Chapter 1
Chapter One
Zachariah
I stepped out onto the deck and inhaled. The fresh sea air did something to my soul. I’d grown up in Dallas, Texas, but it never felt right to me. Too landlocked. The only thing that had brought me back to Dallas repeatedly was my sweet Lulu, but I fucked that up and had to let her go.
I settled in South Carolina instead and while my home overlooking the bay was my safe haven, my yacht would prove to be my sanctuary.
“Good morning, Boss.”
The nerve in my neck flared.
“Good morning, Stevens, and stop calling me boss.” I walked down the starboard side toward the stern, running my hand along the chrome railing.
The ship was spotless. I paid my crew well, so it had better be.
I paid them for the skill and their discretion.
This week’s excursion would challenge both.
“What should I call you? Captain?” Stevens chuckled.
“Well, considering I don’t drive the ship, Captain wouldn’t be appropriate.” I scowled in his direction. He shuddered and got serious.
Stevens was a former head steward and event planner who came highly recommended. He was good at his job because he wasn’t intimidated by anyone, including me. I needed a former yachty to help bring my vision to life.
“So, a quick rundown.” He sat on one of the blue-and-white-striped couches, lining the sun deck.
I looked down to the diving platform. “The guest list has been completed. Itinerary has been finalized. I’ll do another confirmation of the excursions two days out from embarkation.
Funny, both outings have called me to confirm.
They can’t wait for the infamous Zachariah Webber to dawn their steps. ”
“They will be disappointed.”
“I told them that, they are still holding out hope.” Steven laughed. “Poor shmucks.”
I glared in his direction.
“Sorry, Boss.” His eyes got wide. “I mean Mr. Webber.”
“You can call me Zach, you know.” I sat in the chair opposite him.
“Okay, Mr. Webber, what questions can I answer for you?” He smirked.
“Let me take a look at the guest list.”
Instead of a piece of paper, he handed me a notebook.
He’d learned early on I hated screens and loose pieces of paper.
Plus, the guest list wasn’t just a list of names.
It was a carefully curated group of people with extensive background checks and vetted by the BDSM community.
You couldn’t just walk onto my boat. You had to be recommended and then lay your soul to bare and then maybe you would get an invite.
I had offered some personal invitations, but most of the guests were new to me. A good mix of Dominants and submissives, traveling as solos who would interact to make the first-ever BDSM yacht club an exclusive and luxurious fantasy vacation on the high seas.
I flipped through the familiar names and skimmed their bios to get more acquainted with those I didn’t know.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Webber?”
I looked up at the steward who was speaking. She held my gaze for a second before averting her eyes.
“Where’s Carol?” I asked.
“I’m right here.” She came sauntering in with a coffee in one hand and plate of fresh-cut fruit in the other. She set the tray on the little table next to me and then stood between myself and the steward. “And, Claudia, is it?” Carol stepped forward and the girl squeaked and stepped back.
“I believe in your training I explained what your duties were and I do specifically recall mentioning doing Mr. Webber was not part of them.”
“Carol.”
She held up her hand.
“Please retire to your quarter and pack your things. Your contract with us ends today.”
“But…”
While I couldn’t see her face, something in her expression shut Claudia up and she scurried away.
“Was that necessary?” I asked and skimmed a few more guest profiles.
“Have to make an example of someone.” She shrugged.
“Pay her for the week.”
“Yes, sir.” She grinned and headed back inside to check on the rest of the staff.
“That woman scares me,” Steven chimed in.
I picked up my cup of coffee. “Yeah, that’s why I hired. . .” I set it back down.
My brained short-circuited and the world seemed to stand still even though the yacht was gliding across the ocean at thirty-five knots.
Her name was in block letters on the page divider, followed by her photo in the top left corner.
Lucinda Simmons.
“What?” Steven stood up. “What’s wrong?”
“Ho…” I inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm my racing heart. “Where did this name come from?”
If her beautiful face with those dark brown eyes and perfect pink lips weren’t smiling up at me, I would think the world was playing an ironic joke.
“Who are you talking about?” Steven shifted to look over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah, Lucinda. She’s super cute.” He sat on the chair next to me. “She’s a house submissive at Club Cowboy in Austin. Super sweet, too. She was recommended to Carol by…” He looked up to the sky. “Robert Standish.”
“Standish.”
“Yeah, you know him?” Steven plucked a grape from my plate. “You’d think with a name like Standish, he’d be English, but no, he’s Texan through and through.”
I glared at him.
He stood and returned to his side of the ship. “Is there a problem with her?”
