Pleasure Cruise Trilogy (Box Set)

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Shit! He’d forgotten the curly blonde was the screamer out of the bunch. His mouth searched for hers, gliding along her chin until she turned to him. He clamped his lips tight over hers, sucking in her yells of pleasure as she seized upon his shaft.

  Almost desperately, he reached around, searching for the next one, the one he’d spray his seed into. Glorious red lips, lush brown waves of hair and deep hazel eyes greeted him. Her luxuriant curves would be the perfect finish to his lust.

  “Ah! No, wait,” she protested as he spun her around toward the wall.

  Vaclar stopped, stunned. Never did he hear those words uttered from a female he was about to fuck. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Denying himself wasn’t exactly something he had practice with.

  “Ah?” He began to glance around, seeing if one of the others was near to finish him off.

  “I’m a virgin and I intend to keep it that way until I marry,” the luscious woman said, telling him something he already knew but seeming pleased with her proclamation. “So you can only fuck my ass.”

  Who was he to argue with that logic?

  She turned her succulent backside to him and he grabbed hold. The way she thrust back, he knew her ass was anything but virginal. It took him easily, the soft cheeks gliding along his cock all the way to the root to cushion his entry. She tightened her muscles around him and grabbed his hand, forcing it between her thighs to the tight bud of her clit.

  “Take it, take it,” she whispered harshly, her tone demanding. “Faster, faster, go deep.”

  Vaclar exploded with the woman still thrusting on his cock. He held still, his body tense as he rode out the wave of his long release. Finally, she too came, panting his name and praising his talents. With a catlike grin, she made her way across the pool, leaving him alone in the bath.

  He glanced around, seeing the sisters were gone. Going to the steps, he asked the last couple of women who trailed out bathing room, “But who is going to bathe me?”

  “Here,” the curly blonde giggled. She tossed up her hand and he felt her sweet power surrounding him. It swept over his flesh, cleaning him better than water ever could. The only problem was, when it was done, he carried the lavender scent of her flesh.

  “Let’s just hope I don’t run into Talisgon,” Vaclar mumbled. Now sated, he hurried to go back to the scroll. The Powers That Be should’ve been done with it by now.

  Reaching the records room, he saw he was right. The scroll was there, just where ole Bog-man had left it the first time. Quickly unrolling it, he ran his hand down the page, stopping as he found a name that sounded vaguely interesting.

  “Ah, here we go. Keoni and Annette’s cousin Christy. Perfect. It’ll be a family affair. And if something goes wrong, I’ll only have to wipe the minds of one human family, not two.” Vaclar was only half joking. Closing his eyes, he saw the unlikely match clearly. “Ah, a fishing boat. I think it’s time to call in another favor. Good thing I have that love sonnet the god of the sea wrote back in the Renaissance. I’m sure he won’t want that published in the next Powers That Be in-house memo.” Then, chuckling, he waxed poetically, “Oh, sweet tentacles, sweet suction cups to my heart. I dream of inky depths sprayed with your bittersweet poisons.”

  The worst part? The sonnet was for a human lady, not an octopus. She had not been wooed.

  In just a few short minutes his work would be done. The rest would be up to the couples. He only hoped the supernatural males were as horny as rumors said they were.

  * * *

  This was the life.

  Keoni Finau closed his eyes, happy not to have any customers on his boat for once. He loved the sea, loved being a charter fisherman who moonlighted as a tour guide in the busy tourist season, but after a long run of novice fishermen and inexperienced businessmen trying to show off for their fellow travelers, he was ready to be alone on the waves in his prized possession—The Obsidian Lady. A man could get lost in the middle of the wide ocean if he wanted to. Today, Keoni definitely wanted to.

  Taking a long pull of the cold bottle of beer, he sighed, his thoughts running to the hot little tourist who had managed to make his dick hard every time she frowned at him. Since all she did was frown at him, his cock was pretty much erect every time he was around her. Thankfully, he’d finally found some peace and quiet, setting down anchor out a ways from the shore so he could ensure he would not have to look at her one more second.

