by Demi Alex
So after his morning meeting with Ramos, he shopped for more dresses. The choices had been limited, so he’d spent over an hour inspecting and touching each dress in the ship’s boutique in order to find the perfect ones. They needed to be sweet but sexy, and totally classy while chic. They needed to be like Charlie.
He ordered flowers to be delivered with coffee and breakfast at a quarter to nine. He instructed the cabin porter to deliver the boxes of dresses he’d finally settled on, each with a pair of pretty panties; he included a handwritten note instructing her to wear the complete ensemble of her choosing. He planned to have a whole month’s worth of Friday night dates in a single evening.
At one minute past nine, his phone vibrated. He looked down at the message on the screen and smiled.
How do I choose? Luv them! Thank you!
He would court the woman, just like his grand-mère used to tell him a woman dreamed of being wooed. Grand-mère always said it took time and effort to gain a woman’s trust. Grand gestures were for show. It was the little things that captured a woman’s affection.
“Remember,” Grand-mère would say, “a lady wants to be cherished and feel secure. She wants to know she can depend on a man to know her heart and to deliver on his promises. You manage to give her mind and heart such gifts, she’ll be your greatest trésor, mon petit pirate.”
Ford had never cared to possess such a treasure before. But Charlie, well, she was worth having. He’d follow his grandmother’s advice and slow things down.
Sex could wait if it meant building a relationship with Charlie. Sneaking around on the ship wasn’t good enough for her. She’d almost slipped through his hands the night before. He wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give her security and cherishment.
They’d be off the ship, alone, in Cozumel on Saturday.
At a quarter to ten, he texted. You ready, baby?
Yes. came her immediate reply.
He rounded the corner and walked to her door. Before he had a chance to knock, it opened and she greeted him with a beautiful smile.
“Thank you,” Charlie said, holding her skirt in each hand and twirling for his approval. “They’re all adorable; I had a hard time choosing which one to wear first.”
“You chose well,” he said, placing his hand on her waist and tugging her into the doorway and against his body as he lowered his head and brushed his mouth over her pink lips. “Good morning, chère.”
“Good morning,” she replied, tilted up her face, and cheerfully gave him her mouth. She let out a soft breath. “Good morning, honey.”
A tightening in his gut had him craving to keep her close. He dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, savoring the moment. She’d used the honey endearment. That was nice. Very nice.
“It is now,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her face. “You’re breathtaking in the morning, chère, absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said in a soft voice. “That’s sweet.”
He kissed the pink on her cheek, lingering and inhaling her addictive scent. “While I’d like to stay like this for a long time, preferably alone and inside your cabin, I don’t want to swim to Cozumel in order to see you tomorrow.” He traced the pretty shape of her lips with his thumb and looked into her eyes. “You have your key?”
“Yes,” she replied, fitting it into his hand.
“Good.” He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her into the corridor. “Need anything from the room?”
“No. I’m ready.” She let the door lock. “Did some morning yoga with Quinn, had two breakfasts, drank tons of coffee, and even managed to get some thoughts typed out for the feature. I’m good to go.”
“Yoga?” He asked as they walked, surprised she’d been up on deck while he was working with Ramos. “You were up that early?”
“Quinn kind of forced me,” she admitted. “But watching the sun rise on the horizon was well worth it. Not to mention the latte he bribed me with.”
“The baristas are pretty kick-ass,” he added, releasing her hand and draping his arm over her shoulders. “Glad you enjoyed the latte.”
“I also enjoyed the coffee and pastries you sent.” She smiled up at him and that gut clenching happened again. “It was very thoughtful of you. Made me feel looked after by a special guy. Also got me to sit down and type some thoughts as I sipped more coffee on the balcony. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, chère.” Score one for him and his grand-mère’s advice. It was the little things. Charlie thought he was a special guy because of coffee.
“So, with the coffee, exercise, and writing already tackled, do you need anything before the workshop?” Ford asked, checking his watch as he started down the staircase. The event was in the theatre. The blindfold required was in his back pocket.