I flipped through her file, confirming what Steven mentioned. I might have been concerned about the amount of information he had on her from memory, but he knew all the guests just as well.
“From her recommendation, she was a great sub.” He tapped on his phone. “Worked at Cowboy to put herself through UT. Popular among other house subs and mem…”
His voice faded as I studied her photo. It was a posed head shot, but she managed to inject some personality into it from the tilt of her head to the barely there smile.
I’d seen that smile before. It meant she was having the time of her life.
I’d spent months talking myself out of calling her or going to see her.
Her father would have never known. I still had a copy of her last voicemail to me before I shut it down and switched phones.
She told me it was my last chance, but if I knew Lucinda like I thought I did, she would have kept calling.
Holding out hope. I imagined with an aching nausea in my gut the final call she made and how heartbroken she must have felt.
I abandoned her because of my feelings for her.
It wasn’t appropriate for a thirty-five-year-old to lust after an eighteen-year-old girl. And my best friend’s daughter at that.
If I was being honest with myself, she had been my favorite person in the world since the first moment she recognized me when I came back after being away for a while.
I’d never expected to have kids, and when my best friend knocked up his high school sweetheart, I stuck around a lot in the first couple of years.
Then when he got sole custody of her because his sweetheart turned out not to be so sweet, I had to support my friend.
He embraced fatherhood and I was happy being the best uncle in the world, but around the time she started talking about boys, an unexplainable jealousy took up residence in my chest. At sixteen, she developed these curves much too soon and by the time she turned eighteen, she was exquisite in my eyes.
Her curly hair she wore in ringlets down her back had red highlights when she spent too much time in the sun.
Her light-brown skin pinked up when she blushed.
Her carefree style and her warmth made people want to be around her.
Of course, she was popular and funny and outgoing. She led and her friends followed.
But, with me, she was sweet and sassy and submissive. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who got to see that side of her these days.
Most popular sub in her club. I rubbed my chest and sighed.
“We have a curated waitlist if you want to repl—”
I wasn’t ready to see her, deal with what I’d done to her. I was a coward for leaving her the way I did. Steven was giving me an out. I should take it. This week was too important to me. I had too much at stake and no need to complicate it with a surprise reunion with the love of my life.
I held up my hand.
“Don’t do anything.” I stood and headed inside. “I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Michael is in your stateroom ready to show you some stuff.”
I waved and made my way down the narrow corridor and up a few stairs. My stateroom sat in the front of the ship, just below the captain’s perch. I stepped through the open door and skirted around the king-sized bed into the seating area in an alcove off the main room.
“Mr. Webber.”
I set the guest book on my desk. “Michael, how have you been?” I greeted him with an outstretched hand.
“Well, my friend.” He released my hand and went back to fiddling with his gadgets on the glass coffee table. “Excited to show you what I got. Some fun stuff to make your week more tantalizing.” He cackled.
Every surface was covered with samples of any and all kinky toys the ship could possibly need. I’d picked out some essentials to have available in each scene room and a gift of kinky toys for each guest for their staterooms. But these were some extras made especially for me.
“Before we get into it…” I sat on the end of the couch. “We’ve double-tested the cameras around the ship and in the scene rooms?”
“Triple-checked.” He snickered. “View for the camera only visible on these four tablets. All password protected. I’ll be training your staff to utilize them over the next few days.”
I picked up the tablet.
“And you will have access to everything right here.” He pointed the bank of small televisions over my desk.
“Perfect.” I tapped the screen. It sprung to life with a total of six scene rooms in HD.
I had worked diligently with a designer, creating each color scheme and aesthetic to make the ship a perfect oasis.
Mockups of the whole ship were constructed with every conceivable piece of furniture, finish and fixture in mind.
Once the ship was ready for me, the team made quick work in bringing my vision to life.
“Now, what do you have to show me?” I set the tablet down.
“The floggers you like, custom-made to your specifications.” He handed them both to me, one heavier with long thin falls that would cause quite a stingy bite on the sub of my choice.
And a much lighter one with thicker leather ropes, each fall ending with little knot at the end for more of an impact.
I swung the thinner one through the air. The whooshing sound never failed to get me hard.
“Here’s the array of plugs you requested.” He handed me a thin case with a silver lock. I unhooked it and opened it to find a set of six butt plugs in various sizes and materials. I liked to have variety in my play.
“Excellent work, Michael.” I shut the case and set it aside. He went through a few more items, but my mind wandered to Lucinda.
I hated to admit it, but I was curious. How did my sweet innocent Lucinda end up on a BDSM yacht excursion? My little submissive had found her way back to me, even if she didn’t know it yet.