Page 8 of His Curvy Castaway Obsession - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

My reflex is to grab hold of him, to press myself into him, but he pulls himself back, shuddering a gasping breath of his own before he lets out another signature growl.

“Mine…” he whispers hoarsely, and I notice his thickness all over again as he turns away suddenly making his way towards the yacht.

“Come on!” he calls out over his shoulder, “I’ll show you around, we have a little time before guests start arriving.”

Chapter Six

Michael

Doing these Parker functions, it’s always a drag and now I realize how maybe I should’ve thought of a better way to get Zoe alone. Being on a hundred and fifty foot luxury yacht with a dozen bazillionaires while she serves them their rich swill is hardly the best way to spend any real quality time with my girl.

The caterer arrives just as she’s changing and I remember the hundred other things that need to be done. Normally I’d delegate. Normally I’d have an extra dozen staff.

But I can’t have that many people around Zoe, not yet. I know waiting staff, they can be the bitchiest, most hurtful of the bunch.

It’s bad enough throwing her into the arena with all those society boffins, but I know she’ll hold her own. I know she’ll make me proud.

When I see her in that uniform, my dick shifts so hard it nearly tips me off balance. I want her so bad it hurts.

I adjust her collar, looking for any excuse just to touch her, to be near to her. Before I know it, I’m moving in for a kiss.

But it’s too soon for that.

I have to wait. Otherwise it won’t be perfect.

I can tell she doesn’t mind, but I want us to wait, we need to be alone and without interruptions, which are flying at me now as the catering crew and even other security all want a piece of me all in the same minute I try to even get us aboard to show Zoe around.

I direct catering to the Galley they know the drill, been here before. I can leave them to work their magic. But everyone else I blow off, just for a while. I want to show Zoe around, making sure she knows where everything is and what she’ll need to do.

“Drinks are straightforward…” I hear myself droning, rambling off the score of things most staff never pay attention to let alone remember, but with Zoe, she’s hanging on my every word. Great for an event planner, but it’s making me feel like a prick for telling her what to do.

She should be the one being waited on hand and foot, not the other way around.

Just for one day, baby. I swear… I promise…

“How many guests?” She asks, and I have to rethink if she’s asked me that already. I’m losing track of what I’m saying, finding it hard to focus. All I want to do is scoop her up, kick in one of these cabin doors and have my way with her, then sail off into the sunset with her staining my face with her sweet essence as I knead her plentiful ass with both my hands…

“Wha…?” I ask, noticing my mouth hanging open as I catch myself staring at her chest… again

“Oh! About a dozen… You’ll be okay with that?” I ask, clearing my throat and noticing the familiar sound of at least one of them arriving already, I remind myself I have to change.

Shawn, the captain, He’s a sport and he intercepts the first early bird guests, an ancient couple that I only invited because I know they’ll be no real trouble. She drinks the gin and he talks about boats. It’s that simple.

“I can see why security wanted me just now…” I murmur.

“I thought you were security?” Zoe asks, looking sidelong at me.

“I am, but there’s a ton of behind the scenes guys. At the gates, even out on the water… Can you get those two set up with drinks, maybe some chit chat until I return?”

“Sure,” Zoe says, and I watch her be received by the two elderly guests warmly. She’s a pro at her job, I can tell but it kills me to watch her doing anything like this for money.

Shawn tips his hat to me before disappearing back towards the bridge stairs and glances at his watch, a subtle cue for me to hurry up and get ready.

I might manage these sorts of events, but the Captain’s ship is still the Captain’s ship. He has his own timetable and his own shit to do, I guess.

Making my way down the side of the yacht, I can see another couple of limos pulling up.

Christ! Don’t they have breakfast?

But I know the guests, the type of clientele too well. They’ll skimp on spending their own money, if they can get a free feed and more importantly, a free watering with primo booze, they’ll front up an hour or two early and pretend they read the invitation wrong.

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