She squeezed his hand, and he stopped on the landing. Glancing back at her, he grinned. “Forgot the e-cig?”
“Actually, no. I’ve thrown it out.” She shrugged and pursed her lips. “Seems like I’ve been presented with a pretty good alternative and don’t have a craving for it. However, I do have a craving for a long, slow, and proper toe-curling kiss.”
He stepped up, wrapped his arm around her waist, and slanted his mouth over hers. Their first official date of the day began.
Chapter Eighteen
A VbC, vanilla but curious, workshop was an intimidating way to start their day. Charlie tightened her fingers in Ford’s hand, and he immediately stopped at the entrance to the theater and kissed her—again.
“I’m not really into whips or chains,” she breathed against his lips.
“No whips or chains, baby.” He grinned, met her gaze, and skimmed his thumb down her cheek, stroking comfort through her antsy body with that simple touch. “Promise. No worries.”
The nerves in her belly settled and warm tingles moved up her spine. Her uneasiness quieted, replaced by eager anticipation, and she decided she’d follow no matter where he led.
“Morning.” The deep masculine voice had her glancing over her shoulder. Tyler lifted his chin in greeting, sidestepped around them, and guided a blushing Grace into the theatre. Charlie had expected to see them here when Ford had announced the nature of the event. After the way in which Tyler had gathered Grace off the stage and made an immediate exit, she could imagine Grace’s night with the man.
“Good-morning,” Emma and Grayson said in unison, surprising Charlie, especially with the hold Grayson had on Emma and the obvious way he’d made sure she’d follow. Grayson wasn’t letting her go.
“Wow. That I wasn’t expecting,” Charlie said, as the obviously coupled professionals strolled past them.
“Things have a way of moving fast on the sea,” Ford said against her hair, kissing the side of her temple and draping his arm around her shoulders. “A cruise, especially a singles cruise, encourages people to admit hidden desires. And there’s a time limit to realize them. So people let their guards down and look for what they want. Relationships grow in fast-forward. I’ve seen it often, and you can quote me on that.”
They walked down the aisle and took two seats in the row their new friends occupied. Despite being together, there were empty spots separating each couple, effectively allowing them the space to be alone. Charlie held Ford’s hand, looked at the stage and waited for the group leader to begin.
“Good-morning, lovers.” Surfer dude Bodhi waved at the audience.
Some participants waved. Others nodded. More returned the morning salutation.
“From the smiles on the beautiful faces looking back at me, I know you’ve all had an eventful and pleasurable night. Some with a sweet kiss on deck, others with a messy tangle between the sheets, but you’re here, bright and early, as couples and a few moresomes. One way or another, you’ve hooked up and have decided to take the next step in your relationship.” He pumped a hand above his head. “Give yourselves a hand for making the choice to attend Submission 101.”
Were they taking the next
step in their relationship? Ford may have sent her breakfast, may have even gone out of his way to buy her pretty dresses, but they, and their so-called relationship, had an expiration date.
She shook her head, negating the thoughts. She was going to let loose and have fun. Fun for at least two-and-a-half days. On Monday, when the ship was back in Miami, she’d deal with her aching heart.
“Contrary to common belief, submission is not about allowing a partner to use you and your body for his or her pleasure. It is about trusting the person you submit to. It is about earning the trust so that your partner or partners submit to you. Trust. It’s a two-way street, my friends.”
From the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Grace stretch and whisper into Tyler’s ear. His large palm smoothed over her hair, and he kissed her temple. Emma and Grayson sat with their backs straight, hands linked in Grayson’s lap and eyes trained on the stage.
Charlie wet her parched lips, wondering what she and Ford looked like to others. Was the expiration date looming over their heads visible to their friends?
“Stop thinking so hard,” Ford said. “It’s a simple workshop, baby.”
