3
THE CREW WAS FLIRTY and friendly. I spent my first day onboard Oasis with my mouth hanging open. The yacht was more opulent than the rumors. I heard it was owned by a mysterious, Greek billionaire who rarely spends time onboard, unless he’s entertaining for business or pleasure.
But I wasn’t concerned with any of that. Being part of the deck crew, I would get to spend my days outside under the Mediterranean sky.
“What’s your story?”
Ignoring my cute-coworker, I lifted the squeegee in my hand. The jolt of ice-cold water spraying my back had me shrieking as I turned around, picked up the bucket I was dipping my squeegee in and sloshed him.
“Truce?” He asked in a thickly accented voice. I got him good. His shirt was just as soaked as mine.
We both grinned at the same time. “I’m Jessie.” I offered my hand to shake, but he lifted it to his lips instead.
“Andre. It’s very nice to meet you, beautiful Jessie.”
“Yeah, right,” I answered looking down at my average sized chest, muscular legs, and chipped toenail polish.
“Where are you from Andre?”
“A small island off the coast of Greece. How about you, beauty?”
“San Diego.”
“I always wanted a California girl.” He leaned in closer, the smell of his cologne overpowering, even in the sea breeze.
“Did you shower in aftershave this morning?” I asked, cocking out my hip.
“It’s sexy, eh?”
“Not really.”
“See my big muscles?” He lifted an arm, flexing his bicep. I raised my eyebrow, hardly impressed.
“Huh? What do American girls like, eh?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I’m not most girls.”
“No, you aren’t.”
My reply was interrupted by a gruff accent behind me. “The two of you were hired to clean the deck not make a mess of it. Clean this shit up and be dressed in your whites by six. I expect a top-notch crew this season. If you aren’t up to the task, get off my ship. Now.”
I hung my head, ashamed I let myself flirt and have fun when I should’ve been proving myself to be professional. Especially since female deckhands earn such little respect as it is.
I turned around, grabbed a stack of towels and started cleaning up. Not even looking at the dark head bent next to mine as he helped. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I should’ve known better.”
“I’m Greek. It’s my nature to flirt,” he shrugged. My eyes caught his mischievous ones as a lock of hair hung over his brow. He was cute, but not my type. I’m not sure what my type is exactly. I’ve been in love, I think, but never the heart-stopping—I-can’t live-without-you kind.
“Who was that anyway?”
“Stavros. The captain.”
“Crap,” I mumbled.
“Don’t worry, California. Greeks love blondes, especially American ones.”
“You are a flirt.”
“World class.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ve traveled all over the world on yachts like these. But I haven’t been in my home waters in five years. I’m looking forward to this last season.”
“Why is it your last?” He’s older than me, but not even close to thirty. Why would anyone with no ring on their finger leave a job like this?
“My family needs the money I send back, but now my mother’s health isn’t so good, eh?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, California. I saw the world and met many beautiful women. Stick with me; I’ll teach you what I know.”
“It’s okay, thanks. I’m more of a hands-on learner.”
He stopped mopping, dark eyes looking at my hands.
“That came out wrong. Your English is good by the way.”
“Thank you. I started learning at an early age. So, did you leave a boyfriend waiting for you at home?”
“No. And I’m not looking for one either.”
“Ah, California. The magic of the Med might change your mind.”
I stood, stuffing the wet towels into his chest. “Don’t bet on it.”
After we finished cleaning up our water fight, we joined the rest of the deck crew inspecting the jet skis, waterslide, and tender. The other men barely looked at me, as if not having a stick between my legs made me irrelevant. My face burned, and it wasn’t from the sun, but I wanted to prove myself, so I held my temper in check.
Someday. Someday they’ll see, I can do the same things they can and might even be better at it.
“You okay, California?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, for asking.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been doing this for over a decade. I’ll teach you what they won’t even bother to show you… starting with how to tie off a bow line.”
“Thanks, Andre. But I meant what I said about not looking for romance.”
“Message received. Come on, while the rest of them take their smoke break, we will teach ourselves. That’s how you get ahead.”
I followed him up to the bow. I’ve worked on yachts but nothing even close to anything of this size.
He stopped to open a cooler, handing me an iced-water which I gratefully accepted. Andre was kind, light-hearted, and good. He meant what he said about taking me under his wing and helping me. And I felt grateful to have made my first friend on the Med.
After a back-breaking day of getting the yacht prepped for the owner and his guests, I stood in a line with the entire crew. One of the deep-water slips opened in port and the mighty Oasis was able to dock. Stavros, the captain, barely looked at me as he shouted orders to tie off the bow and stern lines as he guided the multi-million-dollar vessel in. A scratch in the fiber glass would be costly to fix. I was hoping for a more approachable captain. Some take the deck crew under their wings, even letting us chart course. But this one, I had no doubt would be harsh and firm and I made a note to stay out of his way.
A black SUV drove to the foot of the docks. A tall man stood, helping two giggling blondes out of the back seat.
Typical. I had thought.
But I pasted a smile on my face and stood tall. He stopped to shake hands with every one of the crew, as the two women clung to him, one hanging to each of his arms. I tensed as they reached me, trying to hold in a smirk. It was apparent these women were hookers. But as I stared at the man who stopped before me, I wondered why.
He was handsome; there was no doubt about that. He towered over me. His blue eyes were hard as he gazed down. I shivered wondering why, when he had joked and laughed with the other crew members he just met.
