I tucked my dick back into my swimmers and fell onto the seat beside him, half leaning on him, our bodies touching from shoulder to foot. Feeling a little drunk and a lot brazen, I slung my leg over his thigh and offered him the bottle of tequila.

He put his hand up and let it fall heavily on my thigh. “No thanks. I’ve had enough.”

“I probably have too,” I admitted. “And I don’t have any more lemon up here, and I’ve done you, so I’m all out of things to suck. Unless you’re good to go again.”

He barked out a laugh and pulled up his swimmers, tucking himself away. “Not immediately, no.”

It wasn’t a hard no. I sighed happily. “Today has been incredible. Not just tonight and not my amazing dick sucking skills, or yours I might add, but the whole day.” My words were getting a little slurred. “I’m considering defecting. Kinda like The Hunt for Red October, but instead of having Russians, submarines, and Sean Connery, we have Aussies, yachts, and you.”

He patted my leg. “If this was like The Hunt for Red October and you were defecting, you’d be Sean Connery.”

“Shit. Well, okay. You are quite correct,” I said in the best Sean Connery accent ever.

He laughed. “Okay, that was bad. You sounded like Billy Connolly trying to do an Australian accent.”

I squinted one eye at him, trying to focus. “How come you’re not drunk?”

“I’m used to Alquimia.”

I held up the bottle. “It’s good tequila.”

Smiling, he took the bottle and stood up, then he took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “You need to be in bed.”

I slid my hand around his back, pulling us flush together, and gripped his arse. “Thought you’d never offer.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t offering.”

“’S probably just as well,” I said. “I’m a little drunk.”

“Just a little?” He was still smiling at me.

“I do accept rainchecks though.”

He helped me down the stairs, then into my room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, you will,” I replied, aiming for my bed. I stopped, remembering I was still wearing swimmers. “Oops, these are not pyjamas.” I pulled them down and stepped out of them, letting Foster get a good look at me completely naked. He’d just had my dick in his mouth, so I figured we were past modesty. And look at me, he did. Smiling, I knelt on the bed, aimed my head toward the pillow, and fell forward.

“That’s not pyjamas either,” he said. He sounded a little gruff, or maybe I was just drunk.

I opened my eyes to see him still standing at the door watching me, so I rubbed my arse cheek. “If you want to fuck me, I won’t stop you. In fact, just having a dick in my arse gets me off.”

He stepped toward the bed and I went warm all over, thinking he was going to do what I wanted. He could so easily kneel on the bed, straddle me, pull down his shorts, and bury himself inside me. Instead, he pulled the blanket over me. “Goodnight, Stuart,” he said, walking out and closing the door behind him.

“Party pooper,” I mumbled, but he was already gone.

I cracked one eye open, saw that it was daylight, and ran a manual checklist over my body. Stomach: okay. Head: okay. Confident I’d survived relatively unscathed, I sat up and did another stocktake.

Even with the gentle rocking of the boat, I actually felt half decent. I looked down at myself, saw I was naked as the day I was born, and I groaned. Then I remembered stripping in front of Foster and offering him my arse. Which he’d declined… but I was drunk. Damn him and his upstanding morals.

I sighed and scrubbed my hands over my face, resigned to apologising to him, and then I remembered the blowjobs we’d exchanged on deck last night. I smiled as I remembered the look on his face, how he sounded, how he tasted…

I rolled out of bed, found my Speedos on the floor and pulled them on. I adjusted my dick, which was half a hard-on, half a piss-on, relieved myself in my bathroom, brushed my teeth, and freshened up. It wasn’t enough to wake me up, and all I really wanted to do was dive off the back of the yacht.

I opened my door to find the cabin empty and headed to the cockpit. Foster was lying across the bench seat reading something on his iPad, but he sat up when he saw me. “Oh, here he is. Good morning! How are you feeling?”

“Me: one. Tequila: zero. Except I don’t know what time it is, and if I don’t dive into the water right this second, I’ll need to re-evaluate those statistics.”

He laughed and waved his hand toward the ocean. “Be my guest. I’ll get you some breakfast.” When I got to the back, just before I dived in, he said, “Oh, and Stuart?”

I turned to face him. “Yeah?”

“It’s seven fifteen.” Then he looked me over from head to foot and back up again. “And I’m glad to see you forgot where the rest of your wardrobe is.”

I looked down and readjusted my dick, more for his benefit than mine. “You’re welcome.”

