Toy Boy (7 page)

Thomas’ hands had been soft. He’d always been so gentle with me, too. Never grabbed me, squeezed me, taken me with wild passion against a wall or in an alley. Our lovemaking had always been calm and controlled, mostly in bed, under the duvet.

But Sullivan? He’d told me he sometimes became overwhelmed with passion. That on occasion, he’d just let go—provided his partner had been up for it, of course. I hadn’t pushed the subject. Despite being curious to know more about what his ‘letting go’ had entailed, I hadn’t wanted details of his sex life with other women. Not when all I’d wanted to do was bed him myself.

‘You ever played with ropes, Kay? A bit of bondage? No? Maybe you’d like it. Perhaps you’ll let me tie you to the bed on the boat? It has these handy little rails around the shelving to stop things from sliding off. I’ll blindfold you and have my wicked way with you. I’ll tease you until you squirm and pull against the binds. Then, when I’m ready, I’ll fuck you. Make you scream my name over and over, and we’ll be out at sea. Far out at sea. You won’t be heard, not even when I make you double, triple orgasm and then finally take my pleasure, coming deep, deep inside you as I let go of my control.’

I squeezed my legs together. Just thinking about one of those thick ropes around my wrists while I was being fucked senseless had a pulse tugging at my clit. Was he thinking about that conversation now, like I was? Remembering how I’d gone quiet on the other end of the phone and he’d had to persuade me to talk again? When I had, I’d admitted that he’d turned me on with the suggestion of bondage. It was something that had always lurked in the shadows of my fantasies.

Eventually, the sail was tucked away and the boat slowed almost to a halt.

I blew out a breath and looked at the sparkling surface of the water. Now all he had to do was turn Dolly Bird back to Cephalonia. There’d be no bondage today.

Chapter Six

Sullivan joined me on the back deck of the boat again. He was a little out of breath from the effort of securing the sails, and a dewy layer of sweat had dampened the strands of pale hair in the center of his chest.

“We’re not far from land,” he said, flicking a key that had a bright orange float dangling from a bit of string. “Arkudi is right there.”

A motor rumbled beneath me, and Dolly Bird purred to life. I looked toward the bow. Sure enough, we weren’t as far from land as I’d thought. A great rock with pale cliffs was just ahead.

“Great, do they have an airport?”

He looked steadily at me.

Again I studied my reflection in his shades. My head appeared overly large, my hair wild, and I was squashing my breasts with my palm. I moved my hand, tried to look less prudish, and flattened my hair that was tickling my cheek in the breeze. He seemed so at ease with nature, in control of his body, his strength and his power. It made me feel small and inept in my new environment.

“Baby, I don’t even think they have cars there, let alone an airport.”

“Oh, okay.”

“So we’ll anchor and have brunch. You must be starving.”

“I’d really rather—”

“I know, you’d really rather go home and not be in my company, but basically it’s hot, I’m hungry, and while you’ve been sleeping, I’ve been working my ass off to get the wind in Dolly’s sails and show you some of Greece. The parts of Greece tourists don’t usually get to see.” He steered the boat to the left, aiming for what looked like a small bay.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” I tutted.

“I know, but it’s nuts to come all this way and not get out to sea at least once. Especially when we have this beautiful boat at our disposal.”

“So after brunch you’ll take me back to Fiscardo? Back to the airport.”

“That depends.” He flashed me a wickedly sure-of-himself smile.

“On what?”

“If you still want to go.”

My frown deepened. “I will.”

“We’ll see.”

I huffed, not wanting him to have the last word but not knowing what else to say. Because I was going to get myself a ticket for home today, of that I was sure.

The boat was slowing further now and the cliffs loomed large. I could make out individual plants clinging to their sides. Small and dry, they had droopy, orange flowers that swayed in the breeze.

I glanced down at the sea. The sun was illuminating the dark depths, and the water was becoming the color of a Ceylon sapphire. We’d carved a frothy trail mapping our journey but here, as we came to a halt and the engine was turned off, the froth softened and faded.