  The fishing rod in his hand bobbed with the motion of the waves lapping the sides of the luxury fishing vessel. Nothing was around for miles. Just him and the other creatures of the sea. Keoni closed his eyes, dozing in the sun as the smell of the salty sea air washed over him.

  He’d grown up in the ocean and on the islands of Hawaii, but now lived in Key West, running charters with his boat. Starting his own business had been the smartest move he’d ever made. Someday, when he saved enough money, he planned to buy several more boats and start a fleet of them back home in the islands.

  Mm, someday, but not today. Today he was just going to float and fish and get another beer.

  “Ahhh!”

  The loud feminine scream was followed by a great big splash. Keoni opened his eyes, springing into action. For a moment, in his relaxed mind, he thought it was one of his customers going overboard, until he remembered he had no customers. He glanced around. Not a single boat marred the perfect stretch of endless sea. Hearing a sputtering, he walked along the edge of his boat, half expecting to see a mermaid.

  A woman struggled in the water, her arms flapping wildly as she gasped for air. Not just any woman.

  It was her!

  “You!” he shouted, staring down at her as her large breasts bobbed in the water, scantily clad in what looked to be pink lace. A bra? What the hell was she doing, half naked, way out here? He grinned and suggestively lifted his brows. “Who’s stalking whom, sweet cheeks?”

  Her wide, olive green eyes met his and he stiffened. A long, wet stream of dark brown locks followed her. She looked terrified, her arms flailing to keep her body above water. If a person wasn’t used to swimming in ocean water, it could be quite a challenge. He couldn’t count how many scuba passengers thought since they owned a swimming pool back home, they could swim just fine and didn’t need a life jacket. Those people only lasted about two minutes in the ocean before they were back on the boat. Saltwater wasn’t like fresh chlorine.

  The woman flailed her arms, not making much progress on her way to the boat. Since he wore no shirt, there was nothing to throw aside as he dove into the cool water. He surfaced next to her, slipping his arm under hers.

  Keoni instantly noted how slender she felt beneath the darker water, almost too slender to have such luscious breasts. The water didn’t frighten him as it did her. In fact, to him the sea held as little mystery as land did. His father’s people lived both on land and in the ocean. They were sea people, ocean walkers, or more commonly known as merfolk. No, they didn’t grow tails or have fins, but they could breathe water and navigate the ocean as easily as walking on land. Their vision cut through water as if it were no more than air. They were drawn to the water, understood it, loved it as it loved and cared for them.

  As he swam with the woman toward his boat, he felt the soft globe of her breast against the back of his hand. Keoni suppressed a grin. A breast had slipped out of her lacy bra and now floated along the water’s surface. His cock instantly hardened. One of the effects of being in the ocean was a headier sense of emotion. Passions were quick to stir, as was anger. In the sea, his moods shifted as fast as the changing tides.

  “H-help,” she stuttered belatedly. “F-face in the water. Smiling face… A man. He winked at me.”

  “I’ve got you,” Keoni soothed, wondering if one of his kind had played a trick on her. The last he knew no other sea people were around this area. “Nothing is in the water but us and some fish. Grab on to the rail and pull yourself up.”

  He got ready to push, but watched as she pulled herself o
nto the side with surprising strength for one so small. She clung to the rail, not making it completely over. Keoni pushed up from the water, easily maneuvering over the side like he’d done thousands of times before.

  “Let me help you,” he said, slipping his hand under her arm. “What are you doing on my boat? Where were you even hiding? I’ve been all over the vessel since setting out this morning.”

  “I wasn’t on your boat,” she said, sounding more stunned than he was. “I was swimming.”

  Suddenly, the boat jerked, like hitting an embankment beneath the ocean floor when he knew there wasn’t one anywhere near where he fished. He was pitched backward, taking her with him. Her soft body landed on his, her naked breast pressing to his chest. He felt the pucker of her nipple against his sensitive skin and inhaled deeply.

