Home > Taking His Risk (Year of the Billionaire #2)(6)

Taking His Risk (Year of the Billionaire #2)(6)
Author: K.C. Falls

"I've been asking them to do that for years."

"You should know that I am in frequent contact with the house. So, no worries."

I felt ashamed that I had not, in fact, been at all worried. I'd been so distracted and entertained by my mystery trip with my dream man that my poor parents' plight had more or less vanished from my mind. Now it was back.

Tristan must have seen the look of concern cross my face. "We have everything under control. Kwan's security is impeccable and Archie is moving right along in gathering the evidence we need to put the thugs behind bars for a very long time."

"But the men who want to 'make an example'--your words, Tristan--out of my father are still out there. And now my parents are back in Park Slope . . ." I guess I kind of whined the last words. I saw Tristan shoot Kwan a look I was glad wasn't meant for me as he guided me into the back of the car.

"We can't make a move until everything is in place. Please try to trust me, Raina." He patted my knee paternalistically. I half expected him to say 'there, there'. Funny how even under that circumstance the warmth of his hand went right to my core.

The car I climbed into had only two white leather reclining seats in the back. Kwan took his place in the fully enclosed chauffer's compartment in front of us. I looked up to see the top above our heads open noiselessly to the clear blue sky.

Once again, my curiosity got the better of me. The car was like nothing I had ever seen. Even the Maserati 'Batmobile' back in the Hills was at least recognizable as a sort of sedan. This vehicle was specifically designed for a chauffeur and one or two passengers. It reminded me of a space age hansom cab. "Tristan, what the hell are we riding in?"

"Maybach Landaulet," he answered, obviously way too pleased that I had asked. "Very limited production. It's just the perfect car for the South of France."

We zipped along through a fairly modern town, at least by French standards. Soon the Mediterranean came into view and we hugged the coast passing white sand beach after white sand beach.

"This is the town of Agde. I brought you here because it is probably the world's largest naturist place in the world. At the height of the season, there are almost 40,000 naked people in the naturist village part of Cap d'Agde. It isn't a place to linger long, but once in a while it makes for an interesting experience."

I was at a loss. I wondered what was expected of me.

"I thought it would be good for you to discover how liberating it can be to enjoy the sun, a meal or a drink, even a little shopping wearing nothing but your beautiful skin," Tristan said matter-of-factly as if he were proposing we take a pleasant hike or a dip in a pretty lake.

We arrived at a marina and Kwan pulled up beside a yacht. King's Risk looked huge to me. It was easily the largest private boat I'd ever seen in person.

"I can't stand the actual hotels here at Cap d'Agde. About the only thing I can say about them is that they're clean. So, we'll stay on King's Risk. I keep her exclusively in the Med. She's a sweet little boat--perfect for a small sea like the Mediterranean."

"Little boat?"

"This boat isn't even considered a mega-yacht. She's only a hundred and twenty feet. I've never been much of a boat person, really. If we get a wild hair to sail around the world in style, there's always charter."

Did he know what it did to my insides when he threw out a casual 'we' like that?  Everything else receded while my brain took a time out to sing 'he said we! he said we! he said we!'.

We got out of the car and I was welcomed aboard the boat by Captain Shane, a nice looking guy from Palm Beach, Florida. The steward, Carlos, escorted us to a deck space encircled by leather cushioned seats. There was a bucket of champagne and glasses waiting for us there. Carlos popped the cork and left us.

I cleared my throat. "So, uhm, we're here to 'experience' a nude beach?"

"Not just any nude beach. And not just a beach, either. This may be the only place in the world where you can go to a bank, buy groceries or have your hair cut in the buff."

I had to laugh out loud at the image of a naked barber shearing Tristan's locks. But it was a bit of a nervous laugh.

"You're game aren't you? I mean it isn't as if you're the only naked person around. Just you, me and thousands of others." If his boyish grin was meant to be persuasive, it worked.

I was ready to do anything to please this man, even if it meant shedding my clothes in front of thousands of strangers. I told him as much. "If it makes you happy to see people staring at me . . ."

"Oh don't be ridiculous. The whole point is no one is going to stare at you. We're all naked. There are families on that beach--with little kids." My eyes widened at that statement. "Unless you go to the adults only section, it's all pretty tame. Seniors, kids, fat, young, beautiful, skinny, scarred, natural and un. They're all there."

Tame, just naked tame. I'd been skinny dipping at a couple of lifeguard parties. That wasn't terrible. Of course, it was in the dark and it was all people I worked with and saw in bathing suits every day.  How bad could that be?

But hundreds of strangers seemed a lot different.

Three

We spent the evening in the clothed part of Cap d'Agde. L'Ami Louis was a tiny restaurant just a block from the marina. It had a lovely view of the sea and the food couldn't have been better. I had my first taste of foie gras and in spite of my initial reservations; I wound up absolutely gobbling it down.

"Tristan," I had objected, "I hate liver. Liver in any form is disgusting. I've tried it many ways. People have twisted my arm over the years telling me how good this liver or that liver is and the bottom line is that it all tastes like liver. Bleh."

He promised that he would service my body in any way I desired if I would only give the poor fatted goose's organ a chance. Even though I knew that wasn't much of a promise considering that he'd do that anyway I made him promise to suck my toes while he fucked me senseless.

"That will demand a good bit of flexibility on your part, but if you can manage, I'll happily comply. Now try the liver."

The foie gras had been lightly sautéed and served on a simply dressed bed of greens. I took a timid bite. The liver melted like a chocolate truffle against the roof of my mouth. "Oh God. It tastes like a slab of fried butter. Now I see what all the fuss is about."

"Now say, 'I'm sorry Tristan, I'll never doubt you again'"

"I'm sorry Tristan. I'll never doubt you again."

"That's more like it." He reached across the table and stroked one and then the other cheek with the back of his cool fingers. "Have I told you how beautiful, how superbly and utterly desirable you look tonight?"

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