by K. Marie
The curtains were never drawn from earlier, so I could see it was still dark out. After coming back to the stateroom to take a shower, we fooled around some more, and I immediately passed out from exhaustion afterward.
“It's midnight,” Garland answered, turning onto his side to face me.
“Are we in Key West yet?” I questioned.
The room was in near darkness, but I could see Garland’s white teeth flashed as he smiled. “Yes, sleepyhead, we’re in Key West,” he confirmed.
“Looks like I weren’t the only sleepyhead,” I teased.
“That’s because you exhaust me, woman,” he told me with a grin.
“The nerve!” I objected, as he pulled me closer to his still naked body. “Is it too late to venture out?” I asked, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Not at all, we can leave whenever you want,” he told me.
“In that case, get some clothes on your gorgeous body, I’d like to leave as soon as possible,” I announced.
When we exited the boat a mere thirty minutes later, I saw that we were docked at a local marina. After walking a short distance down the dock and to a brightly lit parking lot, we approached a black Range Rover that sat idling near the gated entrance. When we reached the car, Garland opened the back-passenger door and signaled for me to climb in. Once inside, I’m surprise to see Joe—the limo driver, behind the wheel with another man who looked vaguely familiar in the passenger seat next to him.
“Nice to see you again, Joe,” I told him.
“You as well, Ms. Camry,” he returned, all formal-like.
My eyes focused on Garland when he climbed in next to me, giving him a puzzled look. “How did your car get here?” I asked suspiciously, wondering if it were stashed away on the boat. The vessel was certainly large enough.
“It was driven here earlier; Joe got a head start,” he answered.
“And who is that?” I asked next, nodding towards the other man.
“That’s Viktor,” he answered, as though it explained everything.
“Is he just decoration?” I questioned sarcastically.
“No, he’s my cousin, and head of my security team,” Garland explained.
I eyed him sharply. “You have a security team? Why do you need security?” I asked in bafflement, surprised.
He gave me an uncertain look. “Because I value my personal safety,” he answered, as though stating the obvious.
I stared at him dumbfounded. I valued my personal safety as well, but I didn’t have so much as a guard-dog to defend me.
Sneaking another peek at Viktor, I finally recognized him as the man who’d been walking with Garland at the nightclub the night we met. He’d also been on the boat last night.
“How often do you have security?” I asked, turning my attention back to Garland.
“I always take precautions, a smart man would,” he answered, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb.
I assumed his answer to mean he’s got round-the-clock security. “You said security team, how many men does that entail?” I questioned.
“I have five men; though not always at once,” he answered.
“The men in black suits?” I quizzed, recalling having seen a couple of men in black suits on the day of his party. I assumed them to be stewards or something.
“Yes,” Garland confirmed.
“I didn’t see them on the boat tonight,” I returned with growing unease.
“You weren’t supposed to see them, but they were there,” he confirmed again.
I eyed him accusingly, remembering our tryst in the theater room earlier. It wasn’t as if the door had been closed; anyone could’ve happened by and witnessed that pornographic scene.
“They weren’t there, Camry, my men respect my privacy at all times,” he assured me; having accurately read my thoughts.
Even still, his words weren’t that reassuring. I didn’t know whether to be peeved over him not telling me, or to be creeped-out by the entire thing in general. It was a sober reminder that I knew nothing about the man sitting next to me.
“Why didn’t you have security when you dropped me off or picked me up from my hotel today?” I pressed, thinking it somewhat odd. Why was I only now being made aware that he had bodyguards?
Garland studied me warily, having picked-up on my unease. “Because I didn’t want to chance scaring you off,” he told me.
I blinked, taken aback by his honesty. He’d probably been afraid of me reacting exactly the way I was now.
“I know it can be a bit unsettling for the average person, but this is my world, Camry, a necessary evil. I’m sensing it might be a problem for you,” he said, caressing my hand as if in consolation. “I assure you, it's nothing to worry over.”
Nothing to worry over? Being with a man who required five bodyguards seemed like something one should definitely worry over.
But was it a problem for me? I couldn’t say yes definitively. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all,” I told him, turning my hand over to clasp his.
Having bodyguards wasn’t normal; not in my world. But I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
Just then, Garland’s phone began vibrating in his pocket. “Drakos, I hope you have more useful information,” he said in a brusque greeting to the person on the other end.
I sat listening to a different Garland speak to someone who was obviously in the hot-seat. “What’s the damage? How was it breeched?” Garland asked, firing off questions one after the other.
He cursed under his breath, and I wondered if he realized his accent sounded more pronounced when he was annoyed. “Handle it Drakos, this needs to be contained as much as possible. I don’t want this shit getting leaked,” he ordered, then ended the call without saying good-bye.
Quiet filled the space as Garland sat looking grim and lost in thought, but he glanced over at me when I squeezed our still joined hands in concern.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, mindful of our audience.
His dark brows lifted in surprise, as though the thought of him not being okay never crossed his mind. “I’m sitting next to you, Camry, so I’m doing better than okay,” he said smoothly, charm on full-blast.