  “Are you an ocean walker?” he asked, hopefully. His body heated and he had no intention of letting go too soon. It had been a long time since he’d been with a female of his kind. If she was like him, she too would be aroused. It would explain why she splashed around to get his attention. And who was he to turn down a pretty lady who wanted his attention?

  * * *

  One minute Christy Seabrooke was diving headfirst into the clear ocean from the private dock near her resort and the next thing she knew, it felt as if a hand was pulling her under as she sucked in a mouthful of salty brine and found herself nowhere near the shore. Not only that, the surfer-bum hottie who had been making her stay nearly unbearable was suddenly there, staring down at her. It seemed like wherever she went while on this vacation, she bumped into him. At first, she blew it off to chance. Then she’d flat-out accused him of stalking her.

  Of course, she panicked when she breached the ocean’s surface to find herself stranded near his boat, of all things. Who wouldn’t? Until that moment, her sanity had never been put into question. Well, not in any way that mattered. Her ex-boyfriend said she was crazy because she refused to marry him.

  Yeah right, like she’d marry some chronically unemployed drummer in a band that still played in Mommy’s garage at the age of thirty-four. No. Thank. You. Besides, she didn’t love him and only used him for his tight abs and willing cock. Thanks to medical marvels, casual sex was now socially acceptable—to most, anyway. There were still some puritans out there pushing the Virgin Now movement, but it wasn’t a belief Christy subscribed to. The way she looked at it, the higher powers gave her a healthy sexual appetite for a reason and who was she to throw away such a gift? Besides, it would take a medical miracle to make her a virgin again.

  Feeling warm flesh shift beneath her, she let loose a deep breath. Her limbs shook, her body still in shock over the coldness of the ocean water. As his words sunk in, she frowned. “Ocean walker?”

  “Never mind, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He gave her a lopsided grin and she became aware of his tight, heated body beneath hers. His soft accent reminded her of her trip to Hawaii, as did the look of his features and the beautiful shade of his skin. She’d bet anything he came from there or from some Polynesian island. Stark blue eyes looked at her, as if it was the most normal situation in the world. Brown dreads were pulled back from his face into a thick ponytail bound with a strip of cloth. A trim goatee covered the bottom edge of his chin, framing the squared jawline.

  “What is going on here?” she insisted. He smelled like the ocean. The muscles beneath her were toned, but not too bulky. And then she felt it, the unmistakably thick press of his cock beneath the thin layer of swim trunks between them. She gasped, pushing up from him with an expression of shock. “Look, I’ve worked with magicians who could do some downright wizardly magical stuff, but this is too much. What did you do to me? Why am I here? Did you conjure a piece of ass?”

  “What?” He gave a small laugh, rolling up to a sitting position. His arms rested on his knee. Black tattoo work covered one shoulder and arm, dipping forward on his chest to extend just past his nipple. Where the ink didn’t mark, his skin was left to show through and it was those light spots that created the intricate patterns of the design. Perfectly symmetrical, the design added to her belief of his Polynesian heritage.

  “You heard me,” she said forcefully. “Did you conjure me here to ease your lonely sailor boy…?” Her words trailed off as she gestured to his obvious arousal.

  “Ah, you’re the one half dressed with your tit hanging out.” He laughed.

  Christy made a loud screech of horror, turning her back to him to check her bra. Her breast had fallen out of the top. For a moment she’d forgotten the fact that her swimsuit top had never made it back from the resort’s laundry service. The maid seemed to snag every piece of clothing Christy left on the floor, taking them to be cleaned. Instead of putting her vacation on hold while waiting for the resort to right the mistake, she’d decided to take a swim in her bra and panties. If the resort didn’t appreciate it, they could replace the lost swimsuit. Doing her best to stuff her breast back into the thin lace barrier, she said, “I was swimming at the resort.”

  The man stood when she turned back around. He was taller than she, as he was nearly six-foot-four. His blue and white swim trunks slung low on his trim hips, showing the start of hair running down toward his erection.

  “Can you send me back now?” she asked.

  “You want me to magically transport you to the docks?” He gave a short laugh and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’ve been called a god amongst men, but you flatter me.”

