As we walk, Opal is attentive and only slightly awed. Cal points out the galley kitchen, the ballroom, the large bedrooms for staff. She gasps when she sees the ballroom, and rolls her eyes at the stuffed heads of moose and bears on the walls of the smoking parlor.
“Of course, these heads are eighty years old,” Cal explains quickly. “I think one of our uncles hunted them. Irving?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I admit, tapping the dusty nose of some unfortunate elk. “They may have actually come with the boat. There’s nobody to ask anymore anyway.”
“I should have this room turned into a gym or something,” Cal muses. “I don’t even like cigars.”
Opal shakes her head in disbelief.
“You guys talk about this like it’s the family car or something,” she chuckles as she stares through the high, round windows of the stateroom.
“That’s not far from the truth,” Cal shrugs. “One time, Irving stole it and got all the way to Annapolis before the Coast Guard caught him.”
Her eyes go wide.
“Irving? Is that true?”
I shrug irritably. “The Coast Guard was absolutely an overreaction,” I explain. “I was never in any danger.”
“You clipped that reef,” Cal remarks.
“It clipped me first,” I reply.
“You stole a boat?” she repeats, incredulous.
Her eyes narrow as she looks me up and down.
“Not really stealing if it’s the family boat…” I object weakly.
Raising her chin defiantly, she begins to walk toward me.
“What? This upsets you?”
“Who are you, Irving Galloway?” she challenges me haughtily.
I don’t answer, but allow her to circle me, dragging her toes through the plush carpet of the stateroom.
“A week ago, I would’ve said… What? Mad genius? Handsome grouch?”
“Ha!” Cal barks from across the room.
“I’m an open book,” I shrug.
She stops, perching her fist on her hips and gazing at me in open defiance. “Are you? An open book? Think about it.”
I try to consider it, but the slim straps of her blouse are distracting me. With every breath, they cast a shadow over her shoulders that opens and closes like a winking eye.
“I’ll think about it later,” I scoff, reaching out.
She welcomes me into her arms, letting me sweep her off her small, shapely feet. Cal follows us as I hoist her over my shoulder and carry her to the master suite, just behind the stateroom.
Giggling with delight, Opal gasps as I toss her onto the bed, her eyes eager with longing.
“There are people on this boat!” she objects, giddy.
“The staff are trained in discretion,” Cal smiles. “They have seen a lot of things. A lot.”
“Really? Like what?” she gasps as I step out of my trousers, freeing my hungry cock.