Chapter 9: Doppelbanger: Chapter 9

I ABANDONED JEFF at the Little Fish camp over an hour ago with an invitation to the party that’s about to go down in my vag.

The man infuriates me with his holier-than-thou attitude, but dear Lord, that dick is huge. His cock alone is almost enough to make me forgive him for being a total asshole. I’m just about to give up and pull out my bullet when there’s a knock at the door.

Butterflies run rampant in my tummy at the anticipation.

Jumping up from the couch, I rush over to the mirror and plump up the girls in my suit top. I pull my mesh cover up over to one side, exposing one shoulder and a fair amount of cleavage before pulling the door open to find Mr. CEO smirking up at me from his chair. There’s a light sheen of sweat across his forehead, no doubt from the exertion it took to wheel himself all over the damn ship. Serves him right. His hair is mussed, a few strands sticking to the skin along his hairline. His white V-neck fits his lean muscled chest to perfection, and judging by the bulge in his khaki cargo shorts, he’s just as eager for round two as I am.

A deep throaty laugh draws me from my visual assault. “You gonna invite me in, Tink? Or did you really invite me over here so you could eye fuck me in the hall?” He peers around my body, appraising his surroundings. “I’m told this is the place for medically prescribed orgasms?” He quirks his left brow, pulling his lower lip between a set of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth.

Why’s he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

“Didn’t think you’d come,” I admit, moving into the doorway of the small bathroom, allowing enough space for him to enter the room. His chair just barely fits between the set of bunk beds on the left and the closet on the right.

“Doctor’s orders.” Jeff shrugs his shoulders as he stands from the wheelchair, bracing most of his weight on his good leg.

The front of my body brushes his as I scoot past him to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. The contact has my already eager body going haywire. “Thought you weren’t the kind of man to take orders.”

Another half-smile. “Only those that suit me.”

The ship jerks, and my tummy does a little flip. “Are you saying that I suit you, Jeffrey?”

He hobbles over to stand before me. “I think we established last night that your pussy—” he cups my sex, leaning in so close that I can feel his warm breath on my neck—“suits my dick just fine.” Heat floods my core as he grips two handfuls of my long blonde locks, turning my face up to meet his. “Am I mistaken?”

I clear my throat and straighten my stance, evening out my breathing to the best of my ability. The last thing I need is this cocky man thinking he’s got the upper hand. Which he may very well have…he just doesn’t need to know it. “I think you should thank God every night that he gave you one redeeming quality.” Smiling sweetly at the man who I am just barely not ravishing, I trail my finger along the impressive bulge in his pants.

Jeff laughs, loudly. His whole face lights up, and I feel the sound rumble deep in my belly. “Are you saying my dick is my only redeeming quality?”

“That…and these little lines right here.” Lifting up to my toes, I touch a finger to the tiny creases that appear in the corners of his eyes when he smiles. My breath hitches when he melts into my touch. “These are kind of nice too,” I admit, my voice hoarse.

Jeffrey wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest. “You like my wrinkles, Tink?”

“Ju—just those three.” Who am I right now, and did I really just admit to being attracted to wrinkles of all things? Ew.

He nods. “Got it. I’ll make sure to tell them to leave just the three when I venture into the world of Botox.”

That comment causes me to giggle. After having met up with him getting his nails done, I can easily visualize it: Jeffrey sitting in the dermatologist’s chair, getting injections. “Don’t,” I finally manage to wheeze out.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t let anyone mess with your face.”

He gives me a knowing look. “You like my face too, then…seems like I have a whole lot more than one redeeming quality to be grateful for.”

“Don’t get carried away, Casanova. Your looks are the only thing you have going for you.”

“Is that right?” he asks.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Jeffrey, but your personality leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Does it?” he clips, running his hands up my bare back along the inside of my coverup.

A chill ripples through me at the intimate touch. “You’re a bit of an asshole.”

“That’s still two.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot about king dong.” He pushes his hips forward, digging the steel rod in his shorts into my belly button.

How could I forget? “Right,” I groan, reaching between us to unfasten his button and zipper. “Mustn’t forget that.” Dropping to my knees, I slide his shorts down, past his hips, freeing what has to be nearly nine inches of man meat. Now, I’ve seen a lot of dick in my day and am not too easily impressed, but this has to be a near-perfect specimen. Long and thick. Neatly trimmed. My mouth actually salivates at the thought of wrapping my lips around his girth.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans as I run my tongue from base to tip. He braces himself with one hand on the vanity top behind him and fists the other into my hair, slowly guiding my movements.

“Mmmm,” I moan, getting turned on by the little noises coming from the back of his throat, by the feel of him growing impossibly harder beneath my skilled moves, knowing that I am the cause of his weak knees and grunts.

