Dare To Be Wild (17 page)

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Liv, you don't have to do this. We keep pushing you, but you have nothing to prove.”

“I don't feel like you are pushing me. I'm actually starting to enjoy myself,” she said, smiling at the memory of her and Mitchell's bathroom romp and racy phone call.

“Okay. Have fun and take your own condoms. Remember…”

“I know. No cover. No lover.”

“Lena and Jasi are not going to believe this,” Aleesa told her.
“Truth is, neither did I. We all kind of thought you'd get down there and chicken out.”

“Well, you weren't too far off. I was very close to your prophesy coming true. I'd been down here three days and nothing happened. Then I decided to go skinny dipping and the next thing I know, some hottie is literally picking me up on the beach.”

“Probably didn't hurt that you were naked.” Aleesa giggled.

“No, in fact, that's the thing that got the ball rolling. Ooh…gotta go. He's here.”

“Have fun!”

“Oh, I plan to. Did I mention that he's got the dick of life?”

“Twice! Okay, have fun and be safe. Don't forget to text me.”

A
s Quincy preceded him down the length of the dock toward the last slip, a flash of teeth broke out on Mitchell's face. With her wild, honey-colored hair and smoking body, Quincy was the picture of exotic temptation. Even wearing flat, gladiator sandals, she was looking every bit as tall, tanned and confident as the mythical girl from Ipanema. Her strapless maxi dress was both simple and simply sexy. It skimmed the dynamic curves of her lofty frame, and despite its white hue, Quincy appeared anything but virginal. Not only did the color offset her golden tan, it put on display two of her most delectable body parts—her shoulders and bust.

Mitchell could not wait to get his lips on those smashing tatas again. He was well acquainted with faux breasts. Seemed like every other woman he'd dated, including the one he'd married, had been under the plastic surgeon's knife. Like most men, he really preferred the touch and feel of real, but as fake goes, Quincy's were well-placed, naturally shaped and while firmer than real, not as hard as some he'd felt up. Her attitude about them made him curious about the reason behind the augmentation. Most chicks he knew, his ex included, couldn't wait to showcase their off-the-rack, rack. They were a badge of honor and most paraded them around with a sense of pride others reserved for their children. Quincy, on the other hand, appeared almost embarrassed by them.
She seemed surprised every time his attention, whether through a compliment or touch, turned to them.

“You look absolutely scrumptious,” he said, catching up with her and wrapping his arm around Quincy's waist. This being his first experience with an older woman, Mitchell was pleasantly surprised by the admiring looks he received from both his boys and strangers. He definitely had found a vacation prize, and a big part of him wished that bitch, Toris, was here to see that just because she decided to bounce, didn't mean that he couldn't rebound—big time.

“As do you,” Livia said, returning the compliment, but not really paying attention to her date. Mitchell certainly did look yummy as hell, but for the moment, her eyes were eating up the sleek vessel before her. They crossed the gangway onto the aft deck, and Livia was immediately blown away by the opulence around her.
The Contessa
was no mere boat. It was a 210-foot, seaworthy mansion. Now, this was sexy!

“Omigod,” she muttered under her breath with total awe. Accepting a glass of champagne from one of the stewards assigned to greet the guests, Livia soaked in the luxurious party atmosphere. Music was blaring from the first-class sound system as waves of guests gyrated on the dance floor. Moving further onto the main deck, Liv admired the outdoor living room set up, awash in a tasteful and cool tone-on-tone, cream-colored palette. Shaded by the deck above, it was furnished with two large, eggshell sectional couches, with a large coffee table and two chocolate brown chairs adding an earthy touch.

Livia scouted the crowd. The yacht was awash in white, but for several runway-worthy women, each dressed in a different colored bikini, fishnet thigh-high stockings and heels, who were scattered throughout the crowd. Clearly, they were hired to promote something
for some company, but what and for whom, Livia wasn't sure. She judged most of the party people to be a mix of twenty and thirty-somethings, with most of the women falling into the younger group and a few forty-plusers sprinkled throughout. Liv knew that she looked younger than her birth certificate would indicate, but still, she felt like a fish out of water in this sea-going group of hot, young and rich revelers.

