Page 34
Story: High Sea Seduction
His face tightens as I speak and he erupts into a flood of French, which I’m sure is as disparaging to women as his English was a moment ago.
When he reels to a stop, I raise my eyebrow. “Sorry, was that a yes or a no?”
“Where is Sinclair? I will speak to him and him alone!”
I wave him toward the door. “Of course, but nothing he says will change what I’ve told you. Goodbye, Monsieur Delacroix.”
He sniffs like a startled bull and strides out.
The moment the door slams behind him, my breath shudders out and I look down to see my hands shaking.
What the fuck is wrong with men?
What the fuck is wrong with Mason Sinclair?
My mind zeroes on the person responsible for these tumultuous feelings cascading through me. I toss the pen I’m holding onto the table and stride toward the door.
Whether he likes it or not, Mason Sinclair is about to get another piece of my mind, even if I have to interrupt a testosterone-bonding ceremony between him and Delacroix.
I reach the lower deck and pick a random hallway. As I pass one of the sleek square portholes, I see Delacroix getting onto one of the launches, his face still set in angry lines. I allow myself a smile before resuming my search for Mason.
After several hallways and peering into numerous adult entertainment rooms, I take the stairs to the next deck below. Again, the rooms are empty save for one where the construction crew is working. I’m beginning to think I was wrong in assuming Mason was on board when I spot one of the bodyguards.
I assume he’s just patrolling the deck, but once I approach the farthest point in the aft section where the spank room is located, I realize he’s blocking the door.
He glances at me and an uneasy look flicks across his face. “Hi, Miss Benson.”
He can’t be older than twenty-one or twenty-two, but he’s built like a Sherman tank and looks like he can take down a brick wall with one kick.
“Hi, have you seen Mr. Sinclair?” I ask.
His neck reddens a little. “Umm, yes.” He thumbs the door behind him. “He’s in there.”
I resent the small quiver of excitement that tingles through my belly. “Thanks,” I say, and step toward the door, expecting him to move out of the way. He stays cross-armed and shakes his head.
“Sorry, Miss Benson. Mr. Sinclair left strict instructions not to be disturbed under any circumstances. It’s why I said no to the chef when he wanted to see him, too.” His face is now flushed bright red and another feeling crawls through my belly, a feeling that tastes suspiciously like jealousy.
I stare hard at the black door. “And what exactly is Mr. Sinclair doing in there?” I ask through clenched teeth, even though I don’t need a crystal ball to divine the answer.
“I… umm, not sure… exactly.”
I turn my glare from the door to the guard. “What’s your name?”
“Umm… Daniel, Miss Benson.”
“Daniel, do me a favor and step aside, please.”
He swallows, and I watch him weigh the consequences of refusing my request for a few seconds before he steps aside.
“Thanks. And you don’t need to stick arou—” We both freeze as a loud whoosh sounds through the door, followed by a long, ragged,femininemoan.
The memory of Mason’s hand on my ass slams into my brain, and my hand is turning the handle to the door before another thought forms in my head.
I stumble into the room and exhale in shock at the sight before me.
There isn’t just one, buttwowomen with Mason. He has his back to me and his upper half is bare and dripping with sweat. The redhead next to him is naked save for the tiniest red thong I’ve ever seen, and her eyes flick to me as she rakes her nails down Mason’s back before sliding her fingers into the backside of the tight, black leather pants he’s wearing. Mason doesn’t react to her touch, most likely because his attention is riveted on the other woman in the room.
My eyes swing to the woman—an Asian beauty with small breasts and a breathtaking face—and see the stark hunger and arousal in her expression. She’s completely naked and standing on the platform with the three sides I asked him about during my tour the day before. It looks no different than yesterday from what I can see. The middle partition is still covered in that curious shiny black surface and the two sides that would provide privacy are standing open.
When he reels to a stop, I raise my eyebrow. “Sorry, was that a yes or a no?”
“Where is Sinclair? I will speak to him and him alone!”
I wave him toward the door. “Of course, but nothing he says will change what I’ve told you. Goodbye, Monsieur Delacroix.”
He sniffs like a startled bull and strides out.
The moment the door slams behind him, my breath shudders out and I look down to see my hands shaking.
What the fuck is wrong with men?
What the fuck is wrong with Mason Sinclair?
My mind zeroes on the person responsible for these tumultuous feelings cascading through me. I toss the pen I’m holding onto the table and stride toward the door.
Whether he likes it or not, Mason Sinclair is about to get another piece of my mind, even if I have to interrupt a testosterone-bonding ceremony between him and Delacroix.
I reach the lower deck and pick a random hallway. As I pass one of the sleek square portholes, I see Delacroix getting onto one of the launches, his face still set in angry lines. I allow myself a smile before resuming my search for Mason.
After several hallways and peering into numerous adult entertainment rooms, I take the stairs to the next deck below. Again, the rooms are empty save for one where the construction crew is working. I’m beginning to think I was wrong in assuming Mason was on board when I spot one of the bodyguards.
I assume he’s just patrolling the deck, but once I approach the farthest point in the aft section where the spank room is located, I realize he’s blocking the door.
He glances at me and an uneasy look flicks across his face. “Hi, Miss Benson.”
He can’t be older than twenty-one or twenty-two, but he’s built like a Sherman tank and looks like he can take down a brick wall with one kick.
“Hi, have you seen Mr. Sinclair?” I ask.
His neck reddens a little. “Umm, yes.” He thumbs the door behind him. “He’s in there.”
I resent the small quiver of excitement that tingles through my belly. “Thanks,” I say, and step toward the door, expecting him to move out of the way. He stays cross-armed and shakes his head.
“Sorry, Miss Benson. Mr. Sinclair left strict instructions not to be disturbed under any circumstances. It’s why I said no to the chef when he wanted to see him, too.” His face is now flushed bright red and another feeling crawls through my belly, a feeling that tastes suspiciously like jealousy.
I stare hard at the black door. “And what exactly is Mr. Sinclair doing in there?” I ask through clenched teeth, even though I don’t need a crystal ball to divine the answer.
“I… umm, not sure… exactly.”
I turn my glare from the door to the guard. “What’s your name?”
“Umm… Daniel, Miss Benson.”
“Daniel, do me a favor and step aside, please.”
He swallows, and I watch him weigh the consequences of refusing my request for a few seconds before he steps aside.
“Thanks. And you don’t need to stick arou—” We both freeze as a loud whoosh sounds through the door, followed by a long, ragged,femininemoan.
The memory of Mason’s hand on my ass slams into my brain, and my hand is turning the handle to the door before another thought forms in my head.
I stumble into the room and exhale in shock at the sight before me.
There isn’t just one, buttwowomen with Mason. He has his back to me and his upper half is bare and dripping with sweat. The redhead next to him is naked save for the tiniest red thong I’ve ever seen, and her eyes flick to me as she rakes her nails down Mason’s back before sliding her fingers into the backside of the tight, black leather pants he’s wearing. Mason doesn’t react to her touch, most likely because his attention is riveted on the other woman in the room.
My eyes swing to the woman—an Asian beauty with small breasts and a breathtaking face—and see the stark hunger and arousal in her expression. She’s completely naked and standing on the platform with the three sides I asked him about during my tour the day before. It looks no different than yesterday from what I can see. The middle partition is still covered in that curious shiny black surface and the two sides that would provide privacy are standing open.
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