriend. “Maybe he was trying to get you to stop working long enough to relax. Nat said you’re a workaholic. Maybe your ex was trying to tell you something.”

I stretched in the sun like a cat and heard a choking sound come from Worth. “Maybe you were right about that suit. Even I can’t keep my eyes off you, and I’m not interested.”

I opened one eye and glared at him with it. “Thanks for that. I can’t begin to tell you how good it makes me feel knowing you don’t find me attractive.”

At least he had the wherewithal to look contrite. “I do find you attractive.” His voice had deepened again in that way that endangered the elastic barriers of my swimsuit. “Of course I do.”

He cleared his throat and continued. “It’s just that… I don’t… I mean, I… Well, you see…”

I opened both eyes and sat up. Worth had only gotten this flustered one other time in front of me, and it was the only other time we’d discussed his dating history.

His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, and his face was angled away, gazing off the port side of the ship.

“I find you very attractive, Cal. But I won’t be seducing you this week. My quota of sleeping with and/or dating men in their twenties should have topped out ten years ago.”

He was such an ass. “You’re ageist. What’s wrong with men in their twenties?”

One eyebrow peaked over the top of his sunglasses frame. “You don’t know what you want.”

I wanted to tell him I knew for damned sure what I didn’t want, which was a stodgy old workaholic stick-in-the-mud, but before I could say any of that, I heard Lucas and Prescott coming toward us. I turned over and crawled toward Worth on all fours, letting Julo’s rum punch lead the way. “Oh, believe me, Mr. Boring and Mature, I know exactly what I want.”

8

Worth

I was out of my depth.

I’d pulled Cal aside after realizing we’d never gotten on the same page about our story. As soon as Prescott started asking Cal questions about me, we’d be toast. But every time Cal and I were together, my brain seemed to short out before I had a chance to discuss our situation.