Hook, Wine and Tinker Read online

  There’d been many, many women in his life already. Being young, rich, and presentable meant having lots of potential playmates. It would have been no trouble finding one to share his bed tonight. His erection grew as he thought about the attractive company rep of a new catering service who’d made it clear she’d be happy to warm his bed. But taking the rep, Laura was her name, up on her offer would have obligated him to invite her to the party and focus his attention on her. And he wanted to be free for tomorrow night. His gut told him his fantasy woman might be there—and he knew for sure that Laura wasn’t the one he’d been waiting for.

  He stroked harder, amused at this way of satisfying himself that harked back to his first brushes with puberty—and his first thoughts of his dream woman. Dominic had been the quintessential nerd all through his early life in a small village in northern England, his years at school and at university. Bookish, skinny, shy, he’d used all his free time and roiling energy to learn everything he could about pleasing women. That was when he first conceived of his fantasy woman. All that book knowledge had served him well when he started his business. In a surprisingly few years, Fantasia Resorts had made him ridiculously wealthy and, as they say, he’d cleaned up real well. He’d achieved everything he’d ever dreamed of and more—but the woman he’d visualized sharing it all with still eluded him.

  Hope sprang eternal. He’d know who she was by some synchronicity—of their looking up at the stars at the same moment, of the meeting of their hands while reaching for the same book from a bookstore rack, some sign. Being alone like this, whacking off, was a potent reminder of his past—and the dreams still waiting for fulfillment.

  The down side of his success had been losing his sense of wonder. At thirty-two, he was in serious danger of becoming really jaded. He needed to be with someone new, fresh, someone capable of helping him rediscover zest. He’d been searching for the right woman, enjoying the search. But now he was ready to find her and change both their lives. Dominic was nothing if not an optimist. He was sure she’d come soon. Just like him.

  Chapter Two

  Gwyn didn’t feel any better about her costume when she put it on the next night to get ready for her date. And Pete was twenty minutes late picking her up. But once he got there, she had to admit he looked pretty damned good in his green tights and tunic. Especially those tights. They molded his buns, making them look higher and tighter than his usual jeans. Hmm. Maybe there was something to men in tights. Pete’s tunic brushed his bulge, drawing her gaze like a neon bull’s eye. She felt so hot looking at him, she lost her fear of freezing in the skimpy costume.

  Pete gave her a gratifying up and down scan before grabbing her into a bear hug and deep searing kiss of thanks.

  Mmm, she thought. Good start. She pressed herself against his bulge and relished his stiffening in response. His cock wedged against her folds beneath the thin fabric provided tantalizing friction. Maybe they could just forget about the party and…

  He broke away from her. “Oh, baby, Peter thinks his Tink looks great.”

  She hated it when he spoke about himself in third person.

  “Turn around,” he ordered. “Let me see you flap your wings.”

  She slowly circled, letting him get an eyeful of more than just her wings, which quivered as she took tiny steps perched on her stiletto sandals.

  “Yeah,” he said when she’d completed her circle. She looked at his crotch to gauge his level of arousal. In those tights, he looked permanently good to go.

  Pete looked at his watch. “We’ve got to get off to the marina.”

  Gwyn leered at him. “I thought we could maybe explore what’s below those tights before we go to the party.” She began to stroke him through the green nylon, bringing his cock to full attention.

  Pete moaned, but pulled away, taking his rod out of her reach. “Oh, baby. No can do right now. Can’t be late to the boss’s party. I promise, later.”

  Gwyn promised herself she would not end the night with only her vibrator bringing her to glory. “You’re the one who was late picking me up,” she pointed out.

  He held up a hand. “I know. My fault. But we need to get moving.”

