32. Free Drinks with the Hot Guy
32
Free Drinks with the Hot Guy
You
He’s totally looking at you like he’s hoping you’ll say yes.
Like he wants you to wear that tiny little gold bikini again.
And you’ve secretly been planning on it ever since you won the trip on the yacht—after all, his reaction was so awesome last time you wore it—but now…now that he’s so openly asking, you can’t resist teasing him.
Just a little.
“I don’t know,” you say, glancing at the storm-darkened window. Trying to hide your smile. “It’s raining awfully hard. And it’s cold. I don’t think it’s good weather for a bikini.”
Ziros frowns, his face falling.
“It’s not that cold.”
Ha, he’s way too adorable when he’s this obvious.
And it just makes you want to mess with him more.
“Yeah, nah, I think I’d better bundle up. You too, Z. I’ll find you a spare jacket.”
“I don’t need a jacket.”
You ignore him, fishing out your largest hoodie. It’s black, not that thick, and has a gold zipper up the front.
“Put this on,” you say, tossing it to him.
You’re half expecting him to tease you back, maybe to say he won’t wear it unless you wear the bikini. But to your surprise, he just does what you asked.
Though he can barely get his arms through the sleeves, the sweatshirt looks surprisingly good on him.
It’s a ladies’ style, so form-fitted that it hugs the muscles of his chest and arms more like a workout shirt than a jacket.
Well then.
You cough, looking away so he won’t see you blush. For a minute there, you almost forgot how fit he is.
“There, I put on the jacket like you wanted,” he says, folding his arms. And the sleeves are so tight, one of the seams makes an audible pop like the seam is about to rip. Oops. “But I’m not cold.”
Is he actually not cold, or is he just saying that because he’s trying to convince you it’s actually bikini weather out there?
You may never know.
Either way, you pack an overnight bag, making a mental note to grab the bikini before you head out. You know. Just in case it isn’t as cold as it looks out there.
Though…glancing at the rain beating down on the window, a part of you wonders if this was all a really bad idea.
Maybe you should have held off on your free yacht night until a less stormy time.
But it’s too late now. Might as well make the best of it!
“You finally ready?” Ziros asks as you shoulder your bag and head for the door. He’s leaning against the wall beside it, already wearing his board shorts.
Glancing down at his swimwear, you say, “I thought we’re planning to be on a boat, not in the ocean.”
He just shrugs, following you out the door.
“With you around, can’t be too prepared.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Something tells me you’ll end up in the water one way or another, and I’m going to have to fish you out.”
He says it so casually, you almost laugh. But the thought of falling off a yacht into the ocean doesn’t actually sound appealing in the slightest.
You shiver.
“Then let’s hope there’s a hot tub,” you say as you head out.
* * *
One night here will never be enough.
Is this what it feels like to be a billionaire with more money than you can spend in your lifetime, pampered like a queen as you sip fruity drinks with little gold umbrellas while perched in front of an elegant glass table atop a modernist wooden deck overlooking the ocean?
If so, you need to start becoming a billionaire yesterday, because this is the life!
Your drink is cold and refreshing, and you hold the glass against the side of your face as you lean back in your seat, gazing into the sunset.
Yeah. Sunset.
Because, miraculously, the rain cleared as soon as you got to the dock. Now there’s just scattered orange clouds, turning deeper purple and then blue as the last rays of early autumn sun dip below the horizon.
It’s still quite cold, but thanks to the three drinks you’ve already downed, you’re no longer feeling the bite.
And besides.
There’s a private hot tub right outside the owner’s cabin that you can’t wait to try out.
Just as soon as you’re done enjoying your fill of the free beverages and snacks, that is.
This really is the life!
Hopefully the weather holds.
When you got to the yacht, the captain met you at the dock and let you know the whole area is under a hazardous seas warning. Something about a ‘small craft advisory’ or the like. And he did say the words, ‘very steep and hazardous’, which sounded pretty ominous.