I’m really getting into it, sucking him hard, while taking him all the way down my throat, when the boat shifts. My usual nonexistent gag reflex cannot compete with the weak stomach I’ve been fighting all day and it happens: bright pink, rancid strawberry puke all over his beautiful cock.

“Holy shit!” Jeff shouts, backing out of my mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” I choke out as I reach for the shirt I slept in last night that’s lying on the floor by the side of the bed to wipe my mouth and nose. The alcohol burns so bad, and I can’t stop gagging. “It’s not you.”

Before Jeffrey has the chance to react, the intercom system beeps. “Medical response team please report to room #628.”

“Goddamn it! That’s my room.” He starts scrambling to pull up his vomit covered clothes without wasting a single second for clean-up. “The kids…”

And then it dawns on me. The older kids can check themselves out of camp. What if something happened to them? “Get in your chair, Jeffrey.”

Like a madwoman I sprint down the halls as fast as I can pushing a man twice my size in a wheelchair, probably bowling over a few unassuming passengers in the process. They should have put a horn on that thing. “What if something happened to Vangie?”

The sick look on his face brings tears to my eyes. For such a surly man, he is an amazing father. I don’t know what to say, so I just rub his shoulders as we wait for the elevator to stop at his floor.

When we reach his room, there are already medical personnel inside. We can’t even see past the doorway to figure out what the hell is happening. “Excuse me,” Jeffrey barks. “This is my room. What’s going on?”

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Evangeline and Landon come running from the direction of the elevators, with Lake on their heels. “I heard them page the medics to our room.”

The staff members come pouring out of the room with looks of confusion. “Is this your cabin, sir?” one confirms with Jeffrey.

“Yes. What the hell’s going on?” Patience is obviously not one of his virtues.

“We were paged for a medical emergency to this room, but there’s no one here. I apologize. They must have gotten the cabin number wrong.”

Jeffrey jumps up out of his chair, ready to unleash his wrath on the poor workers who were only doing their job. He’s understandably upset, but not thinking rationally.

“It’s okay.” I interject. “We were just worried about the kids, is all. I hope whoever really needs you is okay.”

“What’s all over your pants?” Evangeline asks her father as I push down on his shoulders, forcing him back into his chair.

Jeffrey’s face turns beet red. His breathing is panicked. My evil side wants to wait and see what excuse he comes up with, but I decide the asshole has been through enough trauma for one day and come to his rescue. After all, I did just throw up all over his dick.

“He got seasick and vomited. I was helping him back to the room when we heard the page and came running.”

Vangie and the twins look at the crippled CEO and smirk.

“Well, he didn’t run. I ran. Like a bat out of fucking hell.”

“Language, Tink!” Jeffrey bellows, taking his frustration out on me.

“Oh, shut it.”

“Wait,” Lake says with a puzzled look on his face. “Why were you two together? I thought you hated each other.”

“We do,” Jeff insists. “She’s infuriatingly overbearing. How do you kids stand it?”

Evangeline huffs in frustration. “God, Daddy. Do you have to be so mean? She’s helping you and you’re just…you’re just !”

He gets a pained look on his face, pulling his lips into a flat line. “You’re right, Vangie.” He turns to me and gives a half-assed apology before motioning for his daughter to go ahead of him into the room. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. We’ll see you later,” he says, dismissing me and the boys.

“You sure you don’t need some help with that mess?” I offer, enjoying his discomfort a little more than I should be.

“No,” he growls. “You’ve done quite enough.”

“Great. After all of this, I think I need a drink.”

Jeff looks down into his lap and dry heaves. “I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing you need.”

After stopping at one of the bars for a cocktail—because he’s not my fucking boss—the boys and I go back to the room to get ready for dinner. When I push the door open, the twins’ noses crinkle in disgust.

“Oh my God,” Lake groans, walking into the room. “What died in here?”

Oh, shit.

“Gigi…” Landon says, suspicion coloring his tone. “Did the CEO get sick in room?”

Holding their noses, the boys look around at the evidence all over the carpet in front of the vanity and on my sleep shirt.

I’m not about to tell these kids I puked on his fucking dick. “Yes. Okay. Don’t tell Vangie.” I eye Landon, who’s sporting an evil smirk. “I mean it. Jeffrey already can’t stand me.”

“He can’t stand you so much that you two were hanging out in our room together?” Landon asks.

“Near your bed…” Lake adds.

I cross my arms on my chest, looking up at the ceiling and around the room. “Anywhere in the cabin is near the bed, smart ass.”

“I’m sure you two were what? Playing cards?” I want to slap that smirk right off Lake’s face.

“Exactly,” I agree.

Landon hangs his head, laughing as he echoes my lie. “Exactly.”