“Whose yacht is this?” Livia asked, still ogling her surroundings.

“Some dude named Ahmed. He's the cousin of some Saudi sheik. One of my boys got the hook-up.”

“This is absolutely beautiful,” she replied to tell Mitchell, referring to both the crowd and the ship.

“You're beautiful,” he repeated, unknowingly assuaging her insecurities.

Livia rewarded him with a toothy grin. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“Had to,” he flirted, smiling as he moved in close to speak in her ear so Quincy could hear above the music, and feel the beginnings of his erection. “Don't forget, you're my personal shenanigan.”

“Ah yes, I seem to remember that from the invitation.” She felt her stomach flutter and Quincy contract. Anticipation was truly a serious aphrodisiac.

“So right now, we party. Later, we'll take the VIP tour and finish what we started on the phone last night.”

Livia smiled and bit her lip in expectation. Whether he'd intended to or not, Mitchell had managed to whet her appetite and set her imagination on fire. She had every intention of enjoying herself with this sexy man, and refused to feel guilty when the deed was done. Not this time. Since her party, with her list in hand, she'd found herself immersed in such a Jekyll and Hyde existence. It seemed that while she was in the throes of sexual abandon—whether
in the Maddox hallway in Montclair, in a bar in New York City, or the hotel bathroom in St. Bart's—Livi was capable of staying in the moment and experiencing the delight of sex for sex sake. But once her lust had been tucked back into its steamy box, she was left feeling more shameful than satiated. But not tonight. Tonight, shame and guilt were not an option, because even though they were strangers whose relationship would be over when the sun came up, Mitchell didn't feel like someone Livia had recently met.

Yes, it was true that they knew very little about each other. Hell, he didn't even know her real name. But that didn't seem to matter. Right from the very beginning, there'd been an instant familiarity between them. Livia wouldn't exactly call it true intimacy, but “intimate acquaintance” certainly fit. And more than anything this evening, she felt like being up close and very personal with this hot and handsome partner in salacious crime.

“Let's dance,” she suggested, grabbing Mitchell's hand and leading him happily out into the crowd. She didn't recognize the music, but she certainly loved the groove. Its rhythm was infectious and insistent on making her body move. Too fast for a slow grind, and too slow for a fast boogie, Livia let the music seep into her pores and infuse her body with seductive energy. Her hips began to sway along with her arms, sending a message to her partner that she felt alive and excited by the carnal possibilities that lay ahead.

Mitchell read her body language and responded by bringing his torso in close, placing his hand on her hip and drawing Quincy to him. In unison, they performed a sensuous lovers' dance, oblivious to the throng of partiers engulfing them. Livia enjoyed the way their bodies seem to instinctively fall into sync with one another, making her curious about whether the harmony would be the same when they were dancing horizontally.

“Glad to see you're feeling better.” Mitchell's friend from the beach guided his partner over to tell her.

Mitchell grabbed Livia's hand and twirled her away, slyly putting her on display for his boy.

“Thank you,” Liv replied, smiling at Ken as her eyes quickly shot between the two men. She quickly attempted to decipher their ocular conversation. Best she could translate, Ken was signaling his admiration and approval, answered by Mitchell's expression of manly pride.

Who's the man? You the man!
Livia joked in her head, happy with the attention derived from their boys will be boys moment.
Who's the woman, damn it?
Quincy butted in to continue the conversation.
You've snagged yourself a fine young thing. Give credit where credit is due!

Rihanna's groove “S & M” broke through the chatter and commanded the couple back to the dance floor. Mitchell and Livia danced with their feet planted on the floor and let their bodies do the smack talking. Livia turned her back to him, an invitation for Mitchell to press his crotch against her as she pushed and gyrated her butt against his dick. Liv relished her role as cock tease, and responding to Mitchell's hands on her hips, pushed further into his groin. His eyes stayed glued to Livi's tempting ass as he recalled each glorious stroke he'd taken in the bathroom the night before.

