He smirks.
“The girls sleep with all of you?” I frown.
“They have fun and are well looked after.” He shrugs.
Fear fills me. “Were they taken? Is that the plan for me?” I whisper in a panic.
He frowns. “No.” He shakes his head. “They come and go as they like. We always have six, but the girls change at different ports.”
I sit back in my chair. I can’t get my head around this type of lifestyle.
“They all have their own shit they are trying to escape. This boat is their safe place. Most do a few trips a year. They rotate.”
The chef brings out two plates of a beef and vegetable stew with mashed potatoes and vegetables, leaving us to eat in silence, although my mind is in overdrive at the lives those women must live. We eat and then have dessert, and I have to admit the food is much better when hot.
A man comes and sits next to Mac and they begin to talk. My mind starts to buzz and I look around at the exits. How do I get to the control tower from here? My heartbeat rises as I imagine the scenario of getting caught. To the right is a bathroom and then the main door is where we came from. If I go back that way, it’s about one hundred meters down the hall, then up the stairs and then back another hundred meters to the other end. By my calculations we are closer to the control tower from here. Where is the door? I keep looking around casually. Bloody hell, it’s so confusing. I pull my chair out.
“Where are you going?” he snaps.
“I…” I hesitate. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
His knowing eyes hold mine.
Shit.
“I will show you where it is,” he says.
“Thank you,” I reply. Damn it.
He takes my hand and walks me over to the bathroom and then follows me in.
I frown. “It’s okay. I can go to the bathroom on my own.”
He has a quick look around before he walks back out. He was checking nobody was in here with me. I go to the bathroom and exit to find him sitting on a barstool at the bar. He holds out his hand for me to join him. Bloody hell, why is he watching me like a hawk? I slowly walk over. He positions me between his legs and he snakes his arms around my waist as he talks to another man I haven’t seen before.
I keep searching for an exit over his shoulder. “What do you want to drink?” he asks.
I glance up at all the alcohol.
“She will have a Scotch and Coke, please,” Mac says before waiting for my answer.
I frown. “No, I won’t. I don’t like Scotch,” I reply.
“But I do and I want to kiss you.”
My brain misfires. Huh?
The man he is talking to smirks. “Catch you later, man.” He gets up and leaves.
The barman leaves to make my drink.
He slips his hand underneath the band of my skirt and rubs down my stomach, his fingers skim my pubic hair before he kisses my ear from behind. “You feel good,” he whispers.
Crap, crap, crap.
I have to get out of here. I turn and lean into his ear and whisper. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I’m showing them you’re mine,” he whispers back into my ear as he bites it. “This is where you show them you like it.”