Domesticated Page 6

  I looked around again for whatever reason. I knew I was alone, the boat was moving. I still checked before posing for a few more shots. My legs spread and my fingers held my lips open with the material moved to the side. That was a very nice picture. The one with my middle finger inside the warm, wet well was even nicer, erotic even. Damn. I needed to come.

  Being alone on top of the world, I considered it safe to take care of the needed relief. My psychosexual thoughts took over again. I was still on the yacht, just not alone. My fingers, sliding wet arousal between my folds weren’t my fingers at all. I didn’t feel my fingers. I felt long strides of a very happy tongue. Whose tongue, I didn’t know, nor did I care.

  The unbearable way the organ felt while I envisioned the sucks, the slurps, and the lapping were out of my control. I bore no responsibility, I had zero agency, I was one giant plexus, responding with moans, writhes, and then—”

  “Lunch is served,” I heard the driver of my yacht from behind me. FUCK!

  “Who’s driving us?” I yelled, trying to hide what I was doing.

  He was behind me. Maybe he hadn’t seen. Looking at his flushed face, I was sure he witnessed it all. My first instinct was to fire him on the spot for even coming up there. My second instinct was absolute mortification. My third instinct was my true self. I was aroused at the thought of someone watching me.

  “It’s on autopilot. This is a pretty sophisticated machine. I could set the GPS to take us anywhere we wanted to go, and never touch a control,” he explained the refined navigation system. He walked even closer. What the hell? The throbbing between my legs was autonomously chaotic. I never moved my right cocked leg. I sickeningly hoped the material between my legs exhibited the wet discoloration.

  “We are not going anywhere. Why are you even up here?”

  “Look, lady, you don’t have to be so uptight with me. We’re in the middle of the ocean, just you and me. Why would you want to be so nasty? We’re going to be spending a lot of time together if you plan on taking this thing out. May as well make the best of it, huh? Let’s start over. I’m Sam.” He smiled, offering his hand.

  I looked up to his hand querulously. Like I was really going to take his hand. Really? Unbelievable. I didn’t take it the first time, and I sure as hell wasn’t taking it now, although the thought of him touching my saturated fingers was appealing. “Look, Sam,” I retorted with a mocking tone laced with my superfluous attitude. “Your job is to navigate the yacht, not hang out like we’re buds. I’ll be down shortly,” I intrepidly concluded, ordering him away.

  “Great. I should have known better. That’s why Warren was so giving.”

  “Who?” I asked, moving my legs to the side. Jesus, I could come just by the pressure of the seat beneath my ass. My posture straightened on its own, trying to make the needed contact to my crazy clitoris.

  “Warren. He escorted you the last time you were here. I was so excited about this amazing yacht, I begged him to let me have it. I know why he was so eager to give it up now. You people are all the same.”

  “And you people should do what you’re paid to do. I’m not paying you to be my friend. I don’t want to associate with you. You can take us back and get off if you would like. I’m sure I can replace you rather quickly.”

  “I’m sure you can,” he smirked. “If you want me to stay behind the controls, maybe you should have someone else prepare your food. Better yet, maybe you can warm up your high-class lunch yourself next time.”

  My lips parted in shock. The nerve of this guy. He walked away, uncaring of my pretentious expression.

  My fingers moved quickly back to my wetness and I came in about three seconds. The previous tongue down there never returned to my thoughts. It was Sam. Sam replaced my earlier fantasy, watching on his knees in front of me. Kneeling on his knees, I ordered him to eat me. There was no way I would make it through lunch without discharging myself. I didn’t even try.

  Garrison would have a few dozen heart attacks if he saw me like this. I never covered myself up. Not one inch of me. I descended the upper deck in my pussy soaked bikini and breasts baring top. I walked right to the door where Sam was sitting, feet propped on the control deck.

  “I would like my food out on the bow.”

  “Okay…” he replied with raised eyebrows, looking up from his magazine.

  “Carry it there,” I retaliated with the same knowing expression.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Do I look like I am joking?”