That’s all it was. But she already wanted more. When she’d realized Ford knew who she was, knew about her family, doubt had entered her mind about the agreement they’d had regarding their sexual play. But when she’d also realized he had no further agenda, she’d relented to carnal desires and decided she was in the game. Her morning chat with Quinn had solidified her decision. She wanted great sex, needed great sex, and being with Ford guaranteed great sex. It was her heart she worried about.
Then Ford went thoughtful on her, giving her hope that her heart wouldn’t shatter. She didn’t know how to feel. She also wouldn’t choose to walk away.
“We’re going to make this enjoyable,” Bodhi continued. “Trust isn’t meant for only sex. It’s continuous and necessary in building a relationship.”
Shit. Relationship . . . again.
“Submissives, please stand.”
Ford put pressure on her elbow and urged Charlie to her feet. “Please, chère.”
Standing, she joined Emma two seats over from her; then her mouth dropped when Tyler unfolded his long body and stood. She glanced down at Grace, who was tugging on his hand as if asking him to sit and for her to stand instead. He shook his head and remained standing.
Confused, Charlie looked back at Ford who spoke low. “Two-way street.”
“Also contrary to popular myth, it’s the submissive who holds the power. A submissive chooses where to place trust,” Bodhi continued. “By standing, you’re empowering your partner. It is your choice to do so. Trust is yours to share. Power is yours to share. No doubt, it’s a huge responsibility you’re handing to someone else, but it is the Dominant’s place to know what you want, give it to you, and keep you safe in the interim.”
With those words, everyone but Ford faded into the background for Charlie. He’d keep her safe. And he’d already delivered on her wants. She reached back and offered him her hand. He took it.
“Those of you in the back of the room need to come forward for the next step,” Bodhi instructed. “There are small baskets beneath the seats in the first ten rows. Dominants, please take the supplied handcuffs and secure your submissive’s hands at the small of his or her back.”
Ford stood behind her and fit the lightweight toy around her wrists.
“Made of plastic, they serve only as a slight restraint—one that could easily be broken with a tug. They are a reminder. A symbol.”
But Charlie didn’t feel the need to tug. She settled into position, comfortable with the feel of Ford’s fingers at her wrists.
“The handcuffs don’t fit Tyler. He handed Grace the black scarf meant to be used as a blindfold so she could secure his wrists,” Ford said into her ear.
Instantly, Charlie stopped from turning to look at Tyler and Grace and stared up at Ford. “Blindfold?”
“Could you imagine him in pink cuffs?” Ford continued.
“I can’t imagine him as a submissive,” Charlie said, intrigued as to why the big, tough-looking man would volunteer to be one. Tyler stood straight, loomed over Grace, yet his demeanor was accepting and soft. Yes, soft.
“Next, please use the black scarf to cover your sub’s eyes,” Bodhi said. “You accept full responsibility for them and their comfort.”
Ford handed the blindfold in his basket to Grayson, who in turn handed it to Grace. Grayson motioned for Grace to tie it around Tyler’s head quickly, as the large man, his hands tied at his back, had leaned down and was waiting on her.
A pink satin mask appeared in front of Charlie, so she closed her eyes and waited as Ford settled it over her eyes. “You knew?”
“I’ve worked this event before, chère. They change the details, but the concept is the same. I had a good idea we’d need a blindfold. This one matches the flowers on your dress. And besides, you please me in pink.”
As warmth filled her chest at his statement, she made a mental note to wear more pink. She liked pleasing him.
“The last item in your basket is a list,” Bodhi explained. “You’re going on a treasure hunt. First four teams to return with all the items on the list win a tandem parasailing adventure over the crystal-clear waters of Cozumel.”
“We got this one,” she whispered conspiratorially. “You know the ship better than anyone else here.”
She felt, more than heard, his chuckle, and leaned back against his chest. Strong hands closed around her body and his chin rested on her shoulder. He kissed the side of her neck, sending tingles through her. “I’ll try my best.”
Bodhi read off the rules of the hunt and instructed them to collect their loot in the baskets. “On your mark. Get set. Go!”
