The Slippery Crab
. . .
Cade
It was tempting to skip breakfast the next morning.
Not just because I’d slept so well and wanted to savor it. But after Lovejoy’s completely unhinged friend had dropped in to give us guys a motivational sex speech, I could only imagine the group discussion the “doctor” would lead us in this morning.
But I didn’t need Harrison snitching to Grandfather that I wasn’t playing nicely. I could survive a postgame sex talk if it meant I got the UK division.
Ellie seemed unconcerned as we walked to the main deck together. She’d spent the walk admiring her new flowy checkered dress from the wardrobe Nate’d had a stylist pull together last minute. She couldn’t stop gushing about it having pockets.
Usually Ellie would be a nervous, itchy mess knowing we were walking into a situation where she’d have to lie, and her sudden confidence unnerved me.
“Lovejoy will have questions about last night,” I warned her, glancing around to make sure no crew were in earshot. The yacht was moving through the water again, having left the island behind, and everyone was busy with their jobs. “You ready to sell this?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ellie assured me. “As far as they’re all concerned, you blew my mind last night. Why do you think I brought this?”
She held up a beige seat cushion that matched the dining set in our cabin, and I stopped in my tracks.
Ellie walked another couple steps before stopping, too, and she sent me a questioning look.
I stared at her, trying to keep up. “… A cushion?”
“Yeah. Nothing will convince the others I’m sore from a night of wild sex better than carrying around something soft to sit on,” she explained as if this were completely normal. Her brows pulled together. “Do you think I should bring a second one to really sell it?”
At a loss for words, I grabbed the cushion from her and tossed it aside.
“Hey, my cushion!” Ellie cried, but I pulled her forward before she could get it back.
“Do you normally carry those around with you after sex?” I asked, leading her out onto the main deck. The others were already seated, with Lovejoy at the head of the table.
“Only if it was really, really good,” Ellie whispered, then frowned. “You should be thanking me. It was a genius plan, and that cushion would’ve done wonders for your reputation in the bedroom.”
“I don’t need any help in that department.”
Ellie’s face immediately turned a fascinating shade of pink.
“Well, good for you, then,” she mumbled just as we reached the table, and I coughed into my fist to cover a laugh.
“Cade and Ellie, perfect timing.” Lovejoy swept her arms in welcome as we took our seats, her many bracelets clinking. “We’re just beginning our group reflection about last night’s events.”
My jaw tensed. Great.
“Good morning, everyone.” Ellie beamed around the table, before zoning in on a platter of pastries. She quickly loaded two chocolate croissants onto her plate and seemed to seriously consider adding a third.
“Yes, yes, grab some sustenance,” Lovejoy encouraged us. “While they get settled, let’s begin. Madison, would you like to fill us in on your and Harrison’s evening?”
“Is this really necessary?” My brother laughed from across the table, while a crewmember set a mug of coffee in front of me and orange juice next to Ellie’s small croissant tower. “We don’t need to hear about this stuff.”
“There’s no shame in discussing carnal pleasure,” Lovejoy said patiently, unfolding a napkin on her lap.
“Many of us were raised to feel embarrassed or insecure about our sexuality, but one of our goals this week is to push past that discomfort. There’s nothing more freeing than being open and honest about all aspects of your relationship. We’re here to dig deep.”
Harrison scrunched his nose. “Sure, but can’t we do this in private? Not with a whole table of people listening. Including my brother.”
I fully agreed with him.
That serene smile returned, and it wasn’t the first time I wondered what combination of drugs Lovejoy was on.
“This retreat is about letting go, Harrison. I understand your reservations, and yes, we can switch to private sessions if that’s your preference.
But if you’d like to try—just try—embracing group therapy first, you may find it liberating. This is a judgement-free zone.”
“Please, Harrison?” Madison coaxed, gently squeezing his arm. “Give it a try for me?”
Harrison stared at her, then blew out a long breath. “What do you want to know?”
Lovejoy’s smile widened. “Let’s start with a little game. How about sharing three words that best describe last night for you?”
This was, by far, the strangest “game” I’d ever heard of.
I drank my coffee and tuned out their answer, because my brother’s sex life was the last thing I wanted to hear about. Their three words must’ve been descriptive, though, because Ellie’s cheeks glowed pink.
Her blush reminded me what position the die had landed on between us in bed last night, right before she’d turned redder than a tomato and hidden the evidence.
That’d taken a long time to stop thinking about before I could fall asleep.
I grabbed some food during Harrison’s turn, then Candace went next with her three words. “Let’s see. I’ll say… Shower. Table. Balcony.”
Lovejoy nodded along. “While those provide interesting visuals, how about some adjectives to help describe how you felt?”
