Easy Come (Plaything Book 1)

  I slipped off my bikini. Even the water in his shower felt expensive and luxurious. The man might have grown up with very little, but he sure knew how to live now. Warm, steamy water sprayed at me from every angle, giving me the best cleaning of my life and all with very little effort on my part. I plucked the bottle of body wash from the shelf in the shower and opened it. The scent of Trey's soap came wafting out. I closed my eyes and breathed it in, pretending it was him standing in the shower with me.

  He'd run from the bathroom so quickly, it would have been comical if it hadn't been so damn disappointing. I was sure I wasn't the first woman to stand in this shower, but I was equally sure that I was the first one to stand in it alone. I just needed to stop obsessing about Trey's lack of interest and focus on getting to the heart of my article, which was me and my sexuality.

  It took me a second to figure out the high tech shower, but somehow, I managed to shut down all the water. The towels were like clouds. I wrapped one around me and walked into the bedroom where I'd left my clothes.

  I could hear Trey moving about up on deck and wondered if he was getting ready to head back to the marina. Trey had never put the custom chair back into the panel in the wall, and I decided to satisfy my curiosity a bit. I still had the towel wrapped around me as I sat on the chair and leaned back. It was soft but firm enough for some raunchy fun. The seat was split in two and I could open the two sections by moving my legs apart.

  The playful blue handcuffs dangled above my head, and as I reached up to grab them, my towel fell open and away from my body. Holding the cuffs made my body arch forward off the chair. I leaned my head back and tried to imagine what it would be like to be cuffed to the chair, with Trey between my wide open thighs. My pussy warmed and I grew wet with the thought of his hands and mouth on me, his naked body covering mine on the highly erotic chair. I was sure sex with Trey would be like nothing else I'd ever experienced. Definitely no peanut butter sandwiches involved.

  My eyes stayed closed. Thinking about Trey standing at the captain's helm, shirtless with just his swim trunks, captain's hat and cocky smile, I coasted into a dizzying state of arousal. I moved my hand down over my breasts, imagining it was his hand cupping me and teasing my nipple. My hand continued down to my pussy. With the help of the chair, I spread my thighs wider and slipped my fingers between the folds to my throbbing clit. I badly wished that in my haste to leave Trey's house the night before that I'd had the guts to walk out with the Easy Come, Easy O box he'd given me.

  I arched my back more as my fingers massaged my clit. In my haze, I heard a low groan, that I was sure hadn't come from me.

  I sat up with a start. Trey was standing in the doorway, watching me with a gaze that sent a thrilled shiver through me.

  "Don't stop."

  "No, I can't. I don't want to do this alone." I hopped up off the chair, a feat that wasn't easy with two mobile seat cushions. A nervous laugh fell from my mouth. "Maybe I need to restart this idea with a willing partner." I plucked the towel off the ground. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed the other end of it. The intense heat in his pale eyes seemed to be a mixture of frustration and lust.

  One sharp tug and he yanked me toward him. I slammed right into his hard body, my breasts pressed against his bare chest. I backed off, not sure how to read his expression. He followed my steps. The wall stopped my progress. Trey tossed aside the towel. He pressed his hands against the wall on each side of my head, trapping me in the circle of his arms. He was so close, I could taste the salt on his skin when I licked my bottom lip, a nervous reflex that he watched intently as if I was performing some amazing magic trick with my tongue.

  "What makes you think I wouldn't be a willing partner?" His mouth moved closer to mine, hovering so close I could feel his warm breath on my lips. My pussy and clit were newly awakened by the vision of his powerful arms taking hold of me as he fucked me against the wall.

  I peered up into his face. "I guess I'm just feeling a little confused. Lots of mixed signals."

  He stared down at my lips and then dropped his gaze to my naked body. My body reacted instantly, my nipples puckering to tight buds and moisture pooling in my pussy. This was happening. I wanted him so badly, I had to work hard not to slip down the wall into a whimpering puddle.

