Page 105 of Captivated

“Really Amelia you’re sitting in a designer bikini talking to an actual pig that belongs in the farmyard.” Tina is repulsed. “Better yet farm to table,” she squeaks, finding a spot to relax on the beach.

“Don’t listen to her porker, she’s just jealous because you’re getting all the attention.” I laugh at her.

“Did you grow up on a farm?” I sit down next to her. The porker squealed off.

“No.” She chuckles watching the pigs and others interacting.

“You’re so laid back.” I watch Tierra and Tina. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Tina and Tierra, but they can be difficult women at times.”

“All women can be difficult.” Amelia corrects, looking at me. “Tina made a comment about her daddy’s yacht, she come from a lot of money too?” I smirk, looking at her.

“Yeah, her dad’s a big shot in New York.”

“Are you originally from New York?” she asks.

“I am.” She’s looking out at the view.

“Are you all from New York? I mean you mentioned comments of growing up together and such.”

“New York and the surrounding areas. Yes, mostly New York. We met in school. Our families would vacation in the Hamptons. Tina and Michael always had a thing for each other; Tierra and Andy not so much. Originally Tierra liked me.” She looks at me, grinning. “But she soon realized that was never going to happen. Andy, now, he was smitten with her from the first time we all met. I don’t know what changed, but when we came back home for summer one year, she was hot as shit and she was enamored by him.” I look back at the gang. “I think they’re ready.”

“Yeah.” She stands dusting sand off her bottom.

I lace our fingers as we walk towards my gang. “You’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside, Amelia.”

“Aw Mr. Starks, I’m just a scullery maid smitten with a very sexy hunk of man.”

“Are you now?” I grin, sucking her bottom lip. “A scullery maid rocking a fifteen-hundred-dollar bikini.”

AMELIA

“Sweetheart, wake up.” I jerk awake. I must have dozed off in the limo. “We’re at the marina.”

“Oh.” I smile at him as everyone is stretching.

Steve opens the door. “Sir, your items.” Quinton smiles as he accepts the bag. I look around noticing the suits carrying all the bags from our shopping excursions of the day.

“Steve, we’ll return in an hour or so. Dinner and clubs tonight,” Quinton tells him. He loops our arms together as we walk. “You have a nice nap?”

“So, so.” He laughs.

“Sir.” I watch him take his shoes off and toss them in the basket. He empties his pockets as well. He grabs my beach bag, and holds his hand out for me to balance to remove my shoes.

I look over the marina. “Do people always stop and stare?” He laughs as he nods.

“Sweetheart I’ll only be a few minutes … I need to speak with the captain.” He kisses me. “Then I’m going to strip this little swimsuit from your body.”

I walk into our room, all my laundry has been washed and put away. “Son of a bitch,” I whisper. The bedding smells fresh. I notice my phone is on. “Weird, I thought Quinton killed it.” I pick it up and my voicemail is full; over fifty messages, all from Eric. He has been calling all day from the time he expected me in that car up until thirty minutes ago. I feel sick. He sent over a hundred text messages. I cringe at the visible words … “He’s on his fucking way home …” I reread it. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” I turn to Quinton’s voice when he walks in the room. I hold my phone up.

“I thought you killed it?” I keep looking at it.

“I did. It was off.” He grabs it from my hand. “Was it on when you came in here?” I nod.

“Don’t open the texts or he’ll be able to tell I’ve read them.” I look up at him with my stomach in knots. “He’s been calling and texting all day. He’s on his way home.” I watch him kill it again, tossing it aside.

“Irrelevant.” He grabs my hands, pulling me with him towards the bathroom. How can he say that? I have that worrying nausea in the pit of my stomach. Like something bad is about to happen. He turns the shower on. “Come on beautiful.” I watch every muscle flex as he removes his shirt.

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