The Clarkes certainly took the saying 'Go big or go home' quite literally. From their lavish hotels around the globe to their luxury cars and articulate mansions, I was still surprised when I took a step into their state-of-the-art yacht.
The fairly large motor yacht had five cabins that I was told accommodated up to six couples and there were six crew members on board, which included the friendly skipper. Every surface was immaculate, from the exquisite wooden and modern interior to the sundeck equipped with a pool. Apart from the saloon, sky lounge, and outdoor lounging area, the yacht came with other water toys that included a jet ski, seabobs, kayaks, e-bikes, water skis, and snorkeling equipment.
After we checked out of our hotel in Monte Carlo, we had breakfast and went a little sightseeing before we boarded the yacht later in the evening. We spent the night on the yacht and had the private chef prepare us a delicious meal as we admired the beautiful ocean from the deck.
When we awoke the next morning, we reached Saint Tropez, a little coastal town in the French Riviera. We docked at the port with many other boats and yachts present, the views from the port showed off the colorful and pretty little peninsula. I wasn't too familiar with St Tropez and it was Mitchell's first visit too but a quick online search told me the place was well known for exclusive beach clubs, billion-dollar yachts, exclusive restaurants, and a fun nightlife scene.
Mitchell and I had breakfast at a beachside café and, much like every meal we shared since the start of our trip, it was absolutely delicious. Thereafter, we visited a popular vineyard and went wine tasting. The twenty-seven hectares of land were inland of the famous Pampalone Beach, the area was tranquil and simply beautiful and not to mention how sweet, smooth, and delectable the wine was. I was never much a fan of rosé but the kind the vineyard produced was too good for words.
I had to admit that even after a late lunch at a restaurant in the cobblestone town, I was still a little tipsy from one too many glasses of wine. Mitchell was a lot sober but that was maybe because I finished whatever little wine he had in his glass. Mitchell took me back to the yacht, wasn't fazed by my drunken seduction attempts, and insisted I sleep before we headed out for dinner.
I eventually fell asleep for a few hours, then woke up in the late evening. Mitchell wasn't in the bedroom when my eyes opened, so after I freshened up, I made my way to the living area space of the yacht and spotted him sprawled out on the L-shaped couch with the TV on.
I let out a yawn as my bare feet trailed on the wooden floors. Mitchell didn't seem to notice me until I squeezed my way next to him on the couch.
Mitchell's attention was immediately on me, he turned off the TV, and shifted to give me space. I snuggled against his chest and he wrapped an arm around me. "If it isn't my favorite drunk ass," Mitchell teased as he pressed a kiss on top of my head.
"Shut up," I playfully slapped his chest and he chuckled, "You treat me like a five-year-old sometimes."
"Don't kid yourself," Mitchell elaborated, "That was not five-year-old behavior."
I chewed on my lip and sheepishly defended myself, "I only sang way too loud but that was on the beach so no one could really hear."
"That was the most innocent thing you did," Mitchell pointed out, "Did you forget when you offered me a blowjob at the restaurant while the waitress was taking our order?"
I, unfortunately, did recall that. At the time, it sounded like a good idea but my now much sober mind was a little embarrassed.
"Well, in my defense she was most likely doing the same thing to you in her mind."
"What?" Mitchell's tone was a little confused, "How do you even come up with that?"
"She was eye-fucking you and if you didn't see it, then you're blind," I dismissed the topic, "Next problem?"
"You groped me in a very... vigorous way," I wasn't sure if he sounded amused or a little scared, "In front of our cabin crew."
My cheeks warmed as the recollection of my drunken antics flashed in my mind.
I behaved a little too inappropriately with Mitchell so I understand why he gave me a timeout and put me to bed.
"And then you called me your sexy sex machine," he concluded something I did not remember.
I looked up into his amused blue eyes, "That's a lie."
He arched one of his thick, dark brows, "Do I lie?"
"Yes," I immediately replied.
Mitchell chuckled and I admired the indents on each of his cheeks, "Okay, I'm exaggerating the last bit but you did almost rip off my shirt and pants."
