Scott's Satin Sheets (3 page)

Daniel’s brow knit as he gave a sharp head shake. “You’ll note I said ‘Miss’. You’re looking at Mr. Albright’s daughter.”

Hot damn—thank God she wasn’t married to the old guy.

But on the other hand, it sucked that her name was Albright at all. Because it turned out that Charles Albright was Scott’s new boss. And not just for tonight, either. Today had also brought the news that Albright had just purchased the
Party Barge
and a slew of other pleasure boats in the marina, including a schooner Scott sometimes moonlighted on.

So even as hard as it was to picture the stolid Mr. Albright running the
Party Barge
, complete with its Christmas lights, blow-up palm trees and wet t-shirt contests, the fact remained—Charles Albright was his new employer. Which made the gorgeous blonde flasher the boss’s daughter. Talk about forbidden fruit.

It also made her rich as sin. So rich that he had a feeling she wouldn’t look twice at him in reality—a blue-collar guy with nothing to call his own but a little ambition? Not her style. She was champagne and caviar all the way. As for her little show this morning, she must have had one too many mimosas with breakfast. Or maybe she’d felt the urge to go slumming, even if only momentarily.

Of course, he’d known the moment he’d been instructed that this was Albright’s yacht that his mystery girl would be on it. And maybe he’d hoped—foolishly—that he’d find out she was only…a visitor or something. But he’d probably just been in denial, not
wanting
to find out the sexy flasher was Charles Albright’s wife or daughter, some impossibly rich chick he’d never stand a chance with. Never mind that
anyone
invited onto this yacht would surely be out of his financial league.

“Careful, my friend.”

Scott again turned to find Daniel at his elbow. “Sorry, dude—I’ll get back to work.”

But Daniel chuckled. “No, it’s not that. Just don’t let Mr. Albright see you ogling his daughter that way.”

Yep, forbidden fruit, without a doubt. “Hard not to,” he admitted. “But don’t worry—I know how this works. I’m the hired help. She wouldn’t give me the time of day anyway.”

To his surprise, Daniel smiled conspiratorially. “You misunderstand me. I said don’t let
him
see you looking at her. But if I know Miss Albright, she might indeed give you more than just the time of day.”

Scott blinked. He was about to ask Daniel exactly what he meant by that, but the guy was suddenly gone, off into the crowd, greeting guests with wine just like Scott was supposed to be doing.

Give him more, huh? Maybe this wasn’t the first time the sexy girl had flashed someone. Maybe she was a serious party girl—with rich and poor alike.

This suddenly felt dangerous as hell, but the twitch of his cock in his pants made him reckless, and he couldn’t resist finding out—right now.

Weaving his way across the deck as the sun set behind him, turning the warm air dusky, he walked right up to her. Their gazes met—and he discovered hazel eyes, deep and twinkling with light.

“Wine?” he asked.

Her sly smile acknowledged that they both knew he was offering her more than wine. Still, she took the opportunity to drain her glass, set it on his tray, and take up a fresh one. “Thanks.” One mere word, but it left her moist, pretty lips in a completely silky, sexy way.

A way that encouraged him to barrel heedlessly ahead. “I saw you this morning.”

She played coy, letting her eyebrows rise as if surprised—and as if innocent too.

“Oh?”

Knowing what he was about to say made Scott’s cheeks heat, his cock harden. He glanced around to make sure no one stood too close, then leaned a little nearer. “You opened your robe for me and showed me the hottest body I’ve ever seen. I nearly came watching you touch yourself for me.”

The lecherous sparkle of her eyes forced everything in his body to tighten—pleasurably. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said, soft but direct. “I nearly came too. But I didn’t. I saved it.”

Aw,
damn
, that was hot. “What are you saving it for?”

She shrugged. “I’ve grown tired of masturbation.”

Now his cock literally pulsed in his pants. Since he suddenly couldn’t help imagining her rubbing her pussy. A
lot
—enough to get tired of it. Naked on a bed.

Naked in a shower. Reaching into some hot bikini bottoms while swimming in the ocean. Or while soaking up the sun on this very deck. And he liked the idea of a girl masturbating as much as the next guy—but in this moment, he was damn glad she wanted something more. “Maybe I could—”

“Payton, come here, darling—I want you to meet someone.”

