The man was attractive and well dressed in pristine white slacks and short-sleeved shirt, the top two buttons left undone. Laceless deck shoes covered his bare feet, and a gold ring with a blood-red ruby sparkled on his right ring finger. Clean-shaven, he sported a thick head of dark hair with enough length to lend a rakish quality and a hint of salt at the temples to give him a distinguished appearance.
She returned his smile, quickly stowed her TPC instructions back into her clutch, and clasped his offered hands.
He flashed a dentist’s dream of a grin, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. The man was very handsome in a charming way. The only problem was she had no idea what name to call him. She decided to play along. “And you’re as complimentary as always, sir.”
He paused, chuckled, and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Now, Dana, I thought I told you to call me James.” He gave her a quick kiss and held her hand as he guided her down the pier.
“Yes, sir…James,” she said with amusement, not quite matching his longer-limbed stride.
With a sideways glance, he added, “And I was merely speaking the truth.” He pulled her to a stop at the bottom of a gangplank to a small but impressive yacht. His hands cupped her upper arms, slid down in a slow caress that caused her flesh to tingle, her pulse to quicken. “You are gorgeous.”
For a brief moment, he seemed to break from their roles, his expression serious, his words solemn.
She held his hazel-eyed gaze and replied, “Thank you.”
He blinked, and the spell was broken.
“Uh, I was afraid I might’ve overdressed for the occasion,” she admitted nervously when he surprised her by dropping to one knee.
“Not at all,” came his gallant response. His grin was pure devil, though, as he looked up at her and reached out to stroke her calf, the back of one knee, a little thigh at the edge of her hemline. “Although, as much as I love seeing you in high heels, the decks are teak, so…” He slipped off the stiletto on her left foot first and then the other. When he rose to his feet once more, he’d gained an additional three-inch advantage over her five-foot-four-inch frame.
Her shoes dangling from one hand, he curled a finger under her chin and dipped his head down to press another chaste kiss on her lips, which erased the pout that had started to form. He took her by the hand and escorted her onto the yacht.
“Now, I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise?”
“Although you’ve only been with my firm a few weeks, and you’ve become a true asset around the office, we are not at work. I’m not your boss tonight. You aren’t my employee. Understood?”
With relief, she nodded, at last recognizing the fantasy her Pleasure Masters must’ve chosen to fulfill. Meeting on the pier was a creative detour from her more mundane idea of an office affair, but she liked the spontaneity. And she had mentioned other fantasies with an ocean or beach setting, so it would’ve been an easy assumption to include a little of that in this night’s entertainments.
“Excellent. Now let me show you around.” He guided her onto the yacht and gave her a tour. Below deck, there was a dual-purpose kitchen and living area with a built-in, state-of-the-art entertainment system, a spacious master suite with small bathroom, and even a second sleeping area behind a curtain in the bow of the vessel. Above deck were the controls and several padded seats and benches, perfect for parties or lounging in the sunshine.
“You have a beautiful yacht.” It wasn’t the largest in the marina, not even close, but it was quite impressive nonetheless with its polished-to-a-shine hardwood trimmings and luxurious decor.
“Benefits of a successful business and years of hard work, my dear.”
He handed her a flute of champagne as she took a seat on one of the padded benches and laid her clutch aside. He retrieved a picnic basket from below and, to her surprise, revealed a delicious gourmet meal. She reveled in the unique mix of wealthy prestige and casual informality as they shared a very pleasant dinner of lobster tails, steamed vegetables, and a strawberry cheesecake that could make any woman orgasm.
As the meal progressed, James became adorably playful. Dipping his fingertip into the sweet strawberry sauce, he raised it to her lips.
“Mmm,” she said on a sigh as she suckled the desert from his finger. “Your chef deserves a raise. I swear this is the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” His bright grin was sincere. “Ready for a little adventure?”
She took a sip of her champagne then nodded with a smile as he refilled her glass and reseated the bottle in a nearby bucket of ice.
“I’ll be right back.” He cleared the dishes with efficient speed and carried away the picnic basket. After a few seconds, she heard him holler to someone on the dock. The lines were released, and he returned to the captain’s chair where he was all business while navigating away from the dock and through the traffic of the harbor.
Dana enjoyed the cool evening breeze that lightly swept through her hair while she watched James steer the yacht out onto the open water. She wondered idly whether that was his real name, not that it mattered. It suited him-simple, yet sophisticated.
He carried himself well, competent but not arrogant. He had a nice, tight ass and hard biceps, and although he was dressed like a powerful executive with enough riches to have a private yacht, he moved with the strength of a blue-collar worker familiar with hard labor. There was no captain other than himself to maneuver the vessel, no staff to cater to his every whim, and yet the visual of his self-sufficiency made her smile.
She almost wished they were not play-acting, that she really was his secretary or assistant or some employee blessed to work with him on a daily basis.
He turned a smile toward her and held out his hand. She kept her glass in one hand and rose to stand beside him. He pulled her into a one-arm embrace, her back to his front, as he continued to steer the yacht farther out to sea.
Glancing back, she could easily make out the city’s skyline along the shore, so they weren’t too far out. Far enough though to leave behind the constant hustle and bustle, the chaotic sounds of city life. Being out on the water enabled her to see for miles, and she noted the other ships of all types-barges to cruise liners, speedboats to sailboats-their numbers fewer than before, and the distance greater so that she could almost envision them being all alone in the world, set adrift on the open ocean.
“Look,” he whispered, the word a soft puff of warm air against her cheek.
She turned in the direction he pointed and saw a spectacular sunset reflected over the watery horizon. Her breath caught.
“Oh, it’s beautiful.”
He kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck, and nipped her earlobe. “Not as beautiful as you.”
She was no fashion model, but it was nice to hear someone, especially a handsome man with warm, strong arms, say so. She did take some pride in her appearance, in staying fit and taking care of herself. Monthly spa trips were her own private pamper sessions she refused to skip. But she was also comfortable sans makeup, in torn T-shirt and paint-stained cutoffs, seated on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and an old movie on the TV.