Bossy (35 page)

“Rule number two, when you catch a guy at his most vulnerable, you do
not
make fun of him.” I’ve never really done this before, but I’m getting into this rules and discipline shit.

Smack
.

She’s not squirming as much as she was, I can feel her body starting to submit. “You’re not liking this, are you?” I laugh and bring my hand down again, loving the soft give of her tender flesh.

Smack
.

“Fuck you... Gavin.” Her breath’s coming heavier, and she’s not struggling at all now.

Seriously? That’s all it takes? I really should’ve done this earlier.

“Oh, Sis. I keep offering, but you keep saying no.”

I smack her again, letting my hand rest on the curve of her ass, right where the line of her panties cuts across her sexy cheek. She actually lets out a soft little moan. My cock never really went down all the way, but now blood’s rushing into it like it’s got a hot date, and suddenly in spite of the shower, I’m rock hard. She has to feel me pressing against her stomach, but she’s suspiciously quiet.

“And rule number three, don’t tease a guy if you’re not gonna go through with it.”

Smack
.

Letting my hand trail along her curve, I slide it in between her legs. I expect her to clamp her legs together, but she doesn’t. She just lies in my lap, breathing heavily. Her panties are soaked. Holy shit. Pushing my fingers against her heat through the thin fabric, I rub gently, making her moan again, louder this time.

“That feel good, babe?” She’s so soft. And I’m so fucking hard.

“I’m not... your babe.” Her protest is half-hearted.

Angie’s writhing on my lap like a cat in heat. My hot little pussy. I knew she had it in her, and I want to rip those panties off and fuck her silly, but any wrong moves and she’ll bolt. So instead, I keep stroking her softly through her wet panties.

Her ass wriggles against my hand, like she’s trying to capture my fingers. She fists the sheets, body tense. Every breath is a quiet moan now as she gets more and more worked up.

I’m just about to risk sliding my hand under the elastic so I can get my skin right on hers when someone knocks on the door. She stiffens, while I try to ignore it. “Sssh, babe.”

The knock comes again. “Mr. Caldwell, Sir?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “What is it?”

“Important message for you, Sir.” The voice is a little squeaky, as if its owner’s voice is still changing.

“Let go of me.” I look down to find Angie looking back up over her shoulder, her tone measured and even. “Let me go.” I can’t read her eyes. Her face is flushed and she doesn’t seem angry, but confused, maybe?

The moment’s ruined anyway, so I let up. She slides quickly out of my lap and wraps the comforter around herself, like she’s suddenly embarrassed to be seen in her underwear. Fuck, innocence isn’t usually my thing, but she’s sexy when she blushes.

“Sir?” Right. The guy at the door.

Angie looks right at me. “Shouldn’t you get that?”

G
avin gets up and adjusts himself to hide the huge bulge in his pants. The memory of it pressing against my stomach while he was spanking me...
spanking
me flashes through my mind and without thinking about it, I put a hand against the spot where it rubbed.

His hands, his cock, the memory of their touch feels branded into my skin. He was in full control. I’d been completely at his mercy, and I’d loved it. But it’s Gavin. Asshole, stepbrother, playboy.
Not my boyfriend
. I don’t want to need him like that. He’d chew up my heart and spit it out. Except I can think that all I want, but it doesn’t make me any less wet.

Crap.

I throw on one of my beach wraps like a robe and go see who’s at the door. Gavin’s standing there looking like raw sex and pissed to be interrupted. Next to him, the steward at the door looks like a kid playing dress up in an oversized sailor suit.

“Good morning, Sir. I sincerely hope I didn’t disturb you,” The steward manages to squeak out.

Gavin snorts. “You did. What do you want?”

The kid swallows. “I was asked by the captain to bring you this message.” He hands over a silver plate with a card on it. “It’s an invitation for you and your lovely fiancée to join Captain Melbourne at his table for dinner tonight.”

My eyes widen at that. At the captain’s table? That sounds fancy, and I mostly brought bikinis and t-shirts. Crap. “Gavin, tell him we can’t—”

“Thank you. Please tell the captain we’d be honored.” Gavin’s reply is silky smooth. He sounds like his dad, all wealth and courtesy. It suits him. But it’s also the wrong answer.