His laughter was the last thing I heard before I went headfirst into the water. It was cool, fresh, and everything I needed. I could feel it fixing me before I even broke the surface. There truly was something medicinal about saltwater. I floated on my back for a while, enjoying the sun on my face and the way the water lapped at my ears, and by the time I climbed the ladder and boarded the yacht, I felt great.

Foster came back up into the cockpit as I was drying off. He held a plate and a cup of coffee. “For you.”

My stomach growled like it was trying to eat its way out of my body. “Oh my God, is that a bacon and egg sandwich?”

“Sure is. Figured you might appreciate the grease, salt, and protein.”

I took the plate and raised one eyebrow, leaving the protein jokes unsaid. From the way he kind of blushed, I didn’t have to say it. But I was glad things between us weren’t awkward. “How long have you been up?” I asked, taking the coffee he offered and sipping it.

“Since six.”

“Sorry about last night,” I said, getting it out in the open first up.

He flinched a little before he schooled his reaction. “Which part?”

“Stripping naked in front of you and inviting you to fuck me,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. It was absolutely divine. “Oh my God, this is good,” I mumbled with a mouthful of food. Once I swallowed it down, I added, “The offer still stands, just so you know, but I shouldn’t have put you in that position. Oh, and I’m not apologising for the whole tequila lick, sip, sucking dick thing because I’m not sorry that happened. At all.”

His smile became a chuckle, his cheeks pink. I think my forthrightness surprised him. “I’m not sorry either. As long as you’re okay with it.”

I washed a quick bite down with coffee. “I’m very okay with what happened last night, and I’ll be happy with it happening every night. Or day. But me stripping and planting myself in bed and saying what I said was a bit out of line. So I’m sorry.”

He nodded slowly, and it looked like he was trying not to smile. “It was… informative.”

I took another bite and shrugged as I chewed. “And it was also true.”

Now he laughed, but he changed the topic. “How’s your breakfast?”

“Amazing. Just what I needed. Between the bacon, caffeine, and a quick dip in the ocean, I feel great.”

“Good.”

“What’re our plans for today?” I asked, finishing my sandwich.

“I’ve put through an order to be picked up from Port Douglas the day after tomorrow, so we’ll have to head further north at some point. But what we do in the meantime is up to you. What did you want to do?”

“Swimming, snorkelling, sunbaking, maybe a nap.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then after we’ve dropped anchor tonight, we can do more shots of tequila.”

He let his head fall back and groaned. “We’ll run out of lemons at this rate.”

“That’s okay. As long as we have the lick and sip sorted out, we can find something else to suck.”

He covered his face with his hands and mumbled, “You have no shame.”

“None.” I drained my coffee. “And from the look of that smile you’re trying to hide, I think you don’t mind one bit.”

He let his hands fall away and gave me a scorching look. “I thought it was pretty obvious last night that I didn’t mind one bit.”

I chuckled, but I knew what was coming. “And here comes the but…”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“The part where you say, ‘It was fun and all, but it can’t happen again.’”

He made a face and looked out over the water. “There was no but. Not from me. Although it should be said that I shouldn’t be fraternising with clients, but I think we’re past that. But,” he said the word slowly. “I won’t push. If you say no more, then there’s no more.”

Hell fucking yes.

I fought a smile. “I’m not sure how to say that,” I pretended to concentrate really hard, “Nnnnnnoooooo mmm… How did you say that again?”

He smirked and sounded it out slowly. “No more.”

I tried again. “Nnnnoooo mmmm…” I shook my head. “Just can’t seem to get my mouth around it.”

He rolled his eyes, grinned, and stood up. “I have some work to do. I’ll leave you to your sunbaking or whatever you want to do first.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” I said, standing up in front of him. “I’m going to need help with the sunscreen again.” I gave him a waggle of my eyebrows. “If that’s okay.”

He chewed on the inside of his lip and stared at me for a long second. “Can’t have you getting sunburnt now, can we?”

I shook my head slowly. “Nope. And later, before you join me for a swim and snorkel, I can return the favour.”

He made a low grunting sound that curled low in my belly, before disappearing into the cabin and coming back up with sunscreen. I figured if I was being all flirty and suggestive, I may as well play hard. “How do you want me?” I asked, turning to kneel on the bench seat with my hands up on the deck. I looked over my shoulder to find him smiling and shaking his head, so I stuck my arse out a little more. “Like this?”