"Ugh," I groaned and hid my face in his chest that vibrated from his laughter, "What did they put in that wine?"
"Don't blame the wine when you had one too many glasses," he said as he brushed his fingers through my hair.
I sighed, "I forgot what a lightweight I am," I glanced up at Mitchell, "You should've stopped me."
"You don't think I tried?" he retorted with a raise of his brows, "It would've been easier to snatch candy from a baby."
"You make it sound as if I have a drinking problem," I murmured.
"Your words not mine," he mused, which earned him an elbow in the ribs.
Mitchell chuckled and pressed another kiss over my head, "In all seriousness, how could I stop you? You were having a good time and the wine was pretty good."
"Pretty good?" I scoffed, "It was damn good."
"Well," he began in a drawl, "I could've only made that conclusion if a little gremlin didn't keep stealing mine."
I removed my head off his chest and glared up at him through narrowed eyes, "Be careful what you say next."
"Oh," Mitchell's lips twitched at the corners in amusement, "From a wine-hungry gremlin to a horny one... I think I might like this one better."
He cupped my cheek and brought his lips to mine but I pulled back a fraction and stared at him seriously, "Make another move and I will bite you."
His eyes flicked from mine to my lips, "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Mi-" I was cut off when he captured my lips.
We shared a sweet yet passionate kiss. I moved from my spot, got on top of Mitchell, and straddled his lap. Mitchell ran his hands up and down my bare thighs as our kiss deepened; my hands trailed down Mitchell's body until I reached the hemline of his t-shirt and tugged at it but at the same time my stomach grumbled awfully loud.
With one more peck, Mitchell pulled away and grinned at me, "From horny to hungry. Let's get some food in you before you kill everyone on board."
I pouted, wrapped my hands around his neck, licked my lips, and stared into his eyes, "But I'd rather have you in me."
The idea intrigued Mitchell too, with the way he looked at me through dilated pupils, "A very appealing idea but..." His hands trailed up my bare arms and sent a shiver down my spine, "...after dinner."
I raised a brow at him, "What kind of man are you?"
Mitchell was taken aback at my spontaneous question, his brows knitted together and he pulled his head back an inch, "Excuse me?"
"You've rejected me twice today," I pointed out and my tone was a little more bitter than I intended.
"Neither did I nor am I rejecting you," Mitchell coolly clarified, "Only a fool would reject you."
"Clearly you are a fool," I flashed him a humorless, tight-lipped smile.
I pulled away but Mitchell grasped my arm, held me back, and looked at me with a soft gaze, "You were beyond wasted this afternoon, I had to help take off your shoes because you couldn't, and right now you're hungry."
He placed a kiss on my shoulder, "Let me take care of you first and then I'll take care..." he trailed off and his hands crept over the area between my legs, "Of her... all night if I have to."
Like one would a child, I pinched his cheek, "You're exceptional at cheap talk."
Mitchell gripped my wrist and yanked me forward. With a darkened gaze at me, he exerted a little pressure over the area his hand sat. A gasp escaped my lips and I squeezed my thighs together without breaking eye contact as need built between my legs.
My mouth parted with a gasp when Mitchell brought my hand to his lips and nipped my fingertips between his lips. With his eyes focused on mine, he pressed soft kisses over two of my fingers.
"And you're exceptional at reverse psychology," he dropped my hand on my lap as his other exerted more pressure down there, which made me squirm.
"I hate it when you can't keep still," he murmured as he slowly stroked me over my shorts.
I gulped as my breathing picked up and my heart hammered in my chest, "What are you going to do about it?"
He trailed his nose along the length of my neck and, when he reached the sweet spot behind my ear, he kissed me. "I have a few ideas," he murmured between kisses.
"But first," he pulled away and stared into my eyes, "dinner."
He removed his hand, pulled away, and tapped my nose, "Taking a dig at my ego won't work, smartass."
I scowled at him, "Boo, you're boring."
"And you're hungry, which explains all this anger," he teased, which only intensified my glare.
I was about to move away but Mitchell stopped me once more, so I looked at him with a bored expression.
