by Tara Sivec
I open my mouth to argue and she holds her hand up to silence me.
“I know; I get it. It was just the two of you for a really long time and you’re not the kind of person who can sit back and watch her father fail,” she continues. “But, hon, you can’t go down with him. You gave up everything for him after college when he begged you not to move away, and you’re still doing it. You’re still sacrificing your happiness for him. You’ve been working yourself to the bone for six months, ever since the first subpoena was delivered to his office. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you take work home every night and you forgot how to live. I can’t sit back and watch you do this to yourself anymore. You need to sit him down and talk to him, or I will.”
Everything Brooke says to me is true, yet every word she says breaks my heart into a million pieces. I did give up my dreams after college for my father. I did stop living six months ago when his company started falling apart at the seams. And he hasn’t even noticed or cared.
“Alright, that’s enough heart-to-heart for one evening,” she declares, lifting her wine glass to her lips and finishing off the rest of it. “I’ve been watching Mr. Hottie Pants over there stare at you all night when you weren’t looking and, sweet mother of God, the looks he’s been giving you were enough to make me have an orgasm. Get over there and get yourself some.”
The tears that had been prickling the back of my eyes just seconds ago immediately disappear, and I let out a quiet laugh. I subtly glance back over my shoulder, pretending like I’m looking out at the ocean, even though it’s pitch black and I can’t see anything. Declan has his head down and is busy washing drink glasses in the sink attached to the bar. Instead of the navy blue polo he had on earlier, tonight all of the crew changed into white polos. The white cotton material brings out the tanned skin of his muscular arms and, once again, I’m stuck in a lust-filled daze staring at the full-sleeve tattoo on his arm, wanting to run my hand over it and feel his muscles tighten under my fingers.
Maybe Brooke is right. I just need to relax and have some fun. I’m not the kind of woman to have a one-night-stand, though. Maybe some harmless flirting is just what I need to forget about the stress of the last six months and remember what it’s like to have some fun and live a little.
“I think maybe I’ll go get another glass of wine,” I muse, turning my head back around to wink at Brooke and grab my empty glass from the table.
Her entire face lights up with a huge smile as I push my chair back and smooth the skirt of my sundress down with my free hand.
“Go get ’em, tiger!” she whispers, slapping my ass when I turn away from the table, making me let out a little yelp. “And find out where that other hot guy, Ben, disappeared to!”
I shoot her a dirty look over my shoulder and she just grins at me.
Declan is still busy washing glasses and doesn’t notice me walking up to the bar, so I move around to the back and reach for the bottle of Pinot Grigio he uncorked for me earlier that’s still sitting on top. As soon as my hand wraps around the neck of the bottle, it’s quickly snatched away from me.
“What are you doing?” Declan asks in a low voice, so close to my ear that I realize he’s standing right next to me. I can feel the heat from his body right through the thin material of my sundress.
“I, uh…getting more wine?” I ask in confusion, holding up my empty glass between us, pretending like the close proximity of his body to mine isn’t affecting me in the least.
He stares down at me with a frown, and all I can do is focus on his lips and wonder what they’d feel like against my skin. He smells like soap and a subtle hint of spicy cologne, making my mouth so dry that I have to wet my lips with my tongue. His eyes flash down to the movement of my tongue swiping across my bottom lip and I watch the green orbs darken, making me want to roar with the newfound feminine power I didn’t even know I had.
“It’s not your job to pour your own wine, princess.”
Even though the rough, gravelly sound of his voice makes me tingle in all the right places, his words quickly douse the fire and make me take a step back from him in irritation.
He grabs the empty wine glass out of my hand and sets it on top of the bar, turning his body away from me to refill it. Without looking at me, he slides the glass across the bar top and gives me his back as he recorks the bottle and sets it aside.
His words sting in a way that never has from anyone else before and it pisses me off. I know I’ve had a privileged life that most people dream of. I know from the outside looking in, it seems like we have it all and don’t have a care in the world. But I’ve never taken anything for granted. I’ve never acted like a princess or gotten something that I didn’t work my ass off for. And this man, who doesn’t even know me, has no right to judge me.
Angrily grabbing the glass, I tip it back and down the entire thing, wishing I had the balls to tell him to go to hell. Too bad he’s still the hottest damn guy I’ve ever seen, and even his poor judgment isn’t enough to make me completely immune to him. I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, and Declan McGillis just moved to the top of my to-do-list.
That thought makes a little giggle bubble up and out of my mouth and I realize I might have had a little too much wine, a little too quickly, and it’s pathetic I’m such a lightweight.
“Uuuugghhh I’m so BORED. Hey, waiter! I need a refill over here!” Arianna shouts from the table, holding her empty glass up in the air and shaking it, making the ice cubes tinkle against the glass.
My anger with Declan quickly dissipates when I hear him sigh. No wonder he was so quick to judge me. Look at the people I’m surrounded by.
“Declan!” I yell over to Arianna as I see him start to make her another drink out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” she replies in irritation, her eyes narrowing as they stare me down.
“Dec-lan,” I repeat, sounding out his name slowly. “His name is Declan, not waiter.”
