I wanted to bash my head against the porthole window. She had voiced the very same argument I had used to justify sleeping with her in the first place. "Tasha, you can't be serious," I said.
Her chin tipped up. "Why not? Men get to have sex like that all the time."
I held up my hands again. "I'm not being sexist. I just want you to think about it."
Tasha shook her head. "I don't want to think. That's the whole point. If I just let myself feel this, then maybe it will subside."
My head spun over the fact that she was feeling something between us too. "It won't work," I said. "I've already tried it."
That stopped her. "You slept with me to get me out of your system?" she asked.
I nodded. "It made things worse. It made me want you even more."
A darker shade of expression veiled Tasha's eyes. She was worried, but her body seemed to be reacting on its own. She took a step forward, hesitated, and then flew back into my arms. Her kiss burned away any resistance that either of us felt. I tried to hold on, reminding myself where we were and what the crowd was like just down the hall. But, it didn't matter. The band raced into another pulsing song, and I lost control.
Tasha and I fell together onto the queen-sized bed. Her dress slipped off to reveal a sheer slip that ignited my blood. As her hands peeled off my suit coat and plucked loose my shirt, I tossed her dress over the back of a chair and let my lips skim the silk of her slip, and then her skin.
"This is what you want?" I asked.
Tasha nodded, tugging me up to kiss her again. I told myself to be careful of her hair, to be gentle, but her hips rose to meet me and all thought erased. Fireworks exploded from the back deck of the yacht and glittered down past our window.
#
The only reason I knew years hadn't passed since I raised my head was the fact that the band was still thumping away up on the main deck. I laid on my back staring at the long stretch of Golden Gate Bridge drifting past the porthole window.
Tasha sat up and reached for her dress.
"Did it work?" I asked.
"Funny," she said, "I never took you for insecure."
I sat up. "I meant did you get me out of your system?"
She glanced over her shoulder and then tugged her dress back into place. "I better get back to the party."
I raced to get dressed before she got to the cabin door. "What's the plan? Want me to go first and then text you the 'all clear?'"
Tasha straightened her shoulders and looked me dead in the eye. "I'm not going to skulk out of here like I did something wrong. Women are just as capable of having flings as men."
I pressed a hand to the door. "So, I'm a fling now?"
"You're in my way, that's what you are right now." She tugged open the cabin door but took a second to peek into the hallway before she left.
I could have stayed in the cabin all night trying to sort out what had just happened, but I was worried about Tasha. Was she upset? Had her little experiment worked and she was completely over me? I counted to sixty at a furious pace and then slipped out the cabin door and back down the narrow hallway.
Tasha turned away from the bar, where she had wisely stopped to make it look like she'd been there all along, and then she plunged into the crowd. Most people were aimed at the main deck where the music was still blasting. I grabbed a drink and followed the flow. Tasha's head bobbed across the room from me and I did my best to look casual while I tracked her.
I had to change course when Patricia caught my eye. She frowned at me, and it took all my restraint to smile back at her. Sure, my reputation was my fault, but the bitterness I felt from her wasn't helping. I hadn't made her do anything she didn't want to do. And it wasn't like she'd ever called me again. I wondered if Tasha was going to be the same. I made my way out onto the deck where I could still see Tasha through the windows.
It was quieter on the back deck, and I could hear normal, non-scandalous conversations going on all around me. I took a deep breath and realized I felt great. Underneath all the complications, I was happy, and I hoped that Tasha felt it too.
Stan caught me as I released a satisfied sigh. "You seem relaxed. Glad the GroGreen project is finally done?" Stan asked.
"No," I said. "It was nice feeling like I was actually contributing. You know, instead of just being this playboy cartoon Hyperion trots out to appease the media."
"Oh, so it's all an act now, is it?" Stan asked. He planted his feet on the deck and looked me square in the eye. "You honestly think anyone is going to believe you've changed?"
I ground my teeth. Stan had a soft spot for Tasha. Beyond the rumors of a May-December romance, everyone at the office knew that Stan was grooming Tasha as his protege. Still, the way he looked at me made me think he knew more about Tasha's life than what happened in the office.