"I have something for you," he said seriously.
"Yes, I know but dinner first, lollipop later," I mused but Mitchell paid no heed to my words. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder and I admired the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he stretched and reached for something on the side pedestal of the couch.
"I got this for you in Monte Carlo," Mitchell mused as he handed me a little gift bag.
I glanced at the deep-red, almost maroon-colored bag and wanted to complain about him spending way too much on another gift when I spotted the gold, cursive writing that spelled out Cartier on the bag.
"Mitch," I drawled but he did not want to hear anything.
"Take it," he insisted.
With a soft huff under my breath, I took the bag and Mitchell stared at me until I took out the square box of the same color as the bag. I undid the lid of the box and took in a breath when I was greeted by a stunning, gold link bracelet.
"Wow," I breathed. "It's beautiful."
Mitchell took the box from me and removed the shiny, delicate piece of jewelry. He ran his fingers over the piece of jewelry and that was when I spotted three little charms on the bracelet.
"I wanted to get you the classic love bracelet with an engraving of our names but when I saw this one in the store, I got a better idea," he explained and picked at the first charm which was of The Eiffel Tower.
"I told you I will get you something in each country we visit," he went on.
"Yeah, but we got those keychains in Monte Carlo," I said, "What was the need for this?"
"Keychains are fine but I wanted to give you something personal, something that would make you remember this trip. So, I will purchase a charm from each country we visit that signifies something."
He ran his index finger over The Eiffel Tower, "This signifies Paris," he then picked at a charm with the number twenty-one, "This will remind you of Monaco, where we played Blackjack."
I smiled at that charm and then he went to the third charm, which was a wine glass," And this one is for St Tropez, where we went wine tasting."
I hated that he spent so much on a bracelet and charms but the thought behind it was way too sweet and swoon-worthy to get mad at him.
Mitchell took my wrist in his hand and easily clasped the bracelet around it. He grinned, took in the beautiful garment that adorned my dainty wrist, and drew circles over my skin with his thumb.
"I love it," I cupped his cheek and his blue-grey eyes bored into mine, "Thank you," I smiled and pressed a tender kiss over his lips.
"Anything for you," he kissed me once more.
**
Mitchell and I shared an intimate and scrumptious dinner under the stars on the deck of the yacht. The chef on board was wonderful at his job and everything he'd prepared thus far was worthy of a five-star restaurant.
The time was around nine pm when we finished dinner and I convinced Mitchell for us to check out the famous nightlife scene in St Tropez. Mitchell wasn't much in the mood and preferred to stay in but I promised we wouldn't be long and continued with our initial night plans when we got back.
"Mila," Mitchell called from our bedroom as I stood in the walk-in closet and changed, "if you're going to take hours to get ready, we might as well not go. It's already ten."
I flat ironed my hair straight and kept my makeup sultry for the evening with nude lips and deep brown smokey eyes. My hair was separated down the middle and curtain bangs framed my face; I puckered my lips as I applied a layer of gloss over and checked myself out one last time.
The metallic brown sequined front draped mini dress sat on my upper thigh but covered the parts it needed to. Spaghetti sleeves that were split with a gold, metal embellishment that donned the face of Medusa trailed to the back in a crisscross pattern. The dress was well-fitted and hugged each of my curves perfectly.
I matched the dress with gold single strap heels and a clutch purse. After I sprayed on perfume, I ran my fingers through my hair once before I turned to leave.
"I'm done," I called and Mitchell was seated with his legs apart, elbows rested on his knees, and attention on the phone between his fingers.
"Finally," he breathed, "I was..." he trailed off when his eyes slowly ran from my legs up to my face.
"Wow," he checked me out once more, stood up, and slowly strode towards me.
Mitchell, as always, looked great. His long legs were covered with black dress pants matched with black leather loafers and instead of a button-down shirt, he kept his look smart and casual with a tucked in well-fitted black polo. As he drew closer, his musky, woodsy scent engulfed me and his eyes stood out from under his thick, dark brows.
"You're..." he breathed and his eyes ran down my body once more, "Gorgeous."