She rolls her eyes and slams her glass down on the table. “Jeez, mega-bitch much?”
“Jeez, mega-stick-up-your-ass much?” I fire back, which earns me a wide-eyed, jaw-dropping laugh from Brooke when she turns around to give me a thumbs up.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment that I stooped to Arianna’s level. I never engage in a verbal smackdown with her because it’s pointless, and I refuse to play her childish games. When I hear a soft chuckle come from Declan, my head whips in his direction and I suddenly feel better about sticking up for myself. He quickly wipes the amused smile from his face and clears his throat, turning back to finish slicing a lime for Arianna’s vodka and soda.
Brooke has been trying to get me to tell Arianna off for a year and I’ve never had the balls to do it. Some liquid courage and the knowledge that Declan was standing right here witnessing how my stepsister treats me suddenly gave me some much needed bravery. I didn’t want him to think I let Arianna walk all over me, even if it were true. For some reason I can’t explain, I didn’t want Declan to think I was weak.
Arianna shoots daggers at me for all of three seconds, and then pulls out her cell phone and starts taking stupid, duck-face selfies.
“You wouldn’t happen to have an ice pick back there, would you?” I ask Declan, holding my glass out to him when I see he already has the cork back off the bottle anticipating my need for a refill.
“Yeah, why?” he replies, emptying the bottle into my glass before chucking it into a garbage can under the bar.
“I’d like to stab her in the back of the skull with it,” I tell him casually as I bring the glass up to my mouth.
He doesn’t hide his amusement this time, his quiet laugh tipping the corners of his mouth up into a smile that makes the dimples pop out in his cheeks.
Shit. Dimples. I’m definitely having a quick fling with this guy. No woman can resist dimples.
I move out from around the bar before I do something stupid, like lean in and lick his dimples right in front of Brooke and
my evil stepsister.
He watches me go without saying a word. His piercing stare starts up that damn swarm of butterflies in my stomach all over again, as well as a tingling between my legs that makes walking back to my seat without rubbing my thighs together less than easy. I lift up my glass of wine to toast him as I walk backwards to the table.
“Thanks for the wine, Deck. Keep that ice pick handy for me, would ya?”
He grins at me before I turn around and take my seat next to Brooke.
“Soooooo, tell me everything. I tried to hear what was going on, but Malibu Barbie over there wouldn’t shut up about her tits while you were gone,” Brooke complains, pointing her thumb over her shoulder in Arianna’s direction, who is still holding her phone above her head trying to get the perfect angle for a selfie. “Also, nice work shutting her up. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
With a big grin, I take a deep breath and blurt out a reply before I lose my nerve.
“I think I’m gonna need some pointers on how to have a vacation fling.”
Brooke lets out a loud whoop and I quickly smack my hand against her mouth while I laugh at her excitement, realizing this is the first time in months I’ve actually smiled and have been excited about something.
Declan McGillis just might be the cure to all my problems.
CHAPTER 5
Declan
After cleaning up the bar area and grabbing Eddie to do our nightly check, making sure everything on the exterior is secure—all pillows and cushions put away, lounge chairs folded up, Jacuzzi covered, and pick up any other messes the guests have made—I check my watch and realize it’s after one in the morning. I’m exhausted, I’m irritated, and all I want to do is go to bed and try to forget about the woman who made me laugh tonight.
Grabbing the glassware and leftover liquor from where I left it on a tray on the bar, I head inside the ship and through the main salon, wanting nothing more than to fall into my tiny bunk, close my eyes and will away the fucking hard-on I’ve had since Mackenzie told that bitch off when she called me waiter. Never, in all my thirty-two years, has the sound of my own name out of a woman’s mouth ever made me this hard. I’ve never liked nicknames, but just hearing the soft way she called me Deck when she lifted her wine glass in a toast, and how she made me smile all over again when she brought up the ice pick, made me want to round the bar, yank her against me and see if her lips were as soft as they looked.
I’ve lost my Goddamn mind over a woman I just met and I don’t like it. As I head down the narrow stairs to the galley, the sound of pots and pans clanging to the floor make me groan, realizing I’m going to have to deal with Marcel and his fucking attitude before I can even think of trying to get Mackenzie Armstrong and the way she said my name out of my head.
Walking through the steward’s pantry, I set the tray of glasses and extra bottles of alcohol down on the counter next to the sink, cursing to myself when I hear another loud crash of pans hit the floor.
“Marcel, you really need to calm your shit. I know the guests were assholes tonight, but—”
I stop short when I get to the doorway of the galley and realize it wasn’t Marcel making all that noise in here. Ben stands in the middle of a pile of pots and pans, his body in between the thighs of a woman he’s currently got perched up on the counter in front of him. Ben is looking at me over his shoulder with a big grin on his face that doesn’t show an ounce of embarrassment at being caught, and the woman lifts one arm from around his shoulders to give me a wave, not even bothering to unwrap her legs from around Ben’s waist.
“Declan, Brooke, Brooke, Declan,” Ben introduces easily, his hands still resting on the woman’s bare thighs where he pushed the skirt of her dress up during their make-out session.
“I know who she is,” I reply, gritting my teeth, wondering why in the hell I have a best friend who doesn’t know the first thing about following rules.