Shit—it was none other than Charles Albright, taking his daughter by the arm and leading her away. And she was gone, just like that. Half stunned by the encounter and its abrupt ending, Scott simply stood there, watching her lovely ass and legs move away from him in the crowd.

Only then—she turned to look over her shoulder at him, and she ran the tip of her tongue so sensually across her upper lip that he thought he’d explode in his black waiter’s uniform, right then and there.
Aw baby
.

Who are you, Payton Albright? And when are you gonna let me in your panties?

* * * * *

Payton drank more wine. Because she wanted to be intoxicated. Intoxicated enough to lose her inhibitions, to do exactly what she wanted to do with her hot waiter boy.

Naturally, he’d looked more rugged, sweaty, this morning in the sun—like a sexy sailor, or pirate, ready to ravish her. But he was still pretty darn sexy waiting on her too.

She knew instantly that her father would hate her having anything to do with an employee, of course. And for some reason that made him all the
more
appealing.

She kept her eye on him as he moved. She instantly disliked when she sensed other women flirting with him, even smiling at him. She enjoyed studying his thick hair, his handsome face, the ways his expression changed from moment to moment.

He wasn’t a waiter by trade, that she could tell. He wasn’t comfortable carrying a tray and she sensed it took effort for him to meander among “the beautiful people”. Yet at the same time he looked comfortable in his own body, giving off the feeling, perhaps, that he could do this job capably but he’d rather be sailing. Because this morning on that catamaran, he’d looked like a man who knew boats and the water. His hair had been a bit messier then, windblown, and his muscular arms implied he was used to hoisting sails. Again, he struck her like a swarthy man of the sea, and she wanted to get in the pirate’s pants.

Just then, another waiter passed by with a tray of shrimp hors d’oeuvres, so Payton plucked one up. As she lifted it to her mouth, her pirate waiter looked her way and she found herself curling her tongue sensually around the shrimp, sucking it into her mouth so sexually that the act made her pussy spasm. She kept her eyes on him the whole time, pleased when
his
blazed with lust. And amused when he then bumped into an older gentleman and nearly spilled fifteen glasses of wine on the guy. The old man scowled and she saw her waiter’s mouth move to say,
Sorry
, and when he looked back at her, she couldn’t help smiling.

He smiled back, just slightly, flirtatiously, as he used his free hand to point at her and mouth the words,
Your fault
.

Without missing a beat, she moved her lips in reply, saying,
Who, me?
while pointing one well-manicured finger to her chest—then letting her fingertip glide ever so sensuously down the curve of her breast to the fabric covering it, after which she eased it delicately along the dress’s edge to the valley between the two mounds.

His mouth hung open like a man who was drunk—drunk on her, she hoped.

And then she spun on her heels and walked away, from the party, from the action, from him. She wasn’t sure why—maybe it was some sort of instinctive playing hard to get. Or maybe she needed to be a little more intoxicated to really follow through on her desires. She wanted desperately to seduce him. To have him. Hard. Rough. She wanted to be dirty for him, as dirty as she’d felt this morning. But again, without that distance between them, it was more challenging. Wanting it and really doing it were two different things.

She found herself walking back over the narrow starboard deck that edged the large cabin, seeking privacy, quiet. She need to think. To drink the rest of her wine. To gather her courage.

It was just as she reached the stern, having stopped to lean against the railing and look out over the marina and the dark sea beyond, that she heard a noise—a…moan.

And it was definitely a sexual moan—someone was fooling around out here.

Payton took a deep breath and turned very quietly—careful not to let her heels click on the polished wood beneath them—and stared into the darkness now permeating this part of the yacht.

She bit her lip, her nipples tightening instantly when she spotted Daniel and the brunette waitress he’d admired tangled together in what she knew to be a small supply closet, the door open. And—oh God, they were doing it, really fucking. Daniel’s pants remained up, but clearly parted in front, and he moved in hard, rhythmic jolts against the woman, whose skirt was around her hips now, her bare legs clutched tight to Daniel’s thighs. His hands squeezed her ass and she let out a hard, hot breath with every thrust he delivered.