  He snorted. Coming to his feet, he brushed past me, glared down at me, and did as he was ordered. Oh, how I missed having someone to instruct.

  “Your dinner is served your Almighty Highness,” Sam smartly spoke, retrieving the silver covered platter and walking past me.

  Following him, I jumped, startled when he dropped the tray loudly to the table. He was so fired. I wouldn’t be seeing him again after this day. Asshole. Dismissing him with my eyes, I opened the lid. Idiot. My shrimp was shifted into the peas and noodles, and now my Kaiser roll was soggy, too. I wasn’t paying him. He didn’t deserve to be paid.

  My restrained mood soon returned. It was impossible to feel irritable with the ocean breeze in my face. I always loved the ocean. Ever since I was a little girl, I remembered loving the ocean. Of course, the very first memory is one with Adriana. I remember being so excited that Christmas morning. Paris wasn’t born yet and Katie was maybe two, I guess that would have made me around six.

  My father let me unwrap the small package. I gloated, trying not to exult it to Adriana, although I could see the glare from my peripheral vision. The brochure was of a beautiful yacht, even bigger than this one. Katie and I had our own shared room and all. We were going to Miami to spend the entire week abroad. I was looking forward to my father being close to me. The witch couldn’t be mean to me around him. She would put on her loving façade and make a show of our happy relationship.

  It didn’t really pan out the way my six-year-old mind planned, though. I’ve learned not to trust what I think will happen in life. It’ll be the opposite anyway. Karma didn’t work with me. I had to create my own Karmatic results if I wanted them.

  I can remember exactly what I was wearing that day. Adriana took me shopping for our trip. It was freezing in Connecticut and I was tired of being pulled in and out of stores for clothes I didn’t get a choice in wearing. Like the red and white striped shirt with red shorts. That’s what I was wearing the day we climbed aboard the prodigious ship. My six-year-old excitement soared, even if I was told to wear the red boy shorts. I didn’t care. The ocean was majestic to me. I was fascinated by its magnitude.

  That may have been the longest five days of my life. I wasn’t expecting to get sea sick. Katie and I both were green from motion sickness. The only difference is, Katie got the medicine, I wasn’t allowed. Most of my time was spent in my bunk, curled in a little ball and trying to keep from throwing up again. It only made things worse when I had to clean it up. Drown the thought at sea to make it easy on me with a trashcan. Watching me clean it up was more fun.

  I didn’t really get to enjoy the trip like I had hoped. I did see a dolphin, and a fin I was sure was a shark, through my little round window. I’m sure I lost five pounds that week. Stale saltine crackers seemed to be the only thing my sea stomach could handle. One good thing about it was I was alone most of the time. I didn’t have to deal with Adriana until she brought sleepy Katie in to sleep in her custom designed crib. She should have been out of the crib anyway by two, but the new baby coming in seven months explained that.

  The very last day on the yacht, my belly decided it would tolerate the waves. I woke feeling better than I had since my feet hit the wooden deck. I was famished and managed to keep down oatmeal and toast. My father was locked away inside with the air conditioning, working. I would bet my pinky finger he was there the entire week. I spent the entire day on the bow, pretending to be a pirate looking for sunken treasure.

  It was
n’t until I went to bed that night that I received my first spanking that week. I wasn’t being a lady when we ate supper. I was begging for attention from my father when I asked a million questions about the ocean, what lay beneath it, and if he thought there really could be buried treasure. I was a normal, excited six-year-old little girl that night, and my daddy happily told me about the treasure of Lima. It was buried by pirates on Cocos Island, somewhere in the Pacific.

  “Can we take our boat there?” I asked.

  “Maybe we already did, while you were sleeping your trip away,” Adriana meddled her nose in the conversation, using her fake ass tone. I really couldn’t help it. I wanted to make her look stupid. She was stupid.

  “Doubtful,” I said, turning my attention back to my father. “Can we, Dad?”

