Johan turned fully around, his board shorts looking a little tighter in the front
and his fingers fiddling with the braided leather bracelet on his wrist. “I think
I’d do just about anything to watch. As long as it’s okay with you.”
Wyatt lifted an eyebrow at Kelsey, a question mark. “Your call, love. I won’t command
you on this one.”
“Drop anchor, Johan,” she said without tearing her gaze away from Wyatt.
Wyatt’s full lips curved. “Get on your knees, love, and face the side railing. Time
for me to fuck you.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, feeling that rush that came when he used
that
tone.
She climbed off Wyatt and crawled on her hands and knees to the side railing, the
Caribbean stretching out in front of her, an endless blue horizon. Johan scrambled
around, hitting buttons and causing a loud grinding beneath them as the anchor dropped.
But Kelsey was no longer paying attention to him. Not when Wyatt sidled up behind
her and stroked her waist.
“Put your hands on the bottom rail,” he breathed against her ear.
She did so without hesitation, her blood quickening in her veins. He pulled cuffs
from the duffel bag he’d brought with him, ones with soft, supple leather and a little
chain between them. With deft movements that belied his I-haven’t-done-this-in-a-while
experience, he locked her to the railing, leaving her chained and resting on her forearms,
her nipples brushing the canvas of the cushion she was perched on and her ass in the
air. The wanton position probably should’ve made her self-conscious, but instead a
surprising stillness bloomed inside her, intense calm.
Wyatt stroked the back of his hand down her spine, sending tingling sparks outward
and all the way to her toes, and then he pushed her skirt upward, exposing her fully.
His palms skated over her curves, warming, worshiping, lulling her into an even deeper
state of focus. The man knew exactly how to wake up her senses, how to make her aware
of every part of herself. No hiding. No separating her mind from the things stirring
her body.
Stay here with me, love. Your responses are mine.
She could almost hear the whisper of that command in his deliberate movements.
Then, right as she thought she’d memorized his rhythm, his next move, a sharp smack
landed on her ass cheek, the force of it making air whoosh past her lips. Wyatt pressed
his palm to the stinging spot, soothing again. “So very pretty, love. You should see
how your pussy has already gone dark and pink for me.”
He spanked her opposite cheek just as hard, the sound echoing in the air around them.
She whimpered softly, the fierceness of his blows sending a flood of moisture between
her thighs, the burning sting only making her squirm for more of his touch. Fiery
need engulfed her.
He gusted a gentle breath over her soaked sex. “And your scent, I could just bury
myself in it, eat this sexy cunt until they heard your screams all the way back on
the main island.”
“Fuuuuck.”
Kelsey thought at first that she had been the one to breathe that word; it had been
what she was thinking. But the low, male voice was not her own. She turned her head
to the side to find Johan sitting a few feet away, his gaze burning, his lips parted,
and the front of his shorts tenting with a rather impressive erection.
“You like him watching you, Kelsey?” Wyatt asked before slowly drawing the tip of
his tongue over her slit. “Like knowing that he wishes it was him about to fuck you
instead of me?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the dirty words and touch of his tongue vibrating through
her and lighting up all those needy deviant parts of herself. “Yes, sir.”
“If you want to please her, Johan, take off that shirt of yours and give her something
to look at. My pretty girl thinks you look like an Abercrombie model,” Wyatt said
with playful sarcasm.
There was a scrambling sound of quick movement.
Wyatt’s fingers dipped inside her, curling and stroking, and she moaned, her eyes
fluttering open. In her peripheral vision, she saw Johan yanking his T-shirt off like
it was on fire, and he exposed the tan, fit physique of a guy who spent his days swimming
against the waves. Lovely and lean. Not in the honed, broad-shouldered way Wyatt was,
but easy on the eyes nonetheless. Johan gave her a small, abashed smile when he noticed
her looking.
But the sight of Johan didn’t affect her nearly as much as what his presence represented.
The fact that Wyatt was behind her, indulging her with a good-looking college guy
to play with, imposing no shreds of jealousy or insecure male posturing, was about
the hottest thing she could imagine. That supreme confidence of not thinking but
knowing
that no one could compete with him for her attention made her ache all the more.
She was all his, and he knew it.
But Kelsey couldn’t focus on their one-man audience for long because Wyatt’s mouth
was on her again, his thumbs spreading her open and giving him full access to every
sensitive spot. Her head lolled forward, her eyes closing again, as tight, winding
sensation worked through her. He took the slow and sensual approach, like he didn’t
care if they sat here in the middle of the water until the sky went black. Long and
languid strokes that made her legs quiver; soft, sucking kisses to her clit; and light
teasing brushes over her back opening all coalesced and transformed her into a mewling,
panting mess. The cuff chain rattled against the metal railing as she fought to hold
herself still, and the blue horizon swam in her vision.
