Chapter 88

I reach over and brush his hardening cock with my little finger.

“It’s been a horrible day. How about we go inside, get naked, and help each other forget?”

His eyes burn blue.

“I think that’s an incredibly good idea.”

The heat in his voice wets me in all the right places.

Reluctantly, I pull away and open the car door.

“In that case, sir, follow me.”

We get out, and I take his hand, cross the dock barrier, and lead him to the yacht. There’s a small permanently attached gangway that meets a door on the deck. I’ve been in port enough times to know the routine, so I take charge and run it myself.

I step aboard carefully—the deck can be slippery—look around, see the man… and scream.

Marcus is in front of me before the echo dies.

My breath stutters, my pulse races, and I’m ready to bolt. But I don’t. The fear ebbs.

The man isn’t a paparazzo. In fact, he’s not even an intruder—or at least not the kind I expected.

This