“No.” I cupped my center. I wished I could’ve said that I didn’t enjoy the slick feel of it against my hand, but then I would’ve been lying.
“Move your fingers, please,” he whimpered. He actually one hundred percent whined.
Maybe he’s not playing a game? Or maybe this is the role he’s assuming, the dominated alpha. I can never be too sure.
“Can you hand me my robe?” I asked. “It’s behind you.”
“I know where it is.”
“Then get off of your knees and get it. . .please.”
“I want to fuck you right now.” He rose and towered over me with closed fists. “Game over. Let me just enter you right here. No one has to know. It could be our little secret and then tomorrow or another day, you and I will start all over again.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
He combed shaking fingers through his brown waves. “Sex. Me and you. I’m just asking for a private session.”
“A private session?” I smirked. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t count the private session as a win.”
“Damn you, I’m not playing right now.” His voice rose.
I flinched.
“I’m sorry.” He edged away and paced back and forth, his bulge slicing the space in front of him.
“Are you okay?” I giggled.
He murmured something incomprehensible.
“I guess I’ll get my robe myself.” I got off of the bench.
He ceased with pacing and watched me stroll over to it. “I’ll write you a check and even draw a contract that says this doesn’t count.”
“That’s silly.”
“It is not silly.”
I slipped the robe on and closed it. “I think you’re trying to trick me.”
“Trust me when I say this. I want to do a lot of things to you right now, but tricking you is not one of them.”
“Well then let this be a lesson to you.” I wagged my finger at him. “When you lie so much and break so many hearts in your path, don’t blame me for choosing to never believe you or even give you exactly what we both want.”
“What we both want?” He stared me deep in my eyes. “So you want this dick inside of you, my wicked Dawn?”
“I would if you were something else.”
“What?”
“A man I could love.”
“But you can’t?”
“No.”
“Because I’m not Prince Charming?”
“Yes.” I tied my robe’s belt into a bow. “Because you’re the asshole that breaks Cinderella’s heart.”
“I’m not interested in breaking your heart.”
“But you do hope to break me?”
Sighing, he placed his hands inside of those fitting shorts and adjusted himself probably so his big length wouldn’t tear through the fabric.
“Are you going to ignore my question?” I asked.
“I forgot it.” He frowned.
“Do you hope to break me, Freddy?”
“Do you have any idea that when you say my nickname my whole body goes crazy? It’s like an explosion inside of my groin.”
I sucked my teeth and walked away. “You’re avoiding the question.”
“Then let me answer it, instead of running away.”
I stopped, but kept my back to him. “Go ahead.”
“Yes. I long to break you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we ate dinner last night. You’re too sure of yourself and me. Additionally, you make me feel bad about who I am. I don’t like second-guessing myself.”
I stared off at the ocean as the sky darkened over us. “That wasn’t my intention. I was just stating the truth as I saw it.”
“Doesn’t matter. You make me feel like a lazy bastard whether you are talking or not, even when I saw you reading those books on the beach I felt dumb.” His voice came closer to me and then I knew he was right behind me. He captured my waist and pressed his hardness against the curve of my behind. “So you ask, if I hope to break you. Hell fucking yes. I want to be lost in you for several hours. I want to destroy you until you can’t see or think about anything else but me. I have to command your body and capture your soul.”
“That’s a lot,” I muttered. “Why not just hope to fuck me hard?”
“Because fucking you would never be enough. If I break you, then I’ll know that you’re not as smart as you think, I’ll know that you were wrong the whole time.”
“Hmm.” I left the top deck shook, but more determined than ever to avoid his advances. “Then may the better man or woman win.”
Chapter 5
Frederick
I probably shouldn't have told her the truth.
I wasn't sure if admitting that I wanted to break her would help me have sex with Dawn. But as the rest of the date continued, she didn't act differently, just her usual sarcastic humor with a couple of jibes at my masculinity whenever she could get one in. I didn't care. The whole time she attempted to show me her assertiveness she wore a gown I bought her. It was a gold strapless lace that formed tight all the way to the middle of her thighs and then flared out like a mermaid's tail.
“And now I'm Ariel, your little mermaid?” she'd said as she left the dressing room.
I placed my finger against my forehead. “Wait, don't tell me. What was the hero's name? Prince Eric.”
“I have no idea.”
“Definitely, Prince Eric.” I captured her hand and enjoyed the warmth of her skin. “The captain says we have fifteen minutes before we dock for dinner.”
“Where will we be eating at in Miami?”
“We're not going back to Miami. We're going to Cuba.”
“Cuba? Have you lost your mind? Are you talking about the country? I thought there were restrictions for Americans to sail there?”
“Yes. I've heard of some, but remember, I'm not American. For everyone else in the world, it's perfectly fine to sail off to Cuba. I figured it would be a good idea since it's only forty five minutes away from Miami on a boat.”
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“My brother’s and my citizenship is with Austria, but for as long as I can remember, I lived everywhere. My mom was from Spain so we visited there a lot too.” I guided her outside. “Let me take you on a tour to pass some time.”
“Okay.” She looked around. “How many levels does your yacht have?”
“Four. There's a lower deck with a swimming platform, four bedrooms, a suite that my brother and I fight over, engine room and further away are the crew's living space.”
“Yikes. That's just the lower deck?”
“Do you want to know what’s on the main and upper deck? You've already been on the sun deck.”
She twisted her lips. “Tell me the truth. Is this your thing? Do you usually take a girl on a tour?” She did air quotes for tour.
“I may have taken a few women on one or two tours.”
“Typical.” She stuck her tongue at me. “I'd rather not have the traditional impress-the-chick-I'm-hoping-to-bang tour. Let's just sit somewhere and have a glass of wine. Is that okay?”