Take a Chance on Me (12 page)

Well, it made a change to have ‘undercover' sex.

But then, so much about this encounter was different. By now, the old Mac would have been making excuses about having to say goodbye, not willing to hear yet another thrilling post-coital monologue about designer shopping trips and invites to shallow celebrity parties.
Early start, I'll call you …
and the woman would be sent on her way out the door, panties in hand.

But with this beautiful, ingenuous woman, it felt different, very different. He was eager to hear her opinions, to impress her. And she seemed genuinely fascinated by what he had to say, with no ulterior motives. None. It felt good – more valuable somehow.

And there was, no doubt about it, a connection between them. He'd felt it when she first walked by, and he felt it again now, with her golden tresses flowing over her bare shoulders, lying in his arms, like … like she belonged here.

He shook himself.

Coming down from a cloud
, he thought,
that's all this is. No doubt my body really needed this. I've been working too hard.

But he liked seeing her reaction to his decor and his floating home – though for the life of him he couldn't work out why it should matter so much that she approved.

He had to really fight off the urge to show it to her some more.

Sadie broke the spell with a question, seemingly trying to keep it chatty – perhaps she sensed the change – sensed there was something awry.

‘So, in another life,' she asked, ‘
would
you want to be rich and famous? And actually own something like this?'

‘Is this a test?'

‘No, silly, it's “let's play make-believe”.'

‘Oh,
make-believe
! Famous? No, never. Seen enough of the problems that can cause. Rich? Well, in that case, yes I could probably force myself to spend a summer or two cruising round the world – till the novelty wore off.'

‘Hmm … Would it ever wear off?'

‘Well, it'd depend on what you did the rest of the time. If you were feeding orphans and adopting chimpanzees, shall we say, then two summers off would be fine,' he said.

‘Escaping from the world – doing rich guy things, like swimming with dolphins, fending off pirates …'

‘… finding Atlantis …'

She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. ‘Now you're being silly!'

‘You're the one that said make-believe! But to answer you seriously, yes, that's the clichéd life everybody would love, isn't it?'

‘Actually, do you know what?' She looked thoughtful. ‘Come to think of it, no. Not really. I honestly don't think I would.'

‘No?'

‘No. This floating palace is breathtaking for sure, but just think of the upkeep. And what you could do with all that money instead. If you could afford this, think of all those other charities you could help out, not just orphans and chimps. What about scientific studies – research for the greater good.'

It was Mac's turn to raise an eyebrow.

‘No,' she went on, ‘I think sailing into the sunset once or twice a year would be quite enough – that would keep it really special.'

‘Oh, okay, just once or twice a year, eh? Well, I'll see what I can do.'

‘Thank you. Wouldn't want to get spoilt. Too much of a good thing and all that? And let's face it, this is not a real home, is it?'

Mac furrowed his brow, just a little. ‘I suppose not.'

‘And what if I – if a person – had a family,' she went on. ‘Kids don't exactly fit on a superyacht lifestyle, do they?'

‘Oh, I don't know, any little rug-rats could always be banished to the poop deck. They'd fit quite nicely in there.'

‘Ha-ha. But you don't have a poop deck.'

‘I'd build one especially for the rug-rats.'

‘Well, don't do so on my account. I wouldn't need one,' she said.

‘No crèche, no playpen?'

She shook her head.

Ahh, no rug-rats,
he thought. ‘Okay, just as well. The
Nomad
is actually used for business a lot.'

‘Ahh, business.' Sadie's face came over all reflective for a moment. ‘Kids and business don't mix very well.'

Never a truer word,
thought Mac. ‘Ain't that the truth.'

‘And anyway, Mister Deckhand, shows how much you know, 'cos it's not a poop deck, anyway, it's a fly bridge.'

‘Oo-ooo! So you
have
swallowed that brochure!'

‘No, you can thank Mr Sunseeker for that little nugget.' She laughed.

‘He'll be celebrating tonight,' Mac said, leaning over and playing with a tendril of her hair. ‘I hear it was sold to a movie star this afternoon.'

‘Oh, really?'

‘
And
his wife, before you start wanting an introduction to him, too!'

