Chapter 6---Bold move
Arielle's POV
The ocean looks endless.
From up here on deck, the horizon is nothing but deep blue, rolling into a sky that burns gold at the edges. The yacht hums beneath my bare feet, steady, powerful. A seagull calls overhead, and it all just seems magical.
It’s peaceful. It's perfect.
But it's also torture as Zane is shirtless and none of my imaginations could have ever prepared me for the sight before me.
He’s leaning against the rail, talking to my father about something business-like.
But I don't care what it is. All I can think about is the way the sunlight catches on the smooth curve of his broad shoulders.
His tats and scars twist and curve across his skin in beautiful patterns and writings. I desperately want to read them all and hear each tale, but I can't see them from where I stand.
Except for a name, that is.
"Julie."
It's on his left chest and I can't help the jealousy that washes over me from the sight of another woman's name adorning his skin.
I know I have no right to feel hurt but knowing that doesn't change how I feel .
I spend a good hour obsessing about who she might be. But Zane doesn't seem like the type of man to lie. If he said there was no woman in his life, then maybe there wasn't.
Maybe there had been, but they ended things or she..... died.
And as awful as that sounds, the idea of her being dead, consoles me.
At least, it'll be impossible for her to return.
His skin gleams under the sunlight, his shoulders flexing every time he adjusts the sails, veins standing out along his forearms in a way that has no business being this distracting.
And of course, he wouldn’t even look at me. Not once.
All morning, Zane has been careful. The kind of careful that screams he's aware of me, and that avoiding me is very much intentional.
Which only makes me want to poke at that composure until it cracks.
My brain keeps spiraling down a tunnel of sinful thoughts.
Each time he smiles or speaks, I clench my thighs in need.
Meredith had planted the seed earlier when we first arrived—leaning in with that mischievous grin, whispering like she was sharing state secrets. “Caught him staring at your ass today. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
I hadn't. But I was very pleased.
I put on a bikini in hopes that it'd catch his attention and to think that it did? I'm thrilled.
••••••••••
The day goes by in a blur of laughter and sun. Jack spends half an hour bragging about a deal he’d just closed, Mom and dad keep talking and giggling in hushed tones and it's the most romantic thing I've seen them do in a while.
Meredith hasn't stopped texting her current crush.
And I lay out on the deck pretending to tan while really I'm stealing glances at Zane.
Dinner ends, and the day slips into night.
We all gather on deck under a sky littered with stars. The air is cooler now, the scent of salt sharper. The yacht sways gently beneath us, a soothing rhythm that makes me want to close my eyes and drift—except I can’t, because Zane is lying back in a lounge chair across from me, hands behind his head, looking like a sin I shouldn’t even be able to imagine.
One by one, everyone starts disappearing.
“Alright, I’m going to bed,” Jack says, stretching like a cat.
"Goodnight, looser." Meredith says and Jack goes below deck.
Mom kisses my forehead. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t.”
She glances at Zane. "You too, Z"
Looking up from his phone. "Yes ma'am." He says before placing the phone aside and shutting his eyes.
Mom and dad leave together.
"Goodnight, you two" Meredith says as she disappears below deck too.
Now it’s just us.
The waves lap against the hull. The deck is quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint creak of wood. Zane hasn’t moved. His eyes are closed, his breathing steady.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I say.
He opens his eyes slowly, like he’s annoyed I broke his peace. "Yes, I have.”
I'm a little surprised by his reply and it takes me a moment to recollect my thoughts.
"Why?" My voice comes out strained from my nerves.
He doesn't answer right away. When he finally does, his voice is low. “I think you know why.”
The way he says it has my stomach twisting. He doesn't sound angry. He sounded… like a man trying not to step into a trap he's seen coming from a mile away.
Undettered, I lean back again, stretching out. The movement, slow and deliberate. One knee bent, the other leg extended, my toes pointing lazily.
His eyes flick down for half a second before snapping back to the sea.
But I see it. And I see something else, too—a subtle, undeniable shift in his posture.
My gaze drops, and I'm immediately wet. His shorts are strained from his huge bulge.
Fuck.
“Zane,” I murmur, my voice filled with need. “do you always look this tense when you’re relaxing?”
He turns to me then, really turns, and I see the warning in his expression. “Arielle. Stop.”
“Stop what?” My tone is pure innocence, even though my heart is thudding so loud I can barely hear my own voice over it .
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Maybe I do.”
His hands curl into fists against the armrests of his chair.
“Go inside,” he says, voice tight.
“No.”
“Go. To. Bed.”
“Make me.”
He sucks in a long breath and I know he's hanging on by a thread. I hope it burns.
" I won't repeat myself." His voice is low, steady—so controlled it makes my pulse kick.
Something must be immensely wrong with me, cause instead of being scared, I'm thrilled.
"Then don't." I beg.
The moonlight catches the planes of his face, the shadows across his collarbone, the ink on his skin. He is still lying there, but his body is taut, every muscle locked like he is bracing for something.
Slowly, I get up and walk towards him.
Not like a girl heading to ask a question. No. Like a predator closing in on its prey.
My steps are measured, my gaze fixed on his, and the faintest hint of a smirk curls my lips.
His eyes darken as I come closer, and for the first time all day, he doesn't look away.
I stop right at the edge of his chair, leaning down just enough for him to smell the salt on my skin, the faint coconut of my sunscreen.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.
But what he does next has my blood running cold. And my fists balling in rage.
He laughs
and say in that low evil voice that would naturally have had me weak in the knees.
" Stop acting like a cheap slut, Arielle and go to bed."