I didn’t think he’d cave so easily. I thought he might fight a bit harder, but no. He dove into the water just by me. His strong, tanned body cut the water like a knife. He surfaced and turned to me, shaking the water from his hair, sultry and hot, and even a little pissed at himself. “Happy now?”

I grinned. “Oh yeah. Water’s nice, don’t you think?”

He stared for a while, then leaned back in the water, bringing his legs up, sunning his chest. “Water’s perfect.”

His eyes were closed and he was smiling, looking relaxed and totally at peace. I envied him that. I envied him a lot of things. I floated like he did, closing my eyes to the sun, warm and dreamlike, and I could have almost fallen asleep if it weren’t for him laughing beside me and splashing water at me.

I started, getting upright, and splashed him back. “What was that for?”

He was grinning and squinted at the sunlight. “You looked too relaxed.”

I grabbed his shoulders and tried to push him under, but he barely budged. He took a hold of my waist, and my legs instinctively went around him. He froze at first, then he relaxed and his eyes glinted with something I hadn’t seen before. I rolled my hips against his chest knowing damn well he could feel my cock, and I leaned down, just about to take my lips with his when a motor sounded close to the yacht.

We turned to see a small boat come around on the other side of us, and Foster was quick to push me off him. He gave me a parting apologetic glance before swimming back to the yacht, then pulled himself up the ladder and waved to the passing boat. I took my time paddling back and hoisted myself up the ladder, not particularly caring that my dick was half-hard. Foster, who now had a towel hanging around his neck, was checking something on one of the screens, so I stood on the back deck and dried my hair.

He glanced over at me, took in my shameless bulge, then met my eyes. He tried not to smile and turned back to the screen. “You know, most people wouldn’t be concerned with covering their hair.”

I glanced down at my barely concealed cock tenting my swimmers, looked back at Foster, and shrugged at him. “I’m not most people. And anyway,” I held my arms out and turned side to side. “I work hard on this body. I’m not hiding it. I’m not used to hiding it.”

Foster straightened up and gave me an appreciative once-over. His smirk grew sly and one eyebrow raised slightly. “Thought you’d wear more suits than anything else.”

“In the office, yes. In the clubs and on weekends, hell no.” I slung the towel over my shoulder, making no attempt to hide my crotch. “Well, shirtless mostly. But I’d love to work on my all-over tan.”

“I, uh,” he started, his gaze darting to the other boat that was now anchoring within waving distance. “I’m not sure they’d appreciate the view.”

I stepped into the cockpit and sat on the long seat, my legs sprawled. “Or they could love it.”

He watched me for a long second, shook his head a little, and turned away. So, we were back to avoiding… Two steps forward, one step back. I didn’t mind. I had eleven more days to play this game.

“So, um, lunch? I could grill some chicken to have with a mango salsa. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. Where my biggest decision is whether to snorkel or sunbathe before or after lunch. Or vice versa.” I sighed and stretched my arm out, maybe flexing my abs a little. “What do you suggest?”

He licked his lips; his voice was gruff and sexy. “It’ll be too hot to lay about in the sun after lunch, so I’d suggest sunbaking before, snorkelling after.”

I smirked and looked him over, head to foot. Was that a bulge in his board shorts? “Will you snorkel with me? I could use a guide in the water. And if you wanted to join me lazing about on the deck in the sun, working on getting rid of tan lines, I wouldn’t mind.”

He barked out a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t.”

I made a point of looking at his dick, then smiled right at him. “Something tells me you wouldn’t mind either.”

Just then, another boat sailed onto the same reef we were on, taking both of our attention. It was like a metaphorical bucket of cold water for Foster; I could see it. His eyes hardened, focused like it reminded him this was his job, not some sex cruise. I sighed as the offending boat stopped on the other side of us, again within waving distance. The soft mutter of voices carried over the breeze. “Is it always so busy out here?”

Foster nodded. He was now holding his towel in front of his groin, kind of casually, but it told me our little flirting game was over. “Yeah, during the day. These guys’ll be gone mid-afternoon.”

“Good.” I frowned. “I kind of liked being out here alone.”

He started. “Oh, we can find another reef if you want? There are plenty, but this little atoll is one of the prettiest.”

