Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

There was a named hurricane off the coast, just miles away from Bermuda, which was where our next charter was scheduled. Needless to say, our guests canceled, which meant we had twelve days to ourselves with no plans.

Sam was going out of his mind with the idea of almost two weeks without anything to do to occupy him. The fridge was stocked, the yard looked immaculate, we were caught up on laundry, and we'd only been home for one day.

"I gotta get out of here."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Not me, we . Pack your bags like we're going on a charter."

"Are we?"

"Gonna take a little vacation. Skirt around the tip of Florida and hit the West Coast, near Sanibel and Captiva Islands. We should be blocked by most of the winds on that side, and maybe we can enjoy some fishing and snorkeling."

"Should I call the guys?"

"Of course. Did you think I was leaving without them?"

My first thought was that it would be nice if maybe we could, once in a while, but my second thought was followed quickly by thinking of how excited Nicky would be to explore a new island, and how Cass would want to try the fishing over there, and I realized I couldn't leave without them either. I would miss them too much.

Without the added responsibility and stress of working and caring for guests, we were free to relax and be lazy. And I could take all the pictures I wanted, not to mention the sex. After our last charter, it was all I could think about. All the things Sam had yet to teach me that I was desperate to experience.

I was so grateful I'd waited for the right guy—or guys. I was almost certain ninety-eight percent of men didn't have a first experience like I had.

We boarded the Harlowe Two later that evening, and set sail for the West Coast. When we rounded the tip of Florida, or as Sam called it, Florida's cock head, Nicky started up with his nerd-a-thon.

"We're about to cross it!" Nicky squealed.

"Cross what, baby?" Cass asked.

"The dividing line between the Atlantic and the Gulf! It's actually two different colored waters. You can see it clearly in pictures, but I'm not sure if you can see it up close. I guess we'll find out. Should I make a wish or something as we cross over?" he asked excitedly.

"Sure, sweetheart, you can wish for whatever you want." Cass ruffled his wavy hair.

He crossed both fingers and his fucking knees, scrunched his eyes closed, chanting out loud, "I wish to fill my punch card before we get home. I wish to fill my punch card before we get home."

"I don't think it comes true if you say it out loud," I pointed out, just to tease him.

He stuck his tongue out at me. Like a first grader, he stuck his fucking tongue out. I mimicked him, giving as good as I got. For once, instead of working as we sailed, I was sitting on the sunbed with my feet kicked up, a cool drink in my hand.

A private yacht all to myself, well, myself and my sexy lovers—plural. Who had died and left me in charge of someone else's life?

Nicky plopped down between my legs, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck, like a kitten seeking affection.

"Did you remember to put on sunblock?" I asked.

"Yes, ugh, you're worse than my Daddy."

"Well, later, make a point of letting him know you reapplied it, and you might just earn another punch on your stupid card."

"That's a great idea!" He rubbed his bare toes along my calf. "Of course, you could just tell him you saw me doing good deeds, so I get extra punches."

"I could also tell him you're scheming and lying, so you lose some of those punches."

"You're terrible," he pouted, with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're supposed to spoil me; I'm your baby brother."

"We're the same age, cut the bullshit. Also, I told you, I'm fine with cousins, but not brothers. It's too close a relation. Skeeves me the fuck out."

Nicky giggled. He turned and gave me the softest, sweetest kiss that made my dick half-hard.

Then he resettled in my arms. "I love you," he sighed happily.

My heart seized up, pounding painfully, like someone had punched me in the chest. He loved me? I mean, I was fond of him. Maybe crazy about him, but love? In Love? How did you know when you were in love? Was it supposed to be totally obvious? Or was it more subtle, like you had to take a guess?

Nicky was so free with his affection, whereas I was more guarded. Maybe in the house he grew up in, people gave away their affections easily, but not in my house, because apparently, that made you gay, according to my father, the authoritarian on gayness.

I snorted, rolling my eyes, but then realized Nicky might think I was doing so in response to his declaration. I squeezed him tighter, dropping a kiss on his sweaty hair .

"I'm kind of crazy about you too, but don't tell anyone, ‘cause I'm supposed to be a brat. Brats don't get soft on others."

He giggled again. "It'll be our secret."

The best part about this trip was that we didn't have to sleep in the crew quarters, all crammed together in narrow bunks. Instead, we opted for the living room, converting the pull out couch to a huge bed we all fit in easily. We slept with the sliding glass doors pulled open, so we could enjoy the fresh salty breeze on our skin as we lay naked.

