WET

  Contents

  Title Information

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Wet 2: London

  A Word From Maggie

  CATALOGUE #1

  CATALOGUE #2

  CATALOGUE #3

  CATALOGUE #4

  WET

  Maggie Carpenter

  Copyright © 2019 Dark Secrets Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Dark Secrets Press LLC.

  http://www.MaggieCarpenter.com

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  Maggie Carpenter's Books

  https://www.Amazon.com/author/maggiecarpenter

  PROLOGUE

  As she watched the handsome, dark-haired man board the ship, Brittany Carter's heart skipped. She needed a fling. A no strings wild romance. Wearing khaki slacks with a spotless white shirt that couldn't begin to hide his well-muscled arms, the dashing stranger towered over the porter. She was a first class passenger, and she prayed Mr. Gorgeous Man would be as well.

  "Duncan Rhys-Davies," he declared, approaching the steward.

  She caught her breath. Mr. Gorgeous Man had a distinctly British accent. It was too good to be true! She adored British men.

  "Welcome aboard, Sir. My name is Joe Gardner. Ah, Miss Carter," the steward said, catching sight of her as she casually moved closer. "Your staterooms are quite close to one another. If you're ready we can go there together."

  "Yes, yes, I'm quite ready," she replied, feeling Mr. Gorgeous Man's eyes on her.

  As they started off, Duncan Rhys-Davies ushered her forward, and offering him a soft smile she fell into step slightly behind the steward. The expense of a first-class ticket had given her pause, but now the extra money was worth every penny. Entering the elevator, the subtle scent of the sexy man's cologne teased her nostrils. Lifting her eyes she risked a sideways glance. He was looking directly at her, a half-smile curling the edges of his thick, luscious, insanely kissable lips. Her stomach burst into a somersault. She'd only experienced a somersault once before. In her first year at college the sexy quarterback had cornered her at a party, pinned her arms above her head, and kissed her. Deeply kissed her.

  Lifting her gaze, she caught Mr. Gorgeous Man's eyes.

  Blue with astonishing brown flecks, and long dark lashes framing their inviting stare.

  A covert glance at his left hand revealed no ring or suntan mark.

  "Miss Carter?" The steward's voice snatched her attention. "After you," he offered. "Turn to your left."

  Grateful she was wearing the provocative white and lemon silk dress with a halter top, she stepped into the hall. The cut accentuated her figure, and she was glad of the lift from the high-heeled sandals. She guessed Mr. Gorgeous Man was at least 6'2", and standing at 5'6" she needed the extra height.

  "Mr. Rhys-Davies, this is your stateroom," the steward announced, stopping at the third door and sliding a card key into the lock. "Your luggage will be arriving shortly. If you'll excuse me for just a moment I'll show Miss Carter to hers, then I'll be back to answer any questions you may have."

  "Nice to meet you, Miss Carter," Duncan said, his devilish grin sending a warm flush across her cheeks. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again."

  "Yes, I'm sure we will."

  He turned and walked into his cabin, but as the steward continued down the hall, she couldn't pull her eyes from the handsome Brit. His dark hair fell in a soft wave at the back of his neck, and his shoulders were wonderfully wide.

  "Miss Carter?"

  Embarrassed, she jerked her head around. The steward stood waiting a few doors down, and she hurried off to join him.

  "I'm one of three attendants who will be taking care of you during the cruise," he said as they entered the luxurious cabin. "Both the bedroom and living room open to a private deck shielded from your neighbors."

  Stepping outside she was disappointed to discover he was right. There'd be no opportunity to lean over the railing and wave to her handsome shipmate.

  "Feel free to call for service at any time," Joe continued, guiding her to the bedroom. "We're at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. Do you have any questions?"

  "No, thank you, Joe."

  "Then please excuse me."

  With a smile and a nod he left, and returning to the living room, she kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the couch.

  "Duncan Rhys-Davies," she said dreamily. "That's one heck of a name. Could he be my crazy fling? I hope so."

  Closing her eyes she pictured his panther-like walk, the sensuous twinkle in his hypnotic blue eyes, and his wicked grin with those kiss-me-now lips.

  He was all sex.

  He reeked of it, and she idly wondered if he was a man who enjoyed his women packaged in something slinky and sensuous, or a decadent outfit like garter belt and stockings. She carried salacious fantasies, but had yet to meet a man to make them a reality. Her pondering sent a need firing between her legs, and stretching out on the sofa, she slipped her hand under the waistband of her lacy lemon panties. In her mind's eye Mr. Gorgeous stood over her admiring the view laid out before him. Shuddering with the tantalizing imagery, her well-practiced fingers expertly circled her sensitive nub. She could see him naked, his member standing at attention, oozing drops of his need. The vision took hold, and as she let her mind wander, she pictured herself on all fours as he kneeled behind her and slowly peeled back her panties to spank her naked backside with gusto. Crying out as the eruption sent shock waves through her body, the spasms caused her back to arch and her legs to tighten, until finally sinking into the residual tingles, she let out a happy, satisfied sigh. Grabbing a throw cushion and cuddling it against her, she made herself a promise.

