Faking Forever Ch. 06

We sat on the deck of Mr. York's yacht, heading back to shore after dinner and discussing how Drew's public image could benefit from the services offered by Cox Media, as it pertained to his marketing. The entire night, Drew had done for me what I had done for him at his client dinner, the bragging about me, talking me up, showing Mr. York how well we fit together. At one point, Mr. York put his arm around his wife and Drew mimicked him, pulling me against his side. His body was firm, rigid, as if he kept his physique chiseled beneath those three-piece suits he wore. I found my hand resting across his abs a number of times, feeling their strength through the flimsy material of his button down.

"So tell me how you two met? You were in Ohio for quite a while, weren't you Cici?" Mr. York had a happy grin on his face.

"Well, yes. I went to college there, and got my first internship right after graduation with the marketing department there." Drew readjusted his position and the muscles beneath his shirt tingled my fingertips. I had to get away from him before I regretted letting him touch me like this.

"Funny, story," Drew said, "her brother and I were best friends in college. I would spend a lot of time at his house studying. Cici was very young. We started a habit of picking on her, practical jokes and all. But as we all got older, I knew there was something special about her. It was her senior prom. She got stood up by her date. By that time I was nearing my thirtieth birthday. I looked more like a parent than a student, but she needed a date. That night changed our lives." Drew turned to wink at me.

I hated that night. That memory was seared into my mind. I really asked him to take me so I didn't end up alone, and at the last minute he tried to prank me. I went to prom stag and that's the night I started dating Kyle, who later destroyed me by cheating on me.

I had a hard time faking a smile, especially when Drew winked at me. I pulled away and stood. "Where is the bathroom?" The wine made me sway a bit, or perhaps it was the tilt of the boat on the water as it moved.

"Oh, yes. Through the main cabin there. The third door on the right. It's a hallway. You go past a few doors. One of them is a bathroom. Duck in there. Don't mistake it for the lounge room, and watch you don't accidently fall overboard." Mrs. York's joke wasn't funny but I laughed anyway.

"Just call me Goldie!" My reference to the 90s movie brought a huge round of laughter that lingered in the air as I walked away. At this point, I wished I could fall overboard. I sat there feeling every single breath Drew took for almost forty minutes. Every time I tried to squirm away he tightened his hold on me. It was like he took pleasure in torturing me, only he didn't even realize how much torture it really was. My body responded to him in ways I hated.

I moved through the main cabin toward the doors, but half of what Mrs. York had told me had gone in one ear and out the other. The fancy décor on this yacht probably cost more than twice my salary, and I felt like I was about to soil it with vomit or urine, whichever escaped my body first. I tried a few doors and found one that led onto the catwalk along the side of the yacht. I slammed that door shut.

"Sheesh! Maybe I will end up overboard," I murmured. I pulled another door open and a dark hallway appeared to me. Between my urgency to find the toilet, the alcohol catching up with me, and the rocking of the boat on the waves, I had a hard time stumbling along in the darkness. All I could think about was how irritating it was that the entire night, the only thing my boss wanted to do was talk to Drew.

Drew was supposed to be the eye candy draped over my arm, not the showstopper who stole the spotlight. In my head I reminded myself that I would ride his wave and be better off for it, but it still frustrated me. The boat rocked and tossed me into the wall. I braced myself and remained on my feet but I had to stand there a moment to get my bearings. I didn't remember if I had passed a door or not, but now the urge to pee was worse.

"What the hell! Cici?" Drew hissed at me and I turned around to see him moving toward me in the dark. His silhouette showed how narrow the hall was. His shoulders nearly brushed both walls.

"I'm lost."

"Clearly."

"Shut up."

"Look, you've been out here fifteen minutes. I told them I'd come find you. I thought maybe you really did go overboard."

"Maybe I want to," I snapped. "You talk so much I can't stand to sit next to you another second. And York is all up your ass. I may as well let you have my job."

Drew hooked his arm around my waist and pinned me against the wall as the yacht tilted again. I nearly fell until he steadied me with his embrace.

"Let go of me."

"You're drunk and you can barely walk on this boat."

"I'm..." I swallowed, realizing how close he was. I could feel his body pressing against the length of mine. "I'm not drunk. I'm furious with you always stealing the show."

"Cici, you're being childish." I watched him lick his lips. I felt the swelling in his slacks press against my thigh.

"I'm childish? Who was the thirty-year-old who nearly ruined prom for a girl who got stood up by her date? Hm?" My body tensed. "Who was the thirty-two-year-old who mailed me coal at Christmas time when I didn't come home?"

He leaned into me more firmly with another tilt of the boat. His dick was definitely hard and the ache in my groin matched it. "Who was the jerk who gave me a can of soup for my high school graduation!"

He smelled so amazing. He was so close to me.

"It was supposed to be a kind gesture. It's a family tradition." His lips looked soft and supple as he closed in. My eyes fluttered shut. I felt his hot breath on my face. Everything inside me screamed for his mouth to cover mine. I wanted his tongue to trace my lines, his hands to map my body. Hair rose on my arms. Drew Pratt was going to kiss me.

The Drew Pratt.

The guy I crushed on all through high school even though he was out of my league and twelve years older. That Drew. Right here, hands on my hips, mouth almost touching mine.

"Oh, there you are!" Mrs. York chided. "You kids. Listen, you scared the dickens out of me."

Drew pulled away, but his eyes lingered on mine for a moment. The glint of light reflected across his face flashed with lust and hunger. I'd have sworn he was a predator backing into the shadows as his kill was stolen.

"Bathroom!" I squeaked, suddenly acutely aware that my bladder was going to empty itself on Drew's shoes.

"Oh dear, this way." Mrs. York led me back up the hall past a door. She opened another and flicked a light on and I darted inside, locking myself in. I barely got my slacks down and my ass planted on the tiny toilet before the flood gates burst.

I buried my face in my hands, listening to Drew and my boss's wife chat outside the door. What the hell was wrong with me? Drew Pratt had been nothing but trouble and heartache since the day I met him. Now I had survived two near-death experiences with him. How could I let him get that close to me and why was he pushing every button I had like a friggen' switchboard operator?

I almost screamed at myself for letting my guard down. I'd had too many negative experiences with Drew to believe he was actually interested in me. And this was all just lust anyway. A chemical attraction to him because we were sexually compatible. I could ask myself all day why there was a puddle of body fluid in my panties that wasn't because I had lost control of my bladder, but the truth was, Drew was bad news, and I could not let my guard down again.