Page 21 of Enjoying the Ride

“Um, I think we should practice for the interview,” I say softly.Of course, I want to confront him about the other women.Is he seeing any of them?Is he doing to them what he did to me?But somehow, I’m too shy, even if I’m miserable at the thought that he’s pleasuring other contestants as well.

Trek inclines his head.“Then let’s get started.”

I sit up a little straighter and reluctantly pull my hand out of Trek’s warm grasp.He angles his body so that he’s facing me, and I do the same.An outsider might look at the two of us and assume we’re having a deep heart to heart, each one of us poised to observe everything we can about the other.

“Looks matter, Posey,” Trek begins.“As does demeanor and overall behavior.For better or worse, these are the traits that others tend to notice about us first.”

I nod.“I understand,” I concur politely.“We judge books by their covers.”

“Unfortunately, people do.But you’re beautiful,” Trek continues, “and you handle yourself well in big groups—you stand out.”

I smile at the compliment, a genuine expression this time.“Thank you,” I acknowledge in a demure voice.

“Now, the interviews are a chance for the judges to get to know you better.The judges are looking for what drives you, or how you might act in certain situations,” he explains.

I nod along, genuinely curious to know what kinds of questions I might be asked on stage.

Trek grabs a notebook from the coffee table in front of us and flips it open.He makes some notes as he talks.

“As you know, the winner of this pageant will be offered a job as a hostess, and certain skills are required for this type of work.”

“Okay sure,” I acknowledge.I’m tempted to lean over so that I can sneak a look at the notes in Trek’s hands but resist the urge.

He finally looks up at me, his sharp blue eyes catching and holding my gaze.I’m spellbound, completely at the mercy of this sexy, beautiful man whom I can’t figure out, but who I’m determined to know more of.

“Are you ready, Red?”Trek inquires in a low, silky voice.

The question feels full of meaning, and I swallow against the excitement that rises up within me.

“I’m not really sure that I have a choice,” I agree, my own voice shaky.

And so, for the next half hour, I let Trek into my mind, and even further into my heart.But is he seeing other women at this very moment?After our pageant prep, will he take up with another girl, smiling as she comes all over his tongue?The thought twists me up inside, and I’m simultaneously horny and upset.But what do I do?Even worse, what choice do I have?Trek makes the rules …and I have to follow them.

8

Trek

The last few days have been pure torture.

It started when I had read Posey’s file.Like a man obsessed, I snuck her photo into my pocket to study further in the privacy of my own rooms.

Even worse, when I finally saw the sassy redhead in person, I practically lost my shit.Watching her sit there and fidget, finally able to touch her but having to control the intense urge, I grew mad at how much influence this stranger had over my control.It was fucking ridiculous how much my entire being demanded that I know Posey, possess her, and make her mine.

The problem only worsened when I tried to talk myself out of going to Posey’s dressing room the other day.

I’m not the kind of man who denies himself access to women.I’ve shared plenty of intimate moments while enjoying female bodies because I’m not an animal.But Posey was temptation personified.Ihadto see her, taste her, take her body and fill her with my seed.I’ve experienced desire before.Hell, most of the women who work on our island are the hottest ones around.

Yet the doubt, theif, of whether or not I should give in to my desire… that’s a new one for me.For the first time in my life as adult, I knew that she wielded control over me, and I would let her.

And now, sitting inches away from Posey on this ridiculously small couch, the bed in the next room practically screaming for me to throw her onto it, I’m experiencing those same doubts.In the span of five minutes, I’ve hurt her feelings, been too blunt, and somehow lost control of this process.

Yet there’s something bothering her too, and I don’t know what it is.Oh, I can guess.But she’s biting her lip while refusing to meet my eyes.Her hands are twisting in her lap, and I know there’s something going on in that big, beautiful brain.

Maybe this interview will reveal a thing or two, I muse as I jot down a few notes.

“So, Red,” I begin, keeping things light for now.“According to your file, you’re nineteen?”

The beautiful woman nods.“That’s right,” she acknowledges, shooting me a smile that almost immediately fades.

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