Page 25 of Big Girl Panties

Matt's laugh was low and dangerous. "Would I do that on a first date?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're into that kinky shit."

He stopped walking so suddenly that I nearly crashed into him. The scent of his cologne hit me like a freight train of bad decisions.

Turning to me, his eyes widened.

"What?" I lifted one shoulder. "We listen and we don't judge." He laughed. "I don't kink shame. Well, unless you're actually going to kill me, then I'm totally judging you."

"Trust me," his voice dropped to a rumble, "when I'm ready to get you wet, it won't be with seawater."

My brain short-circuited. Heat flooded my cheeks, traveled down my neck, and pooled somewhere much lower. "I, what, did you just…"

"Sunset dinner cruise," he continued smoothly like he hadn't just made my ovaries explode with a single sentence. "Unless you'd prefer the wet thing."

I loved sunsets, but I one-hundred percent preferred the wet thing. Our relationship had just graduated from flirtatiously playful to dirty talk, and I wasn't mad about it.

"So is it like one of those fancy cruises where you eat and then go up to watch the sunset?" I'd watched those yachts leave the bay several nights a week.

"Kind of." My brows pulled together, and the corner of his lip lifted with amusement. "We are taking a private yacht."

"A private yacht," I repeated. "Like, I mean, is it your yacht?"

He chuckled. "No, it's a friend's boat. He does this rental thing with it, and it was available tonight, so he's loaning it to me."

My face split into a grin as my hands clapped together under my chin, and I practically started skipping.

"Someone seems excited," he smiled. I nodded. "Oh, thank God. I thought this might be over the top for a first date?"

I shook my head. "No. It's my idea of a perfect date." His chest puffed out a little with pride. "I love boating and I love sunsets and…" I paused for a moment, wondering if I should admit to him how long I'd wanted to take a dinner cruise.

"And?"

"And when I go to the beach right down from my apartment to watch the sunset, I always see the dinner cruises leaving, and… and I always wanted to go on one."

We approached what could only be described as a floating palace. A 137-foot yacht that probably cost more than my entire bloodline would ever see, and my dad was a pretty successful lawyer with his own firm.

"Holy shit." My jaw dropped as I took in the yacht's size. "This is your friend's boat?"

As if summoned, a small army of crew members in crisp white uniforms appeared, led by a distinguished older man who looked like he'd sailed out of a luxury magazine.

"Mr. Strickland," the captain greeted Matt with the kind of respect usually reserved for royalty or drug lords. "I'm Captain Rockford, and this is your service team: Kaylin, Whitney, and our award-winning chef, Gabriel."

I accepted a champagne flute from Kaylin.

"If you two want to follow Kaylin," Captain Rockford gestured toward the petite brunette. "She'll escort you to your table, and I will get us off the dock."

"I’ve prepared a five-course meal based on your preferences for dinner," Chef Gabriel announced in an accent so French it should come with subtitles.

"Preferences?" I whispered to Matt as we followed Kaylin onto the yacht. "You gave them my preferences?"

He flashed me a wicked smile that made my stomach flutter.

The tour was a blur of marble and mahogany, but I couldn't focus on anything except the way Matt's hand kept finding the small of my back, guiding me through doorways, his touch burning through the thin fabric of my dress.

We ended up on the back deck at a table that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, candles, roses, linen napkins that probably cost more than my rent.

"Matt," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "this is…" There wasn't a word strong enough to describe how perfectly beautiful this was.