shoulder and found me sitting against the edge of the boat. I didn’t look away and she tilted her head in question. I held my beer up and smiled. She laughed and followed suit, holding her margarita up in a long-distance salute.
My gaze traveled over her as she took the first sip of her drink. The sun shined through the thin cotton and for once I was graced with every inch of her hourglass figure. Had she worn that outfit knowing full well it would drive me insane? Had she tied that string around her neck considering the fact that I’d be the one untying it at the end of the day?
I gulped down another sip of her beer and stared out at the horizon, trying to subdue the caveman part of my brain. The beer did little to soothe the ache caused by Josephine.
Fuck.
As much as I wanted Josephine, I had to remember that she was my employee.
I needed to get laid. I needed one night with someone less vulnerable, less employed by me. Josephine had moved to New York a month ago. She had no friends, no connections. If something happened, I’d most likely be her emergency contact. That knowledge came with certain responsibilities. Sinking my dick into her would be an amateur move, something I would have gladly done in my twenties, too preoccupied with the ache in my pants to worry about the consequences of my actions. I could only imagine the conversation she’d have with her parents. “Yeah, my job is good. My boss tried to fuck me on a boat yesterday.”
“How ya holdin’ up, champ? You look like you’re about to crush that beer bottle in your hand,” Dean said, patting my shoulder as he took the seat beside me.
“Great,” I muttered, squinting out toward the ocean.
“Are you pissed I invited Jo?” he asked, leaning back against the cushion.
I thought of how to answer and then I caught the tail end of her laugh. Fuck me. Fuck me.
“I think I’m in trouble with that situation,” I offered, not bothering to turn his way.
Dean was the gloating type. There was no need to feed his ego.
He laughed and hung his head. “Took you three weeks to realize something I saw the first five minutes I was around you two.”
“Maybe you’re a fucking psychic,” I muttered sarcastically, angry at the wrong person.
He patted my shoulder.
“You need to relax. We’re on a boat, my friend. Not to mention, we have a dozen ladies onboard who would be more than willing to deal with that little problem Jo has caused in your pants.”
“What did I cause?” Jo asked, a few feet back.
I squeezed my eyes closed and willed her to walk away.
“Julian?” she asked.
I ignored her.
Dean shook his head and moved away. “C’mon, Jo. I’ll make you another margarita. Julian is having a little temper tantrum.”
I gripped my beer and stared down at the label with every ounce of willpower I had.
“Why?” she asked as Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dragged her away.
Thank god Josephine had the sense to follow him.
I stayed right where I was and finished off the beer I stole from Josephine with a sense of determination. As soon as I was done, I popped the cap off another one. Drinking away my problems was a new endeavor for me, one that I knew would never work in the long run. For now, I was only concerned with the next six hours (i.e. being stuck on a fucking boat with Josephine while my hormones raged inside me like a fourteen-year-old).
My plan was to drink beer until my vision blurred and my limbs went numb. That way I wouldn’t be in any danger of doing something stupid with Jo. I’d fully committed to my drinking-induced-coma plan when one of Dean’s friends, Kiki or Kenzie or something, sidled up beside me on the edge of the deck.
“Is that one for me?” she cooed, glancing down at the beer beside my foot. I glanced at her, back down to the drink, and then I shrugged. I wanted to tell her to go find her own drink. I had no clue how long we were sailing and there was a finite amount of liquor, but if she wanted to steal my beer, then so be it. I wasn’t an asshole.
“All right then,” she said with a laugh, like I was being funny.
I wasn’t.
“Are you usually this quiet?” she asked, turning toward me so that her knee