First thing in the morning, I meet with two big arms bundled around my naked body. The warmth of a body behind me keeps me conscious enough to not fall sleep again. The memories of last night wash through me, reminding me of how much cherished I have been. Now, cuddled in the arms of the man himself, I realize it wasn't just a dream.
Looking around, I realize we are still in his bedroom. Didn't he say he's not a type of a guy who would invite women to his bed? I'm sure the theory got pretty much screwed last night. The watch on the nightstand tells me it's seven in the morning, way too early for someone who had four orgasms in the row. But who am I to judge, maybe I can get even more from this Greek god behind me.
Speaking of whom, he's fast sleep, deep breath fanning my neck, sending tickles and sanitation down to my core, yet I have no objection, for as long as I can have him just for me, I'm happy.
Slowly lifting his arm, I get up and march to the bathroom with my naked self. The not-so-usual gray tiles with hints of white, two very big sinks on the counter are the first things I'm facing. The tub seems more unreal, the one upstairs can be understandable, but this one seems more silk-stocking and incredible. Observing more, I can see the en-suite bathroom is explaining the meaning of its role as the master bedroom's bathroom,
Turning the shower on, I then step into it and embrace the warmth. Until now I haven't realized how much tired all of my muscles are- slightly sore in some places even. Reaching out for shampoos, I sneak a sniff from the one that seems to be used more and has less, it smells just like him, god, I may buy some of this more in future. Deciding to go with it, I squeeze some on my palm and reach out to massage when two other hands join me. Startled, I turn to face the only person I know is here- Andrew's standing before me with all his naked and glorious with no shame. He smiles down at me as he continues to massage my scalp when I give up.
"Were you planning to sneak out of my arms?" his raspy morning voice rings in my ear.
"Hmm, maybe," I shut my eyes to enjoy the feeling his hands are bringing me.
"Well, then, you might as well enjoy your punishment," I can't tell if he's joking or just wants to play along with me. This man can be so unpredictable.
"Or maybe we could have that surprise of yours and enjoy it,"
A sharp spank on my butt makes me open my eyes and stare up at him with disbelief. He did not just do that, did he?
"Who said you're going to enjoy it as well, for all know, I will be the one enjoying," not being able to say what he means by that, I think of all the possible events with the same story line, but all I can come with is the scary thoughts of him taking me into a BDSM house or whatever they call it and punish me. Although he had said he's not a dominant, I can't trust this man with his sneaky secrets.
"Are you really going to punish me?" The joy from earlier is vanishing instead a serious tone is taking its place. It's not that I'm scared or I don't expect him to punish me, after all, I somehow signed up to this knowing that one way or another this is going to happen. But I'm thinking whether his decision can take a lead of our relationship.
Standing before me, Andrew just looks down at me. Being shorter, I have to look up while the water dropping bothers me, but I can't let go of this moment. With saying nothing, we just stare back at each other, making it a duel for one another. By now the water has washed my hair and body completely, standing under it seems useless. But when it comes down to the answer the unimportance goes away.
"Of course not, I will never harm you, ever," he assures me. For as unsure as I am by his statement, I choose to accept it, for whatever it is. "Now get your beautiful ass out and dress up, we will leave after breakfast," with another slap on my butt, he forces me out of the wet room.
Wrapping the towel, I walk out of his bedroom, with this feeling that I can't wait for his surprise, whatever that might be. I can't tell if the surprise he has for us is going to astonish us, but I know enough, it has something to do with our relationship, obviously.
The closet in our bedroom is still full of clothes and even more, the thought has me if he had ordered in more or not. Finding a white hot pants and stride bow back peplum top matched with black almond toed flats. Knowing choosing underwear is not easy, but since wherever we are heading, I know there would be no underwear on the way back, I grab a simple brief panties and bullet bra. My guts are telling me I should take one more extra pair, just in case if he gets wild.
Just a touch of the blow-dryer and turning my hair into a messy bun, I get so ready for the hot weather of California to hit me in the face. Honestly, the weather is like standing in one-inch distance barbecue.
When I walk down the stairs and turn right to head toward the kitchen, Andrew is already sitting on a bar stool behind the island counter, having his coffee and mine ready with some plates and already going through his phone, how does he manage them all? I'm sure if you work as fast as possible you will not get to this point. Blah, this man is so confusing.
