6. Mustaf

The sea is calm, with gentle waves lapping against the sides of the ship, the light breaks not even enough to rock my yacht. Dawn is breaking, which means that the fish have only begun to stir, and all other manner of sea creatures have just started to scurry, repeating their daily pattern of survival. This is the time when the sea is at its most peaceful, and normally it would be enough to bring a certain amount of zen into my existence.

Sighing in frustration, I rise from cool Egyptian cotton sheets, intent on getting the day started. I'm frustrated and restless from a lack of sleep, hoping that a day of sailing will be enough to distract me from my thoughts.

"Coffee, black." I bark out the order to the first attendant I see, and he quickly scurries off to carry out my request. Absently toying with the shark tooth on my lucky necklace, I look out at the lightening horizon while I wait for my friends to awaken.

My thoughts are ashore miles away, with a group of human women, and one in particular. A server hands me my breakfast, and the warm brew reminds me of the liquid eyes that captured my attention last night.

Tiger's eye, my mind recalls. Marbles were one of the earliest games I learned, and one of my favorites was the chocolate and umber pieces with a darker slant in the center called Tiger's eye. That's what her eyes reminded me of.

Why am I still thinking about her? Hours later and with coffee in my system, the taste of her mouth still has me feeling intoxicated. I've had a bevy of women, in more places than I can count, and all of them were practically forgotten by the time I vacated whatever building, or surface I left them on.

Yet the memory of my mystery woman lingers, making me lose sleep while dreaming what could have been. Every look, touch, and moment that passed between us last night plays like a series of snapshots behind my eyes– chances I held back on.

Even as my friends stir to join me on deck, I still find myself wondering about the possibilities she held. They're laughing freely as they order breakfast with the crew, while I continue to nurse my coffee, daydreaming about my mystical club hopper.

"Alright, who's at the helm?" Dragan asks, slapping his knees as he stands. The men are already outfitted in open shirts and swim trunks, ready to make the most of our little vacation.

"I'll take a turn," Maui volunteers as he chews. Then he ducks as Fordan lobs an orange at him.

"Nice try, island boy," Fordan quips. "Last time you piloted, we almost ran aground on a sandbar."

"I'll take the helm," I interrupt, before they can really get started. "It'll help me focus anyway." They shoot me curious looks but say nothing and resume their previous conversations.

Their chatter trails around me as we sail along the Maldivian coastline. It's a glorious day, with sunshine, clear skies, and turquoise waters, but my heart and head lay elsewhere. I should be joining in on their jokes and laughter, enjoying soaking up some much-needed sun, yet I can't seem to shake the feeling that I missed out on an incredible possibility last night.

Why didn't she linger? All the women I've shown even the slightest interest in have always lingered, hoping to capitalize on any chance. She was different, though. My instincts told me as much from the moment she moved into my orbit.

Then why didn't I pursue her? It's uncharacteristic of me to pass on an opportunity, whether in business or romance. So what made me hold back? There was something bittersweet about her countenance that spoke to me and told me not to rush. That there was something important here, something beyond a simple flirtation.

"Help! S.O.S! Somebody, anybody!" A high, clear voice manages to cut through the wind, interrupting my wayward thoughts. We've heard nothing but seagulls for the past hour, so all of us are suddenly alert and snapping to attention.

"On it." Dragan moves starboard, while Fordan takes the port side and Maui signals for the crew. All of us are trained in search and rescue, so we're aware of the dangers at sea. After another moment, the signal comes from Dragan and he gestures to the starboard side of the yacht.

Quickly I steer the ship, adjusting course and hearing more voices as we steer closer. Luckily the voice keeps calling out, and I have to shake my head, refocusing on the task at hand. Our guiding voice is feminine and articulate and sounds startling like the woman I've been fantasizing about for the past few hours.

"Tally ho!" Dragan shouts, responding as we draw close. "What's the situation?"

"It's our friend, she's hurt!" a woman calls out from the water's surface as the others drop a rope ladder. "She was stung by a jellyfish while we were diving."