“Lucky we sat near the aisle,” Ford said, turning her to the right and pasting his body against her back. “Take three steps and turn right. Two steps, then I’ll squeeze gently when you need to step up. We’ll repeat until we’re out of the theatre.”
The most difficult step was the first one, but Charlie managed. She turned right on the third, knowing they were in the aisle.
“Two small steps, then step up,” he reminded.
She took them, and his fingers gently squeezed her hips. She felt for the stair, placed her thankfully non-heeled sandal on it, and continued. “Good girl. Two more.” Squeeze. “That’s it, baby.”
Focusing on the sway of Ford’s hips, which were pressed against her, and the instructions he whispered in her ear, Charlie almost missed the voice calling to them.
He squeezed. “Hold on a second. It’s Grace.”
She stopped, leaned against him, and discovered her hands hung where the denim of his jeans bulged in a hard promise. She moved her fingers and gently felt along his length.
“Don’t,” he warned, placing a handle in her hands and closing her fingers around the plastic. “We will not complete the hunt if you do that. And I’ll be swimming to port behind the ship. Carry the basket.”
She laughed and tapped the plastic container against the backs of her thighs.
“Ford, how do you feel about teaming up?” Grace asked in a quiet voice.
He squeezed Charlie’s hip, and Charlie responded with a nod.
“We’d like that,” he replied.
“Seems like I got the prettiest and smartest Dom on the ship,” Tyler said. “I’m a rather lucky guy to have such a resourceful woman at my back.”
“Looks that way from where I’m standing,” Ford added.
Tyler groaned, and Charlie’s hands itched to drop the basket, remove the mask, and see why. Ford tugged on her bound wrists and told her to settle down.
“I think we should collect these things out of order. Come back to the beginning of the list, especially numbers one and two,” Grace said, her voice stronger and more authoritative than Charlie had heard before. “Let’s start in the middle. I’m thinking most people will start at the beginning or the end and work their
way through. There will be less of a rush for the middle items. It says ‘protection and stripes on deck.’” She paused, and then giggled. “I got it. The pool towels are striped and the group’s staff walks around with protection. Let’s get to work.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ford agreed.
“Told you she was smart,” Tyler said, and Charlie felt a light nudge against her shoulder. “Sorry, darling. That was me. I meant to bump your man. Guess these two have us set beside each other.”
“Makes it easier to maneuver your bulk,” Grace explained. “Now walk. Baby steps, so I can keep up with you.”
Ford angled her hips and tapped his fingers. “Go on, chère. We need to collect pool towels and condoms.”
“Elevator to the starboard side of the pool?” Charlie asked, letting Ford guide her.
“You got it,” he replied, the vibrations from his laughter rolling over her back.
“Doll,” Tyler said, “we’re heading to a wild part of the ship. You up to it?”
“The question is, are you up to it?” Grace shot back.
“Fuck me,” Tyler grumbled. “I’m creating a monster and can’t even enjoy the view.” They all burst out laughing; Tyler pretended to cough with distress. “Seems like we, the innocent, blindfolded folk, need to look out for each other so they don’t take advantage of us.”
“Keep dreaming, big guy,” Grace said, and Charlie felt Tyler being moved away.
Ford squeezed her hips, and Charlie stopped walking. “Good girl,” he said into her ear as he wrapped his arm across her chest and kissed the side of her neck. The elevator sounded its arrival, and Charlie waited for Ford to steer her safely past the exiting passengers and inside. Just before the elevator started its ascent, he returned his lips to her neck. “You’re doing beautifully, chère.”
“Where are my words of encouragement?” Tyler asked.
Whack!
“Fuck,” he growled, and the air around them pulsated with heat. “Can’t wait for my turn, doll.”
“Mmmmm,” was all Charlie heard. She smiled, leaned her head to the side, and allowed a chuckling Ford more access to her neck. He trailed slow, wet kisses up to her jaw, then back down to her collarbone. His fingers caressed the aching undersides of her breasts, and she dropped her head back on his chest as the elevator climbed, happy in the arms of her man.
