I replayed the last conversation I had with Dylan and shook my head at my stupidity.
“Call me if you need anything. Anything,” I said as I hugged my best friend tightly.
“I promise. Can you do me a favor?” Dylan replied with a smirk.
“What?”
“Fire Andrew.”
“What the hell, Dylan?” I yelled, but Dylan just laughed in return.
“As corny as it sounds, you fucking light up whenever he’s near you. I was concerned - and a bit amused – at your reaction to him when I first arrived. But I also know sometimes life isn’t worth living without taking a few risks. So, fire him and then do what you do best.”
“And what’s that?”
“Close the deal.”
I’d closed the deal, but Andrew was still in my employ. I’d fucked up.
The sauna was an inferno, but temperature had nothing to do with it. It had started with a fiery catalyst, the naked temptation that was Andrew, and resulted in the most intense orgasm of my life. I needed another taste of him. More. Unfortunately, I never got what I longed for, what I rarely wanted from other men – a kiss. Andrew’s kiss. And it was my own fault. I’d been so overwhelmed by my emotions afterward that I couldn’t even look the beautiful man in the eyes. For someone who’d grown an empire on his ability to communicate, I was total shite when it came to my lovers. Not that Andrew and I were lovers—I’d put that to an end when I refused to make eye contact.
He'd slammed the door shut on his way out, and the vibration echoed in my chest. And now there was a whole different kind of tension and complication between us that I would be forced to confront.
I should be ashamed of my reckless behaviour, having sex with an employee. But I wasn’t. Terrified yes, but regretful, no. I’d never be able to sit in this sauna again without seeing his stunning form and his beautiful face when he came. And that right there was a huge bloody warning that rattled my brain. If I broke one rule for Andrew, what would be next? Instead of listening to Dylan’s advice, I’d let my dick win the first round, but the victory was bittersweet and tainted with Andrew’s anger.
I sat in the sauna for a while after he left to let my whirling thoughts settle. Much as I lauded Dylan’s romantic notions, the chances of Andrew and I having something more than casual sex was not realistic. Andrew wasn’t ready for a relationship. And there was a minefield to navigate if he stayed on. How would I keep my desires under control now that I no longer had Dylan as a buffer? God knows I had a hard enough time tamping down the eye-fucking when we were around other people.
To top it all off, my family was about to descend on the yacht.Christ, talk about bad bloody timing. Or maybe it would be a valuable distraction and provide me with the distance I needed to think about my next move. I was not averse to risk, but this situation with Andrew was completely out of my depth. And there was no bloody way I was sailing into it without a lifeboat.
* * *
ANDREW
The next day…
Now, Voyagerwas heading in to Port de Plaisance, Sint Marteen to dock, onboard provisions, and finally, welcome Rowan’s family. I stood on the main deck, enjoying the sunshine and watching the captain and skeleton crew skillfully navigate the narrow channel as we neared the Dutch side of the island. The marina had plenty of mega yachts and sailboats, each one with a large flag fluttering in the breeze. That was one of the things I enjoyed most about yachting life this past year, all the different people and places I got to see and experience.
Despite my wanderlust, I still had a desire, a longing, for home. A few months ago, my plan was to work until March, take care of my bills, head back to Atlanta, and save for a down payment for a house of my own. But lately, I questioned what home meant to me, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to settle down in Georgia. It wasn’t just the bad memories of Anton. I was different person after a year of travel. I had grown, and I didn’t know where I fit in anymore. But if not Atlanta, then where? I didn’t have an answer just yet. I was sailing without a means of navigation. I could drift for now but not forever.
Speaking of forever… I was pretty sure the image of Rowan sitting in that sauna covered in my cum would be burned in my memory for all time. I hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours last night, my fitful sleep interrupted by the memories of the hottest – and possibly biggest - mistake I’d ever made. Given the aftermath, it was clear that Rowan had regrets, so it was time for me to pull up my big boy pants and get on with my job.
I watched the captain expertly steer us into the respective dock, and the deck crew dropped fenders and finally secured the lines. Looking up, I took in the bustling harbor and the gentle rolling green hills of the island until my phone rang.
“Mr. Slater, this is the harbor master. Provisions for dock number 24 are on the way. ETA ten minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Standing on the bridge deck aft, I yelled down to Charlie.
“When you’re done tying up, can you and the engineer please give me a hand with the provisions? ETA ten minutes.”
“You got it.”
I went back inside to grab my tablet, pulling up my checklist. I wanted to verify the provisions as we brought them on board to ensure nothing was missed before we left port. Rowan’s – Mr. Carter’s – family was due to arrive in three hours, and everything had to be perfect.
At 11 o’clock, a young man pulled a large pallet down the dock, the dozens of boxes piled high and threatening to topple over. The volume of food, beverages, and party swag was standard for one week, but given the lack of staff it took an extra fifteen minutes for us to load the provisions. Even the captain pitched in, toting large bags of vegetables and crates of meat and seafood up the plank.
I told him to leave it, but George waved me off and smiled. “It’s fine, Andrew, I don’t mind. I need to keep my forty-seven-year-old body fit.”