‘Cheeky! What kind of a girl do you take me for?'

‘This kind,' he said, and pushed her back on her elbows, raised her knees in the air.

‘Again?'

‘Oh, yeah.'

‘I thought you'd never ask.'

‘I don't usually ask.'

He came up for a hot passionate kiss, before resting his finger on her bottom lip and, smiling devilishly, slid back downwards, grazing his thigh on her heels.

‘Oops sorry! Shoes off?' she asked.

‘Oh, no, shoes on,' he replied, and she moaned, gasping as he buried his face in her wetness, making her throw her head back. Nuzzling, and thrusting his tongue inside her, he looked up from between her legs. ‘Definitely shoes on.'

Sucking and kissing her, using his fingers and tongue, he explored every inch of her, as she pulled at his hair and writhed beneath him. Mac found himself delighting in her responses to his every touch, and found that he was even more keen on pleasing her than before. Then he felt the telltale tension and heard the change in her breathing as another earth-shattering orgasm washed over her.

She was speechless, breathless, and just flopped herself back onto the cushions.

He was hard again, but he saw her sneak a look at her watch.

‘Would you like a drink before you have to leave?' he asked.

‘I could murder a hot chocolate. It's my only vice.'

‘Mine too. With cream on top.' He chuckled.

‘Yes, and stroodles.'

‘Stroodles?' he asked, getting up.

‘Yes,' she said, ‘curly chocolate shavings – much posher than cheap old chocolate shaker stuff!'

He laughed. ‘You do like a taste of the high life, don't you! Sadly there's none available “Chez Mac”, unless we wait for chef to come back, or you help me find my way around the galley kitchen. Otherwise … I could get us both a whisky instead?'

She shook her head and smiled. ‘You're going to get told off for taking advantage while the Captain's not here!'

‘Well, while the Cap'ns away, the mouse will play …'

‘Ha-ha, funny man! And bringing strange women on board! He'll have you cleaning the silver when he gets back!'

‘Me? Never! He lets me do what I like.'

Well, at least that bit was true
.

‘Yes, okay then, but I'd prefer a Bailey's if you've got one, with ice, please, waiter.'

Mac draped a tea towel over his arm, and another one comically around his middle and walked towards the elaborate bar in the corner of the lounge. Sam gazed in wonderment and followed him over. She marvelled at the half-dressed Adonis before her, and resisted giving him more compliments about his incredible toned body. She adjusted her clothing slightly to make her own shape as alluring as possible. Some kind of makeshift toga –
yeh, that'll do for now
.

‘I think you're really lucky having the run of the place,' she said. ‘He's a good boss, isn't he, the Captain? My last boss was a nightmare. That's why I started up on my own, I guess. Easier to keep a grip on things when you're in charge.'

‘Are you hard to control then, Sam?' Mac winked, cracking open some ice from the dispenser. A small piece escaped, and he picked it up in his fingers and seductively licked it then offered it to her. Her heartbeat went up a notch.

‘Depends on what I'm being asked to do,' she said, rising up on tiptoe to reach the ice. He traced it around her lips slowly as she held her mouth open for him. The dripping cube felt exotic against her full lips, still swollen from kissing him.

‘That depends on what's on the menu,' he said, circling the ice around her top then bottom lips.

Sadie sucked the cube into her mouth completely, and then suddenly crunched it, looking up at him wickedly. ‘The menu depends on who's doing the choosing.'

In response, he kissed her passionately, her mouth cool, his tongue hot. She melted too, her knees feeling weaker by the minute.

Then Mac ended abruptly and leaned back against the bar. He took another ice cube into his mouth. ‘What if
I'm
doing the ordering? What's on
my
menu, Sam?'

Things were getting intense again, and Sadie felt strong emotions stirring in the pit of her stomach. And not just sexual ones.
Oh-oh.

The passion tonight had taken her by surprise and it wasn't just because it marked the end of a considerable drought. For her own sanity, she knew it was vital now to stay on the right side of the line.
Keep it simple, Sadie, keep the emotions at bay
.