This man didn’t simply use his mouth as a step to get to the main course, he feasted
and savored her like this was the five-star meal. “Wyatt, please, I’m going to come.”
A hand swatted her thigh, swift and biting, making her choke on her moan. Wyatt shifted
behind her. “You won’t. Not until I tell you.”
She lifted her head, trying to catch her breath and push back the climbing urge before
it moved past the point of her own control. Her sight snagged on Johan. The laces
were now undone on the front of his board shorts and his hand was tucked inside. His
eyelids had gone half-mast, but his focus was still locked on the two of them. She
glanced back over her shoulder at Wyatt, who was sitting back on his knees, his fingers
stroking her again. “He doesn’t get to come until I do either.”
A soft, strangled gasp escaped Johan.
Wyatt smiled, dark appreciation in his eyes. “He’s not yours to command, love.”
“I’ll do it,” Johan cut in, the words rushed and eager. “I’ll wait for her.”
Wyatt’s gaze seared her, his own desire like a physical blow to her body. “Lucky,
lucky me. Now I have two of you at my mercy.” The back of his hand brushed her slick
folds. “There’s lube in my bag, kid, if you need it. I like to take my time with her.”
Johan cursed softly.
“Open for me, Kelsey.”
She spread her knees wide and tilted her hips upward, all of her tender parts now
pulsing with the blood pumping fire through her. Her fingers curled around the railing.
“Tell me what you want, love,” Wyatt said, the sound of his zipper like thunder compared
to the quiet sounds of water lapping, her own breath, and the slick slide of Johan’s
pumping fist. Wyatt rolled on a condom and positioned himself behind her, tracing
the tip of his cock along her folds in an agonizing tease. She rocked her hips backward,
trying to take him in, to force things, but he wasn’t going to let her control that.
He pinched the back of her thigh with evil intensity. “Tell me or you won’t get any
of it.”
She cried out at the pinch, the sharp pain shooting upward and somehow making her
nipples ache for the same. “I want you, sir. Your hands, your cock. I want you to
fuck me until I scream and Johan comes all over himself.”
“Fucking hell,” Johan groaned, his voice sounding desperate and distant to Kelsey’s
buzzing brain.
Wyatt gripped her hips and shoved forward, stretching her hard and fast, and stealing
all her oxygen. She arched upward, the sudden sensation of being so full an intense
one. “Oh, God.”
Her teeth sunk into her lip as he reared back and plunged forward again. No sweetness
or gentleness there, just determined dominance. His fingers bit into her hips with
bruising force, and the pain was like sweet, sweet fire racing over her nerve endings.
“That’s right, love. Take it hard. Show me how much you like to be fucked.”
She sagged fully onto her forearms as he thrust over her slick tissues, holding her
at the perfect angle to grind right over her hot spot. Her mind began to fuzz from
the pleasure, the pain, the perfect cocktail of both.
His hand locked in her hair, pulling tight against her scalp, and he turned her head.
“Look at him, love. Look what your sexy moans are doing to him. Feel what they’re
doing to me.”
She pried her eyes open, even though she was drifting into that near-narcotic headspace
Wyatt seemed to bring her to, and saw that Johan had shoved his shorts down his thighs
and was reclined against the other railing, his jutting cock ruddy and thick in his
glistening fist and his other hand cupping and squeezing his balls. Clearly he had
his own appreciation for a little pain. All shyness had disappeared in the blinding
haze of lust and desire. His gaze latched onto hers. He looked on the brink, desperate,
but determined not to break before she did.
Wyatt released her hair, but she understood he wanted her to keep watching. Johan
was a gift to her. And Wyatt seemed to be enjoying her teasing another. His arm wrapped
around her, finding her swollen clit and pinching. She groaned, a wholly unfeminine
sound, and spots appeared in her vision. “Please, Wyatt, please, I can’t—”
“You can come, love. Come all over my cock and watch your boy lose it.”
He thrust into her, the tops of his thighs smacking the back of hers and his fingers
worked her clit with the skill of a man who knew exactly what she needed. Johan’s
eyes went foggy and she knew hers had to look the same. She watched his tan fist slide
along his erection, a beautifully carnal site, but it only made her imagine what Wyatt’s
thick cock looked like right now, wet and shiny with her juices, plunging and disappearing
inside her as he claimed her, her body open and desperate for him. Pleasure sizzled
through her like sharp, electric shocks.
“Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. You’re so goddamned hot around me, love.” Wyatt’s
fingers branded her hipbone as his opposite hand rubbed along the sides of her clit,
lighting her up and obliterating any remaining control. She exploded with a sharp
cry that carried over the water and pushed her over the edge. Her wrists yanked at
the chains as the waves of orgasm slammed into her, making her body writhe against
Wyatt’s tight hold on her.
Then dual male groans overtook her noises, both Wyatt and Johan going over at the
same time. Wyatt’s cock swelled and pumped inside her, his body going tense against
her, as she watched Johan’s eyes roll back and thick spurts of his release shoot over
his belly and chest.
Ahhhh, God.
That’s all she could think as another wave of her orgasm crashed over her.
Everything was so hot, so electric, so
alive
.
She was no angel or wide-eyed innocent. But somehow no matter how many wild, debauched
nights she’d had in her life or how many drug highs she’d ridden, nothing compared
to the pure, unencumbered pleasure she experienced being topped by this man.
He was better than heroin.
And more dangerous.
But right now she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
SEVENTEEN
Wyatt leaned against the railing of the dock, waiting to
help Kelsey down from the boat and watching with warm amusement as she said her say
good-bye to Johan. The kid was in full
aw, shucks
mode, his hair falling forward as he ducked his head and smiled at Kelsey’s murmured
words.
Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, a little surprised by his own reaction. When
he’d been with Mia, he’d been ready to tear apart any guy who came near her like some
junkyard dog protecting his territory. And she’d known that it was his weak spot.
When she’d wanted him to take her further, push the punishment and the pain past where
he thought safe for her, she’d taunted him with other men to draw that meanness out
of him. He’d taken the bait more often than he’d care to admit.
But with Kelsey that feeling of possessiveness was different. When she’d mentioned
that she’d help out with Carmichael, he’d had a surge of
fuck no
. He didn’t want her anywhere near that prick, but only because he felt the urge to
shield her from any and all ugliness. She’d seen enough of that in her life already.
Otherwise, he felt this odd sense of calm trust in her. The way she looked at him
when he commanded her made him feel like a giant, like as long as he was there, she
wouldn’t really see any other guy around. That rush was something he’d never experienced
before. And seeing her weave her spell around Johan, knowing that Kelsey was strong
enough both to submit to Wyatt yet trust him to see her other side, had gotten him
so turned on, he’d damn near impaled Kelsey when he’d finally gotten behind her.
And she hadn’t been putting on a show for his benefit or Johan’s. Her responses had
been genuine, her kinky side blooming right there in front of him like a hothouse
flower. No fear or hesitation. His sweet waitress was dirty in the best way possible.
Kelsey laid a hand on Johan’s forearm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then
she glanced down toward the dock, finding Wyatt’s gaze and sending him a smile that
hit him right in the sternum. “Gonna help me down, Mr. Austin?”
He pushed off the railing and stepped forward, offering his hand. “I’m here to serve
you, love.”
“Liar.”
He helped her down to the pier, and Johan went to work getting their bag unloaded.
Wyatt curled her against his side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “We need to find
our ride. This private charter was well worth it, but I think we only have a little
over an hour to get to tonight’s cocktail party now.”
She leaned into him. “I probably should be nervous, but I feel like I’ve had a couple
of shots of tequila.”
He chuckled. “You had a couple of shots of something.”
She poked his ribs, but then turned into him, pushing up on her toes and kissing him
like they’d been lovers forever. Her blue eyes were soft when she pulled away. “Thank
you for that.”
“For what, love?” he asked, sensing she wasn’t simply thanking him for the sex.
She moved her hair all to one side, gathering it over her shoulder. “For not treating
me with kid gloves after everything we talked about. For pushing me anyhow.”
He touched her jaw. “I can’t seem to help myself with you. You break down my good
sense.”
She smirked and grabbed his hand to tug him toward shore. “Good. I like when you lose
a little bit of your polish.”
He laughed. “I’m not all that shiny, love.”
“Well, time to put your armor back on then because we have some client fishing to
do.”
* * *
Kelsey adjusted the neckline of her strapless maxi dress,
trying to make sure she was still in the classic sexy zone and not the trashy hooker
one. The line was kind of blurred in her mind these days. “You sure this looks appropriate?
There’s not much else I can do with the girls to hide them.”