  His gaze locked with mine again. "Then maybe I need to untwist some of those mixed signals." His mouth barely grazed mine when an obnoxiously loud boat horn rattled the entire boat.

  It sounded again, breaking the tension and stopping cold whatever was about to happen. I was going to believe that it was a kiss followed by a lot of other wonderful things.

  "Hey, Captain Armstrong!" A voice shouted through a megaphone.

  "Friends of yours?" I asked.

  "Maybe not after today. Fuck," Trey muttered as he dropped his arms and walked out.

  I could hear voices and laughter and music coming from whatever boat had just pulled up next to the Two. I looked around and realized I'd left my t-shirt out on the deck. I pulled my bikini back on and decided to run out and grab it.

  A boat that was comparable in size and luxury to Trey's boat bobbed on the rippling water about ten feet away. There were several guys standing along the railing wearing swim trunks and holding beers. Trey was standing at the railing talking to them about a yacht party.

  I scurried toward the bow. My t-shirt was on the ground beneath the lounge. As I bent down to pick it up, a shrill whistle shot through the air. "Whooee, Trey, how the hell do you always find the hottest women on the planet?" one of the men yelled.

  Trey hadn't noticed me behind him. He turned and his expression darkened when he saw me. Even from where I stood, I could see his jaw tense. His friends, however, were having the opposite reaction.

  "Hey, baby, if you get tired on that boat, you should bring that hot little bikini over here," the guy shouted.

  I gave them a weak wave hello and moved closer to the railing, thinking Trey would introduce me. I wasn't loving the attention but I wasn't hating it either. Trey had accused me of hiding what he'd considered my superpower, my sexuality, so this moment seemed like a good place to try it out. Just for fun. Only fun didn't seem to be on Trey's mind at all.

  He shot me a sideways glance. "Aren't you going to pull on that t-shirt?" His angry tone cut right though me. The humiliation I felt made tears burn my eyes.

  I raced away, practically falling on my face as I pulled the shirt over my head. I got to the bedroom and pulled on my shorts. Then I sat on the trunk, with my arms wrapped around my body, holding myself together. There was no way I should have been so hurt by his admonishment to pull on my shirt, but I couldn't stop the tears. I was feeling a mix of humiliation and anger and hurt, and I wanted to get off the boat so badly, I actually considered making a swim for shore. If the cove weren't lined with rocks and jungle-like vegetation, I might just have done it.

  Trey's footsteps plodded across the deck and down the steps. I quickly wiped away any sign of a tear and took a deep steadying breath, waiting for him to appear in the doorway.

  "Georgie," he started in a much gentler tone, "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to be so harsh. It's just that I—"

  "Take me back to the marina," I said sharply. "Right now."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trey

  Chase was polished like a damn sparkling chandelier when he reached my front door. "You ready? I booked a block of suites at the hotel. I figured we were going to be too wasted to drive home tonight." He stepped inside. "In fact I could use a drink before we even hit the road." He raced past me to the wet bar. "Zane mentioned that things haven't gone too well with that magazine reporter." He stood behind the bar and lifted out a bottle of gin.

  "Hey, mix me one of those too, and lace mine with something that will put me in a coma for the night."

  "Uh oh, so it's going coma bad. I'll put in an extra shot of gin, but I'm all out of coma inducing pills." Chase poured the drinks. He had his black hair slicked back, but he'd d
ecided not to shave, a look that always made the women at a party cling to him.

  Normally, I looked forward to a Plaything party, lots of friends and plenty of beautiful women. But tonight, I would have preferred to stay home alone and wallow in my own arrogant stupidity.