“You are trouble,” he said, pouring sunscreen into his hand. He smeared his palm across my shoulder and down my back, hard and sure, and just as I lowered my Speedos down my arse a little, another boat came puttering around the atoll. “Oh, what a shame,” he said sarcastically. “Prying eyes make for good behaviour.”

I chuckled. “Or an appreciative audience.”

He laughed again but didn’t say anything more; he just rubbed cream into my back and when he was finished, he leaned in close, pressed himself against my arse and said, “All done.”

Hot pleasure sank through to my balls, but he stepped away and laughed when I groaned. “You’re a cruel man,” I called out as he went down into the cabin. His laughter echoed up at me.

“You give as good as you get,” he yelled back.

I readjusted my cock and groaned again. But I couldn’t be mad. I’d spent two days teasing him. Hell, I’d just knelt on the seat and stuck my arse out at him. I grabbed my towel and went up to the deck on the front of the yacht and sprawled out. It was hot already. Barely eight-thirty in the morning and the sun was scorching.

Considering there were other boats around, I couldn’t sunbathe naked, so I pulled my Speedos up my arse crack to expose my cheeks to the sun. I pulled them down at the top a little, making the fabric as small as I could, then spread my arms out and closed my eyes.

I could have easily fallen asleep, and maybe I did doze a bit. It was relaxing as hell, perfect in every way. My real life in Brisbane was just a thousand kilometres away—it may as well have been on a different planet.

I could forget about the pressure, the deadlines, the budgets, the interest rates, the global economy, the stress. I could feel the sun working its magic, dosing me up with vitamin D. That made me snort. With a bit of luck, I’d be getting a different kind of vitamin D later tonight.

I rolled over to sun my stomach and again, pushed my swimmers down to get some colour over my tan line. Then something Foster said came back to me.

We were stopping at Port Douglas, and I had a day tour booked to go into the Daintree National Park. When I’d booked the holiday, I figured a day hiking on solid ground through the world acclaimed rainforest, with Jason, would be a nice change from sailing.

Now I’d be going alone, which wasn’t all bad, though I had to wonder if Foster wanted to join me. It was booked and paid for after all, for two people. Would he think I was crazy? Pushy? Clingy?

Lonely?

I sighed.

I didn’t want to be overbearing in any way, and I had no doubt he had plenty to do on the mainland without playing babysitter to me. But who knew… maybe he never got the chance to go sightseeing because he was always busy or maybe because he was never asked if he wanted to join in. And it was just the two of us. It wasn’t like he had anyone else to look after. Plus, he clearly wasn’t opposed to spending time with me.

Well, not physically anyway. He was all for sex for as long as I was. It was up to me to say no, which was never going to happen.

He was hot as hell, had a gorgeous dick, strong hands, and a talented mouth.

God, his tongue, his tongue…

Just thinking about his mouth had me getting all hot and bothered again, and it had nothing to do with the summer sun. So, I took my towel back to the stern, dropped it by the ladder, and dived into the water.

It was a blue I couldn’t quite identify. I think the word cerulean probably covered it but still didn’t do it justice. The reef was so pretty, so beautiful. I truly understood why Foster chose to come here when he walked away from the rat race.

If I ever had the balls to do that, this is where I’d come too.

That realisation—that I would never have the guts to do what he did, that I was bound to the life I had back home—left a heaviness in my chest that startled me. It was a sinking feeling that squeezed the air out of my lungs, which wouldn’t have been so bad if I was on dry land. But I wasn’t. I was swimming by myself in the open ocean. I swam back to the yacht before the squeezing got any worse, before the heaviness dragged me under. I grabbed hold of the ladder and caught my breath, grateful Foster wasn’t out here with me.

Was that a panic attack? Or the beginning of one?

Jesus.

I did as my doctor had taught me. Deep breaths, repeated I am in control on a loop through my mind a few times, and slowly climbed out of the water. I’d had moments like that before, but never when I was in the water. The crushing feeling I could barely manage when breathing oxygen became a whole different game when not on dry land.

I tied my towel around my waist, sat on the back of the yacht with my feet in the water taking calming breaths until I felt the squeezing recede. I was fine. I was safe. I was in complete control. I could hear Foster talking to someone on the radio, confirming a mooring by the sound of it, and his voice helped calm me.

Or maybe knowing I wasn’t alone calmed me.

Because back home, even surrounded by hundreds of people, associates, colleagues, I was always alone. But out here I wasn’t. It was quite ironic that in the open vastness of the Coral Sea and the Pacific Ocean, I’d never felt more not-alone.