Wyatt’s attention slid over to her as they made their way along the sandy path that
led down to the beach, his gaze tracing along her throat and cleavage. “First of all,
hiding them would be a crime against mankind, so I’m against anything that would do
so. And second, you look beautiful. You have a glow to your skin like you’ve been
lying in the sun.
Or
have recently had a screaming orgasm in the middle of the Caribbean.”
“That is good for a girl’s coloring,” she mused, squeezing his hand.
He dipped his head next to her ear as they approached the decked-out beach party.
“Here we go. Lights. Camera. Ass-kissing.”
Kelsey pasted on a smile, but her stomach felt like marbles were rolling around inside
her and knocking together. The party had commandeered a big portion of the beach,
more than necessary based on the number of partygoers. Though Kelsey guessed if you
owned the whole island, you could have as much space as you wanted. People were spread
out in small groupings, the flames of tiki torches swaying and dancing around them
in the salty breeze, mixing with the smells of roasted meat. Off to the far side there
seemed to be a makeshift dance floor on a spot where the sand was harder packed. A
three-man steel drum band was playing a beat that mixed in with the crashing of the
waves.
The whole setting was idyllic. Built for the carefree. Too bad she was about as far
from carefree as she could be at the moment. And her date didn’t seem much better.
The set of his jaw looked like he was preparing to go into a battle with no weapons.
“Where’s the keg?” Kelsey whispered as they slipped off their sandals and stepped
into the silky sand, hoping humor would take the bite out of her nerves.
Wyatt hip checked her lightly, a playful tease, but his face remained stoic and smooth
as a waiter approached with a tray. “Miss, can I offer you a refreshment? Champagne?
Rum punch?”
She eyed the bubbly and fruity-looking drinks, the ghost of her old self automatically
calculating how many of those it would take to get a buzz. She pushed back the thought,
disgusted her mind still went there. “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?”
“We have fresh-pressed mango-pineapple juice at the bar. Would you care for that?”
“We’ll take two of those,” Wyatt said evenly.
“Right away, sir.” The waiter gave a little nod and strode off to get them their special
order.
“You don’t have to abstain on my behalf. I’m used to being around alcohol,” Kelsey
said, absently adjusting her top again. Apparently that was going to be her nervous
tic tonight. “It doesn’t bother me if others drink.”
He stared out across the crowd as if scanning for the best point of attack. “I didn’t
do it for that reason. I’m not a big drinker to begin with, but I like to stay sharp
at something like this. Let other people get tipsy around me and start spilling their
personal business, and I’ll be sober enough to remember it.”
She shook her head, smirking. “So you can use it against them?”
He looked down at her, that blue gaze a bit wounded. “So I can use it
for
them, love. I want to make them money, not swindle them.”
The waiter returned with their drinks, and both she and Wyatt ventured farther into
the mix of people. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she took in the other guests and
the snippets of conversation. If wealth had a sound it was this—lofty laughter, clinking
glasses, claps on the back. She took a long sip of her drink, trying to still her
shaking hands. She reminded herself that these were just people like the ones she
chatted with every morning at the diner. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t around the
filthy rich at The Ranch. But in that environment different rules applied. It didn’t
matter who had the biggest bank account or fanciest pedigree—her domme status granted
her instant respect.
Wyatt put a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s head closer to the water. I think
I see an acquaint—”
“Wyatt Austin?” A very shrill,
very
southern voice came from their left, cutting off Wyatt. “As I live and breathe, is
that you?”
Both Kelsey and Wyatt turned to find the owner of the outburst coming toward them
with a halo of teased red hair. Her smile was so wide and her approach so urgent that
Kelsey feared for a moment that the older woman was going to tackle Wyatt like a linebacker.
“Brace yourself,” Wyatt said under his breath, but he wore an amused smile as the
hurricane of a woman got near. A younger ginger-headed guy hurried after her like
an owner who’d realized his puppy had broken off the leash. “Hello, Mrs. Pritchard.”
The lady pulled up short in front of them, hands on her hips, her shrewd brown eyes
taking in Wyatt from head to foot. “Well, my word. It
is
you. And look how good looking you turned out.” She turned and smacked the arm of
the younger guy who’d followed her over. “See, son, I told you that was him.”
The guy, who looked to be in his thirties, gave her a bemused smile. “I know, I should
never doubt you, Mother.” He stepped forward and shook Wyatt’s hand. “Good to see
you, man.”
“Same here, Ferris. It’s been years.” Wyatt released the handshake and slipped a palm
onto Kelsey’s back. “This is my girlfriend, Kelsey. Kelsey, this is Mrs. Regina Pritchard,
a former neighbor of mine. And her son, Ferris. He was a few years behind me in school.
