Page 71 of Born To Be Bad

“I’ll give you a two-dollar hand job to make it up to you,” she says.

I laugh out loud. “I don’t even want to know what a two-dollar hand job entails.”

Ivy joins in on the laughing. “Same. But it probably involves spit and occurs in a scabby gas station restroom.”

“I see your plan. It’s palliative. You want me to lose my hard-on completely.”

She’s still giggling. Breasts jiggling, tiara sparkling.

“You’re the worst super yacht sex date ever,” I say, and she just keeps laughing.

“Sorry,” she eventually says. “I’ve got the giggles. Must be the champagne.”

“The problem with your generation,” I say, trying to keep a straight face, “is that you never take responsibility for your actions.”

“That, and our penchant for smashed avo on gluten-free toast,” she agrees. “And good coffee.”

“Exactly,” I say.

“It’s a curse.”

“I can tell. You look cursed.”

Ivy gasps playfully and swats my arm. “Take that back.”

“What are we? Six-year-old schoolgirls?”

“Take that back or I won’t invite you to my birthday party.”

We both snort again, making the couple beside us glance over with puzzled expressions.

“No more joking, please, Miss Ivy Mickelson,” I whisper to her in my best RP accent. “Sex on a yacht is a very serious business.”

CHAPTER 40

Horndog

IVY

I’m having such a great time with Alistair that I almost forget where we are. It feels so daring, so freeing, to be able to sit naked with other people in a room with no staring, and no disapproval. At most, there are a few appreciative glances our way, and it feels good.

“Pretty safe to say that I’m an exhibitionist, then,” I admit.

“This is excellent news,” Alistair replies. “Now I can show you off.”

“It doesn’t make you jealous?” I ask. “When other men look at me?”

“No, because they’re not the ones who get to take you home.”

“Are you being honest?” I press. I know how territorial he can be.

“Okay,” Alistair relents. “It makes me feel a little possessive, but that’s normal for me. More than anything else, it makes me want you more.”

I sit up straight and grin at him. After this marathon talk about sex, I am more than ready to engage. “Well, I am reiterating my offer that you can have me however you want me tonight. I’m game for anything.”

“My god,” Alistair exclaims, “the pressure!”

“Oh, this won’t be the last time,” I assure him.

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