Payton’s pussy wept madly as she watched, mesmerized. She’d never thought of Daniel like this before—hard, sexual. She was so accustomed to seeing him in a starched white shirt, crisp and obedient, ready to serve. Now his hands on the waitress’s ass looked bigger, more masculine, than she’d ever noticed. His breath came labored—he grunted his pleasure in a way that made Payton’s cunt even wetter.

Now that she really looked at him, she realized he was even more handsome than she’d ever noticed. Sex could do that to a man, she’d observed—in life, in movies. It could turn him unreasonably ugly or unbearably hot. Daniel, at the moment, looked unbearably hot, and judging from the sounds coming from his partner, he knew how to use his cock.

What did it look like? How big? How long? Payton’s heart beat too fast, every pore of her body singed with lust, as she thought of her servant in a way she’d never imagined. Even as Daniel let go of the woman’s ass to reach up and rip open her blouse in a rush, then deftly undo the snap of her bra to bring a pair of voluminous round breasts into view, Payton found herself focusing again on his face, wrenched in passion.

Why had she never noticed there was a bit of Jude Law about him?

“Oh,
oh
,” the waitress began to sob softly, and Payton knew the woman was about to come. Payton’s entire nether region surged in response and anticipation. God,
she
wanted to come too. She’d been waiting all day, after all, and to watch another woman being fucked right now was both thrilling and maddening.

Then, “Yes, now, yes,” the brunette whispered in the dark, and as she undulated in Daniel’s arms, Payton could almost feel the other woman’s orgasm cascading through
her
, as well.
Almost
. And that was the painful part.

Walk away.
That’s what she should do. But somehow she couldn’t. Because she was too excited by this. She wanted to watch Daniel fuck some more—she also wanted to watch him climax.

And seeing his partner climax had clearly aroused Daniel as much as it had Payton since he then began to fuck her even harder, harder, his every drive nailing the brunette to the wall, making her breasts jiggle, making her grunt with the impact. Payton had never witnessed anything so raw, so intensely open and human—and between strangers too.

And as Daniel rammed his cock into the girl in still more hard, violent strokes, finally letting out an enormous groan that told Payton he was coming now as well, she knew she could do this. She could seduce her pirate waiter. She could be this raw, this personal, this hot—she could let out every inhibition, finally—even if he
was
a stranger.

In fact, she suddenly understood, maybe that made it better. Because it meant there was nothing to lose. Nothing to lose but the chance to finally,
finally
let out the dirty, lusty girl inside her and reach stunning ecstasy with a super-hot guy.

But you have to get out of here—now—before Daniel sees you.
And so, with that thought, before Daniel’s soft sounds of pleasure could end and leave the rear of the boat in silence, Payton scampered quietly away on her toes so her heels wouldn’t make any noise.

After a clean getaway and a sigh of relief, however, she stopped along the starboard side of the vessel before reentering the party area on the bow, suddenly aware that her panties were absolutely soaked! Uncomfortably so. God, from watching
Daniel
! It was still so shocking—and had gotten her even hotter than she’d realized. And since Payton was not a girl who suffered discomfort lightly, she looked around, made sure she was alone, then reached up under her dress and impetuously took them off.

Ah, yes, that was better—and the sea breeze made the flesh between her legs tingle anew. Peering around her again to ensure she remained unwatched, she wadded the black lace thong into a ball and flung it overboard.

And then she rushed back to the hustle and bustle of the party, much more anxious to get there than she’d been upon first leaving her cabin tonight. She was ready to see her pirate waiter again. Ready to get what the waitress had gotten. Her body pulsed and ached wildly.

When their eyes met across the deck, she wondered if it was possible for him to see how hard her heart beat, to sense that her cunt oozed hot and sweet for him. She sensually bit her bottom lip, lowered her chin. Her breasts heaved in the fabric cups that held them as she lifted one finger and beckoned him to her.

Still carrying a tray of wine, he made a beeline toward her, one lock of hair falling waywardly over his forehead, his eyes still glassy with lust.

“Tell me your name,” she said when he reached her. Her voice came out soft, raspy, without planning. Her throat felt constricted with the measure of her desire.