I shook my head and let out an almighty breath, stood up, and approached the cabin. Foster was on his radio, a clipboard in hand, checking off some list, and he gave me a surprised smile. He clearly wasn’t expecting to see me so soon. I clapped my hand on his shoulder to acknowledge him, but I walked straight into my room and closed the door.

I showered and hung my swimmers over the rail to dry, pulled on some underpants, and crawled back onto my bed. I just needed some space and time to get my head around what had just happened. A niggling thought in the back of my mind told me I should call my doctor and tell her I’d had an episode while swimming alone in the ocean; I could have found myself in real trouble if I hadn’t been so close to the yacht. Maybe that was a little over dramatic and I was completely over-reacting. Or maybe it was so close to the truth it scared me.

I rolled over and found my phone but couldn’t bring myself to switch it on. I dreaded the hundreds of emails, missed calls, text messages and voice messages that would no doubt bombard me as soon as I turned it on.

Instead, I slid my phone back onto the bedside table, pulled the sheet up over my hips, and closed my eyes.

A soft knock on the door sometime later woke me. A little drowsy, I looked up to see Foster poke his head through the doorway. “You good?”

I sat up. “Yeah.” My voice was rough and I scrubbed a hand over my face and through my hair.

“Your hangover must have snuck up on you,” he said, but there was concern in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m all right,” I replied. I looked down then to see the sheet was covering most of me, though it was very clear I was wearing red briefs and nothing else. “What time is it?”

“Midday.” He opened the door fully now and leaned against the jamb. “I just thought I’d check to see if you were okay. You looked a little pale when you came in. You’ve got some colour now though.”

“Yeah, I feel good now,” I said, not openly admitting to feeling off before. “What’s for lunch? Need me to help you with it?” I scooted off the bed and stood there, wearing nothing but underpants.

Foster gave me a once over and smirked when he met my eyes. “Red Calvins today? I’m not exactly disappointed, but I was getting used to the white Speedos.”

I found myself smiling at him. “I rinsed them in fresh water. But don’t fret. They’ll be back on later. Or I could just wear these all day.” I looked down at myself.

He smiled as though he rather liked that idea. “Oh. Your lunch is ready.” He turned and went back to the galley, and I reluctantly pulled on some shorts. When he saw me, or rather, when he saw I actually had clothes on, he did a double take.

“Disappointed?” I asked.

He handed me a plate. “Maybe.”

“You can take them off me later.” I looked at what he’d made us for lunch. “This looks really good.”

“Taco salad. It’s not exactly healthy, but it has lettuce.”

I inspected my plate. “And beans and tomatoes and cheese. It totally counts. And exactly what I feel like, thanks.”

“I thought you might have been a little hungover…” He studied me for a second. “Nothing like tacos to fix you right up.”

“You want a water?” I asked, opening the fridge with my free hand. I handed him a bottle of water, then took one for myself. We went up to the cockpit and sat on the bench seat. I looked out across the reef. “Do you ever get sick of that view?”

Foster laughed and shoved a forkful of tortilla chip and salsa in his mouth. “Never.”

“Get sick of me asking you that?”

He snorted and chewed his mouthful. “Nope.”

“It’s bloody hot today though.” I could already feel sweat on my brow, running down my back. “Is it going to storm or something?”

Foster glanced up at the very blue, very cloudless sky, then looked at me like I was mad. “It’s just humid. You sure you feel okay?”

I shovelled a huge mouthful of salad into my mouth, taking some time to chew and answer. “I feel pretty good. Just a bit tired still. Nothing a swim and another nap and a few shots of tequila won’t fix.”

Foster laughed as he ate, then nodded to my water. “Just make sure you stay hydrated.”

“Yes, Dad.”

His smile made his eyes gleam like sapphires. “I’m not old enough to be anyone’s dad, let alone yours.”

“Oh, come on, you’re a smoking hot daddy.”

He burst out laughing, and I decided right there that I needed to hear that sound a whole lot more. “Well, they don’t call me that to my face.”

I chuckled and we finished our lunches in companionable silence. It was nice. Just us, the entire Great Barrier Reef, miles of ocean, and several other boats dotted around us. I drank half the bottle of water in one go, realising maybe I was a little more dehydrated than I realised. “Tell me, what will you do while I’m on the rainforest tour?”

He shrugged. “I’ll stay on board.”

“Doing what?”