  “I don’t know. I think maybe we did pass a little island. I bet that was Cocos Island,” The dumb bitch continued, not about to let my father have a conversation with me.

  “What ocean is this?” I asked, wishing I could take it back. She didn’t know. Adriana was the exception to the rule. My father never met her at Yale, she didn’t come from good stock, and she wasn’t the same class as we were. She was the help. She had to try harder to fit the role.

  “Adriana knows we’re in the Atlantic. That’s a silly question. Eat your pasta,” My father ordered. The fire coming from Adriana’s eyes warned me of what to expect. I, of course, was right.

  She was sitting on my bed when I came in from my one and only shower the whole trip. I’m not sure where Katie was, probably with one of the maids. Adriana pushed herself back and raised her arms with a glare.

  “What?” I feigned ignorance.

  “You think you’re smart? You like making me look like an idiot in front of your father? Lay across my lap, Sewer Rat. I’m going to show you who is in control here. I promise. It’s not you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I walked toward the inevitable and lay across her lap, taking the slaps from her hand on my bare ass like a trooper. I didn’t cry, though. I used the blows to count how many times my father and I had to shovel sand to get to the treasure. Pretending I was somewhere else always helped with the spankings.

  I jumped when Sam poured more wine into my glass, startling me from my sore bottom.

  “Sorry, just saw your glass was empty. Wouldn’t want the princess to have to ask for anything.”

  “Do you not know who I am?”

  “Nope, don’t care. All I know is you’re under the assumption that you’re better than me. Lady, money doesn’t do that, not in my world. Why don’t you tell me? Who are you?” Sam asked, probing a foot to the bar of the table and resting an elbow while his condescending eyes waited for my response.

  Well shit. “I am paying your salary today. I’m sure it’s a lot. I’m sure your boss wouldn’t approve of the way you’ve treated me.”

  “Treated you? Are you serious? I’ve tried to be nothing but nice to you. You have a rod stuck so far up your cute little ass, it’s not even funny.”

  Cute? That’s the word I heard. He thought I had a cute little ass? “I do not.”

  “You do, and it’s not necessary. I’m not your enemy. I’m just here because I needed something to do this summer, I love the ocean, and I love these machines and the technology behind them. Can’t we just get along? I was really looking forward to being assigned to one boat for the summer. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll even wash your feet for you if you’re that deserving. Sorry, scratch that last part.” He smiled a boyish grin, trying to be nice.

  I relaxed my stiff shoulders and dropped my eyes to his crotch. “Fine, whatever. You’re just the help anyway. I suppose it doesn’t matter who drives my boat.”

  Both his hands clapped together and he boasted. “Perfect. To happy sailing,” he said, tipping my bottle of Challis-North toward me and then to his lips.

  “Do you have any idea how much that bottle of wine cost?”

  “Nope, don’t care, either. Let’s make a deal. I won’t brag about how much money I don’t have if you don’t brag about how much you do have, deal?”

  “You’re quite the dick. You know?”

  Sam laughed, which in turn, filled my lungs with laughter. As hard as I fought it, his lively attitude was contagious.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way. I say it in the nicest way possible. You’re a bitch, so I guess that makes us even.”

  My normal, bona fide self would have fired him again for calling me a bitch, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. I was sort of into the company. He was fun, and he wasn’t going to stop being that way because I insisted.

  “Just stay out of my way,” I ordered, batting my eyelashes over the brim of my glass.

  “No. I can’t do that. We’re at sea. I don’t want to stay locked away inside, navigating a yacht that can navigate itself. What if miss seeing a dolphin, or better yet, a pirate ship?”

  I rolled my eyes and handed him my half empty plate. He took it, picked up a piece of shrimp, and popped it in his mouth. I shook my head and walked away, swaying my hips in animation just for him. I could feel my cheeks peeking from my bottoms and hoped he noticed, too.

  “I would like more wine when you’re done eating my food,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. He was looking. His eyes were directly on my ass. No doubt about it.