I smiled and openly checked him out, from his tousled hair to his strong physique that the shirt showed off and my eyes remained longer on his strong, toned arms that had just the right amount of protruded veins.
Am I more attracted to him or his hands right now?
"Speak for yourself," I winked with a suggestive grin.
"This dress..." Mitchell ignored my statement and reached for me. He ran his hands up and down my arms, "Is it new?"
I nodded, "Got in LA."
"It's like it was made for you," he stepped closer, "But turn around and put on something else."
Mitchell's compliments and soft tone were like music to my ears but like a vinyl that played way too much, his last words screeched in the back of my mind and I blinked twice to register what he just said.
"¿Perdóneme?" I choked out.
"This dress leaves way too little to the imagination," Mitchell coolly elaborated, "I don't want any fuckers getting ideas when they see you."
"Let me repeat this in a language you understand," I cleared my throat, "Excuse me?"
"Mila," Mitchell took in a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We are going to a nightclub where almost every person will be intoxicated with alcohol, narcotics, and most likely both."
"I can't have you leaving here looking like..." He did a once over, "that."
"Can't have me looking like what exactly?" I kept my tone cool but my eyes narrowed.
"How do I put this lightly?" he mused and stepped closer with his piercing straight into mine, "It wouldn't take me a minute to bend you over and fuck you right now."
My eyes widened at his words and I knew the dress was a little short but it was still classy and elegant – it was the furthest from trashy.
"So, slutty?" I accused him.
"Fuck no!" Mitchell exclaimed, "It's very elegant but there are scavengers out there and call me biased but you look way too sexy for your own good right now."
"Please don't fight me on this and put on something else," he practically pleaded.
Mitchell might've forgotten who he was talking to but I was sure to remind him that I didn't do well with instructions and being told what to do, especially when it came to my dressing.
"I already have one overbearing, patronizing father, I don't need another," I flatly said, "So, no Mitch, I will not put on something else."
Mitchell pursed his lip and his jaw tightened, "Mila."
"Don't throw a temper tantrum with me," I stood my ground, "We are in a relationship but I don't know who you think you are to tell me what to and what not to wear."
Mitchell looked the least pleased but I couldn't care less, he had no right to tell me how to dress. If I was dressed inappropriately, I would've obliged but there was nothing wrong with my outfit.
I turned on my heel to get my purse off the bed but in one swift movement, Mitchell grabbed me and pulled me towards his chest. His hands went around my lower back and mine landed on his chest, he stared down at me with a clenched jaw and angry eyes and I looked back up at him with an unbothered expression.
"I don't know anything about who I am." His hand trailed lower down, over to my butt. "But you are mine and I'll be damned if anyone as much as lays an inappropriate eye on you."
The way he looked at me was a little intimidating and possibly hot but I wasn't going to stand down and he should've known me better than to assume I would.
I looked up into his stormy gaze with doe eyes, "Who'll dare look my way when you're exerting all this... alpha male energy?"
He deeply sighed, "I am not kidding."
"Neither am I," I looked squarely at him, "I should be allowed to wear whatever the hell I want without any fear."
"You and every other woman should too but we live in a fucked-up world and unfortunately there are too many fucking scavengers ready to touch and..." he trailed off and anger flashed in his eyes.
"I get it," I softly said. "But even if I wear jeans or cover myself from head to toe, there are still going to be scavengers."
"Besides, I know I'm safe when I'm with you."
His eyes softened but his rigid jaw and darkened eyes told me he still wasn't pleased. He didn't respond with words, instead, his hand lowered, and in one swift movement, I gasped and his hand was underneath the dress and over my panties.
"See what I mean," he huskily said and he moved his hand over my butt to my core area, "This is too fucking short."
"Mitch," I swallowed and ignored the heat that spread up from where his hand rested to my stomach, "If it makes you happy, I'll be attached to your hip all night but I am not changing."
He gently rubbed me over my panties and my lips parted with raspy breaths, "Or..." He hid his face in my hair and breathed in deeply, "We forget the club, I rip this dress off you and fuck you senseless."