  I stood at the front picture window and stared down at the million dollar view. Sometimes I questioned that phrase ‘million dollar view’. It was a blanket of pretty lights stretched out to the sea but worth a million? Growing up, the bedroom I shared with my brother had a view of the neighbor's house. Kate Brindle, the neighbor girl, was five years older than me and she had a smile that could melt a ten-year-old boy's heart. My bedroom overlooked our postage stamp yard. From my top bunk, on just the right night, when everything fell into place and Kate's blinds were open, I could watch her brush her hair or dance in front of her mirror. That was a million dollar view. We were always so quick to place a monetary value on life's pleasures when the real pleasures in life had no quantitative value. They were priceless. After our day on the water ended with Georgie making it perfectly clear that she never wanted to see my face again, I realized I'd lost something that I could never put a price on.

  Chase walked over and handed me a drink. "Here, this will get you out of that sulky mood. I hate it when you pout."

  "Fuck off." I shot back the drink. "This is all your fault. If you'd be a little more selective about the women you date, I wouldn't be in this sulky mood."

  Chase laughed. "Talk about a convoluted guilt plan. How the hell do I have anything to do with what was going on between you and the reporter? All I did was drop her off at your office. The rest is on you, my friend. If things went south, I guess we can expect some article that makes us all sound like rich assholes who run a lewd company." He shrugged. "Guess that sounds about right."

  I walked over and put down the drink. "I have no idea what she'll write about us but fuck it. Let's go to this damn party. I need to get drunk off my ass and laid. It's the only way I'm going to get my mind off this."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Georgie

  It was a Doris Day marathon and, frankly, coupling that with a batch of cut and bake chocolate chip cookies almost brought me out of my terrible, rotten mood. I plunked down on the couch with my plate of cookies, glass of milk and the remote. Tiger curled up at my feet, also content with the idea of fresh cookies and Doris Day.

  I was only a half hour into "Pillow Talk" where Rock Hudson plays a, yes, notorious playboy, when I started reevaluating everything that had happened in the last few days. I'd started a story about my own sexual revolution, a story prompted by a man well versed in women and sexuality. In the whirlwind of unusual events that followed, I'd somehow fallen for that same man. And, all the while, he had insisted I was going to discover a lot about myself in the process. Well, I had. I was still capable of having a school girl crush on the most popular boy in school, the boy who was only interested in using me for my math notes, or in Trey's case, free publicity for his company.

  That day in the restaurant he had alluded to the fact that I tried to cover up my looks so as to attract less attention. He might have been right in his assessment, but he sure as heck changed his tune when I walked out in front of the other men in my bikini. Talk about a double standard.

  I spent the entire trip back to the marina sitting alone at the bow, not giving him even a glance or a word. He had stood at his helm, dark and brooding, like an angry pirate. A handsome pirate, but an angry one.

  I was relieved to get back in my car and drive away from him, but as I sat on the couch watching Rock Hudson act like a cad and never giving any apologies for it, I suddenly decided that I needed that. I needed an apology. I'd done nothing wrong, and I left feeling so humiliated that those few steps forward I'd taken to find myself had now been erased with some giant steps backward.

  I got up and walked to the beach bag that I'd dropped by the door. I rummaged through it for the invitation. The party was being held in one of the posh hotels downtown, about a thirty minute drive. I'd drive to the party, march straight up to Trey and let him know he was a jerk and that I needed an apology because I didn't do anything wrong. Then I'd march back out and drive home.

  But first, I needed to find something to wear, something that would leave him speechless. That way I could get my scolding in before he had a chance to say anything.

  Tiger lifted his round head from the couch and squinted at me as I walked toward the bedroom. "You'll have to hold the couch down without me, Tiger."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Georgie

  I drove into the parking lot of the hotel and had to quickly pull on my high heels before the valet reached my car. I opted for the black cocktail dress I'd bought for a reporter's award dinner. The tight black jersey bodice was sleeveless with a scooped neckline. The pleated black skirt ended a good six inches above my knees, and it flounced just enough to be flirty when I walked. I'd pinned two long strands of hair back in a rhinestone clip and added my fake diamond earrings to top the look off. It all came together pretty nicely, and I was feeling quite the thing until, on my way up the steps to the hotel’s front door, three women brushed past me looking as if they'd just left a Victoria’s Secret catalog shoot. They were so spectacular, the doorman nearly fell over with a stroke as they approached the glass doors. He also nearly dropped the damn door on me as I shuffled in behind in their glittery shadow.

