To think the year prior, I’d been there alone because Riana couldn’t join me. That entire day, being his pricky self, Ricky ruined my holiday by asking questions that were none of his business and getting under my skin. No one could’ve predicted where we’d end up a year later.
Ricky insisted we keep the condo I rented for the times we would be visiting my parents or Sam and Lydia. Arguing that was an unnecessary expense proved to be in vain when he surprised me for my birthday by purchasing the damn thing. He claimed he always wanted a home base in Jersey. My ass, he did. The man was a total nutjob. Despite that, I still loved him hard.
Packing my life up while leaving a good part of it behind felt strange. Besides my clothes, personal items, books, and photos of my family, the rest of my stuff stayed for any future visits back home. Ricky went ahead and unpacked some of the clothes he had brought with him, shoving them into my closet and a few cleared-out drawers. He even went as far as purchasing other things he’d need to cover during the colder seasons.
As promised, the Saturday after Thanksgiving we flew back to Florida, but it had been nonstop since. After being there for a few weeks, we then spent our first Christmas with his mother and John in Indiana. From there, we spent the new year in California so we could visit my brother Griffin and his family. Our last stop was in Texas, where my sister Janis lived. By the time we jumped into our new reality in Florida, it was the middle of January.
Being back felt like rereading a beloved book. You kind of knew what was coming yet still reveled in every familiar minute.
Ricky eased back into a part-time working schedule, managing the behind-the-scenes tasks for RMR out of his office in Fort Lauderdale. I kept busy substituting or tutoring at the community college until a permanent position became available in University of Miami’s English department. I also started a book, a motivational homage, if you will, for anyone struggling with their sexuality. If I could help one teen, one person, by sharing my experience, then mission accomplished. It would probably take me years to finish it, but pouring my emotions through words I hadn’t voiced out loud was almost therapeutic.
As far as our relationship went, we fought like any other couple, but he has come a long way with his communications skills. If something was on his mind, he told me. If something worried him, he told me. If something pissed him off, he most definitely told me. I’d never forget after our first real fight how he so proudly included sweet potatoes with the dinner he had prepared, knowing I despised them.
Bastard.
Yes, our arguments were hot, fiery, and honest. But they always ended before we went to bed. Sometimes we just held each other; sometimes if he was at fault, he gave me a massage, which would lead to receiving one from me. He now loved them as much as I did. And our sex life was explosive. There was a time I’d wondered if I’d ever call the shots, and those concerns held no validity, since Ricky loved lying back and submitting to me as much as he loved taking control.
Overall, we were living our best lives… together.
“Where are you?” Ricky called out, his deep voice breaching the glass door behind me. There was no reason to respond, knowing he’d find me within seconds. Sure enough, he bolted onto the balcony, smirking when he saw me tapping away on my laptop. “Are you in the zone?” he asked, referencing what he considered my writing mojo.
“Yes, but has that ever stopped you from interrupting before?”
“No.” He pressed a hard kiss to my lips and plopped in the chair beside me. “You need to pack. We have less than an hour.”
“Pack for what?”
“I just decided we’re hopping on BV’s next voyage.”
“Did something happen?” Ricky, or even Marco, hadn’t been on board in a management role since last May.
“No. This trip will be purely for pleasure.” That was the way Ricky rolled—on a whim and impulsively. “What?” he asked when I blinked a few times, processing it.
“What if the university calls?”
“Then you’ll tell them you’ll be back in a week,” he responded with an eye roll. “You’re not the president, Cooper. You can take a trip without the world imploding.” Sensing my hesitance, he looked at his Rolex and added, “And now we only have fifty-seven minutes.”
“You’re exhausting. You do realize that, right?”
“And you wouldn’t want me any other way.”
Even though our real anniversary should’ve been marked in June when we’d come together as a couple, Ricky insisted that night on Bella Viaggi’s deck one year ago would be the day we forever celebrated as the moment our union truly began.
That was the reason he had me dropping everything to hop on board the ship, where we were now being treated like kings by his crew.
If anyone on staff had been shocked to see us embark as a couple, they didn’t reveal as much. Even their cruise director, Lara, schooled any surprise, remaining professional and accommodating, with a constant smile. Granted, I had to lecture Ricky and have him promise he wouldn’t embarrass her by alluding to the fact he knew she liked me.
As far as the guests on board, Ricky wasn’t interested in mingling with the small group traveling with us. He specifically asked his employees to keep the little detail of being co-owner to themselves, and during our stay we were just another couple on vacation. On deck, he kept it professional, refraining from PDA.
Behind doors, all bets were off. The man was insatiable, and now that we’d taken our relationship to the next level and way beyond, he constantly pushed the envelope by introducing kink. Not only had my sex life been hetero until him, but looking back it had also been very vanilla.
Speaking of our sex life, after having spent a day at the beach, we returned to our cabin where, by the time he was through with me, I felt boneless and drained. In need of a shower to wake me up before dinner, I emerged to find an empty suite. Assuming he’d sneaked into his office again, knowing the guests were getting ready for dinner, I began dressing for the same. But when I pulled opened the drawer holding our briefs, there was a handwritten note lying on top of my pile.
C ~
Meet me on deck at our spot to watch that sunset. I’ll be waiting.
R.
It had been something we’d done every night since embarking. We’d share a bourbon as the orange orb dipped into the azure sea. Once darkness fell, he and I would head inside to have dinner at a private table in the corner. I wondered why he felt the need tonight to formally inform me of that ritual.
Knowing the humidity had been ruthless all day, I threw on a pair of linen shorts, a simple cotton T-shirt, and a comfortable pair of boat shoes. It didn’t take long to finish my simplistic routine, and shortly after I made my way to our special spot.
A few guests mulled around the deck, enjoying the sunset before dinner. It wasn’t hard to find him, leaning over the railing, wearing a similar outfit to mine. I smiled to myself over the ongoing joke that my wardrobe had doubled after I began dating him. As I approached, I noticed a table set for two on the private deck, which was usually roped off for special occasions.
When he heard my footsteps, he turned with a smirk that could set me on fire. “You’re late,” he grumbled. “There’s like ten minutes left of daylight.”