“Cleaning, restocking, grab some fresh food.”

“Don’t forget more lemons.”

He cleared his throat, trying not to smile. “And limes.”

Now it was me who burst out laughing. I nudged his foot with mine. “If you want to chase your tacos with a shot or two, I’ll happily immerse myself in the ocean so you have some salt to lick.”

He smiled but gave a small shake of his head. “One mustn’t swim directly after eating. Water safety, one-on-one.”

“Well, I’m all for one-on-one.”

He took my plate. “I’ll clean up after lunch. You take it easy.” As he went down the stairs, he said, “And you can’t swim in those shorts.”

By the time he came back up, I was lying down on the bench seat with my shorts hanging over the steering wheel. My red Calvin briefs would pass as swimmers to any passing boat. Foster baulked when he saw me but soon smiled. “That’s not really what I meant.”

I closed my eyes to the sun. “But you don’t mind.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. I could feel his eyes on me, like warm fingers instead of the sun. “If we’re going swimming or snorkelling, I’ll need some help with sunscreen. If that’s okay.”

I opened my eyes, and yep, there he was staring at me with the sunscreen in his hand. “We must be sun-smart, mustn’t we?”

He gave me a sly smile. “We must.”

He tossed the sunscreen to me and peeled off his shirt, laying it on top of my shorts over the wheel. I looked pointedly at his shorts. “And you can’t swim in those.”

He chuckled, and surprising me, he undid the button and fly and pulled his shorts down. He stepped out of them, standing there wearing nothing but black briefs. His bulge hung snug in the material; his body saw more sun than he let on. “I think you sunbake naked.”

He laughed. “Not when I have clients on board.”

“So if I go swim for a bit, will you strip completely naked and lie down on the deck?”

He snorted out a laugh and looked over at the closest boat. “Pretty sure there’s laws against it.”

“There are no laws against being naked on private property.”

“It’s not the nakedness they’d mind,” he said, low and delicious. “It’s how it would end when you came back from your swim. On the deck. In full view.”

I stood up and poured sunscreen onto my palm, standing in front of him. I was pretty sure he had a semi. I stepped around him and rubbed his shoulders with the sun cream, probably standing closer than was completely necessary. “Sounds like you’ve given that some thought,” I murmured. “Any preferences?”

He huffed out a laugh and leaned into my hand. I rubbed his shoulders, down to his lower back, then walked around to his front, making sure he was covered. Yep, he definitely had a semi. “I’m not one for… exhibitionism.”

I rubbed sunscreen over his chest, down his arms, over his abs, carefully watching what I was doing and enjoying him watch me do it. Then when I rubbed a little lower, down to the elastic of his briefs, I watched his eyes instead. “I can wait for the sun to go down.” My gaze fell to his lips, then back to his eyes. And man, there was fire in them now. I leaned in just enough to speak against his lips. “Come swimming with me. I want to be able to lick the salt off your body.”

His breath caught and his eyes burned with want. “You enjoy this game, don’t you?”

“What game is that?”

“The chase. Being relentless until you get what you want.”

“I’m good at it.”

“Yes, you are.”

“But I don’t always get what I want, when I want it,” I said, my lips almost brushing his. “Because right now I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Why don’t you?” he breathed the words.

“Because you said we need to head north today.” I took a step back and smiled as he almost fell forward. “And if we start anything now, we won’t be going anywhere.”

He shook his head, breathless. The distance between us, barely a metre, seemed to give him enough clarity. “You’re probably right.”

“I still want you to swim with me though.” I handed him the sunscreen and turned my back to him.

He smeared sun cream over my back, and his voice was warm on my shoulder. “Why’s that?”

I could hardly tell him the real reason, that I’d almost had a panic attack in the water before and I was kind of freaked out by it. “Because I don’t want you jerking off up here without me.”

He laughed. “Is it possible to die from blue balls?”

I chuckled. “I think it might be. But don’t worry, if you pass out, I’ll be sure to give you mouth to… mouth.”

He groaned, and he was now standing so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I knew I was probably taking things too far. I mean, games were fun and all, but I didn’t want to be cruel. So I turned around, took the sunscreen, and poured a little onto my fingertips. I swiped gently across his cheeks, down the bridge of his nose, finishing with a boop on the tip. Then I quickly slathered my face, and when he’d finished rubbing his face, I took his hand and led him to the back of the boat. I could see the ladder was down, so, still holding his hand, I said, “Ready?”

And we jumped.