  Carefully adjusting her wings, Gwyn slipped on her black silk cloak and followed Pete down to his vintage Jeep. Traffic flowed fairly smoothly, and they were soon parked in the lot closest to the dock where Dominic Laredo’s yacht, the Bound for Pleasure, lay moored. Gwyn briefly wondered about that name. Bound for Pleasure. What did it mean? She grinned as the name sparked thoughts of her most inner fantasies… Could Dominic Laredo be referring to bondage…or did bound here merely mean a direction? Or could it be both? She found herself intrigued by the man she was about to meet. Of course she’d probably barely get a glimpse of him. He’d be surrounded by the usual rich man’s entourage. If he even showed up for the party at all.

  At their first sight of the yacht, Gwyn nearly joined Pete in his wolf whistle. She’d never been on a yacht before. Despite what Pete had told her about the large number of people who’d be attending, she’d expected it to be a somewhat small craft. What they were boarding resembled a floating palace, lit up like jewels rivaling the moon and starlight.

  “Your boss has some taste in toys,” Gwyn said to Pete. She preceded him as they climbed the gangplank to the deck, where vampires and witches, ghosts, skeletons, and zombies hobnobbed with ladies of the night and fairy tale ogres. Tuxedoed servers wearing simple masks circulated among the guests with platters of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne.

  “Looks like everyone’s here already,” Pete said, indicating the crowd.

  “Looks like everyone’s wearing a lot more clothes than I am,” Gwyn whispered, feeling the absence of adequate cover and a mask. “Even the women dressed as hookers. I’m going to keep my cloak on.”

  “Aw, don’t,” Pete pouted.

  “Perhaps you’ll allow me to assist with your cloak,” a deep resonant voice said from behind Gwyn, raising goose bumps up and down her spine as warm breath caressed the nape of her neck. Gwyn resisted the impulse to pat stray blonde curls into place to protect the delicate spot where she felt the mysterious speaker’s gaze linger. At the same time, she was glad she’d worn her hair up. She turned slightly to see who was speaking.

  “It’s him,” Pete whispered to Gwyn. “Dominic Laredo.” Gwyn reached out and grasped Pete’s arm to keep from wobbling in her high heels. So much for her speculation that she probably wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of their host all night. Dominic Laredo was standing well within her comfort zone, demonstrating the truth of the expression he bowled me over. Gwyn really wished she had a mask. Fortunately, she knew she was far too insignificant in the scheme of things to register on Dominic Laredo’s radar screen.

  “Pete Payne from the local office,” Pete said, propping Gwyn up with one hand and holding the other out to his host.

  “Payne, of course. Introduce me to your companion,” the other man commanded in a soft voice. Gwyn had not expected Dominic Laredo to have the cultured British accent of some Cambridge professor.

  “This is my date, Gwyn Verde. Tinkerbell for tonight,” Pete said. “I’m Peter Pan. Tink, uh Gwyn, this is Dominic Laredo. The man who thought up the concept of Fantasia Resorts.”

  Gwyn struggled to control her spontaneous attraction to the man, which instantly brought her a rush of heat and flashbacks of the forbidden French film from her youth. She was sure her face must be bright flaming red. So this was the person behind the vacations she ranked at the top of her wish list. The man sizing her up was the quintessential buccaneer: Tall and clean shaven, dark gray eyes gleaming with menace, long black hair tied back in a pony tail under an elegant tricorne, a gold hoop suspended from his right ear, and a plastic hook attached to one sleeve of his ornate jacket. Well, quintessential except for the hook being plastic. “How perfect your costume is,” he purred. “And your ESP. I’ve come in my Captain Hook regalia—and you’re just the one I’ve been looking for.”
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  He was gazing directly at her when he said this. Pete just stood there, grinning. Probably thrilled to have another character from his favorite story there.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Gwyn stammered. Her insides were roiling—and it wasn’t from the gentle rocking of the yacht. She held her hand out to the pirate captain, who surrounded her trembling fingers with his large warm palm. She looked questioningly at his plastic hook.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry. For tonight, I’m using my party hook instead of the real one,” he said so softly she had to lean toward him to hear. “I keep my real one in my quarters. I’ll be happy to show it to you.”