“Gavin—”

The steward continues, “He also asked me to let you know that all arrangements are in place for Sunday, just as you requested.”

“Arrangements?” Gavin runs a hand through his messy hair, sounding as confused as I am.

“Yes, Sir. For...” He trails off, then nods his head in my direction as if I can’t see it. “The arrangements, Sir. At 6:00 PM on Sunday.”

I still don’t think Gavin gets it. I know I don’t, but he nods. “Right. Of course. Tell Captain Melbourne thank you, and that we’ll join him for dinner tonight. At what time?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s at eight, Sir.”

“Excellent. Write yourself a tip for the favor and put it on this room. A hundred bucks.”

The steward’s eyes go wide just like mine do, but to his credit his mouth doesn’t drop open, unlike mine. For all I know, that’s standard tipping fare on a ship like this, but I suspect not. “Thank you, Sir. That’s very generous.”

“Consider it a deposit on leaving a fucking note next time. You got me?” Gavin, apparently done with keeping up appearances, shuts the door in his face and turns to me. “Dinner with the captain, huh?”

“Gavin!” I hiss, clutching my wrap around me. “I don’t have anything to wear. And a hundred bucks in tip?”

“That’s alright. I think you look great in what you’ve got on, to be honest. Unless I can talk you out of it.” He grins, crossing his thick arms over his chest and leaning up against the liquor cabinet.

The heat of my blush rushes to my face, my thoughts suddenly back on being over his knee and his fingers probing my... “I’m serious! I didn’t bring clothes for a fancy dinner. I was figuring on living on buffets and fruity drinks while I lounged by the pool.”

He looks at me curiously, like he doesn’t get the problem. “Alright. So we’ll pick some up then. There’s plenty of shopping on board.”

A couple days ago I was worrying about not having a summer job so I could buy books and gas money. If I could afford designer clothes I wouldn’t have a Charlie’s Chicken application on my desk back home. “Are you insane? I can’t afford to buy new clothes, especially here, where they probably double the prices.”

He laughs. “Probably triple, at least. But, babe. You can afford it.”

I’m sick of his babe shtick, but I let it go because it’s by far not my biggest problem. “Afford it? Did I win the lottery or something?”

He tilts his head and looks at me like I’m an idiot. “No, but your mom did.”

“Okay, for starters, no matter what it says on the ticket,
I’m not my mom.
And also? They’re not even married yet.”

“Close enough. I’ll cover it, and if you feel really guilty, I do accept sexual favors in currency. Come on.”

I follow him back to the bedroom, sputtering in indignation. Facing his suitcase and away from me, he drops his pants, letting them fall to his ankles before he steps out of them. My mouth dries up and my arguments fade. Oh my God, that ass. Tight and dimpled, it’s made for grabbing. The curved end of a tattoo twines down over the right side, and I feel jealous of the needle that got to do it.

He turns his head and catches me watching. “If you’re gonna stare at me like that, I’m going to add it to your tab. I really should get something in return for all this generosity.” The smirk is back. He’s a cocky asshole. I just wish he wasn’t such a good-looking cocky asshole. “You’ll get this one for free,” he quips over his shoulder, “But I’m not going to stand for it for long. Consider yourself warned, babe.” Then he pulls on underwear and pants, and the show’s over.

He must by wearing me down, because instead of getting angry, I actually laugh. It’s possible that there actually is a nice guy under that horn dog act. So just to play with him, I drop my wrap, grab clean clothes and stroll into the bathroom to change. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me anyway, right?

When I come back out, he makes a show of looking me up and down before he opens the door and gestures gallantly. “After you, my lovely fiancée.” I roll my eyes and step past him. At least it wasn’t babe.

“H
oly crap, Gavin. We can’t buy this!” Angie looks at me with those big doe eyes. “Can we?”

Shopping with Angie has been an experience. This is the first girl I’ve been with who I had to drag away from the clearance racks and force to look at the good stuff. Right now, she’s wearing one sexy as hell red Roberto Cavalli dress that hangs off one shoulder and makes her look like a fucking movie star. Standing in front of one of the full length mirrors, she’s lifting the light-as-feather fabric and twisting back and forth like Cinderella, watching herself as if she can’t quite believe it’s true.

The dress costs so much that ruining it by fucking her in it sounds blasphemous, but right now that’s exactly what I want to do. Chase the store clerks out and fuck her silly right over that counter.