  "I'm going to make this happen with him! I don't know how, but I will."

  CHAPTER ONE

  Brittany watched and waited, but two days had passed and Duncan Rhys-Davies remained mysteriously missing. Though other men had approached her, she remained consumed by thoughts of the intriguing Brit. Each time she walked past his cabin, she prayed, by some miracle, it would open and he would appear. On the third morning, after indulging in a buffet breakfast served on the deck and returning to her room with no sign of him, her disappointment began turning into anger.

  "Why is it so damn difficult to bump into you?" she muttered as she changed into her bikini. "What's the point in taking a cruise if you're going to stay locked away in your stateroom day and night? I have to summon the courage and knock on your door."

  Ambling on to her private deck, she stretched out on the deeply cushioned lounge chair. The sun was mild, the sea twinkling, and the cool ocean breeze tickled her skin, but she found it impossible to relax. Moving to the railing she stared down at the foamy wake created by the immense ship as it powered through the water, then leaning forward she turned her head. The decks were designed for maximum privacy, and though she could peek around at the patio next to hers, the others remained hidden from view.

  "What do you
do all day, and who are you? What I wouldn't give to have a poke around your cabin."

  She'd done some crazy things in her life, and for a moment the notion tickled her, but dismissing it as completely ridiculous she returned to her lounge chair and sank into the soft, enveloping foam pad. Picking up one of several fashion magazines she began to flip through the pages, but after five minutes she threw it back down. Bored and frustrated she returned to her bedroom, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and headed off to the ship's jogging track. An avid runner, she pounded out the kilometers, but try as she might she couldn't exorcise the sexy man from her thoughts. Returning to her cabin, she took a long, hot shower, then donning her robe, she strolled into the lounge and dropped into the sofa. As she picked up the folder outlining the ship's activities and services, her eyes fell upon the advertisement for their massage therapies. Perhaps the hypnotic effect of kneading, practiced hands would erase Duncan Rhys-Davies from her thoughts, at least for a short time.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Brittany liked the spa the moment she stepped into the lobby. The subtle aroma of lavender filled the air, and the smiling receptionist offered her a glass of chamomile tea. It was only a moment later the attractive massage therapist appeared, introduced herself as Martha, and led Brittany into a warm, dimly lit room.

  "I'm sure you know the drill," Martha said. "I'll be back in a minute, and I hope I'll be able to erase that crinkle on your forehead."

  "I didn't realize I had one."

  "My eyes are trained," Martha replied with a wink. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

  Removing her clothes and covering herself with the thin sheet, Brittany nestled her face in the cushioned headrest.

  "Are you ready for me?" the therapist asked, tapping on the door.

  "So ready. I need this like you wouldn't believe."

  "This is a cruise," Martha said as she entered. "It's supposed to be relaxing."

  "Yeah, well, I've run into some stormy weather."

  "Let me guess. Is this a man problem?"

  "How did you know?"

  "It usually is. I'm like a priest or a doctor. If you want to talk about it, I won't tell a soul. Sometimes talking helps more than the massage."

  "Maybe you're right. It's not a big deal, not really. I met this guy when I first boarded and I can't stop thinking about him. He's British, which totally turns me on, and he's so good-looking he could be James Bond. He's driving me crazy."

  "That would drive me crazy too. Do you know his cabin number?"

  "That's what makes this so frustrating. He's only three doors down from me, but I haven't seen him. Not even a glimpse. Not once!"

  "Wow, your muscles just tightened. Take a deep breath. If you're so close by, maybe you should stake out his door, and when he leaves pretend to bump into him. He can't stay in his stateroom forever. Maybe he likes to be out when most people are sleeping. I knew a musician like that. He was a total night-owl."

  "A night owl," Brittany repeated. "Interesting. Huh. You might be right. I wonder if he's a celebrity and leaves his cabin late so no-one will bother him. He's handsome enough to be famous, that's for sure. Thanks, Martha. I love your suggestion. I'm going to do that. I'm so glad I came here."

  "You're welcome. Now you can chill and let me get these knots out."

  Martha's theory made sense, and surrendering to the deft fingers rubbing her back, Brittany let herself drift away to fantasies of meeting the elusive Mr. Rhys-Davies under the brilliant ocean stars.

  But fate stepped in with an unexpected surprise.

  Meandering down the corridor back to her room, she found the maid's trolley parked outside his door, and she paused to catch a quick glance. Her heart skipped. He was standing in the middle of the room with his back to the door! Dressed in navy shorts and a cream, loose fitting shirt, her eyes devoured his muscled arms, wide shoulders, and tanned, toned legs, but to her shock, as if sensing her gaze, he began to turn. Panicking, she ducked away and hurried to her cabin.