I considered saying yes, take us somewhere more secluded, but there was no rush. And the other boats were far enough away, and this atoll was gorgeous. It was no wonder other people wanted to be here too. “No, it’s fine here. They don’t bother me.”

“Okay, good.” He seemed relieved by this. “Just let me know if you want to move on and we will. I um, I’ll make a start on lunch.”

“And I’ll make a start on my tan lines.”

He chuckled and quickly descended the stairs into the cabin, so I took my towel and walked up on deck, around the side, and up to the bow of the yacht. I’d never seen water this clear or this colour before. The ocean floor must have been four metres down, but I swear I could see every grain of white sand. The glare off the water and off the white boat was kind of harsh, and I regretted not thinking to grab my sunnies. I threw my towel out and laid down. The warmth of the boat felt good; the warmth of the sun felt great. I closed my eyes to the glare and lowered my swimmers over my arse, snorting with the realisation that the glare of my white arse cheeks could probably blind someone on a passing boat.

I could get used to this. I briefly wondered if it was called defecting to simply never go back to real life… I wondered who would actually miss me… I wondered how busy my office was at that very second and realised how much I didn’t care. How much I didn’t miss it, surprised me.

I snoozed with a smile.

The tropical sun was baking me, and I could feel it restoring me, refilling my almost-depleted energy levels in ways I didn’t know were possible. In ways I didn’t know I needed. I could feel the stress leaving my body, my muscles relaxing, my mind clearing. And I could also feel my arse burning, so I rolled over and sunned my front, pushing my Speedos down as far as public decency allowed. I considered taking them off completely, but I didn’t fancy Foster getting into trouble should someone report him back to his head office. So I cinched them down a little further, almost tucking my dick down between my legs to reveal as much skin as I could.

Of course, my dick liked being handled, shoved and confined in tight spaces, and started to fill slowly.

I lay back enjoying the languid, sexual sensations that stirred in all the right places. Enjoying the sun, the heat on my skin, the rock of the yacht. It felt like I was being watched, and I wondered if the people on one of the nearby boats were enjoying the view… Until Foster cleared his throat. “Um, sorry to interrupt.”

I opened my eyes, squinting up at him. “Don’t be sorry.”

His lips twisted into a pouty smile. “Lunch is ready.”

I leaned up on my elbows so I could look down my body. Yeah, my dick looked happy to be snug and confined. I spread my thighs a little. “I might dive in to cool off first if that’s okay. I’m working up a sweat.”

Foster’s nostrils flared. “I can see that. In fact, everyone out here can see that.” He waved absently toward the other boats.

I stood and picked up my towel, not fixing my swimmers, not fixing the way my dick was pulling the white fabric downward, revealing neatly trimmed hair and the stalk of my cock. “Like I said, I’m not used to hiding,” I said as I brushed past him. “And if they don’t want to see, they shouldn’t look,” I added as I walked along the side deck to the back of the yacht. I dropped my towel and dove into the water. It was so cool against my heated skin, it took my breath away.

And it fixed the elongating problem in my Speedos too.

It was probably just as well. I was so horny, at this rate I’d be in my room all afternoon jerking off, so the cool water tamping down my libido wasn’t all bad.

I climbed up the ladder, only fixing my swimmers when I picked up my towel. I roughly dried my hair, making it stick up everywhere, no doubt, then tied the towel off around my waist.

Foster watched the whole show. He was particularly fascinated with a bead of water that ran from my nape, over my collarbone, and down my chest. “You know,” he said, licking his lips. “Towels are for drying bodies too, not just hair.”

“I like to let the salt dry on my skin,” I replied as I stepped down into the cockpit. Foster had put the tray of food in the middle of the bench seat. There were two plates full of salad leaves, sliced grilled chicken, topped with a mango salsa. I sat down and picked up a plate. “This looks amazing.”

He was still standing where I’d walked past him, like he was in a trance and my words broke the spell. He shook his head and sat down. “Oh, thanks. Dig in.”

I took a mouthful of everything, and oh, my God. “Which family member do I have to thank for this?”

He shot me a puzzled, amused look. “What?”