"It's okay, we've got you," Fordan reassures as Dragan dives into the water. He's resurfacing a moment later supporting another coughing woman. I've already cut the engine on the yacht and am lowering the anchor as I spot a nearby pontoon with a couple of other women.

I have to blink a few times, wondering if the sun and lack of sleep are playing tricks on me. The women on the boat look familiar, and sure enough, as the other women climb on board I recognize our new passengers from the night before. Dragan is still protectively carrying the one he pulled to safety, but the other one who called out appears to be fine. Turning to me, her expression morphs into one of shock.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaims, sluicing water out of her hair.

"It's you, too," I return awkwardly, equally gobsmacked. Indeed, it is my goddess from last night, made real again by the light of day.

The lights from the club did not do this woman justice. Her soaked swimsuit might as well be lingerie with the way it plasters to her hourglass figure. Petite yet curvy, with yards of tanned skin on display that has my jaw dropping and my shorts rising, the woman I've spent all night and morning thinking about is standing before me.

My sober eyes reveal she is even more beautiful than I remembered.

"Uh, hi again. I'm Meiko." She gives me a small smile as she introduces herself. "Thank you for coming to our rescue."

"Anytime," I immediately reply. The others are on deck now, and the knowing looks they cast me behind her delicate shoulder remind me that I'm staring. "I'm Mustaf." I cough awkwardly in response.

"Aren't these the ladies from the club?" Maui asks, pulling the other women up the rope ladder. He's all mischievous smiles, while Dragan is hovering over the apparent victim to rinse her leg with vinegar. "I guess it is a small world after all."

"Welcome aboard, ladies," Fordan adds as he helps the last of them up. "Here on the Elora, it's a pleasure to have you."

Looking back over at Meiko, I notice a flush on her cheeks that makes her even more enticing. We all take the time to introduce ourselves, but my eyes remain on her the whole time. Right then and there, I decide that I won't rest until I have this woman, and it will be a pleasure indeed.

It's a simple thing to invite the women for lunch. We steer the ship towards my ocean-side villa, enjoying stimulating conversation and the postcard view the Maldives has to offer. Stories and laughter fill the time, transitioning easily into lunch as the crew serves garudhiya, a fish broth made with local spices, on the patio.

Dragan stays close to Lalaine, the jellyfish victim, the entire time, while I continue to hover beside Meiko. The others, Sandra and Maica, regale us with the story of why they needed to be fished out of the water. Even as we joke and settle, everything seems brighter and more vibrant, and it's easy to identify the cause.

All the women are attractive and stimulating, but none hold my attention like the one who kissed me. I cast another glance in Meiko's direction and find her returning my gaze, before taking another bite.

The way she moans in delight around her food has me wondering about other ways she could use her mouth, and I have to shake my head out of distraction. I don't think my body has responded so viscerally to a woman since I was a teenager, which has me thinking about how I can get us somewhere more private.

"So you all really thought it would be fine to just ditch the tour guide and charter your own boat to go amateur snorkeling?" Maui's eyes glitter in delight.

"Meh, the tour guide was a little too ‘hands-on' for our taste," Sandra replies. "Besides, who goes to the Maldives to stay indoors?"

"That was dangerous to go on your own," Dragan admonishes, with no real heat. He has Lalaine's injured leg propped on his lap and is gripping it protectively. Based on the way she's looking at my friend, I don't think she minds his tone at all.

"I think it's brave to step out of your comfort zone," I add, looking back at Meiko. "You guys were lucky we were close by, though."

"I believe they say bravery and foolishness are two sides of the same coin," she admits sheepishly. "I am sorry that you got hurt though, Lalaine, just because I wanted an adventure."

"In the end, I think we came out okay, though, and made new friends in the process." Lalaine smiles at Dragan as he feeds her another bite.

Meiko gives me another one of those loaded looks from beneath her eyelashes like she did back at the club. That look is equal parts coy and inviting, and it has my body responding instantaneously. "I agree. We were very lucky indeed."

I flash her a confident smirk, resting my hand on her exposed knee. She returns the smile, moving her leg closer as I inch it up her thigh. If she keeps going like this, we'll both be getting lucky before the night is over.