  "Oh, no! Why didn't I wave?" she muttered, leaning against the door. "Damn. I'm such an idiot."

  But a moment later she realized she was glad she hadn't. Wearing no makeup and disheveled from the massage, she was a mess. Moving into her bathroom, she stepped into the shower, and as the hot water splashed across her body she realized just how tired she was. The long jog, the deep tissue massage, and her ongoing obsession with the handsome Englishman had worn her out. Toweling off, she dressed in a white sundress and white sandals, then opening her door she peered down the hallway.

  Her heart leapt a second time.

  Duncan was outside his cabin, his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. Grabbing a chair, she sat down to resume her surveillance, and though the maid's trolley was still in place, the elusive Mr. Rhys-Davies had slipped away. Her shoulders slumped in dismay.

  "Damn, I need a nap," she muttered, surrendering to a heavy yawn. "I'll have a quick snooze then start watching in earnest."

  But just as she rose to her feet, Duncan Rhys-Davies reappeared in a dark blue track suit and running shoes. Her imagination suddenly ran rampant. He could be related to the royals, maybe a spy, or even a glamorous international jewel thief. Giggling at her wild thoughts, her cheeriness quickly faded as he marched down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

  Her eyes fell on the maid's trolley outside his cabin.

  Her crazy notion to have a quick snoop around his cabin suddenly popped into her head.

  She stepped into the passage.

  She knew the idea was completely foolish, but when she reached his open door the temptation overwhelmed her.

  She could hear the maid vacuuming in the bedroom.

  Though every bit of common sense she possessed told her to turn around and leave, she crept inside.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Seconds after her first furtive steps she heard the maid turn off the vacuum. Afraid she couldn't zip back into the hall without being seen, she made a panicked dash to wriggle behind the armoire positioned in the corner of the lounge. Finding refuge just as the maid entered, heart thumping and holding her breath, Brittany waited until she heard the cabin door click closed.

  The room fell eerily quiet.

  Letting out a relieved sigh, she moved from her hiding place and into the center of the lushly appointed cabin. Burgundy, chocolate brown and cream gave the space a far more masculine feel. By comparison, her stateroom bloomed like spring with an array of pastels, but the thrill of being in his cabin suddenly took hold. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, and telling herself she'd be quick, she scanned the room seeking out clues that might tell her more about the sexy Brit. A paperback on the side table next to the sofa caught her eye. Swiftly moving across the room, she picked up the book and studied the cover. The blood drained from her face. Fur covered handcuffs rested on the cream satin bedspread of a four poster bed. The scrawled title floating across the bottom of the page read, A Man's Discipline. A Woman's Secret Desires. Pulse racing, she opened the naughty novel to the bookmarked page.

  The hot sting burned Susan's naked backside, the feather tickling between her pussy lips had her dripping with desire, and she longed to plead for her release, but he had instructed her not to make a sound.

  Brittany's thighs tensed as the words swirled around her head. For years she'd secretly ached for a dominant, and endless nights she'd pleasured herself to thoughts of being tied up, blindfolded, and teased into oblivion.

  A loud click snapped her head around.

  The door handle moved.

  She'd never understood the term, frozen stiff, but she found herself unable to move as Duncan Rhys-Davies, tall, striking, and bigger than life, stepped inside. All she could do was watch the puzzled frown cross his brow.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  She tried to utter something—anything—but she couldn't find her voice.

  "Nothing to say? I believe security can take care of this," he dec
lared, striding purposefully past her to the phone on the coffee table.

  "I'm t-terribly s-sorry," she stammered, his unexpected threat breaking the spell.

  "I'm sure you are. Everyone's sorry when they've been caught."

  "I wasn't here to steal, honestly, I just wanted to, uh…"

  "To what?"

  "This is s-so embarrassing."

  "Embarrassing or not, I suggest you continue."

  "I'm really sorry. I, uh, I wanted to know more about you."

  "So you broke into my cabin?"

  "I thought you were interesting when we met boarding the ship, but I haven't seen you anywhere. Not in the dining room, on deck, anywhere."

  "Why didn't you just knock on my door?"

  "I, uh, don't exactly know," she answered sheepishly, feeling like a foolish teenager as her face flushed deep red. "Would you please just let me leave? This is painful, literally painful."

  "Painful? I'm not sure you know the meaning of the word," he remarked, taking a step towards her. "I see you're interested in that book."

  Realizing the steamy novel was still in her hands, she hastily dropped it back on the side table.

  "Sorry."

  "Pick it back up."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I said, pick it back up."

  A rush of tantalizing tension gushed through her body.

  "No? Then I will."

  As she watched in scarlet-faced horror, he strode past her, lifted the scandalous paperback and opened it to the bookmarked page.

  "The hot sting burned Susan's naked backside, the feather tickling between her pussy lips had her dripping with desire, and she longed to plead for her release, but he had instructed her not to make a sound."

  Brittany prayed desperately for the floor to split apart and swallow her in one, large, purposeful gulp.