by Roz Lee
Table of Contents
The Lust Boat
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About The Author
Red Sage Publishing
An eRedSage Publishing Publication
This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the author’s imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental.
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The Lust Boat
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Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
The Lust Boat © 2010 by Roz Lee
Cover © 2010 by Rae Monet
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The Lust Boat
***
By Roz Lee
TO MY READER:
What’s not to love about a cruise? Especially an erotic one? There’s something about being out on the ocean, isolated from the rest of the world that frees your imagination to run wild. Well, at least mine did! The Lothario isn’t like any cruise ship you’ve ever been on, so pack your bikini and your sunscreen, and step aboard. Your cabin awaits you. Bon voyage!
Chapter One
Ryan watched the monitor as the last few passengers came aboard. His friend and business partner, Richard Wolfe, greeted each one in person. Ryan left the task to Richard, preferring to run the business end of the cruise from his forward suite, one deck above the Bridge. He rarely left the luxury suite, preferring solitude to the bacchanal atmosphere of the lower decks.
Richard, however, loved the party scene. As acting Cruise Director he had his finger, or to be more accurate, his penis, in every aspect of the cruise. The crew and staff were well trained, leaving Richard plenty of time to screw his way through the clientele. Such behavior would be frowned upon on any other cruise ship, but aboard the Lothario it was considered good customer service, and by all accounts, Richard was up to the challenge. In the two years they had been in business, not one complaint had been lodged about the quality of Richard’s customer service.
“Hard to argue with success,” Ryan mumbled.
“What did you say?” Richard said into his headset.
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” Ryan answered. “How can we have over 2,500 guests and not an interesting one in the bunch?”
“You, my friend, need to get out of that tower of yours and walk among the living. We have 1,257 gorgeous women aboard this ship. And here comes number 1,258. Hello! Would you look at that?” His voice trailed off as Richard shifted his attention to the last passenger. Ryan glanced at the monitor. His head spun like a compass in the Bermuda Triangle. Botticelli would have loved those generous curves, the kind a man could hold onto, sink into. Soft auburn curls bounced over her shoulders and framed the face of an angel, a nervous angel, he surmised by the way she bit her lower lip and glanced over her shoulder as if contemplating her escape.
“Who is that?” he asked.
Richard took the angel’s hand and drew her closer to the security camera. “Hello. Welcome aboard the Lothario. I’m Richard, your Cruise Director. And you would be…?”
“Candace Williams.” She tugged on her hand, but Richard held fast.
“First names only, please. That is our one and only privacy rule onboard.”
“Oookaaay.” She looked like a rabbit caught in a trap as she once again tried to free her hand.
“Get your slimy hands off of her, Richard. You can have all the others,” Ryan growled into Richard’s ear. “This one is mine.”
Richard gave no indication he’d heard a word his partner had said. Instead, he drew Candace further on deck and tucked her hand up against his bare chest. “Anything you need just let me know. I am your servant to command,” he purred. Candace glanced over her shoulder again as the crew disassembled the gangway and stowed it for sailing. When she turned back to Richard and the camera above his shoulder, her full lips were drawn together in a thin line, her eyes wide, and her magnificent chest heaved. Nerves; maybe a touch of panic.
Ryan knew Richard was trying to annoy him. For two years, he’d tried every trick in the book to get him to take advantage of the veritable feast of female flesh offered up to them on every cruise. His first mistake had been showing interest in this one. He might as well have waved a red flag in front of a charging bull. By playing up to her, Richard insured Ryan would have no choice but to come down and rescue her from the clutches of his reprobate partner.
“May I see you to your cabin?”
Miss Candace Williams tugged on her hand again and this time Richard let it go. “No, thank you. I’m sure I can find it on my own.”
Her perfect ass wiggled out of sight, and Richard swung the security camera around to his face. “She’s a skittish thing; didn’t even want me to hold her hand. I might have to give her special attention, if you know what I mean. Bring her out of her shell so she can enjoy all the amenities onboard.”
“Stay the hell away from her.” Ryan broke the connection while his fingers flew across the keyboard. In a matter of seconds, he had Candace Williams’ information in front of him. She had a single cabin on the Aegean deck, forward. Age twenty-seven, five-six, heterosexual and she’d never been married. She’d booked her single ticket at the last minute, unusual, but not unheard of. A few more keystrokes brought her photo up on the big screen. He couldn’t say what it was about her; only that she wasn’t like their usual passengers. If he had to put a label on it, he would say she looked fresh, innocent perhaps.
He wondered if she knew what type of entertainment they offered on this cruise, or if she’d needed a place to go on the spur of the moment, and booked the Lothario without checking into the details. Whatever it was, Ryan was going to make it his job to find out. He needed to find a way to show her the various delights the ship had to offer without her knowing who he was. He knew from experience how his name and bank balance could change everything.