  She pulled her hand out of his embrace. From resenting her part in the silly charade she’d agreed to play, she’d suddenly advanced to feeling trapped in a dangerous role. What had happened between Tinkerbell and Captain Hook? She couldn’t remember—and she couldn’t believe she was asking herself that question.

  “I really would be happy to take personal charge of your cape,” he said. “It will be safe with me.” His voice lingered on the word safe.

  Gwyn clutched the cape tighter. She wanted to pull it around herself and hide away from his gaze in an obscure corner of the huge room. But she needed to act like a reasonable adult. So she said, “Thank you. It’s a bit chilly, so I’d like to keep it for now.”

  He inclined his head slightly as he looked at her from under hooded eyes. “Your wish is my command. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I will see to my other guests.”

  As soon as he’d drifted away, Gwyn was relieved to feel her heartbeat slow down and her breathing return to normal.

  “I think he likes you,” Pete said, looking enormously pleased.

  For just a moment, she’d forgotten him.

  “Let’s eat,” he said, leading the way to where a server was handing out shish-kebabs of meat, mushrooms, tomatoes, and onions.

  Gwyn’s throat had knotted up. She didn’t think she could swallow a bite of anything. Maybe she’d be better off drinking something before she attempted to eat. She reached for a champagne flute from a passing tray.

  * * * * *

  Dominic said hello to a major vendor and his wife who’d driven down from L.A. The wife prattled on about how great the food was, how gorgeous and luxurious the yacht. Of course.

  She was here tonight. She’d come to his party, just as he’d been sure she would. Dominic could scarcely keep his mind on greeting his guests. How perfect that she’d come dressed as Tinkerbell when he’d chosen to be Captain Hook. Synchronicity.

  Dominic lifted a champagne flute and toasted her from across the room, pleased to see her mirroring his movements though she wasn’t looking his way.

  Her body had signaled to him like a faithful compass the moment she entered his space. He’d sensed her before he’d fully seen her, heard her words, touched her. Each new layer of sensation added to his assurance that she would be his before the party ended. How perfect that she was on the Bound for Pleasure tonight.

  She was beautiful, of course. He longed to undo the sexy blond bun, rub his face in the wispy tendrils escaping her sparkling tiara. He’d have to get that cape away from her so he could really feast his eyes on her body—which a glimpse of trim ankles promised would far exceed his fantasies. He felt himself begin to harden and took pleasure in how his needs and hers would unite them—soon.

  His erection grew, pressing against his pirate breeches, as he watched Tinkerbell, her name was Gwyn Verde, turn to, what was his name?, Payne. Dominic almost groaned at the thought of her with him. Payne had some skills that made him tolerable in his minor position in the company. Reports from his resource people labeling Payne as immature and lacking true initiative told Dominic loud and clear this man would never rise beyond a mid-level position.

  So why was the beautiful woman of his dreams with Payne?

  Dominic normally would have rejected the possibility of going after any other man’s woman, especially an employee’s.

  Except that the man she was with was totally wrong for her. No. That was the wrong way to analyze the situation. He, Dominic Laredo, was the only right man for her. He had to make sure she knew it—pronto.

  He drained his champagne and began to move in her direction.

  * * * * *

  One flute of champagne did not suffice to untie the knot in Gwyn’s throat, so she reached for a second. She was beginning to feel ridiculous as she stood clutching her cape with her left hand and guzzling champagne with her right. She probably had more people staring at her draped in her cape than would have if she finally took the darn thing off and just swaggered around the room with a confidence she didn’t feel.

  Pete was waving to some guys dressed as Super Heroes. “Gwyn, I just need to go talk to my buddies over there about our football pool. Kind of stuff that bores you, I know. Why don’t you grab yourself something to eat, and take off the cape? Later, I want to show you off.” He grinned. Before she could say anything, he made his way across the crowded room and began clapping Spiderman on the back.

  Great, she thought, finishing her second, unaccustomed champagne. She felt tipsy, abandoned, and far too warm to continue wearing the cloak. Maybe she’d try to find Dominic Laredo and let him put it away for her. On second thought, finding him was probably not a good idea. She felt that if she took off her cape in front of him, big red neon arrows pointing to her clit from all directions would light up and demonstrate his effect on her.