  I wasn’t really planning on listening to Sam when he suggested I come to the yacht at five thirty AM the next day. I didn’t need to see the sun rise. I told him I wasn’t going to be there and he informed that he would be if I changed my mind.

  I only did it because I was up. I was awoken by a nightmare from hell. Only it wasn’t a nightmare. It really happened. I just chose not to think about, trying to forget it. I didn’t even take care of myself before leaving. I showered and walked out to the dark beach, along the shore in a somber mood. I felt sad and alone, trailing my feet along the lapping waves that were not quite reaching them.

  I was planning on just boarding and sitting on the bow until Sam arrived. He was already there, sitting on my bow. What the hell? Who the hell did this guy think he was?

  “Ah, knew you’d come. Just made coffee. How do you take it?” This guy was on something. Nobody was this cheerful at five in the morning.

  “Um, just a splash of cream. What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for the sun…and you.” He smiled. Damn. I should have taken care of myself like I always did. It was coming on strong already. I carefully watched Sam fill my cup, studying his face. He didn’t look anything at all like Garrison. Sam was sort of perfect, but all guys like him looked that way. Brains, good blood, and looks didn’t really coincide. Take Garrison. I didn’t know a smarter man than him. I don’t presume he got a whole lot of second glances, though.

  Garrison was tall and gangly-like. He had a long nose with a bump right in the middle. His hair was always slicked to the side with a sharp line showing his scalp. The black thick frames on his glasses drove me nuts. They were always at the end of his nose. I constantly wanted to push them up.

  Sam was sporting a shadow of a beard and his hair wasn’t kept at all. It actually looked like he’d just crawled out of bed. He wore khaki shorts with big pockets and an orange shirt. I was sure Garrison had never worn a pair of flip-flops like that, not even on the yacht. If he did come out here, it was one day, and like my father, he stayed in the air conditioning and worked.

  I sipped my coffee and smiled.

  “What?” Sam questioned my sudden happiness.

  “Mi Esperanza Coffee.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t say…huh. It makes you sound ignorant.”

  “No, it’s laid back way to ask what the hell did you just say?”

  I couldn’t help it. He was sort of infectious. I giggled. “It’s my favorite coffee. I would know it anywhere. My assistant, Olivia, must have had it delivered here.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Mi Esperanza Coffee. You can only get it in Honduras.
”

  “Ah, coffee for the rich.”

  “What are you doing here already?”

  “I didn’t leave. I stayed.”

  “On the boat?”

  “Yeah, I mean I left for a while. Had a few beers on The Strip and a steak. What did you have?”

  “Really? We’re going to do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Small talk about trivial nothings. You don’t care about what I ate for supper last night any more than I care about your beer and steak.” My head hurt already. I couldn’t do this. Sam needed to go back to being the navigator.

  “You are the most uptight bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Can we just have a normal conversation? Tell me about you. What do you do?”

  “What do I do when?”

  “Anytime. You obviously make very good money.”

  “What time is the sun coming?”

  “Six fourteen. So it’s your husband’s money?”

  “My husband paid for this yacht. I don’t need his money. I have plenty from my father.”

  “Oh, I see. A trust fund baby.”

  “What do you do?” I countered, betting he was nothing more than a bum, jumping from job to job. Why else would he do this?

  “I teach second graders how to add and subtract.”

  “You’re a teacher?” That surprised me. I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Yes, back home. I’m here for the summer working for my Uncle Fat.”

  “Uncle Fat?” I repeated the funny name.

  “It’s really Matt, but everyone calls him Fat Matt. I call him Uncle Fat. He owns the charter service you hired me from,” Sam explained unnecessary information. I didn’t care about Fat Matt. He was a school teacher?

  “You don’t look like a teacher,” I assured him.

  “Really? What do I look like?”

  I snorted with a laugh.

  “Watch it little girl. I’m bigger than you and we’re right close to hungry sharks,” he teased, looking out to the ocean. “What do I look like?”

  “Oh, a DJ, maybe,” I suggested, letting my eyes skim his body again. I was going to have to go to the bathroom soon.