“Well, it was hot.” She thought about it for a moment, then smirked. “And thanks to that pamphlet you gave us, I give the night three thumbs up.”
She added a wink on the word “three,” pulling immediate interest from the other women—Ellie’s breath even hitched—while Fletcher stretched back in his seat with a grin.
“Hold your applause, ladies,” he said, humble as ever. “I do what I can.”
I fought back an eye roll. He’d always been a piece of work.
“That’s high praise, Candace,” Lovejoy said, as if she weren’t commenting on another woman’s orgasms. “Thank you for sharing with us.”
The fake doctor turned to me and Ellie next, brows lifted expectantly.
I looked at Ellie and raised a brow, too, daring her to say “cushion.”
She smiled like she could read my mind.
“Our three words are bed, chocolate,” she listed off on her fingers, my lips twitching at the second one. She paused to think, biting her lip. “And, um… crab?”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Of all the words in the English language…
“Crab?” Madison echoed my thoughts, cocking her head. “Like the animal?”
Ellie hesitated and looked to me for help, but I had nothing for her. She was the one who’d started this.
Lovejoy gently cleared her throat. “Do you feel comfortable expanding on that last word for us, Ellie?”
“Oh, of course.” Ellie’s eyes widened—looking even more like a deer caught in the headlights—while she absently scratched her thigh. “It’s a—It’s a… position.”
I fought to keep my face straight at the blatant lie. The crab was actually a toy she’d made for her cat, and a sense of foreboding crept in. This would end badly.
“Oh?” Lovejoy tilted her head forward, and her glasses slid down an inch. “I don’t recall any crab-related ones in my pamphlets—”
“A friend told me about it,” Ellie blurted, her face only reddening further. Her scratching grew more frantic, making my fingers flex. The panic was clear in her eyes. “It’s called the, um… the Slippery Crab.”
I stifled a quick laugh, and Lovejoy’s brow furrowed. “The Slippery Crab?”
“Yep,” Ellie squeaked. “Highly recommend it! Just be sure to stretch beforehand.”
A fake coughing fit barely saved me from snorting into my coffee. … Where had that even come from?
“Sounds pretty lame to me,” Candace drawled, watching a crewmember replace her empty champagne flute with a full one.
“I don’t know. I mean, ‘slippery’ seems like it could be fun,” Madison said, then frowned. “Or dangerous.”
“Oh, it’s both,” Ellie assured her, going on with her lie. “That’s why it’s so effective.”
More like nonexistent.
“It can’t be that effective if no one’s heard of it,” Candace challenged, and Ellie stiffened.
My gaze lingered on Candace’s little smirk. What the hell was her problem?
“Now, now.” Lovejoy lifted her arms, her many bracelets clanking as they raced against gravity. “This isn’t a competition. Ellie, please continue. Tell us more about this crab position. I’m intrigued.”
“Well.” Ellie hesitated, and her blushing grew even worse before she tilted her chin up. Her eyes narrowed at Candace. “Let’s just say… I give it six thumbs up.”
Brows flew up around the table—while I wanted to face-palm—and Madison choked on her orange juice.
“Six times?” she rasped, setting down her glass. “From one position?”
Harrison rubbed his hand over her back, looking just as surprised. “I’d still rather not know anything about my brother’s sex life, but is it weird I’m strangely proud of you?”
“Yes. Extremely weird,” I answered, deadpan.
This was a mess. Everyone looked way too impressed, and I needed to stop this before Ellie made up some new fantastical story about me having two penises.
Ellie started scratching again, and I grabbed her hand, pulling it into my lap to stop her.
She opened her mouth, but I squeezed her hand hard enough to cut her off.
Leaning down close to her ear, I murmured through a clenched jaw, “That’s enough selling it.”
But Ellie just patted our joined hands and addressed Madison with a smile. “Six minimum. I lost count after Cade did this thing with his hips—”
I slapped my free hand over her mouth and raised my voice. “Who’s next? Vlad?”
The Russian was leaning back in his chair, pouring more vodka than juice into his glass, and watching Ellie with a new appreciation. “I want to hear more about this crab.”
“Me too.” Piper pulled out her notebook and leaned forward. “Can you describe it from the top, please?”
Ellie smiled against my palm and glanced at me with an impish glint in her eye that I was beginning to recognize.
She even winked at me.
She looked entirely too pleased with herself for running with this story, while I suppressed a groan.
Not for the first time this week, I regretted not hiring one of the actresses. They would’ve followed my script and stayed within the lines of normal social behavior.
Ellie Darling was a wild card one overimaginative story away from blowing up our entire plan.