  Better she should avoid Dominic Laredo, who made her think of turbaned charmers playing flute music for snakes to rise and undulate to. She gulped. Even thinking of looking for him must mean she was beyond tipsy.

  She could strangle Pete for leaving her stranded like this. He knew she was shy in large groups of people she didn’t know. Last she’d seen, he’d still been gabbing away with his friends. And people said women talked a lot. Pete probably wouldn’t even miss her if she took off.

  Gwyn was in danger of losing her last drop of patience with the man. She just wanted to go home, forget this night, and cut her losses. Seeing Pete cavorting with the Hulk and Spiderman while she seethed in misery really had to be a wake-up call on his potential as a future anything that involved sensitivity and a recognition of her needs.

  When she’d had enough, Gwyn went over to where Pete and the Super Heroes were huddled together. “Pete,” she said when she finally snagged his attention, “still busy with your friends?”

  Pete put a proprietary arm around her. “Gwyn, Spiderman here is Roger and the Hulk is Chuck. Guys, this is Gwyn.”

  The two men grunted greetings.

  “Are you still talking about football?”

  Pete chuckled. “Yeah, a bit of a problem about our pool. Say guys, where are your ladies?”

  Spiderman shrugged. “Linda is off somewhere with Tina. They wanted to look at the light fixtures or something. Linda’s dressed like Little Bo Peep, and Tina like a hooker.”

  “Interesting combination,” Gwyn said.

  Pete turned to her. “Why don’t you go look for them? You all can chat while me and the guys settle things about the pool. Be much more interesting for you.”

  “Okay, but we really need to talk soon,” Gwyn said, trying to communicate with her eyes that she was serious.

  “Soon, I promise. But we’ve gotta finish working this out now.” He gestured to his two buddies, who nodded.

  Not pleased, Gwyn gave up on Pete for now and went in search of the female twosome. After all, how hard could it be to find a Bo Peep walking with a hooker?

  Pretty hard. After circulating all over the room for fifteen minutes, she gave up and headed back to Pete. He was still immersed in his conversation, oblivious to her. That was it—the last straw. She reached into the pocket of her cape for her tiny bag and pulled out her cell phone. She’d get a cab to come out and rescue her. Thank goodness she’d brought money. Previous nights out with Pete had taught her to be prepared. When she connected with a dispatcher, she foun
d out she’d have to wait a half hour and pay a bundle to get home. An expensive lesson, but anything was worth never having to repeat a night like this one.

  It would probably be best to get sober before she attempted to make her way down the gangplank. Figuring she’d better eat to counteract what she’d drunk, she turned around to take a crab-stuffed mushroom from a passing server. She’d just bitten into the mushroom and was savoring its rich herbs when he was standing at her elbow.

  “Gwyn,” he said, devouring her with those dark eyes, “you look flustered. Is something wrong?”

  She gulped down the mushroom. The last thing on earth she wanted right now was to tell him the truth. But as she tried to think of a way to fluff him off, she looked deep into his amazing gray eyes and felt compelled to come up with some plausible story. “I, uh, am not feeling real good. Thought it would be best to go home. I just called a cab. I don’t want to drag Pete away from the party this early.”

  Dominic frowned. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling all right. Has something here at the party bothered you—something you’ve eaten or drunk?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing like that. Everything here’s wonderful. But I’ve been working a lot of extra hours lately. It’s probably catching up with me.”

  He was so focused on every word she said. “Well, if you want to go home, I can have my driver take you. Though you might want to go somewhere quieter and just rest for a bit. Then you’d be able to stay longer.” He thought for a moment. “In fact, why don’t you come to my quarters. You can rest, see if you care to rejoin the party later. Cancel the cab.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she said, blushing from his scrutiny. “It’s really not necessary to go to so much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all. I insist.” He looked her up and down. “You look very warm. That might be the problem. Why don’t you take off that cape? Maybe you’ll feel better immediately.”