I stuck out my hand for him to shake, but he ignored it. My cheeks turned red. Thankfully, my sunglasses hid the anger and embarrassment in my eyes. He stood for a full minute staring at me hard while the two blondes giggled at my obvious discomfort.
“Jessie Montgomery, I presume?”
I nodded my head. He was British, not Greek. That goes to show most gossip is often wrong.
“If you were smart, you’d quit right now and run back to America.”
I lifted my chin, “I can do my job as well as any man.”
For some reason that made him laugh, as his gaze roamed over my body. But it wasn’t sexual; it seemed more curious.
“You are an American firecracker, eh, poppet?”
“I’m Jessie. And I’m nobody’s poppet.” I leaned forward and whispered so only he could hear. I’d been here before, with a rich man thinking crew members were fair game. I needed to set the tone from the start. I wouldn’t be a playboy’s side piece.
He chuckled, leaned forward and whispered into my hair, “if anyone bothers you, come to me. I’m Alex, by the way.”
I was stunned by his sincerity as he gently squeezed my shoulder before straightening and walking away.
I wasn’t attracted to the devastating Brit. But I was curious why he took such a strange interest in me.
“What was that about?” Andre asked as he walked back onboard to get to work.
“I don’t know. But I’m avoiding him as much as I can.”
“Don’t worry, California. I’ll watch out for you. I’ve seen too many beautiful women destroyed by men like him in this business.”
“Thanks. But stop calling me beautiful. Did you know my High School track record in the 400 still stands? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a tomboy.”
“There’s nothing boyish about you. And you’re a fool if you think every man on this yacht hasn’t noticed.”
My steps faltered, but I knew he was wrong. I was the last girl asked out on the floor at every dance; the one passed over while men walked right by me to get to the leggy brunettes at the bar. These European men probably just found my American accent novel, just like I found Alex’s and Andre’s.
I chalked it up to that and got to work.
The first few weeks I spent on the Oasis, were just like I had hoped. I kept my head down and did my job. Andre kept his word, teaching more every day. It was everything I had dreamed. Although, it was strange that none of the men in the crew, besides Andre, looked me in the eye.
Sexist pigs, I had thought.
But then one night, I realized the garden of Eden floated. It was another insanely gorgeous night on the Med. More stars than I had thought existed lit up the sky. The boat bobbed slowly as long rolling waves rocked it to sleep. It was my turn to check the decks, put away any cushions, and check the anchor line. I also had to drain the hot tub for the night. Splashing and low voices came from that direction, so on instinct, I grabbed fresh towels.
My bare feet were silent as I trod up the stairs to the aft deck.
I paused, shocked at what I saw.
Alex was standing up. He was so tall that his huge, curved cock stood out of the water as one of the blondes he boarded with sucked him greedily.
The other blonde knelt naked in the water behind him. She licked his ass, her tongue darting between his muscled cheeks. He groaned in pleasure, his fists buried in the first girl’s wet hair.
Water sloshed all over the deck as their ministrations caused it to spill over the sides.
His eyes popped open, sensing there was an intruder.
“Care to join, poppet?”
The towels dropped from my hands as he groaned, coming in front of me. The blonde’s throat worked as she swallowed it all and the other one sensing his orgasm—withdrew her face and inserted two fingers into his ass.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
He leaned back against the hot tub without a care in the world as the two women started making out, rubbing each other’s crotches since it was clear he was done.
I averted my eyes, mumbling an apology and walked backward.
“You haven’t been dismissed.” Alex called out authoritatively. “Clean this mess up, and disinfect the tub, little deckhand.” He flicked his wrist and then held it out, “towel.”
“Get it yourself. Cleaning up jizz—was not in my job description.”
“It will be soon,” he chuckled.
“Asshole,” I muttered, walking away.
I marched inside, practically running down the maze of halls until I reached the crew mess.
“California?”
“Hey,” I muttered without even looking over at Alex eating a bowl of cereal.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, besides the orgy I just witnessed in the hot tub, and then Alex had the gall to demand I clean up his…his…,” I couldn’t say it.
Andre breathed hard, “Did he touch you?”
“No. Truthfully, I was more afraid of those blondes, the way they were looking at me while touching each other.”
“Go. Lock yourself in your cabin. I’ll go up there in thirty minutes and do it for you.”
“Thank you, Andre. You’re a good friend.”
“I wish you’d let me be more.”
I stroked a hand down his cheek, and he kissed my palm. “Good night,” I whispered, taking his advice to lock myself in for the night.
The boat was silent for a week after that. Alex holed himself up in the master cabin with different women every other day. He had them ferried back and forth by the crew on the small boat tied off the stern. I kept my head down, swabbed decks and enjoyed the freedom of cruising on the Med.
But my peace was short-lived.
The sound of rotor blades from a helicopter coming toward the yacht made me look up from the deck rail. I shielded my eyes as it came closer, the sleek black chopper hovered overhead, and I dumbly realized it was landing on the helipad on the top deck.
My hair blew back as the roar of the blades gave me chills as it descended above me. My eyes met the man’s who was flying the beast. He wore aviator lenses but somehow, I just knew his gaze was locked on me instead of the spot he was about to land.
His gaze was stronger and more powerful than the aircraft he was flying. I tried to hide or get inside. But the wind from the circling blades had my back pressed against the rail.
I was pinned.
Caught.
Trapped.
And it wasn’t until much later that I learned just how screwed I truly was.