  Christy arched a brow and started to cross her arms. Seeing how his eyes automatically went to her breasts, she dropped them to her sides.

  His voice lowered. “How about you tell me why you stowed away on my boat? If it was to get to know me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to keep sneaking around all week, spying on me and then accusing me of doing it to you when I caught you.”

  She gasped. “I didn’t stow away and I was not spying on you!”

  Nowhere but in my wild, sexy dreams!

  Shut up, head. You’re not helping.

  Christy continued, “I was on the dock, outside the resort. I dove in and the next thing I know, I’m drowning in a sea of crazy. If my nose didn’t burn from the salt, I’d think I was dead.”

  “Wait a minute, what the—?” The man hurried to the side of the boat. “My boat! Shit!”

  He leapt over the side. That’s when Christy noticed they no longer moved. In fact, they were no longer in water.

  “My boat!” the man yelled in frustration. “What the hell? Where did all this sand come from? I was in the middle of nowhere. In water!”

  Christy was slower to climb over the side. The boat looked as if the hands of the gods had just picked it up and sat it down on the banks of an island. The sand, except for where their feet hit, was relatively undisturbed. There were certainly no signs of the boat gouging a path ashore. Old trash, partially buried, littered the beach, leading out to the ocean about ten feet off.

  “If the ship were grounded, wouldn’t there be drag marks?” Christy bent, looking again to be sure she hadn’t missed them.

  “You’d think,” he snapped, walking in circles around his boat as if doing so would give him the answer. “What the hell?”

  “You can quit saying that, it’s not helping,” Christy said, trying to remain calm.

  “Fine.” He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll admit, when you first started rambling about falling into the ocean, I thought you had to be a liar or nuts, but now I see something weird is really going on here. Boats just don’t jump ten feet onto land without help.”

  There were several things she could say to that comment, but she let it go. Instead, she looked around for whoever had left the trash. The beach was empty. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know but I do know these waters don’t look like Key West.” The man walked toward the shore, cupping his hand over his eyes to study the sea. “Honestly, I have no clue. More south, perhaps? Maybe we are dead.”

 
“Don’t say that,” she commanded. “I can’t be dead. I’m too young. I have stuff to do. Lots of stuff. What did you get me into?”

  He arched a brow in her direction before again looking around.

  “Listen, don’t these boats have navigational systems and walkie-talkies? Why don’t you just radio in the cavalry to come and get us?”

  “I have GPS tracking so they can find us, but nothing so we can find us. There’s a radio below deck.”

  “How can you not have something that tells us our position?”

  “It’s a charter boat. I have the latest electric fish finders to show us the topography of the bottom of the ocean and a brand-new stereo and speakers for customers. When I’m out on a job and don’t check in, one of my employees will come out to find us.” Then under his breath, he added, “It’s not like I can afford every gadget under the sun. Not everyone can be rich like you, sweet cheeks.”

  Christy again chose to ignore him. Fighting wouldn’t do them any good. “Then won’t someone come looking for you now?” She glanced over the golden sands. They reflected the sun like tiny diamonds, stretching along the shore for what had to be miles. Inland, the sand turned to an outcropping of stone before disappearing into a lush forest.

  “Not on my day off and not when I forgot to tell everyone I was going.” He cursed again, kicking at the sand. “And they’re definitely not coming to search for us here.”

  Maybe the island they were on was inhabited. If the array of modern litter was any indication, it had to be. The beer bottles were relatively new. She picked one up and read the label. “This is a golden lager from the Bahamas. It says it’s a national brand. I’ve never see it in the United States before, but it could be a specialty order, I guess.”

  He tilted back his head and breathed deeply. “It smells like… How did we end up in this part of the ocean?”

  “I’m telling you, there are magicians who can do this sort of thing. I’ve seen them.” Christy thought of her ex, Brady Carlson, but quickly shook the thought away. The man was just vindictive enough to try a stunt like this—if he could. However, if the man could afford to pay a supernatural to use magical powers, he’d have done so to zap his rock career into existence. Other than that, no one hated her this much. “I have no enemies, so what did you do?”