He took another look at the photo of Candace Williams. This woman was different. He knew it to the depths of his soul. Anticipation built inside him, and he smiled as he began to formulate a plan.
Candace didn’t know what to expect, but when she stepped into her stateroom, she knew this wasn’t it. The wall above the bed depicted a peaceful scene of a seaside villa at sunset and the rest of the room resembled a Greek boudoir. Pillows in shades of cream and white, trimmed with gold Hellenic borders, covered the king-sized bed. A matching comforter added a luxurious touch. For a moment, Candace forgot all her qualms, and flopped on her back onto the billowi
ng soft bed and looked straight up. “Oh. My. God.” A wide-eyed reflection of herself stared back at her from the mirrored ceiling.
She rose to a sitting position, grateful for the comfortable mattress. If she could get past seeing herself in bed, she would sleep well. Candace stared at the welcome basket on the built-in vanity. The elaborate arrangement, more than anything else, brought home the enormity of the mistake she’d made by letting her friends talk her into this cruise. She didn’t like to think of herself as a prude, but the array of sex toys and suggestive items in the basket, told her how naïve she was. She poked through the basket, afraid to touch the contents. A few, like the rubber penis, were self-explanatory, but Candace blushed as she read the instructions on the boxes. Clearly, there was a lot more to sex than she’d ever dreamed of. Among the toys, creams and oils were several books. Like most college co-eds, she’d explored the Kama sutra. The one in the basket was a modern version, complete with full-color photos that had more than her skin heating. Maybe it wasn’t too late to go ashore. She ran to the outside door and stepped onto the glass-enclosed balcony. Miami was nothing more than a speck on the horizon. The Lothario had sailed, and her ship was sunk. Somehow, she would have to figure out a way to make the most of the situation.
Candace weighed her options. Perhaps she could stay in her stateroom for the entire week. She looked around for the room service menu and flipped open the tooled leather binder. “Oh my.” Her breath caught as she read. The extensive menu contained not a single food item, unless you counted chocolate body paint. Unable to tear her eyes away, she read through the list of goodies a mere phone call away, all included in her prepaid package. She recognized a few things, feathers, and sex oriented board games, but she couldn’t imagine what she would do with some, if she got up the nerve to order them. What did one do with peeled ginger root?
She closed the binder and tossed it next to the welcome package. Staying in the room was not an option. Unless the thongs in the welcome basket proved edible, she would have to leave the room for food. That thought brought another one. What would she wear for the next week? The brochure had said to bring only one change of clothes, everything else would be provided. Candace eyed the panties in the welcome basket and prayed there were more substantial clothes in the closet.
Her prayers went for naught. The closet produced one white terrycloth bathrobe that would come to mid-thigh at best, and one tropical-print sarong of the same length. A pair of spa style slippers sat on the closet floor. The drawers held an assortment of bra and panty sets, none bigger than a small bandage.
“Oh no” she whispered into the silence. A knock on her door startled her. A cabin steward, dressed in a skimpy turquoise swimsuit, with white cuffs at his wrists and a white collar around his neck, presented her with the evening’s entertainment schedule and suggested she undress for dinner at eight in the main dining room. He handed her a handwritten invitation to Cock-tails in the Captain’s lounge prior to dinner, where she would be seated at the Captain’s table.
Me and fifty other people, she guessed. She considered skipping dinner, especially after reading the information sheet the hunky steward had delivered. The Lothario had a dress code, of sorts. Passengers were not permitted in the dining room unless they were in their dress sarong. The dress code was non-negotiable. Candace turned skeptical eyes on the scrap of fabric. Her stomach growled, making the decision for her. At least everyone would be wearing similar garb, so she wouldn’t stand out.
She consulted the ship’s map and made her way to the Captain’s lounge on the Arcadia deck at seven-thirty, where the Captain himself greeted her. The man looked to be in his late thirties. His formal uniform, tailored to perfection, enhanced his strong physique. A quick scan of the room assured her she was dressed in the same style as the dozen or so women present, but with the exception of the Captain, the men all wore wraps of a similar print, slung low on their hips. There was more exposed male flesh than in a football locker room.
Two striking men wearing feathered headdresses and codpieces carried silver trays of hors d’oeuvres. Plumes of bright-colored feathers rose from their bare asses. Cock-tails. The odd spelling of the word on the invitation made perfect sense now.
“I’m James Whittier, Captain of the Lothario. May I get you something to drink?”
Candace put her hand in his outstretched one and tried to concentrate on the conversation. “It’s nice to meet you Captain.” He continued to hold her hand until she looked up at him. His lips quirked up on one side, revealing his amusement with her discomfort as well as a deep dimple in one cheek.
“And you would be?”
“Oh. Candace. That’s my name,” she babbled.
“About that drink, Candace; what can I get you?”