But it hasn’t been too bad yet. Just a bit choppy. Only downside is you’re still in the bay, unable to really go as far as you may have wanted.
Maybe you can get the rich vampire guy to give you a bonus night just because of the weather.
Probably not, but you still count yourself as lucky. After all, here you are cruising in the middle of the still-rather-choppy bay, your feet up on the chair across from you, humming tunelessly to yourself as you stare out into the ocean through the outlet of the bay.
“Shall I bring you another?” asks the waiter, picking up your empty glass and setting it on his tray.
“I think she’s had enough,” Ziros cuts in from beside you, but you wave his worry off.
“Nonsense! It’s all free! That means I need to get my money’s worth.”
“Is that how that works?” he asks with a suppressed laugh, folding his arms. Leaning back in his seat as he regards you with a mix of what appears to be amusement and concern.
“Yep,” you say as the waiter disappears with your empty glass. “Sure is.”
Ziros has had at least twice as many drinks as you, and shows no sign of being affected. Figures .
“Besides,” you add. “It’s my birthday. That means none of these drinks count.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how it works, human.”
You wince, even with the three drinks already in your system.
“ I told you not to call me that ,” you hiss, but Ziros only laughs.
“Human. This yacht is owned by a vampire. I don’t think we need to worry about secrecy.”
You glance back in the direction the waiter went, making sure you’re alone before whispering, “But what about his staff ? What if they don’t know?”
Ziros just shrugs.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it—”
“Your drink,” the waiter says, reappearing at your side before you can finish your sentence.
“Thank you,” you call after him as he leaves.
“Like I was saying,” Ziros says. “Not our problem.”
You frown into your drink, shaking your head. Now that you’re enjoying Mr. Rich Blondie Vampire’s yacht, it feels rude to not at least appreciate that he’s held up his half of the bargain.
But maybe Ziros is right and the staff here are all aware that they’re not exactly working for a normal human billionaire.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” The waiter asks when he returns for your empty glasses once more. With a pointed look at Ziros, he says, “We have all types, if you require blood.”
It’s a good thing you already finished your drink, or you may have spat it out.
Guess that answers that question.
“ Thanks ,” Ziros says dryly, “But no thanks. I’m good.”
“I see,” the waiter says, casting an appraising look between the two of you. And is it just your imagination, or is he perhaps assuming you’re here specifically to be Ziros’ personal, uh, well, you know . There’s gotta be a polite term for this.
Food supply?
Yikes. It definitely doesn’t sound as hot when you put it that way. Nowhere near as hot as it felt when he bit you.
Meanwhile, Ziros glares after the waiter until he’s disappeared.
Pushing himself up from the glass table where you’d been eating, he says, “I think I’m done.”
For a second there, you almost think he means he wants to go home. But fortunately, he just unzips his borrowed jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair. Then he grabs the hem of his T-shirt and shucks it off over his head.
You stare at his abs. Entranced.
No matter how many times you see him shirtless, you may never get over how fit he is.
His arms are amazing, too.
Everything about him is hot.
Black hair, steel blue eyes. A jawline that could break hearts by itself.
Yeah, this is the good life.
“Well?” He asks with a smirk. Folding his arms across his toned chest. “You gonna join me, or are you just gonna keep checking me out?”
“Join…you?” Your brain seems to have momentarily short-circuited, drunk on alcohol and abs.
You could absolutely just stand there and check him out forever in your blissful, tipsy daze.
“Yeah,” he says over his shoulder as he starts for the hot tub where it waits in all its sparkling glass-framed glory on the private deck in front of your stateroom. “Or don’t tell me you forgot your suit.” He grins, giving you a pointed look up and down. “Not that I’d mind.”
You blush.
Even though you’re tipsy enough not to feel the cold, there’s a strong chill to the air, and a dip in the hot tub would sure feel nice. And if it rains, it’ll only be more magical.
So you get up, hurrying after Ziros as he heads for the private tub outside the stateroom.