“Which family member? The prawn dish was your aunt’s; the salad dressing last night was from your dad. Who’d you steal this one from?”

“No one.” He grinned. “Okay, well, I saw it on some cooking show, but I customised it.”

“Well, you outdid yourself. Holy shit, this is good.”

“Thanks.” He relaxed a little then, smiling as he ate. “How was the water just now?”

“Perfect. Everything here is perfect.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m glad.”

“So, will you come snorkelling with me after?”

He glanced at me quickly before studying his plate. “Maybe.”

I grinned. Now, I was a clear believer in no meaning no and yes meaning yes, and I knew that hesitance always landed squarely on the no side, but damn. That maybe, his maybe, with those smouldering eyes and the way his gaze raked over my body, the way he licked his lips and groaned real quiet, was almost a yes. But it was a hesitant yes, so I would wait for him to make his move.

And it had to come from him.

I’d put my cards on the table. Laid them out for all to see. Hell, I’d basically offered myself up on a freaking platter. I’d clarified if he was single, if he was interested, if he was willing…

He just needed to establish himself as player two in this game.

“So,” he said. “Do you have family?”

I nodded and swallowed my food. “Yep. Mum and Dad, divorced when I was nine. One sister, Dana, two years younger than me.”

“You guys close?” He made a bit of a face, like he knew these were personal questions but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Yeah, I guess. We all still live in Brisbane. Catch up when we can. What about you? I’m guessing with the recipe swaps that you’re all pretty close.”

He chuckled and stabbed some salad with his fork. “Yeah. When I was a kid, my cousins were my best friends. Mum’s got three sisters that she’s close to, so I kind of grew up with four mothers. Mum and Dad have been married forever, and I have one sister and one brother.” He shoved his fork in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “We’re all kind of scattered now, but we still try and call every other week. We have Christmases together no matter where we are in the world.”

“Have they taken advantage of you having the best job in the world and demanded free week-long cruises around the tropics?”

He laughed, making little lines crease at the corners of his eyes that did some weird swooping thing to my belly. “I offered.”

“Did you snorkel with them? Or is it just me who will get special treatment?”

He shoved another forkful of food in his mouth before his smile could become a grin. “I haven’t said I would yet.”

I let my fork slide out slow between my lips. “You will.”

He laughed me off, shaking his head as he finished his lunch. “You know, there’s better snorkelling spots further northeast. I mean, it’s good here, but it depends on what you’re after. Coral or fish.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care, to be honest. I just want to try it.”

“Try it? You’ve never snorkelled before?”

“When I was like ten. Though I don’t think the mechanics of it will have changed too much.”

“Well, no…”

I gave him a sly smile. “But you better come snorkelling with me, just to be sure.”

“You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Not often.”

He put his empty bowl on the tray and sighed. “Then I better get the gear ready.”

I took the tray and headed down to the galley, Foster fast on my heels. “You don’t have to wash up,” he said, looking horrified.

I put the bowls in the sink and gave him a smile. “Are you going to argue with a customer?”

“Stuart,” he tried again. “I cook and clean; you relax. That’s the deal.”

“Well, you cook; I clean. That’s the new deal,” I said. “If you let me cook dinner, then you can wash up.”

“This isn’t… that’s not how… Stuart.”

I matched his tone. “Foster.”

He sighed, and I saw his need to look after me warring with his belief to not argue with a paying client. I kept washing up, ignoring him standing there watching me. “Oh,” I added as if I just remembered. “I’ll need you to help with some sunscreen before I go back in the water.”

He half sighed, half growled. “You’re kind of infuriating, you know that?”

I nodded brightly. “Yep. I’m a lot of things. Infuriating is just one of my many talents.”

He rolled his eyes and walked up the stairs, presumably before he said something he probably shouldn’t say to a client. I chuckled as I finished washing up, and by the time Foster came back into the cabin, I had everything dried and put away too.

He looked at the tidy kitchen as though it pained him to see it. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“You’re very welcome.”

He chewed his bottom lip and waved his hand to the stairs. “I have all the gear ready up on deck, so whenever you’re ready…”

I grinned at him. “Oh, I’m always ready. Let me just grab my sunscreen.”