‘On your menu? I'd say pretty much anything – a complete smorgasbord if I'm asked nicely. After all, sometimes – just sometimes – I'm quite easy to control.' She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

‘Ooooh, there's a thought,' he said as she took her drink. ‘Don't start me off again. “Control”… you … Mmmmm,' he said, bringing himself up to his full height pushing up against her slightly.

‘And sometimes,' she purred, taking a sip and placing her drink down on the counter. ‘Sometimes I can't help myself.' She relieved him of his glass then forced his hands behind his back. ‘Sometimes I just have to be the dominant one.'

She leaned into his hard body, forcing it up against the bar, feeling his arousal stirring again below her, and reached up on tiptoe to kiss him deeply. He tasted of sex, and whisky. Then, without saying a word, she put another ice cube into her mouth, and crunched it. He did a theatrical flinch.

With her cold mouth she licked his nipples, and chest. He leant back and groaned. Then she pulled his arms behind his back more tightly, while her other hand came round to the front. She held him, long and hard, freeing him from the fabric that imprisoned him, and stroking up and down while she reached up and her tongue explored his mouth. It was hot, and he hungrily kissed her back.

‘Your turn,' she said. ‘This time it's all about you.'

Suddenly there was a noise from outside.

‘Shit,' she said as he moved quickly away from her.

Footsteps – several of them – walking swiftly along the wooden deck towards the steps that led in their direction.

‘Shit,' Mac echoed, and Sadie knew her magical evening was about to end. At least Cinderella had the clock striking to warn her.

Straightening themselves up, Mac hesitated, then seemed to make up his mind that it would be best if they weren't seen.
Oh God – is he going to get in trouble? Or maybe … maybe he's ashamed?

‘This way,' he whispered, and grabbing their things, he led her through another door and through the galley to the other side of the deck where they dressed on the run, in the darkened recesses, helping each other do up buttons, and stealing kisses in between carefully avoiding the returning crew. Suppressing giggles, Sadie went to speak but Mac hushed her with a finger on her lips. They ducked behind some loungers just as Mario sprinted up the gangplank with two big bottles of champagne under his arms. When the coast was clear, Mac turned Sadie towards him for one last, lingering kiss, and pretty soon they were back on the jetty, half-walking, half-jogging along till they reached the street. Sadie hailed a passing taxi, and turned to face Mac, wondering what would happen next.

The answer was a pause.

A long pause.

But he said nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

In that moment she knew it was all over.

Okay, brave face time,
thought Sadie.

‘I guess this is goodbye,' she said, plastering on a grin.
He must want a clean exit, otherwise he'd have said something by now. Given some sort of indication.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening, and for showing me round your super-boat.'

He smiled. ‘It's been a pleasure.'

For the longest time he seemed torn, looking down at her big green eyes, and playing with one of her blonde tresses. The look on his face drew her in, entrancing her and she caught her breath. Time stood still, and for a split second, Sadie's heart leapt as she thought this might not be the end after all, right here, right now.

But after several heart-stopping moments, he just leaned down for the most tender, loving, delicate kiss she'd ever experienced, melting her soul. A powerful bolt of emotion sliced through her from her stomach to her toes and turned her legs to jelly.

Then he kissed her on her nose, and on both of her eyelids. She felt a tear prickling but she shook it off, forcing a smile.

Then, looking deep into his eyes, instead of going back in for a final passionate lip-lock, she flittered feather-light kisses over his lips … and jawline … and cheeks … and chin. He inhaled and shut his eyes and she kissed those too.

‘Well, as they say, thanks for “having me”.' She laughed, breaking the tension.

‘Look after yourself, Samantha Businesswoman.'

‘Bon voyage, Mac.' And with one last, brief kiss, she was gone.

The taxi pulled away and she waved back at him through the rear window. He ran his fingers over his jawline and watched. As she disappeared into the distance, Mac almost found himself chasing after the cab, to – what? – explain? Get another kiss? Take her back for another session? Tell her everything? He didn't know. He shook himself and turned to trudge back towards the jetty. The walk down the cobblestones had never been longer. He stood at the edge of the gangplank, by the railings, watching the seawater slap up against the hull.