I try not to say that part out loud. “Stop worrying, babe. Every eye’s gonna be on you tonight. You look good enough to fuck.” Oh well, I tried.

Angie looks at me in shock, her face darkening with embarrassment. The clerks are professional enough to let it pass with just brief raising of their brows, but I’m sure they’ll be gossiping about it afterwards. I don’t give a fuck. She
does
look that good.

“Gavin!” She’s trying to look mad, but I can tell she’s pleased. At least the part of her that isn’t dying of embarrassment.

I should leave her alone, but she’s cute when she’s flustered. I step up close behind her and put my hands on her hips. “I just love you so much, babe. Just imagine, once we’re married we can do it every day.” That I said loud enough for the sales people to hear, but then I lean in, my mouth right by her ear and whisper, “I’m ready to start tonight, and I have a very,
very
active imagination.”

“Gavin!” Her voice just went up an octave. Even the clerks are having a hard time pretending disinterest. Fuck, she’s so fun to tease.

Show’s over. Any more of this and I will be fucking her in the shop. “We’ll take it. Just pack it up and deliver it to our room, please.” I address the clerks, who nod eagerly, commissions ringing up in their eyes.

“Excellent choice, Sir.”

I turn to Angie. “Want me to come into the changing room with you and help you get off? Get it off, I mean. You know, the dress.”

There’s ice in that gaze, but it was worth it. “No, thank you, Gavin. I’ll manage.”

“Just offering.” I can’t keep the grin off my face, while the salesgirls watch our exchange with interest.

We continue store hopping. Black Rodarte shoes. A Cartier white gold and diamond necklace with orchid shapes that looks fantastic around her graceful neck. We’re just coming out of the Annick Goutal store when she stops me. “Gavin. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“This. How much money are you spending on me? You haven’t let me see the totals, but I know it has to be crazy. We can’t buy all these things.” For a moment she puts her hands on my arm before I glare at her and she pulls back like she’s burned them.

I’m sick of her second guessing me. It’s fun to watch her get so excited, but it’s a pain in the ass to keep reassuring her. “Babe. You’re supposed to be my fiancée. Unlike you, I packed a suit, and it’s the real deal. If we’re going to sit with the captain, I’m not letting you embarrass me in some shit you put together like you wore to that cheap-ass club.”

The expression on her face is like I just slapped her. She goes from anxious and humble to killing me with her eyes. Viciously and painfully. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“It’s been mentioned. But come on, you love it, right?” I wonder if maybe I went a little overboard, because I see hurt behind the fury.

“No. I don’t freaking love it. I can’t believe you.” She raises a finger and points it right at my chest. I’m in deep shit, but she’s fucking gorgeous when she’s angry. “Every once in a while, I start to suspect that there’s a real human being underneath that cocky, arrogant, asshole exterior that you like to show. Then you remind me of who you really are, a spoiled little rich boy who hasn’t had to work for a single thing in his life.”

People are staring. I bet this isn’t great for our reputation as happy soon-to-be-weds on a pleasure cruise before the big event. She’s not done though, advancing until her finger actually jabs right into my chest. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sick of your designer things, your pervy jokes and your daddy’s money. You think you’re so much better than me? This isn’t even yours. You couldn’t hack your own thing so you’re just riding on daddy’s coattails. I’m done.”

She turns her back and storms away, leaving me to stare after her like an idiot. What went wrong? That went way beyond our usual back and forth. I tell her to stop worrying about money, and she throws the one personal thing I’ve shared with her back in my face? Fuck that. I should go after her and settle this, right here, right now, but I’m too pissed. I’ll do something I’ll regret.

Whatever. Maybe she isn’t any different from all those other girls after all. Sugary sweet when she wants to be, and then she turns on a fucking dime as soon as she gets a whiff of something she doesn’t like. Well now I know, but we’re still stuck together.

Fuck. There’s got to be a good bar around here somewhere. A place serving something strong enough to wipe that look of hurt in her eyes from my mind.

W
hy does he have to be such a jerk? I mean, sometimes he’s funny. Even sexy. But then he turns around and says shit like that. Logically I understand he didn’t know the dress I had on that night was the only decent one I own, but to have it rubbed in my face?