Maybe.
The man got me a fucking yacht date! And my donuts.
“No moving? No ‘King of the World’ moment?”
“Nope. Definitely no DiCaprio-ing.” He shakes his head and extends his hand. “Come on, I didn’t think you’d resist a good challenge.”
“Just to note, based on the ‘Queen Elizabeth 2’ over there, and the dinner selection, this does count as a billionaire date.”
“So noted, Avril.” His smirk is infuriating and if it wasn’t for the ocean of doom next to us, I would do something about it. Probably I’d drag his ass in the back of the car and do a bit of a deep-sea exploration of my own to rediscover what’s behind his shorts, in appreciation of the ridiculously over the top date.
He does feel the need to correct me, however, noting, “But the ship’s name is ‘The Flyer’.”
I roll my eyes at him again over the sound of his deep laughter but allow him to take my cold palm in his ridiculously warm one, and to be gently pulled from the Range Rover.
With every step approaching the craft, my breath hitches and my blood pressure rises, and I clutch onto my date’s hand harder and harder. An overwhelming sensation of dread sweeps over me as Jon steps on the boarding ramp and I freeze.
“You OK there, DJ? Look, this was a bad idea, we’ll go somewhere else,” he remarks, his green eyes watching over me in concern.
“Nope,” I squeak. "I… I can do this.” The sway of the boat is freaking me out so I turn back towards the car, but I don’t want to be defeated by a dumb aluminum construction. “Distract me,” I tell my date.
“Alright. Let me try one more thing and if that doesn’t work, we go, OK? I don’t feel right pressuring you to go up the ramp.” My knees go a bit weak, hearing the caution in his tone. “Right…” Jon continues tentatively, “close your eyes.”
I show him my middle finger instead, causing him to rumble my name. The familiar low voice in which he says “DJJJ” relaxes me slightly, and I chose to play nice and lower my eyelids.
Temporarily unbalanced by the loss of sight, I grab onto the rail, breathing slowly, taking in the salty air and attempt to center myself with the sound of the waves and seagulls, but the reality of having a water pit right next to me is not making things easy.
A whiff of Jon’s cologne gives his position away as I can tell he moves closer to me. He moves my ponytail out of the way and his fingers leave goose bumps in their trail as he touches my skin. His nose runs over my neck, the texture of his beard following, scraping against the strap on my shoulder as he puts both his hands on my waist.
I gulp as his teeth pull on my ear lobe gently.
And gulp even more as he whispers, “Eyes closed,” as he just lifts me as if I weigh nothing and only takes a few giant steps of his until he puts me down, on what I assume is the deck of his boat.
Frankly, if I wouldn’t have my blood pressure going through the roof, I would have found that extremely sexy. Who am I kidding? I was already clenching my thighs together.
“Jon!” I exclaim instead and try to open my eyes but the taste of lips against mine shuts me right up. It’s easy to forget all about the water surrounding us, not even knowing what planet we are on as his tongue sneaks in, dominating mine, and I need to grasp his shoulders to keep myself steady. His hands move to my ass, his digits digging into my garment.
“How hungry are you?” my caveman heaves, as he rests his forehead on mine.
“Not that hungry,” comes out raspy, and I find myself moved again, this time my back touching a wall.
“Too bad,” he says, and I can guess a sneaky smile pulling at his lips, “I am ravenous. But unfortunately, my attempt at distracting you may have backfired.”
The thud of Jon dropping forces my eyes open, but I don’t notice anything in the luxury yacht, as I have a god kneeling in front of me.
Jon
OK,Ididn’texpectto be a horny jackass who can’t keep his paws off his woman. My control snapped twice already, once when she opened the door and reminded me of cotton-candy with that flowy skirt and fucking adorable pink shoes with white shoelaces. Sporting pink lipstick and a naughty but strategical ponytail. I just had to sample her. So, I did.
I was pretty excited to rent ‘The Flyer’ again, as I usually take her out for a long weekend, when I want to blow off some steam and go jet skiing a bit further off the coast. But I ended up almost blowing the date right out of the water, as clearly, I miscalculated. Thank goodness for the deep-fried dough and grilled beef combo to entice DJ.
Her vulnerability was completely unexpected, so used to her kicking-ass-and-taking-names attitude. I had to restrain myself from grabbing her in a bear hug so she never had to be worried again. To put her in a cocoon and have her safe and secure, while I protect her against everything. But that isn’t for my skater girl, who was close to decking me the first time I met her. Not for the force of nature which is Dahlia Jara. Hence, I chose the least ‘brute’-y reaction to show her the boat is not that bad and that she can actually get on it herself.
That’s when I lost it the second time. The ‘distraction’ technique turned out to be a swift way of distracting myself instead of the brunette. The moment I touched her soft skin, I lost the plot completely and took another taste by nibbling on her ear. Out the door went my initial plan of walking her slowly up the ramp, easing her in, and I just picked her up and had her against the wall.
“Caveman,” her voice trembles and my adrenaline spikes as I put my hands on her knees and gently part her legs. The small yelp from DJ when I start lifting her skirt is similar to a gun going off at the beginning of a race, and I hold my breath as I slowly reveal more and more of her limbs, keeping myself in check instead of ripping the damn material off her.
My jaw slackens and I still when I get to the apex of her thighs. Flicking my gaze at her, I see a triumphant smirk.