This morning he was fucking a stew, and tonight he’s well on his way to fucking a guest. And not just any guest, the best friend of Mackenzie. One look at this woman, with her face flushed and her hair all disheveled, and I’m right back to thinking about her. Wondering if her mouth would be red and swollen after I tasted her, wondering if the skin of her chest would flush with desire when I touched her, wondering how my name would sound if she moaned it…
“Sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be down here, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to come looking for this guy,” Brooke informs me, her body still wrapped around Ben, neither one of them making any move to leave the galley.
“Glad you found me, baby,” Ben tells her with a wink, making me roll my eyes. “Hey, didn’t you say your friend couldn’t sleep and that’s why you came looking for me?”
Ben looks back over his shoulder at me and gives me a lecherous smile that makes me want to pick up one of the pans from the floor by his feet and smack him over the fucking head with it.
“Why yes, yes I did,” Brooke replies casually. “Mackenzie decided to go for a walk around the deck, and I got bored in that room all by myself. Last time I checked, she was on the right side.”
That’s called starboard, baby,” Ben tells her, turning away from me to run his hands up her thighs until he’s clutching her ass.
“It’s so hot when you talk boat,” Brooke replies. “Tell me more.”
“Port, starboard, stern, bridge…”
Brooke tightens her arms around Ben’s shoulders, giving him encouraging moans when he dips his head and mutters more nautical terms against the skin of her throat.
Thoroughly disgusted with what is happening right in front of me, and hoping to God Brooke isn’t a vindictive woman who will lose her shit when she finds out the kind of man-whore Ben is, I turn away from them to get the hell out of here.
“Hey, Declan!” Brooke calls to me suddenly. “Can you do me a HUGE favor and go make sure Mackenzie gets back to our room okay? This is a pretty big ship and I don’t want her getting lost or anything.”
With my back still to them, I sigh and give a little wave over my shoulder, my feet moving me back through the stew pantry at a clipped pace when I start hearing giggles and moans coming from the galley.
Instead of heading right to my bunk like I know I should, my legs take me in the opposite direction and back up the stairs to the guest quarters. I tell myself the entire way I am absolutely not going in search of Mackenzie. She got a tour of the ship just like everyone else, and if she gets lost, it’s her own damn fault. I’m going upstairs to do one last check and make sure Eddie and I didn’t miss anything, that’s it.
I take my time looking around the stern, jiggling all the cabinet doors to make sure they’re all secure and nothing will fall out of them overnight. By the time I finish and make my way to the starboard side of the ship, I’m positive I’ve wasted enough time and Mackenzie will have found her way back to her room. When I get halfway down the length of the ship, checking the deck for anything that shouldn’t be there, I sense her before I even see her. My feet stop moving and my head slowly comes up to find her standing against the railing, looking out at the water.
She’s still wearing the same light blue strapless dress she had on at dinner. With the full moon shining brightly overhead, I see the light ocean breeze moving strands of her long, dark hair around her face and gently rustling the short skirt around her thighs, lifting it up until I can see so much of one smooth upper thigh that my mouth waters to run my hands over it.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I stand here staring at her looking so beautiful in the moonlight that it takes my breath away. I should turn around, walk back inside, go to my bunk and forget I ever saw her.
I know that’s what I should do, but it’s not what I want to do and it pisses me off. I can still hear her saying my name earlier. When something makes her turn her head in my direction, the surprised look on her face turns into a slow smile, and all of the blood in my body shoots right to my dick. My feet that felt like
cement blocks stuck to the deck floor just seconds ago start moving me towards her. When she sees me coming, she turns her body to face me fully, one hand clutching a handful of her hair to stop it from blowing in her face, and the other holding tightly to the railing. I move faster, stalking towards her until I see her eyes widen in shock.
I can’t return her smile, I can’t say a word, all I can do is charge her like an animal, my hands clenched into fists at my sides and my dick so painfully hard in my shorts all I can think about is getting some fucking relief.
She opens her mouth when I’m a foot away.
“What are you—”
I close the distance in record time, grab her face with my hands, bend my knees, dip my head and claim those full, gorgeous pink lips. Her mouth immediately opens for me, gasping, and I take the opportunity to dart my tongue inside. As soon as it touches hers, a shock of need shoots right through my body. I try to control myself, but when the shock leaves her and she immediately swirls her tongue around mine, kissing me back and moaning into my mouth, I’m done for.
My hands drop from her face and I wrap my arms around her waist, yanking her roughly against my body as we both battle to deepen the kiss. Our tongues push and pull against each other, our heads tilt from side to side to get the best angle, and before I know it, I’m turning her around and pushing her roughly into the wall of the ship.
Her hands fist into my hair and clench tightly as I bend my knees and push myself between her thighs. She moans into my mouth again when I push up, and slide my aching cock against her as she lifts one leg and hooks it around the back of mine, pulling me tightly to her. I kiss her harder, deeper, with more urgency than I’ve ever felt with any other woman. My hips thrust against her in the same rhythm as my tongue pushing in and out of her mouth, and I feel like a fucking fifteen-year-old who could come in his pants at any second.