"Hmm, somebody made my favorite breakfast," I compliment the dish of pancakes and strawberries before me, next to them, I can see scrambled eggs and fresh toasts.
"That somebody took notice of what their girl eats and just ordered them,"
"Oh, so you are saying you didn't make this? Huh, I was wondering if you have become a superman or something," the secret has spilled; now I shouldn't be so self-esteem about me, this man is no extraordinary.
"You always seem to get the wrong story around, Laura," he says, not looking at me, just staring blanking straight forward. I stuff some bites of pancakes.
"What are you talking about?"
"You always think of the best situation, always so optimistic. What is it with you thinking of me the best way possible, I'm not good, can't you see?"
That is the problem, apparently. Continuously, in several times, he warned me, telling me that he's not perfect and he has flaws, yet with all said I always fail to understand what he means, I always ignore the facts that he might be right and decide to go against logics. That nobody is perfect, is true, yet no one is that imperfect. Everyone has a price for themselves.
"Why do think so low of yourself, Andrew? What is it with you thinking low of yourself, you are a good man, only you can't see it in yourself?"
"Yeah, only if you knew," he snorts, "I'm not Prince Charming, baby, I'm the Beasts, I'm not the Superman, I'm the Joker," for as serious he is, I can't stop my laughter at bay and I explode.
Letting out a laugh, I get him off guard. The tension of our last serious conversation has long gone with me cracked up with laughter. I don't have time to look at him, but I can sense his serious gaze at me.
Thinking of him being the Beast is good enough to not get things messed up, but at the word of the Joker, I can't keep it in me, the image of him with ruined makeup is priceless. See, when I say this man can be so unexpected, I mean it, he can be so serious or furiously deceptive. I can read his eyes, his thoughts, he's so unbelievable.
"Ok, maybe the Beast, but definitely not a Joker," even mentioning the name of the joker the laughter comes itself. "But why the Beast? Do I look like Bell to you?"
"Well, yes, but that is if you are a Blondie and you have died your hair,"
"Oh no, they are truly natural and I have them for being that way," he takes the cup of coffee out of my hand and places it on the counter before standing up,
"Why is that, you shouldn't feel about your hair, you are beautiful the way you are," I blush as he makes a compliment about me being beautiful.
"Well, much like you I feel so subconscious about myself," he grips tight to my hand and leads me out of the apartment with my bag hanging on my shoulder. "Maybe we are the perfect match," trying to sound more humorous, knowing he wouldn't take my words seriously, but it is the truth and I want nothing but shout that out loud, 'you are what I want, only yours is inside and mine is on both sides,'
Driving in a Land Rover on LA's freeways, we continue our journey to whatever his destination is. I felt insecure to get back to the crowd, afraid that reporters and paparazzi are still after us, but when he ensured me that there is no fear since he had taken care of it just yesterday and we can leave perfectly without worrying about them following us. I should be happy, but at the same time, I feel sorry for pulling up so many unwanted attentions to me and him.
"Are we heading to the west?" I ask. I may have a weak sense of geography, but I know well where we are heading.
"Hmm," as simple as it sounds, I know exactly where we are heading when we pass 405 highways using the 10 highway.
Twenty minutes later, he pulls up by the street paralleled to the beach. On our way to the waterfront, we pass many mini cruises, luxurious sailing ships, and yachts. I watch slowly and amazed as different sizes of ships run pass us and we do the same. I've been here once or twice, both times with Ella and Alice trying to party our ass off.
We stop by a wharf with a sign on the door saying 'private'. There are fewer yachts and sailing boats here, but the few of them makes the most views with their luxurious, the sizes are bigger and brighter. I don't expect all of them to be his, although the possibility is unfairly high, I think the bigger and muscular one is his.
"So here is our surprise, I don't think it was surprising after all, was it, you already knew where we were heading,"
"Uh-oh, not really, I had some sort of ideas," I twirl around and have a full view of the ocean blue before me. Ah, I missed this view, this smell.
"Hello, sir, are you ready to take her?" an old man with grayish hair steps out of nowhere and greets him. When his eyes catch me, he seems to become restless, "hello, ma'am, please accept my deepest apology for not seeing you, Mr. Martinez doesn't have a habit of coming here with someone,"
"Oh, it's ok, I understand, my name is Laura, it's nice to meet you..." I extend my hand, offering him a handshake.
