Faking It(7)
But what I’d never completely figured out was: How did I exact this revenge? I’d never quite planned that far. I’d dismissed threatening or injuring him in any physical way. When I thought about it, I got angry enough. I just wasn’t that kind of person. Maybe I could ruin him like he ruined my life? Should I get close with him, tear my clothes and cry assault? Sleep with him and cry rape? Technically, neither of these scenarios seemed too difficult to set up, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to go through with having actual sex with him. It didn’t matter how hot he was, I just wasn’t that loose. Besides, he probably had an army of high-priced lawyers that could make issues like that, and maybe even me, disappear. The untouchable rich.
In the end, I decided to settle for honesty. I get him to really like me, open up to me, then make him see exactly what misery he and his kind had inflicted on me. I would make him feel responsible for the death of my father, for my mother abandoning me, for screwing up my life and having me dropped from the place in society that was rightfully mine.
If I really had managed to get him to fall for me already, I could leave him with a broken heart. If he was so cold inside that he could care less, that I was merely a hot piece of ass to him, at least I’d confronted him. I would be another thing he would have to add to his pile of dirty deeds, collecting and festering until he was ready to be judged by his maker.
Tyler
I undid the buttons of my shirt and lay down on the enormous bed, without taking it off, looking up at the finely carved wooden ceiling. It amazed me how much craftsmanship they put into building these incredibly expensive toys. This particular boat was a special order that Hobbs & Son had built less than a decade ago, and then refitted, over ten months, just last year.
It was actually bigger than the yacht I owned but, as I hadn’t seen The Troubadour since we took a family vacation on it when I was thirteen, I could barely even picture it. That vacation wasn’t exactly on my list of top ten memories, either. I was already on my way into that fucked up, hormone induced state of hating the world that every kid goes through, even before my father began shouting and my mom started crying. For five whole days.
Henry informed me that my boat was still in regular use, hence it's being in drydock for maintenance, and it’s at least paying for its upkeep by being rented out to a wealthy clientele, much like Aphrodite. I idly wondered how much I was charging other rich kids to party their money away at sea.
Ada was in the bathroom. The ocean was gently rocking me, and I’d almost managed to name the tune that was being hammered out by D Cash and his two girlfriend’s rhythmic bangs, grunts, and moans in the cabin to the stern of me. But I couldn’t get her face out of my head. The way the sun danced through her golden hair; the way her big blue eyes seemed to smile at me; the way she softly chewed her bottom lip as she listened to other people talk. For some reason, I found her intoxicating.
“What are you thinking about?” I heard Ada ask from the doorway of the en-suite. I sat up on my elbows and looked over at her. She wore a long, sheer beach wrap, open at the front to reveal a tiny black bikini. Her body was amazing and, for a second, all thought of Misty were banished from my mind. I felt that distinct tingling sensation in my dick as my eyes travelled up her shapely legs, over the pathetic scrap of cloth only just hid her sex from the world, across her flat yet supple stomach, lingered on her full, rounded breasts, also just hidden by a narrow strip of material that barely covered her nipples, up to her fierce, striking, and beautiful, face.
“Just you, babe,” I lied again. She smiled and dropped the wrap to the floor. She stood for a second, allowing me to run my eyes over her nearly naked body, then slowly paced toward me. Each movement was smooth and drawn out as she climbed up and crawled along the bed and into my lap, never breaking eye contact with me. She straddled me and pulled my mouth up to meet hers. I could feel the heat of her soft, barely covered pussy as it pushed firmly against my hardening cock. I squeezed my hands under her butt and found that the back of her bikini briefs covered even less than the front. Ada broke off her kiss with a deep gasp as she sexily forced her intimate parts against mine.
“I’ve been waiting for this for too long,” she whispered breathlessly in my ear, holding my head in her small hands. From the other room, we heard the ecstatic cries of D Cash’s girlfriend, Britney, reach some sort of a crescendo before everything went quiet. I looked up at Ada smiling down at me, when sudden, urgent, and loud groans from Ruby, D Cash’s other playmate, rang out across the yacht with a renewed vigor. “Mm-mm,” Ada moaned as she tickled her soft lips lightly along my neck, sending shivers down my arm, “don’t you wish you could be in there? Aren’t they turning you on?” She spoke softly, kissing and biting her way along my ear, toward my jawline. For a second then, despite the tiny electric flicks of pleasure Ada’s touches were sending off along my skin, all I could picture was D Cash’s big black ass bouncing up and down in front of me. It was not an erotic vision.
“Honestly, no,” I smiled, taking in a sharp breath as she ran her tongue along the sinews that led to my shoulder. “But I think I know what you’re getting at.” She smiled and kissed me again, her tongue urgently exploring the inside of my mouth. She pushed the shirt off my shoulders then, in what seemed to be a fluid and practiced move, she reached down and opened my zipper. She started to slide her hand inside my pants. I closed my eyes and felt her delicate fingers expertly find their way past my underwear, over the tip, to finally encircle my firm and slowly throbbing shaft. I couldn’t help the low moan that escaped my mouth as she touched me, gliding her gentle hand up and down my cock as she softly kissed her way down my neck again. She moved her lips suddenly back to my ear.