Love Unscripted

Page 103

He was wearing a dark suit and a white button-down shirt. It was the first time I saw him dressed up. He was freshly shaven and wearing that cologne that always intoxicated me.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself!” I smiled back to him.

He ushered me towards the center of the yacht where a magnificent staircase led to the upper and lower decks. Gilded mirrors and artwork hung from the walls. We passed an ornate bar and a small galley on our way towards the bow of the yacht.

The front salon was decorated in hues of blue and beige, with two semi-circle sofas dominating the central area. The entire room was clad in windows allowing a panoramic view of the moonlit ocean.

Overlooking the bow was a magnificent mahogany dining table set elegantly with two place settings. Real silver, crystal stemware, white chin a with an exquisitely tall bouquet of fresh flowers in the center; it was all too perfect.

“Good evening, sir. The captain would like to know if you are ready to depart?” one of the ship’s stewards asked Ryan.

“Yes, please,” he graciously replied.

The ship’s engines hummed to life and I could see the crew pulling in the ropes that secured us to the docks. I walked over to the window to get a closer look as we departed the slip. The moon was almost full; fluffy clouds dotted the night sky, occasionally obscuring the moon from view. We would have a perfect night to be out on the ocean.

Ryan stood behind me; his hands rested on my waist as he softly kissed my bare shoulder.

“So, what do you think?” he whispered in my ear.

“Very impressive for a first date!” I said enthusiastically.

“It’s not our first date. If I recall correctly, you took me out on a boat for our first date,” Ryan uttered. “Do you have any idea of how much I wanted to kiss you when we were out on the lake?”

“I was thinking about kissing you when we were on the deck, actually,” I quietly confessed.

“I almost kissed you then too,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you?” I wondered, looking up into his eyes.

“I hesitated and you ran off.” Ryan sighed, appearing regretful.

In a matter of moments, we were out on the open sea. The moon shone in the sky like a beacon illuminating our way.

“I really like your dress,” he murmured. His hand swept my hair to the side so he could softly kiss my neck. I felt his tongue, his teeth, brush and graze on my skin. My desire for him could no longer be contained.

I turned in his arms; our eyes met and our lips found each other. His strong hands pressed me closer to his chest. He kissed me passionately.

My fingers tangled in the back of his hair as the intensity of our kissing consumed me.

Slowly I slid my hands down the front of his shirt, across his waist, until my fingers found the back pockets of his pants. A soft moan escaped his mouth as I tensed my hands in his pockets; his warm hands held my face to his.

His kiss became soft and slower. I could spend an eternity kissing this man. Ryan pulled me into a warm embrace before releasing my lips from his. He had a smug grin on his face.

Our moment was interrupted when the steward came back in the room. “Excuse me, sir. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Shall I bring you a bottle of champagne or would you prefer wine?”

“Do you want champagne or wine before dinner?” Ryan asked.

“You choose,” I replied. I wanted him to make the decision.

“We’ll have the champagne,” he answered.

Ryan and I toured the yacht before dinner; we wandered down the stairs to take in the sights of the lower deck. Dark, rich woods and designer wallpaper covered the hallways that led to the staterooms. We took turns peeking into the different rooms; each room was decorated in different patterns and colors.

My eyes mischievously glanced at the door to the master suite, hoping to encourage him to steal away with me for a moment. He laughed at me before stating, “tempting, so very tempting, but our dinner will get cold!”

Our fabulous dinner was served in courses, and I was quite full after the prime rib. Everything was delicious; it felt like we ate for two hours.

Dessert would have to wait.

After our plates were cleared, an older man wearing a tuxedo joined us in the salon. He sat at the baby grand piano that graced the portside and proceeded to play.

Ryan stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me,” he whispered.

He took me in his arms and placed my hand in his as he slowly turned us on the floor. His hand gently caressed the small of my back; he rested our entwined hands on his chest.

I whispered in his ear, “Thank you for the best date of my life.”

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