Page 30 of Filthy Rich

Idiot.

Rather than choke him out, which is what I really want to do, I glance at the ocean and focus on the waves, determined to salvage my mood and the day. The water is a calm and glorious blue, with white sparkles dotting their way to the horizon. There’s a nice breeze. It’s not too hot, although the blinding sun makes me glad for my sunglasses. Then I check out the pool deck down below, with its lounge chairs and market umbrellas. It’s not too crowded yet. Oh, and there’s a coffee bar and a juice bar. That’s cool.

So, this whole cruise thing is…pleasant. I guess. Not exactly the yacht life that I’m used to, but not bad.

As for what I plan to do all day at sea with nothing on my schedule, I have no earthly idea. I’m not cut out for free time. It stresses me out. The Wi-Fi on the ship is pretty good, so I’ll probably do what I always do—work. On the other hand, it might be worth checking out one of the shipboard activities. Just for kicks and giggles. I can just see myself in some pottery class with a bunch of blue-haired grandmas and grandpas.

Not.

Or I could take the captain up on his offer to tour the bridge. I’ve never been on the bridge of the ship the size before. It might be cool to?—

See if Tamsyn wants to go. She’d enjoy seeing a ship’s bridge.

I scowl because there she goes again, folks. Barging into every single thought in my fucking brain. I’m lucky she gave me ten seconds of peace.

Stifling a curse, I pump my arms harder, beginning to feel the strain in my lower back and thighs.

It’s just that…

The thing is…

I shake my head because it’s not like I’ve got a handle on the situation. All I know is that I’m no longer myself. I’ve got no control. Not since I laid eyes on her. My skin is too tight. My lungs only inflate halfway if that. Even my thoughts no longer belong to me because she waltzed in and took them over.

My mind’s eye only has room for her.

Her eyes. Her smile. Her sweet little pussy, so hot and slick for me.

I swallow hard, my mouth watering. See? There’s that zoo animal thing again. I’m like a tiger remembering the juicy steak he enjoyed for dinner last night.

I can’t figure out why I’m so out of sorts. I mean, I fucked her, right? I saw her, I wanted her, made a plan to get her, executed the plan and fucked her. That’s winning, in my book.

So why do I feel like a barnacle stuck to the bottom of the ship?

Well, I know why. It’s because I screwed the whole thing up last night once I finally got my hands on her.

And, by the way, why do I insert that finally, as though I’ve been lusting after her for ten years? What is that driving urgency about? I haven’t even known her for forty-eight hours yet. Why is my gut so knotted up? I got with her within twenty-four-ish hours of meeting her. That’s good, right?

Not good enough, evidently, because I was dying for her. I’m not exaggerating. It was all I could do not to toss her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry when we went to my cabin last night because she wasn’t moving fast enough for me.

I lost my head once we were alone because her sexy innocence drives me insane in all the right ways. Her eyes. Her smile. The whole package. I couldn’t believe my good fortune, and I behaved accordingly. I literally pounced on her. Devoured her. Acted like we only had thirty seconds instead of all night. And then I pulled a humiliating Quick Draw McGraw routine on her. We didn’t get our clothes all off. I’ve never seen her naked. Not entirely, anyway. I didn’t take the time to tell her that she’s beautiful. Beautiful. I didn’t order room service and spoil her. Didn’t reach for her in the night. Didn’t spoon her with my nose pressed to her fragrant hair and soak up the scent of peaches. Didn’t wake up with her in my arms and fuck her again.

In short, I treated her to sixteen-year-old boy’s wham, bam, thank you, ma’am special. Truly a proud moment for me.

And she was a virgin. I’m the only man she’s ever given herself to, and I couldn’t treat her any better than that?

Hell. No wonder she left. I’m lucky she didn’t give me the finger on her way out.

Except…

She came for me, didn’t she? A couple times. And she did it loudly and with great enthusiasm. Exactly like I somehow knew she would the first time I laid eyes on her.

That caged tiger inside me rumbles with satisfaction.

And I certainly came. As though she’d stuck a nuclear warhead inside me and fired it at will.

So, the night wasn’t a complete loss, was it?

I smile to myself with grim satisfaction. Just for a second, until I remember how it all ended.

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