And I smiled like the sucker that I am, succumbing. “So, do the ‘Men in Black’ stick to us like glue tonight?” I asked in a whisper.
I was thinking we’d probably look rather conspicuous and would likely draw unwanted attention with the two of them dogging our heels.
“They’ll be near, but you won’t notice them. They’re good at their jobs,” he told me.
Fifteen
Most everything in Key West closed this time of night, except the nightspots and bars. So, we go to the famous street, Duval, where the nightlife is in full-swing.
After exiting the car at the corner, we walked only about thirty feet before stopping in front of a red brick building. Garland gripped my hand as we bypassed a line of people and headed straight for the door, entering a nightclub that was a lot more appealing on the inside, than its outside suggested.
Garland led me over to a booth located behind a roped-off section where no one else sat. As soon as we’ve taken our seats, a blonde-haired server seemed to appear from nowhere. The twenty-something woman was clad in a tiny barely-there black skirt, a tight black tank top, and wore silver platform heels. She greeted us with a big smile; though more so for Garland than me. After taking our drink orders, she flashed another big smile at Garland before walking off with a seductive swing of her hips.
I smiled in amusement, then looked over to see if Garland was watching. But found him watching me instead.
Poor man, he probably dealt with that sort of behavior from women all the time.
“There isn’t another empty table to be had, how’d we get so lucky?” I asked, looking around the crowded club.
“No luck was necessary, I always plan ahead,” he told me.
“Do you own this club as well?” I asked suspiciously
. He sure as hell walked into the place like he owned it.
“No,” he answered with a smile, and I couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or not.
A short while later, I learned that Garland didn’t “do” dancing, but allowed me to pull him out onto the dance floor during a slow song anyway. We danced closely, our bodies in perfect rhythm, while “Die For You” by The Weeknd echoed loudly throughout the club. For someone who didn’t do dancing, Garland proved surprisingly good at it.
“The rhythm must come from your Latin genes,” I joked, remembering his Argentinian heritage.
“I didn’t say I couldn’t dance, only that I don’t,” he corrected with a superior look.
I moved my body against him seductively as we danced, swaying my hips and deliberately brushing my ass against his crotch. Garland eventually grasped me by the hips and held me against his body. “You’re going to pay for this later,” he warned, some of his cool slipping.
“I certainly hope so,” I returned, daring him to bring it on. I moaned when he nipped my ear with his teeth; proving he wasn’t the only one affected by my antics.
When we finally exited the floor and returned to our table, a bottle of champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket, and once again, tight-black-skirt appeared instantly out of nowhere. I was starting to suspect she just laid in wait for us.
“What do we toast to?” I asked Garland, after she’d poured our champagne and left.
“To you Camry, for managing to turn me into a high school boy with a crush,” he said, bringing his glass up to meet mine.
Garland downed his, but I didn’t drink mine at all. I sat speechless instead.
The devil knew exactly what he was doing too; as was evident in those jewel-colored eyes that gleamed back at me. Garland was no doubt aware of his effect on the female population. But no matter, I was so letting the hot boy from school get into my pants tonight.
We left shortly after, walking down Duval Street and briefly stopping at two other bars with live bands playing. Garland was indulging me of course, he claimed to never go to clubs or bars unless it involved business, period. I took pleasure in that fact; the fact that he cared enough to do it for me.
After having consumed a martini and two glasses of champagne at the nightclub, Garland cut off my drinks, asserting I would be sick come morning because I hadn’t eaten. And though I balked at his high-handedness, he made a fairly sound point. I was already light-headed, and could use a dark corner to sleep in.
Still though…did he have to go all parental on me?
Like deja’ vu, I awakened in Garland’s bed to find him nowhere in sight.
I looked down at the large white t-shirt I wore in puzzlement; with no recollection of having put it on. Until I suddenly recalled the events of last night. I cringed, groaning in mortification, remembering I’d been a little bit wasted.
Garland must think me a hot-mess.
Shaking my head in disgust with myself, I looked over at the window, hoping I hadn’t overslept again. But though the curtains were drawn, I could tell it was daylight out.
Climbing out of bed, I ventured over to the window and pulled back one of the curtains. I’m surprised to see the boat still docked in Key West. I assumed we’d headed back to South Beach after returning from partying.
Grabbing my phone from my purse, I was vastly relieved to see it was only 9:20 a.m.
I headed for the bathroom and quickly showered, before rubbing my body down with sunblock and pulling on a coral sundress. After slipping on my sandals, I let my wet hair hang loose to air-dry, before going in search of Garland.
I found him in his office. He sat with his phone up to his ear, and with his gaze focused on the computer screen in front of him.
I listened to his one-sided conversation as I lingered in the doorway, intrigued by his Russian dialect. Not that I knew what he was saying, but it was the first time I’d heard him speak the language. When Garland glimpsed me standing here, I signaled I’d come back; but he waved me into his office. As I moved to sit across from him, Garland gestured for me to come around his desk instead. Doing his bidding, I rounded the desk as he pushed back in his chair, then clutched a hand around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. I gasped when he buried his face into the side of my neck; then started to giggle because it tickled. Garland said something into the phone then abruptly ended the call.