His dirty words brought about a tightening in my core and stomach, his soft touches didn't help my case either but I knew what he attempted. I was not going to give in to his seduction and have him get his way because of his silly overprotective nature.
"Very appealing," I breathed, "but no."
Mitchell stilled and I could virtually feel the frustration through his ragged breaths. He retracted his hand, pulled back, and looked at me angrily.
"What if I say, I don't want to go anymore?" he challenged.
"Fine by me, I'll go without you," I casually responded.
Mitchell took in a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and stared at me bitterly, "You're so fucking stubborn,"
"And you're a little too paranoid," I coolly retorted, "I'm going out with you and it's not as if my boobs and ass are on display, so stop overreacting and let's go."
His lips were in a straight line and he glared at me, "You..." he trailed off and huffed in frustration, "You really do deserve a fucking spanking sometimes."
I flashed him a tight-lipped smile, "I love you too."
Mitchell exhaled, let go of me, and I watched curiously as he walked over to the side pedestal of his side of the bed. He opened the drawer, pulled something out, and as he made his way back to me, I noticed the carton of cigarettes he slipped into his pocket.
Mitchell had an awful habit of smoking. He rarely did it in front of me unless he was really stressed out. Ever since we got together, I hadn't seen him smoke once so I was surprised to see that he even had a pack on him.
"Seriously?" I raised a brow, "Cigarettes?"
His stern, annoyed expression didn't deter when he dryly said, "With you in that dress tonight, I'm going to fucking need it."
I hated that he smoked and wished he would've given up the habit but it seemed like an impossible thing for him to kick.
"Mitch," I began but he put up a hand.
"Don't fight me on this too," he sternly said and his authoritative tone told me to let it go or we faced a fight.
"Fine," I gave in as we made our way out. "But if you end up smelling like that crap by the end of the night, you're sleeping in another bedroom."
Mitchell scoffed and the smug 'as if' expression made me roll my eyes at him.
Mitchell sulked most of the ride to the club but he was still loving somehow, he kept his hand on my leg and when we made our way to the club, his hand was placed on the small of my back as he guided me past the long queue towards the club.
"They know who you are here too?" I asked.
"I made a reservation a few hours ago," he responded and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at his mood.
I glanced at the long queue of people, who were dressed in even less clothing than me, "And they just happened to have a booking open?"
"They reserve VIP rooms for... certain guests," Mitchell replied.
"You mean for people like-"
"Like Clarkes and Brinsons," he glanced at me with a straight face, "Let's not get hypocritical, hmm?"
I rolled my eyes at him, "Stop being so mad and cheer up. We're here and no one dared look our way."
He unwound his shoulders, "I'm not mad just... irritable," he dryly said and after he exchanged a few words with the bouncers outside the entrance, he gripped my hand and led me inside.
I'd visited a good number of clubs with Mitchell and all were very high-end but the one we entered had to be the best. It was filled with people but everyone looked very posh and sophisticated, with designer clothes and lots of bling.
The interior was nothing short of mesmerizing, everything was modern and decorated with mirrors, glass, and flashing lights that constantly changed colors. There were two levels, an upper and a lower, and hues of greens and purples complimented each other and set a sexy and calm ambiance. There appeared to be two separate dance floors, the lower was more packed but upstairs seemed less, where I assumed that was where we headed.
"Downstairs looks more fun," I mused near Mitchell's ear as we surfed through the crowd.
"Don't push it, Mila," he replied snappily.
"I almost forgot about your frequent PMS," I remarked under my breath, "Thanks for the reminder."
Mitchell heard what I said but other than giving me an annoyed look, he reserved his comments. A guy bumped past me and nearly spilled his drink over my dress, he apologized and put up his hand defensively or he wanted to reach for me. I wasn't sure what his intention was but before the guy even touched the air around me, Mitchell immediately stepped between me and the guy.
"Can I help you with something?" he stared down icily at the young man, who appeared intimidated by Mitchell's tall frame.
The guy shook his head, "It's all good," he attempted to look over Mitchell's shoulder towards me but Mitchell moved further to the left and completely blocked me.