“Oh. Nothing, thank you.” He released her hand and she fidgeted. “Well, perhaps a glass of water?” At least she’d have something to hold onto.
“At your service,” he said, and left her standing alone as he crossed the room to the bar. Without a purse or clutch, she was lost, so she folded her arms in front of her, clutching her elbows in a death grip. I must look like an idiot. Embarrassment heated her skin. She felt like a Baked Alaska, hot on the outside but frozen on the inside. She cursed her fair complexion and red hair, and her penchant for blushing a shade that clashed with her hair color.
She forced her arms to her side and stepped further into the room, willing herself to relax and enjoy the company when a familiar voice behind her put an end to her mental musings.
“Candace, we meet again.”
She turned to face the Cruise Director. She felt her skin darken another shade as she noticed the man standing next to him. Oh, heavens. If the Captain was an Adonis, this man was nothing short of a god. He was six feet of solid, bronzed muscle. His bare chest was hairless, but his arms and legs, oh those legs, were covered in crisp dark hairs and his bare feet were…big. She jerked her mind out of the gutter and allowed her eyes to travel the way they’d come. They stopped at the bulge in the stranger’s tight sarong. Richard cleared his throat.
“Uh. Yes,” she managed.
“May I introduce you to Ryan?” He indicated the god. Candace swung her gaze to the man’s face and the world shifted under her feet. Whether it was the movement of the ship, or the impact he had on her, she didn’t know, but she stumbled. His hand closed around her arm.
“Whoa, steady there. Are you all right?” His deep voice, laced with concern, washed over and through her, and put her at ease. His grip loosened on her arm but he didn’t release her altogether, sliding his hand down to take hers. He was hot. Not only in a godlike way, but hot, physically hot. Heat traveled up her arm, melting her frozen core inch by inch. The man could melt an iceberg.
“I’m fine.” She pulled on her hand, but Ryan tightened his grip. Not used to touchy-feely types, she wondered, What is it with these people and holding hands? Candace turned her face to his with every intention of protesting his possession, and forgot all about her hand. Gazing at her were the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She’d never been looked at that way, not even by her former fiancé, not even when they’d been as intimate as two people could get. Ryan’s eyes showed both tender concern and controlled lust. Drawn as she was to his eyes, she had the vague impression of strength in his stubbled jaw line, sharp cheekbones and straight nose. He wore his dark hair longer than was fashionable and it brushed his shoulders in an unruly, waving mass.
“Here,” he pulled her across the room, “have a seat.” She sat on the sofa and he came down beside her. His muscled thigh brushed hers. She caught a whiff of his cologne, something musky and entirely masculine. He continued to hold her hand in protective custody. “Here is Captain Whittier with your drink.” Candace took the glass with her free hand and sipped the cold water.
“Thank you,” she said to the Captain. He bowed and beat a hasty retreat, leaving Candace alone with the Cruise Director and the pirate. Yes, that fit. Candace pictured Ryan in tight b
reeches, knee boots and a flowing white shirt. In a few more minutes, she’d be offering herself up as plunder, and all he’d done so far, was look at her and hold her hand. Heaven help her if he chose to do more.
Richard waved his hand and a gaily-feathered cock strolled across the room. He bent low to offer his tray for her perusal. As she opened her mouth to decline, Ryan took a napkin and filled it with one of everything on the tray, waving the costumed servant away. Candace flinched as his tail feathers brushed her face. Given the proximity to his ass, she couldn’t help but look. “Oh my.” The man swung his hips, causing his plumage to swing back and forth. She’d assumed the feathers were attached to a belt, but up close, she saw that wasn’t the case. They appeared to grow straight out of his crack. “Oh my,” she repeated as the cock bent to present his tray to someone across the room and realization dawned. The feathers were attached to a butt plug.
“Shocked?” Ryan asked. He placed the napkin full of hors d’oeuvres on the table and reclaimed her hand.
“Uhm. Yes, yes, I guess I am.”
“If you’re shocked by the cocks you’d better have something stronger than water.”
“I would say so,” Richard chimed in.
Her eyes kept going back to the firm ass cheeks and the plumes of feathers strolling around the room. “There’s something more than this?”
“This is nothing. Wait until you see the rest of the ship. I take it you didn’t spend the afternoon checking out all the amenities?”
“I… I don’t know what to say.” She made the mistake of looking at Ryan. “My girlfriends talked me into coming on this cruise, but they didn’t tell me it was….”
“Erotic?”
“Uhm… yes, I mean, no. No, they didn’t tell me. I knew it was a singles cruise.”
“That’s true. Anything goes on the Lothario. Rape and violence of any kind are not permitted, but consensual sexual play of all persuasions is permitted, encouraged,” Richard supplied. “The ship is designed to stimulate and facilitate sexual exploration and expression.”