After placing his phone on the desk, he wrapped both his arms around me. “Good morning, beautiful, I hope you slept well,” he greeted, mouth grazing the side of my neck.
I smiled like a loon. The man’s got a hands-on policy that I liked.
“I slept fine, but I’m sorry about last night, I usually know my limits,” I told him, feeling contrite.
“You didn’t have any food in your stomach to absorb the alcohol, that’s why it hit you so hard,” he offered.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and nestled closer. “Why are we still in Key West?” I asked, “I thought we’d be back in South Beach by now.”
Garland lifted his head to look at me. “Should you have returned already?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t have to rush back. But don’t you have work to do—need to go into the office or something?” I asked curiously.
It was Monday, I assumed it to be work as usual for him. Not that I knew what his usual day might consist of.
“I would typically go into the office, yes, but a perk of being the boss is that I get to do as I please,” Garland said. “Besides, why waste a day at the office when I can spend it with you? I thought we’d enjoy at least a few hours here since you didn’t get to see it last night.”
And I felt my heart melt just a little.
“You are as sweet as you are gorgeous, thank you,” I told him with a kiss of appreciation.
“You’re welcome. I brought you here to enjoy yourself, we can do whatever you want,” he said.
Whatever I want turned out to be jet skiing, parasailing, and lying on the beach ogling a shirtless Garland in navy blue swim trunks. He was in drool-worthy condition, with muscles and definition in all the right places, even his back. He must workout damn hard.
After the beach, we walked around touring some of the local attractions; including the Hemingway House and the butterfly conservatory. We also toured some of the local shops and eateries, with me buying tacky souvenirs and pigging out on key lime pie and gelato. Garland proved infinitely patient; as well as a good sport, by being game for whatever I wanted to do. I imagined he must be a busy man, yet, he’d taken out the time to do those touristy things with me. That he didn’t act as if it were a waste of his time, made me like him even more.
Joe and Viktor shadowed us the entire time, and I didn’t envy their jobs today. I hoped they wouldn’t hate me by the time we were done. And though I managed to ignore their presence for the most part, it still weirded me out to have an audience to everything I did.
Once Garland and I tired ourselves from touring, we grabbed a late lunch at a waterfront restaurant that connected to a hotel. It was easily the best spot in town with its scenic views of the harbor; and was also the perfect cap to a perfect day. I doubted I would’ve enjoyed it nearly as much had I not been with Garland. On second thought, I admit that I enjoyed the day because I was with him.
It’s late afternoon by the time we return to the boat. Feeling the effects of all the sun and heat, we showered together, washing off all the sand and grime from the day. Once we finished, Garland led me to the bed and unwrapped the towel that I was still wearing, letting it fall to the floor.
“Turn around,” he directed.
I turned to face the bed, trembling as he kissed a trail from my neck to my shoulder. “Watching you in that bikini all damn day tested every ounce of patience I own. You’ve no idea how many ways I imagined fucking you,” he whispered near my ear.
Jesus. A thrilled shiver ran through my body at his words.
I wore a white bikini on the beach and during our water spor
ts; but wore my dress over it while touring. The top of the bikini was a strapless bandeau, while the white bottoms were held together by two gold strings that tied on either side of my hips. To know that he’d been thinking about fucking me all-day-long had my feminine pride doing a victory dance.
I moaned when he brought his hands around to cup my breasts, teasing the nipples, before sliding a hand down my stomach and between my legs. My feet spread shamelessly, granting him better access.
“Bend over,” he ordered.
Barely hesitating, I leaned forward in anticipation—forearms supporting me and my ass in the air.
Not the most dignified position, I admit, but my body was on autopilot.
Garland ran his warm palms down my back and over my ass. “This has been driving me to distraction,” he murmured, caressing my flesh. “Are you still a virgin here?” he asked, finger trailing dangerously close to my NO zone.
Huh? I went instantly on alert, my body tensing and my heart thumping in alarm.
Was he referring to my butt-hole? I fervently hope not. Because it’s been untouched and I intended on it staying that way.
“Uh, yes,” I squeaked, wondering what the fuck was happening.
There was no way he would be putting his cock in my ass. Nope, not happening. I was willing to try kink, but ass-play was my hard-limit.
Garland reached a hand between my legs, trailing a finger through my wetness before entering it inside. “That may be something that needs rectifying,” he said, adding a second finger.
I let out a long moan as he moved his fingers inside of me; curving them to push against the wall of my vagina and stroking what must be my g-spot. I writhed, the new sensation grabbing hold of my body and taking over. Garland continued stroking, while the fingers of his other hand trailed between my legs and spread the wetness to my NO zone.
I gasped in alarm. This shit was going sideways real-quick.
“Relax, Camry, I won’t be initiating you just yet,” he said in a raspy voice, words unconvincing.