"I'm sorry again," the guy mumbled, "I hope I didn't ruin the lady's dress."
"It's all good, now leave," Mitchell coldly told him and the guy didn't need to be told twice before he scurried off.
"Fucking klutz," Mitchell murmured under his breath and switched sides with me so he walked towards the crowds.
"You need to chill," I said to him as we walked up the stairs.
"He was about to fucking touch you," Mitchell turned and looked down at me with an irritable expression, "So, no, I won't chill."
"But he didn't touch me and for all we know, he didn't even have that intention," I calmly said, "Stop being so much on edge. No one is going to bother me, there's at least a hundred other beautiful women here."
Mitchell stared at me with a square jaw, "I don't give a fuck about anyone else other than you so please let me be, I don't want to fight with you."
I sighed and inwardly rolled my eyes but reserved my comment.
I hoped Mitchell would've lightened up, I couldn't believe he was so uptight about a dress I wore. He'd never complained about my clothing choices in the past so I didn't know why he'd started now.
We reached the top floor and were greeted by a tall bouncer; Mitchell showed him his ID card and exchanged a few words before the bouncer let us in with a polite greeting. My eyes scanned the purple-lit VIP room. The area wasn't that big and each booth had a large L-shaped couch with two little square tables in front of the couch with a bottle of champagne, glasses, and red candles. Other than purple lights and the word VIP flashed around the edge room, there was a large, round bar decorated with icy white lights and set on a little platform that had long, silver poles that hung from the ceiling.
Adjacent to the seating area was a private dance floor that was blocked off with what I presumed soundproof glass because other than the slightly louder than average club beat in the background, I couldn't hear what the DJ played.
We made our way to an empty booth but before we reached our seat, we were stopped by a very familiar face that I was quite surprised to see.
"Mitch?" Her eyes were wide and surprise coated her tone, "Of all places in the world, I bump into you here."
"Right back at you," Mitchell's eyes widened in surprise before he let go of my hand and with a small grin, he hugged the short, petite girl.
"Mila, right?" the girl with the short, platinum blonde hair smiled.
I nodded, "It's nice to see you again, Mia."
Mia was not only Mitchell's childhood friend but also the sister of Josh, who dated Kathryn, Mitchell's sister. I'd met her once at the Thanksgiving I spent with the Clarke's. Mia and Mitchell's families went back a long way which made them more like family, Mitchell said that Mia was like an annoying little sister to him.
Mia wolf-whistled, "Don't you look hot," she complimented and then nudged Mitchell with her elbow, "It blows my mind how you managed to score someone like Mila."
"Me too," I agreed with Mia.
"I can't disagree with that." For the first time since we arrived, Mitchell showed off his dimpled smile, took my hand in his again, and kissed my cheek.
"Hey, you guys have to have at least one drink with me and meet my girlfriend," Mia said.
Mitchell hesitated and looked my way to ask if it was alright, I blinked and smiled in response. I had no issue with Mia; in fact, the one time I met her, she was not only funny and laid back, but she was also very nice.
"Um, yeah sure," Mitchell agreed.
Mia waved us over and a part of me was glad that we bumped into a familiar face. It seemed like Mitchell lightened up since both the evident tension on his face and the vein that appeared as if it was going to pop on his neck disappeared.
"Oh, you should know that I also bumped into –" Mia was cut off by another voice.
"No way," a frown grew on my features when another person headed towards us with a smile, "Mitchell?"
I spoke too soon because Mitchell immediately tensed beside me and when I looked up at him, he wore a deep scowl and slowly let go of my hand.
"For fuck's sake," Mitchell mumbled under his breath with his eyes fixated on the person who approached us.
A/N Hi guys! Thank you for reading and still sticking with Mitch and Mila, it means so much.
Any ideas who they bumped into that has Mitch so tensed up? I like to see any of your guesses.
I hope you liked this one, it was a little bit of a filler but I thought after the roses and chocolates, I'd show you a little of Mitchell's possessive and jealous side, the next one ought to get interesting.
Till then,
Be safe,
Tina