“Take the wheel,” Sullivan said.

“What?” I dragged my attention away from a patch of weeds below the surface that was sparkling golden and dancing on the current.

“The wheel. You hold it while I drop anchor.”

“Here?” I stared around. There was absolutely nothing. No harbor, no pier, no houses. It was just a small sandy beach, cliffs and a few olive trees leading up a steep hill.

“It’s perfect,” he said. “Now hold this. Won’t take me long, hopefully.”

He moved to the right and up onto the side of the boat.

I quickly put my hands over the spot his had been and felt the warmth left behind by his palms. It excited me, that bit of heat. I couldn’t be sure why and that fact annoyed me.

We were hardly moving now, just rocking, but I kept a tight hold of the wheel, not wanting to make a mistake.

Sullivan navigated to the front of the boat. I watched him go, admiring how he moved with ease on the narrow strip around the side.

A loud clanking sound came from the front of Dolly Bird and rattled around the cliffs. He looked over the edge, his hair flopping forward and his back bending so that it showed the outline of his wide shoulder blades.

“Is it down?” I called.

“Yes, just hold her steady and we’ll see if she’s caught.”

The boat was moving to the right, bobbing up and down as it did so.

“If we’ve got a good hold,” he called, “we’ll catch the current but then stop moving once we’re facing into it.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Find a landmark on the cliff right there,” he said, “and see if we stay in alignment with it.”

I did as he’d asked and stared at a spiky brown bush clinging to the cliff face.

It stayed in the same place as the boat swung gently to the right then stopped.

“Still in line?” Sullivan called.

“Yep, still there.”

“Great, that should do us then.” He straightened and came back to the stern.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping down next to me. “Always helps to have someone else when anchoring or docking.”

“Can I let go?”

“Yes, should be fine.” He removed his shades and set them on the small table in front of the wheel. “You coming in?”

“In where?”

“The sea.” He winked, then in one bound, dove off the back of the boat.

“Oh!” I said, as he went beneath the water.

His splash reached me, peppering my skin in cool droplets.

He surfaced, flicked his hair from his face and blew out, sending a small spray of water from his mouth.

“Come on in, it’s lovely.”

“Well, I don’t know.” I glanced down at my underwear.

“It’s like a bikini. Come on, it will dry in no time.” He tipped onto his back and kicked. “Unless,” he said, with a wink, “you fancy skinny dipping. I’m up for it if you are.”

“Er, no.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He chuckled, turned onto his front, then burst into a front crawl.

It came to my mind that at this moment, he couldn’t be further removed from his business and all the responsibilities that entailed. It clearly gave him a boost to be out here, at sea like this and away from everything.

I cautiously took a step down onto the narrow ledge at the back of the boat that was only a foot from the sea.

Could I?

I wanted to. I had the urge to feel like I, too, was a million miles from the lecture hall, from my small Oxford office and the worries of finding a parking space, of being home for the grocery delivery, or making time for the gym.

“Come on,” Sullivan called, slowing and turning. “You only live once, Kay.”

Damn, he was right. And I was here, right now. This was my moment to dive in.

Before I could change my mind, I tipped forward, held my nose and jumped in, feet first.

The water flooded my ears with a roar. Sharp coldness wrapped around me and raced between my legs.

I kicked and lashed out, bursting to the surface, gasping.

“Whoa,” I called, “you didn’t tell me it was going to be so cold.”

“It’s refreshing,” he said, swimming toward me. “Nothing like a dip in the sea to wake you up for the day.”

I went into a breaststroke and tested out the feel of being immersed in open water.

“You going to swim all the way round?” he asked.

“Round what?”

“The boat. Come on.”

“Okay.” I was a little breathless, but only from the initial shock of the coolness, and I was getting used to it now. I could swim just fine.

“Great, I’ll stick by you.”

He swam at my side as I pushed out with my legs and headed toward the little bush I’d been using as my pinpoint.

“How do you feel?” he asked, lazily flipping to his back again and kicking.

“Cold.” I laughed. “It’s great but a bit scary.”