Sam steered us around the cock head of the country, and Nicky climbed up to the flybridge to see if he could spot the discoloration in the water from a greater height.

"I can't see it," he pouted, reaching for the binoculars.

"It might have something to do with the water temperature and seasons. Sorry to disappoint you, little one," Sam offered.

"But I am disappointed," he insisted.

I could hear him yelling, his voice carrying on the wind, followed by Sam's. "I know a way to earn a punch on your card. Will that make you feel better?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why don't you drop to your knees and suck this load out of me? My balls are aching."

"Sure! Will you tell my Daddy I did a good deed? "

"I will definitely relay the message," Sam snickered.

That's when everything changed. The sun felt too bright and hot, and the sweat rolling down my neck and chest annoyed me. My drink tasted sour, and I became sick of the smell of the salty air.

But mostly, I was fed up with Nicky's dumb punch card.

I was fed up with his stupid look-at-me-I'm-a-slut-who-acts-little-for-attention routine.

And I was fed up with Sam, who, it seemed, would let just about anyone suck his cock.

And now, I was fed up with being fed up! In a fit of bratty rage, I chucked my drink overboard, glass and all.

It didn't go unnoticed by Sam, who was watching me because apparently, he wanted me to see him get his dick sucked by someone else's mouth.

He crooked his little finger, and I felt the irrational urge to break it off. "Brat, get up on my flybridge, ASAP."

"ASAP," I mimicked in a ridiculous voice as I climbed the ladder.

Nicky peeked around Sam's hip at me, eyes wide, a string of saliva connecting his tongue to Sam's dick. I hoped he choked on it.

"Nicky, baby, excuse me for a minute. Don't move."

He pointed to the cushioned bench behind him, and I plopped my ass down. Instead of sitting beside me, Sam crouched down in front of me, so that we were at eye level.

"Do you want to tell me why you just threw my glass overboard?"

I rolled my eyes instead of answering.

"I see." Sighing, he pushed to his feet and then dropped down next to me on the bench. Sam pulled me onto his lap, and my cheeks heated with embarrassment. This wasn't supposed to be sexy. This was meant to make me feel self-conscious of my behavior, I was sure.

I struggled to slide off his leg, but he held me firm. "Sit still. You want to act like a child, you'll sit on my lap like a child does." For the longest time, he just stared into my eyes, and I refused to look away first. Then he smiled, this cocky little half smile he did that never failed to turn me on. "There's my bratty Mattie. I've missed you. Missed that fire. You've been way too compliant lately."

He liked it when I challenged him? When I mouthed off and acted like a hothead? He certainly never seemed to appreciate it in the past.

"You want to tell me why you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" I shrieked. "Who said anything about being jealous?"

"I'll ask you again. Do you want to tell me why?"

I doubled down on my defiance, mouth zipped tight, eyes glaring.

He touched his forehead to mine so that he could whisper without Nicky hearing. "We slept together. I carried you away from them so that I could have you to myself. I marked you and made you mine. You're my boy, Mattie. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, it means I'm supposed to be the one to suck your dick when you need to unload, not someone else's boy."

"It means," he brushed his fingers through my hair, "that, when you have something to say, you come to me and you say it. If you don't want to be treated like a little, like Nicky, then act like it. Have the balls to tell me what you need and what you want. Otherwise, I can't give it to you. I'm not a goddamn mind reader."

Swallowing the bitter taste of jealousy rising in my throat like bile, I admitted, "I don't like it."

"You don't like what?" he asked.

Lifting my chin higher, I told him, "You sneaking off to do stuff with someone else instead of me."

"I didn't sneak off. You were right fucking there."

I just couldn't say it again, tell him how much I didn't like it. How jealous I was. I felt left out, or like, passed over; like he chose Nicky's mouth over mine. Was it because I had done a terrible job sucking his dick? It was only my second time. How could I learn if he asked someone else instead of me?

"Everything you just said in your head, you should have said out loud to me." I turned my eyes sideways, refusing to meet his stare. "Look at me! I would never belittle you or make you feel bad for speaking your mind and telling me how you feel. Especially if I was the cause of it. Talk to me, Mattie."

Of all the horrors, I felt tears sting my eyes, but fuck if I knew why. Sam swiped them away, which gave me the courage to speak.