I used to tutor him in math.”
Mrs. Pritchard gave her an enthusiastic hand squeeze and a beaming smile. “So nice
to meet you, Kelsey. And what a pretty dress. I love that print.”
The tension in Kelsey eased as she returned the woman’s greeting. Mrs. Pritchard reminded
her of a home ec teacher she’d had in middle school—a force of nature but a benign
one. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Pritchard swept a hand, indicating her own bright purple dress and generous curves,
then lowered her voice. “I had to give up the prints a long time ago. Ferris told
me there really
can
be too much of a good thing. And I’m not going to go against the opinion of a gay
fashion designer.”
Kelsey pressed her lips together, not sure how to react to that.
But Ferris didn’t miss a beat. He shook Kelsey’s hand. “And I’m the gay fashion designer.
Nice to meet you.”
She laughed. “I’m the straight baker.”
And that felt good to say. Even though it was a vast expansion on the truth.
This
is what it would feel like to be proud of a job.
“Excellent,” he said, his warmth as genuine as his mother’s.
Wyatt cleared his throat, clearly searching for small talk, and eventually landed
on what was comfortable for him—facts. “Mrs. Pritchard owns the Belle Bridal Boutique
chain and the Belle of the Ball wedding planning service. She handles a lot of celebrity
weddings.”
“Oh, wow,” Kelsey said, genuinely impressed. Even she knew those wedding boutiques
were the best of best. And she could definitely picture the boisterous Mrs. Pritchard
directing an army to put together an event. “What an exciting job that must be.”
She patted Kelsey’s arm and leaned forward as if telling her a secret. “To tell the
truth, the celebrity ones exhaust me. Nothing like having paparazzi trampling all
over the place like raccoons digging through the trash. I much prefer the more private
affairs or smaller destination weddings.” She sent Wyatt a pointed look. “So when
this one pops the question on you, you give me a call, sweetie, and I’ll give you
a fairy tale.”
Kelsey nearly choked at the preposterous thought, though it didn’t stop the little
girl thrill of thinking about a fairy-tale wedding from zipping through her. God,
where had
that
come from? “Oh, we’re just dating, ma’am.”
Mrs. Pritchard looked between the two of them, her bright pink lips curling into a
conspiratorial smile. “I’ve been doing this for a few decades. I can recognize the
lasting couples from the temporary ones.”
Kelsey glanced at Wyatt, expecting to find that panicked look men get when anyone
mentions marriage, but he looked more thoughtful than anything. Kelsey needed to think
quick. She remembered Mrs. Pritchard being on the index cards. Surely a woman in charge
of such a wedding empire could be a great potential client, especially when she seemed
to have genuine warmth toward Wyatt. This was her chance to take some action and help.
She reached out a hand to Ferris. “Would you care to dance? I’d love to hear about
your designs.”
“Sure.”
Wyatt did send her a panicked expression now, and she slid her gaze toward Mrs. Pritchard,
hoping he got the message. He did. They had a brief, silent argument. She won. His
polite smile reappeared. “Mrs. Pritchard, would you do me the same honor?”
The older woman pressed a hand to her chest like she was having a slight palpitation.
“Of course. Who am I to turn down an offer from such a handsome gentleman? Though,
Ferris may be jealous.” She leaned closer to Wyatt, but didn’t lower her voice. “He
had such a schoolboy crush on you back then. I’ve never seen him study so hard.”
Ferris tilted his face toward the stars as if praying for patience. “I think my next
design needs to be a customized muzzle.”
Kelsey bit her lip to hide her smile and Wyatt chuckled, unfazed by the revelation.
“Hopefully, your taste has improved since then.”
Ferris gave Wyatt a good-natured smile. “I do try to avoid going after the straight
guys these days. But hey, at least now I’m good at math.”
Mrs. Pritchard winked at her son, her pride and affection toward him obvious. “So,
Wyatt, are you going to dance with a broad or what?”
“I’m all yours, ma’am.” Wyatt offered her his arm, the set of his shoulders softer
than a few moments before. This woman was impossible to remain uptight around. “Maybe
you can teach me a few moves.”
Kelsey watched them walk toward the dance area as she and Ferris trailed behind, and
she barely resisted the urge to spin around in a victory dance. She didn’t know if
Wyatt could keep up with Mrs. Pritchard on the dance floor, but she knew one thing
for sure—she’d just helped him go the extra step to get a potential new client. Maybe
she really could be useful for him here.