"She's also my girlfriend," Andrew cuts in, showing a playful smirk at me and a small smile at the man before us while adding more specific information. I didn't know he wanted us to be as girlfriend and boyfriend except in the events, but who am I to protest,
"Arnold, nice to meet you too, I hope you have a great day today," he then turns to Andrew, who is watching out conversation going on, "Sir, do you want to me to assist you?"
"No, I got this, thank you, Arnold; I appreciate your care for this boat,"
"It is my pleasure to work you, you are like my own son," Arnold shakes Andrew's hand before putting a pair of keys in his hand, "take care, call me when you are done," bidding our goodbyes, Arnold leaves us. Seeing Andrew being kind to his staff is an amazing and a rear sight. I've seen him multiple times acting cold toward other people except those who are needed to be acted warmly for the sake of his company. But I have never seen this compassion in him.
After all, he's not ruthless as he seems to be, maybe it applies the same to his heart, he's not as cold and as arrogant he shows to be, surely he can feel and conceive.
"So which one is it?" I ask as Andrew opens the gate to the wharf. The path toward the end of the wooden bridge is much clearer and whiter than others I have had the chance to see.
"Have a wild guess," we walk further in and pass some yachts.
"Let me then, which yacht could it be? Andrew Martinez, the billionaire," of course I knew which one it is, I just want to play along with it. What Andrew Martinez's yacht could be other than the biggest one?
We stop before the one I just had a wild guess. Of course, I was right about it. The white shiny yacht, bigger than any other in this wharf or perhaps bigger than any other in this waterfront. The yacht can be as tall as a four building for all I know; from down here I can say there is, at least, two levels on the yacht and two under the level. On the side of it, the words 'Crystal' is craved by stainless steel on it, Under it, 'ACM Enterprises'.
"Is this the one?" he asks me, I nod at him with the secretive smile possible. It is all a twist like I'm the one surprising him. "After you then,"
With some help, I manage to take up the slippery slide to the yacht but once I'm on the lower side, I climb up the ladder, with Andrew following behind me. Once I'm all the way up, I can see how powerful and big this yacht looks compared to its surrounding's boats. The energy when you stand and observe little ones under you is incredibly powerful. I inhale a deep breath and enjoy the smell.
"Like it already?" Andrew's voice snaps me out of my thought and makes me realize I have my eyes closed.
"Why not? Who's not to enjoy this warmth and beauty?" I turn to face him. He walks over to the benches and gets rid of his shirt he wore earlier over him a white T-shirt, a little too short for him since he's abs and delicious body is visible through the thin fabric.
"Alright then, let's get her moved out," using one of the stairs one each side of the cabin, he walks up and I follow him hot on his heels.
On the top of the yacht, the driving cabin is full of gears and switches. The only thing that is noticeable and understandable is the driving handle. Andrew stands before them and checks gloriously. I stand at a safe distance so I won't be on his way. He flips some switches and turns some handles, almost similar to the main handle.
"Come here, let's do this together," he turns toward me for a moment and motions toward the set of controls. Nervously, I walk toward him.
As if afraid, I would do something wrong, I keep my hand behind my back and watch closely as he professionally does his works. Like the time we flew over LA, I watch Andrew closely. Recently, watching g Andrew doing things, distracted completely from the reality has become my thing, these are the only time I can find him himself, relaxed and loosened up.
"Ok, we just need to take the anchor and we ready to go," Andrew's voice jumps me of my dream. Fortunately, he's busy with the yacht driving, or else he would get this look on my face that was staring at him hungrily, not a good look after all.
The yacht starts sailing smoothly in the water. With the size it has, it almost looks easy to take it out of the wharf. As the engine gets heated up for the ride, the sound of the wave gets stronger and mixed with the engine, making it a soft melody, although for some it may be disturbing, it looks exactly like in the movies. When the yacht gets into its position, bow toward the sea, ready to take off, like an airplane, Andrew checks some other elements.
"Come here, there is going to some turbulence and I don't trust you on your feet," he offers his hand and I accept it with a glare at his comment. His comment didn't hurt me a bit, but it made a point of me being clumsy and I don't want to be shown weak in his eyes.
Standing between Andrew's arms which are secured glued to the handle, I spread my legs so I can have some balance. The roar of the engine gets more and the yacht bolts straight forward. The impact makes me lose my balance for although I had a grip on the railing. Yet, Andrew's arms around me work as a belt and helps me stand on my feet. I guess he was right after all, but I feel somehow disappointed for being weak.