“Why scary?”

“It’s just… What else is swimming with me? Except for you, that is.”

“Oh lots.”

“Thanks. That helps.” I strained my eyes to look downward. The seabed was visible, mainly sand with a few rocks scattered about, but it was still pretty deep.

He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled a little. “Nothing that will hurt you. It’s all good.”

“Not even jellyfish?”

“Well, yeah, but they prefer the deeper water.”

I wasn’t sure how true that was but decided to believe him, twisted onto my back and stared up at the perfect blue sky.

“You’re a natural,” he said. “And believe me, you’ll get hooked.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I thought how absolutely wonderful it was to be right here, in this tiny part of the world.

“Thanks,” I said, “for making me have this memory to take back.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“What do you mean? I’ve hardly behaved how you thought. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I agree that you didn’t take our age gap as well as I thought you would—the opposite in fact—but still, these last eight months, I’ve never been happier. Since I met you online, I’ve felt like I was working for someone other than myself, the future meant something. I had an aim, a goal, and that was to make you happy.”

His words filled me with regret. He had made me happy. I wanted him to
still
make me happy.

“It’s all made sense to me,” he went on, “this life. It’s meant to be shared with someone special. A soul mate.”

I flipped onto my stomach. “But do you really, in your heart of hearts, think that’s me?”

He was treading water and looking at me. His hair was much darker now that it was wet.

“You’ve made me very happy, Kay. Happier than I ever thought I could be, and for that, no matter what happens now, I’ll always be grateful. Now I know what I want. Though you’ve set a damn high bar for anyone else to reach, I’ll always strive for a connection like ours.”

I swallowed—a lump of regret had risen up from my stomach and wedged itself in my throat. “Sullivan—”

“No, please don’t say you’re sorry or I’m too young again. I don’t want this moment wrecked.” He jerked his head. “Come on, we haven’t been all the way around yet.”

I stared at him, at his lips. I had a sudden urge to kiss him. Not in a polite, way, but in a passionate, go-for-it way. I wanted to make it right for him. Give him what he wanted. A memory. Really I did.

“Okay,” I said, kicking out, “let’s do it. All the way round. Last one back makes brunch.”

He laughed and the seriousness left his face. “I love your competitive streak and that you actually think you can beat me.”

“Of course I can beat you.”

I was already a little way ahead of him because I’d lunged out first, plus, I was nearer the boat. Soon, I was turning around the bow. I dodged the chain that held the anchor and sliced through the water, amazed that he hadn’t overtaken me.

Was he letting me win?

I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t see him.

A flash of movement below the surface caught my attention.

He was under the water, deep, as if diving to the bottom.

I paused and watched him.

The soles of his feet flashed pale, and a puff of sand billowed around his hand as he disturbed the seabed.

Then he swiveled and powered up to the surface, breaching it with a splash and an inward gulp of air.

I carried on swimming, eyeing the platform at the back of Dolly Bird. I wanted to win.

There was a small chrome ladder with only a couple of rungs that made climbing out of the water easy. I pulled myself up, missing the weightlessness the sea had given me.

As I stepped out, I was aware of Sullivan close behind. He’d be getting a great view of my arse in my little white knickers.

I sashayed my hips, just a little, then looked over my shoulder at him.

He grabbed hold of the boat and grinned up at me.

Oh yeah, he’d been getting an eyeful. I recognized that look in a man’s eyes. He liked what he saw, and for a moment, that knowledge utterly thrilled me.

For a moment.

Then I remembered the age thing.

“Here,” he said, holding up a shell. It was pale pearlescent pink and swirl-shaped like the top of a soft-served ice cream. “A souvenir.”

“I love it.” I took it and slid the tip of my finger over the smooth surface. “Is there anything living in it?”

“No, I don’t think so. It was just lying on the seabed.”

“Is this what you went down for?”

“Yeah.”

He planted his hands on the flat surface of the narrow deck and hoisted himself out of the water. Splashes rained down and rushed off his body, gullies forming between his taut abdominal muscles.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, sending a spray of water that hit me.