"Maybe because this is still new, and I don't know where I stand with you. I don't like feeling left out. Like you favor someone else over me. Like I'm not good enough."

Sam shook his head, showing me instead of telling me I was wrong. He brushed his lips softly over mine, trying to coax my mouth open. I allowed him in, and he slid his tongue inside, caressing mine in a seductive dance. His hands tangled in my hair, and he pulled me close. God, he smelled incredible—coconut sunblock, deodorant, and clean sweat. When he pulled back, his voice sounded husky and rough.

"You're my boy. Say it."

"I'm your boy."

"Say it again."

"I'm your boy," I repeated more insistently.

"That's right. That means I'm always going to choose you first over anyone else. I wish I had known how you would feel so I could have avoided the situation. I never want to make you feel left out. Neither does Nicky. Do you remember what I told you on that beach? About romance and your first time?"

I racked my brain, trying to recall the moment and his words. "You said there were other ways to make someone feel special besides roses and champagne."

"That's right. How about saying that I'm sorry and correcting my actions? Asking for your forgiveness? Does that make you feel special?"

Nodding, I bit my lip. "Yeah, that works."

"But it only works if you communicate with me, right?" I nodded again. "Tell me what you want, what you need."

"I-I want to be included when you play with Nicky. Sir."

"The more the merrier," he smiled. "And if you ever just need attention that belongs only to you?"

"I'll ask for it, sir."

He kissed me again, his lips sealing our promise. "Do you want me to stop right now, or do you want to continue and join us?"

I looked at Nicky, still waiting obediently on his knees, his dick clearly hard, poking at his Speedo like a turtle's head. "I want to continue and join you both."

Sam hugged me tight. "Thank you for being honest with me, Mattie-boy. I'm so impressed with you." He pulled back and smirked. "You owe me a new glass. If you ever chuck them overboard again, I'll get Nicky started on a monologue of how broken glass is dangerous for Marine life," he threatened. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir." I couldn't help but smile now that we'd settled things. The threat of listening to Nicky's monologue was more comical than scary.

"Nicky, you're doing an incredible job, but I think you could improve with a little help," Sam suggested. "Scoot over, sweetheart, and make room for Mattie's mouth."

"Yes, sir!"

I felt terrible for being upset with him. He looked so happy to have me help him. Sam caressed my jaw, looking down at me affectionately.

"You have the prettiest mouth. Love to watch it suck me."

"Mattie has the best mouth," Nicky agreed. "He makes me feel incredible!" I leaned my head against his, as if to say thanks.

Nicky licked the left side, and I worked the right until Sam's cock was coated in saliva. Nicky sucked on his tip while I laved his balls. Sam groaned, his breathing coming faster, harsher as the fire in his belly burned hotter. Nicky backed off, letting me practice taking Sam to the back of my throat. His length gagged me, but he squeezed my jaw, patting it affectionately as my eyes filled with tears.

He liked to see me gag. Just like I enjoyed watching Nicky gag on mine. Something about the desperateness of it, the humiliation, and the fact someone would choose discomfort for your pleasure, just made a dick harden. I popped off to take a deep breath and clear my nose, and Nicky took over, gagging just as prettily as I had. When I joined him again, our mouths sealed together over Sam's tip, our tongues sliding together, tickling the groove on the underside of his cock. He gasped from the sensation, but I refused to let go of Nicky's mouth to give him more. With his hand planted on each of our heads, he stroked his fingers through my hair.

"My beautiful boys, so talented. One sweet as sugar, and the other burns hot as fire."

That was me. I was his flame. He shifted his hips, his body tensing, and his fingers tightened in my hair.

"Going to come. It's all yours, little one. I want you to swallow my load."

Gently, he urged my mouth off his cock, and I was helpless to do anything but watch as Nicky swallowed pulse after pulse of his bittersweet seed.

"Why?" I asked, my voice hoarse from sucking dick.

"Because you'll learn to communicate before you're rewarded. Next time, instead of throwing a fit, you'll get on your knees a lot sooner, won't you? Greedy boys get to watch. Good boys that share and play nice, get a sweet treat."

Fucker. He always had a way of getting the last word, the upper hand, like the Dom he was. The hot-as-fuck, sensibly mature, experienced Dom that he was. The Dom that I was quickly losing my head and my heart over.