We speed off and leave behind the wharf and the sea shore, passing other yachts, boating on the sea, waiting for nothing. As we sail the scenario before us changes from the busy spots of sailors to a sea with almost nothing before us, only the blue sky meeting the blue ocean over an imaginary line as if they never get to connect with each other but somehow they merge into each other. The sun shining over us, only the shades over the cabin is shielding us against the rays.
"We should take a spot in almost ten minutes, why don't you go and sit?" with steady steps I obey him and take a seat not so far from him. The turbulence can still be felt due to our movement against the waves.
Sitting with my hand gripping tight on the railings, I watch as the houses get smaller and the cars get invisible. Ten minutes through our journey and he hasn't stopped sailing yet. Promises, promises, Mr. Martinez, you should work on it.
As in reading my mind, he stops the boat immediately, the wave and the power still remained in our movement still has us moving forward, but this stops when he drops the anchor.
"Why do I get the feeling you have brought me here so you can have your ways with me with no one get between?" I ask cockily.
"That's because your guts are telling the truth, Ms. Brown," shooting me a cheeky smirk, he grabs my hand and leads me toward the deck. The wind is blowing mostly normally, not too heavy to move the yacht, though. "Do you want any drinks?"
"Can you make a cocktail?" I cock an eyebrow, debating his skills on making an alcoholic drink, although there is no doubt he can do anything, after all, this man makes me surprise me every time.
"Yep, let me see," following him inside the cabin under the control pad cabin, we enter a big luxury set of the room. The size of the boat doesn't give anything away as I look around and observe the sets of chairs and couches.
A small kitchen on one side, followed by a set of four-chair table and a few couches and single sofas sit dramatically and designed. The walls and the floor are covered with light wooden wall panels. I'm happy to see at least this one in not colored black or gray, unlike the color of his room's wall.
Andrew pads into the kitchen and brings out some glasses along with bottles of whiskey and some other alcohol drinks. He starts mixing some liquor and putting two cubes of ice with a straw in. How does he manage to have everything ready for everything?
"Here you go," I arch over the counter to grab the offered drink.
I take a gulp; the bitterness of the alcohol teases my tongue, to the point of spitting away. But I know better, the bitterness is always there, what did I expect? That the alcohol would taste sweet! This time, I take a sip. Andrew holds a glass himself and leads me out to the deck where you can find two pairs of chaises with a beige colored cushion is covered along with another set of table with more chairs. Looking over the deck, I wonder how they keep this place clean; however, California never was the state of rain.
"Do you want to go to the front deck or here is good?" Andrew asks as he takes off his shirt making me go crazy and thirsty for his body. The question hangs in the air as I start checking him out instead of paying attention. The Greek god before is shining under the rays of the sun, looking like a model jumped out of the magazine. "Are you going to check me out or what?"
"Uh, sorry, what?" I shake my head and blink a few times. "I think here is good," I settle on one of the chaises and look everywhere except at him.
"Are you going to sit down with your clothes on? You are going to get fried you know," he says while putting on his shades and leaning back. I look at him for a few seconds. Seeing him with such confidence makes me go diffidence about myself.
Finally, after all, the argument in my head, I take off my clothes, leaving myself in only panties and my bra. Andrew gives me a side look before turning back his head as if he's staying above with the satisfying smirk on his face.
The silence of the waves crashing against the body of the yacht is heartwarming, the sound of water, the sound of life. This week was a hell of a stress for me, and I'm glad Andrew thought of this vacation or a distraction to just get away from reality and the city to have some peace. Even though he may have some other intentions, I trust him enough to know that, that is not his only intention, or is it?
"Are we sitting here all day? I thought you had some plans in your head?" I would be lying if I say I haven't missed his body.
"Nope," he pops the p. Standing up; he extends a hand toward me. I look at his hand and then back at his face, doubting on the intentions.
"Where are we going?" still not taking his hand, I look up, wait for the answer.
"For some swimming," he shrugs.
"But isn't here any shark?"
"No, sharks don't come near California, besides, I have thought about it, that's why we are almost close to the beach," he points over his shoulder. What I failed to notice is the land that can be seen from here. I can tell we are probably two or three miles.