  I stood in the vast hotel lobby, feeling suddenly very deflated. A hiccough wracked my stomach. I took a deep breath and held it, watching as the trio of spectacular women disappeared around the corner to the ballroom. I pulled out my invitation and was staring at it, thinking I should probably just toss it in the trash and head back home, when a deep voice jarred me from my thoughts.

  "The party is right around the corner." The man looked to be close in age to Trey, but he was slightly smaller with thick dark copper hair and brown eyes. His black and blue sweater hugged what looked like an impressive chest and pair of arms. His hand shot out. "I'm Zane Bostwick, part owner of Plaything. You're a fresh new face. Are you one of the swimsuit models?"

  "Hi, Georgie Dempsey. No. I'm not a model."

  His brows were just a few shades darker than his hair. He was one of those gingers who was anything but ginger. His skin was almost a golden brown, with a few light freckles showing through. "Georgie, why does that sound familiar?" He pointed at me. "You're the reporter that Trey was talking to." He dropped his gaze to my legs and back up. "This explains a lot. Follow me inside, Trey has been in a funk all night. He'll be happy to see you."

  I stopped cold in my tracks thinking that he was going to be anything but happy. "Uh, I'm thinking I might just head back home. It sounds crowded in there, and I don't want to, you know, push the capacity number. Fire department might show up."

  Zane laughed. "Sexy and funny, no wonder Trey is so damn obsessed. Come on. We'll take a chance with the fire department."

  I followed him, reluctantly, and tried to decipher what he'd said about Trey being obsessed but couldn't make sense of it.

  The music was loud enough to shake the walls, but the talking and laughter nearly drowned it out. It was a blur of glittering chandeliers, expensive designer clothes and cocktail glasses.

  Zane led me through the maze of people, but I took hold of his arm to stop him. "You know, I think I'm going to get a drink before I journey into the crowd." I motioned to the bar. "I'm sure I can find Trey on my own."

  "If you're sure." Zane had to speak loudly over the clamor in the room. "Last time I saw him he was at a table in the northeast corner of the room."

  "Thank you."

  Zane walked away. I was somewhat relieved. I considered quickly making a getaway, no longer convinced I had even close to the amount of courage I needed to deliver my lecture. I decided the drive wouldn't be wasted if I tried a few appetizers and a wine spritzer. I headed toward the center of the room where a three story display of food and drinks had been laid
out on shiny blue tablecloths. I picked up a small plate and grabbed a few stuffed mushrooms and a sparkling glass of wine.

  My gaze shot in the direction that Zane had pointed, but there were far too many people in the room to see the northeast corner. The dance floor was packed with people. Many of them already looked solidly drunk. So this was what a Plaything party looked like. Actually, it was exactly what I’d expected, a lot of beautiful, rich people enjoying the excesses of their wealthy lifestyle. I wondered how many were friends and how many were business partners. One thing was for sure, there was no shortage of gorgeous, sophisticated women in Trey's life. I was starting to feel beyond silly for even being there. I needed to go back home to my movie marathon and my cat and either write a story or my resignation letter for the magazine. I was leaning toward the latter. I could manage for a few months without a salary.

  I finished my mushrooms and wine and was devising a plan on how to sneak out a few chocolate strawberries and mini cakes in a napkin when a man came up to the table. He had his long hair tied back in a ponytail with a black bow like a man from the eighteenth century. He was even wearing a white cravat under his black suit. Apparently he was trying to bring back an earlier century, and he was doing an admirable job of it. He looked fairly dashing in the cravat. There was something familiar about his face, but I couldn't figure out where I'd seen him before.

  He looked pointedly at the strawberries. "Have you tried one of those?”

  "No, but I was considering sneaking off with a few in a napkin. I'm not normally a fruit thief, but when something is robed in chocolate, it's much harder to resist."