Rihanna's song ended, but the two remained on the floor, shaking and shimmying through several popular tunes, while enjoying the view of each other's bodies in motion, and the imaginative sex play it conjured up. Mitchell felt like his balls were about to explode and decided it was time to cool things down for a while until the real party got started.

“More champagne?”

“That sounds good,” Livia told him. She was thirsty, but more
so, she was ready to quench her usual inhibitions and get her sexy on. They walked over to the bar and Livi looked out onto the water while Mitchell got their cocktails.

“Toast?” he asked, handing her a glass full of bubbly.

“To personal shenanigans,” Livia said, raising her champagne in the air. They touched glasses and downed their drinks, laughing at the synchronicity of their actions. Mitchell abruptly stopped laughing and pulled her in close, devouring her mouth with his. He could taste the sparkling wine on her tongue, which only made him want to taste the effervesce between her lower lips all the more.

Livia's torso melted into his. Mitchell's kiss was truly indicative of the man he was revealing himself to be. It was the sweet satisfying smooch of a horny gentleman—a promising and delightful combination in Livi's eyes.

“What was that?” she asked, as the shock of three horn blasts caused her to jump back.

“Sounds like the VIP cruise is about to get started.”

“What time is it?

“Quarter to midnight. We sail in fifteen minutes.”

“Sail? We're leaving St. Bart's?”

Though her voice remained steady and calm, the seductive glaze in Livia's eyes had been replaced with bright concern.

“Yep, but we're not going far. Just out into international waters,” Mitchell informed her. “But if you'd rather leave now, we certainly can. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Don't forget to text me
. The thought of raising anchor, and leaving the country she was visiting, jiggered Livia's memory, and brought her cousin's appeal to mind.

Livia and Mitchell stepped aside as the first wave of early revelers disembarked. Livi wasn't sure she wanted to know why they needed
to head out into international waters, but frankly, it didn't really matter. What she did know is that she was horny as hell, felt totally safe with Mitchell and was looking forward spending the rest of the evening in his arms.

“So what does our VIP status get us?” she asked, snuggling up against him. “A stateroom, hopefully.”

“That and so much more,” Mitchell replied with a wink. “We're in the Sophia Loren. It's on the lower deck, portside.”

“In that case, what are we waiting for?”

“There's a brief sail away and then we're on our own,” Mitchell informed her.

“Well, I'd like to freshen up before we sail.”

“Okay. Follow me.” Mitchell took her hand and led Livia inside and down the narrow hall toward their cabin. After passing the beautiful teak doors labeled “Gina Lollobrigida” and “Isabella Rossellini,” she determined that all of the cabins were named after famous Italian bombshells.

Mitchell stopped, opened the door to their cabin, and stepped aside so Livia could enter. Open-mouthed, she crossed the threshold, immediately impressed by the opulent nautical splendor before her. She stepped into what could be mistaken for the finest suite in any luxury five-star hotel. The interior design was an impeccable blend of purpose and pomp. The teakwood built-ins blended perfectly with the upholstery's color palette of beige, brown and gold, allowing plenty of room for the king-size bed in the middle of the room.

Surprising both of them, Livia turned and literally threw herself at Mitchell, causing them both to fall onto the bed. Her lips hungrily devoured his, making it clear her intention to have her appetite sated. Since they'd met, he'd been throwing delicious crumbs her
way, enough to keep her hungry, but not enough to keep her satisfied. Tonight, she intended to full out gorge herself on some seriously sexy sustenance.

Just as her hands reached for his shirt buttons, they both heard the engines revving, a sure sign that they were getting ready to leave port.

“I really hate to break this up,” Mitchell said in a voice laden with desire. “But everyone has to be on deck for the sail away. Party rules.”

“Okay. Why don't you go back up on deck,” Livia told him, eyeing the bathroom door. “I'll meet you back on the dance floor in a few minutes.”

“Hurry back up. I've got a few surprises for you.” Mitchell winked at her before quickly departing, eager to get back upstairs and finalize everything.