"Um, I think I'm fine, you go," it's not for the fear of the water or the fear of the sharks but my fear of him. I don't want to swim with him. Not knowing the reason kills me, but my guts are telling me to stay away and just watch him, it must the fear of getting myself humiliate that I can't swim well.
"Ok, then, you wanted it," with that he charges for me and wipe me off of the chaises and holds me in his arms tight.
"What are you doing? Put me down," I scream and kick so I can get myself free, but there is no use. "PUT. ME. DOWN," my shouting doesn't last long when I feel myself standing over the water, still in his arms. He chuckles recklessly as yet he doesn't care about me being upset at him, "I dare you, Andrew Martinez, to do that, I just dare-"
I don't get to finish my sentence when I feel myself floating in the air and seconds later the sound of the splash is heard and I'm thrown into the water. The clear water gives the ability to see Andrew is close next to me, I swim upward until I come to surface and take a deep breath. Andrew comes next to me laughing furiously. All I do is to turn my back to him and climb up the ladder, leaving him behind with his foolishness.
Just when I think I'm back on the desk, two hands get hold of my waist and take me down to the water. I let out a shriek when I meet the water again. Coming up for air, I charge for Andrew to tackle him down into the water so he can taste his own medicine, but instead I meet his lips, and I forget all about my anger for him. His hands on my waist help me get floating in the water so I can have the opportunity to wrap my legs around his torso.
"I hate you," although I didn't mean it, the words itself leaves a bitter taste in my mouth in such a way that it betrays my feeling for him. He doesn't seem to be affected, though, hopefully, knowing I uttered to word for his recklessness.
"Hmm, is that so?" when he says that he slips his hand between us and finds its way through the fabric. Digging his finger into my core, he makes me shriek unwanted out of surprise. When he starts to massage it slowly, the sudden pain goes away and the pleasure kicks in.
"Andrew," I sigh with his name. With some more thrust, I come undone over his finger. He kisses my neck while I pant continuously.
Helping me taking the ladder, he climbs up after me and hands me a towel which is neatly folded and placed on the couches as if someone knew there is going to be some commotions.
"Come on," not letting me take my breath; he simply takes my hand and leads me into the cabin. I know where we are heading and the anticipation is almost overwhelming.
Downstairs is as luxurious as the other parts of this boat, the same covering for the walls. Another space for having a living room and then there are the rooms. Walking into the last room, he opens the door and lets me get in first. The walls in here are painted in a bright red color.
"Let's get rid of these, shall we?" walking behind me, he takes off the towel off of my shoulders and tosses it away carelessly; obviously the patience for his is not tolerable.
Slipping his hand between the clips he undoes the bra and lets it freely drop on the floor. It doesn't take my panties to join in too. He grabs my thighs and kisses them from behind, sending butterflies to my stomach.
"Andrew, please," I plead him hopelessly,
"I know baby, but I can't be savage on you, I want to pleasure you."
I turn around to face him. Looking up at his eyes, I see the icy blue eyes looking down at what seems like to be joy in his eyes. Call me naive for it, but a feeling deep down inside me tells me this man has way more thoughts in his mind's eyes that he would let on.
"Then let me pleasure you too," I smack my lips on his and let my hand roam freely over his body and into his soft hair, softer than anything else I have ever touched. He moans into the kiss and takes steps forward, making me take steps backward and meet the bed. Second late, I'm on the bed, naked and vulnerable, waiting for his pleasure to kick in.
Andrew stands on the end of the footboard with all his glory and nakedness. His manhood is now freed out of his shorts and obvious for my view. I can see he's excited as well as I am for him. My crotch is wet, only and only for him. For some good, but torturous seconds he doesn't do anything but standing there and staring at me and my wetness.
The power he holds the way he stands as if he doesn't care if he's naked turns me on. The authority of his dominance is what makes him fearless and people fearful of him.
Slowly and bit by bit, he kneels on the bed and climbs up, hovering over my body. His eyes get the same level with mine, and I can't help but to look into them and feel the lust they hold for me. I have no objection, though, in fact, I am so ready to receive his force.
"Are you ready to be taken, baby?" his raspy voice caresses my soul, making me readier than ever for him.
"Andrew, please take me," I know he wants me to beg him and frankly enough, I want to beg him, beg him to take me hard, like there is no tomorrow for that.
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Hey, miss me? (I don't think so,)
So another update and yeah.... VOTE!!!!!