"Yes, thank you, Manuel," she said, holding out her empty glass.
Manuel took the glass, and their fingers brushed. Karen experienced a rush of lust so powerful that she almost gasped aloud. Blushing, she looked around hastily to see if anyone had noticed her horny reaction to Manuel. My God, it seemed as if she could think of nothing but sex from the instant she stepped onto this yacht!
Phil sat close beside her but hadn't been watching her. He was listening to Harry. Phil was handsome enough, but his slightly receding hairline and horn-rimmed glasses made him look very studious. So did the pipe he always had in his mouth. He was wearing skimpy navy blue swimming trunks, and he looked good in them, but somehow he lacked the animal magnetism of dark-eyed Manuel.
Harry Rosen, owner of the yacht, was about fifty and had a thick head of silver hair. He was a big bearish man, but by no means fat. Karen sensed great power in him, harsh strength, even though he laughed a lot and was the perfect host. Like his steward he was tanned practically the color of roast turkey. Beside him, rubbing him down with suntan lotion, was his current mistress, Luann Hart.
Luann was about the same age as Karen, but next to her Karen felt dumpy and middle-aged. Luann had been a starlet briefly before she recognized her own lack of talent and decided to let Harry support her. She'd learned all the Hollywood tricks of make-up and dress, and she always looked as if she'd just stepped off a movie set. Tall, slender, red-haired, she had large melon-shaped breasts that practically popped out of her tiny bikini bra. Karen noticed that even Phil, her studious husband, kept ogling Luann's cleavage.
Oh, well, she couldn't blame him. Their marriage was getting pretty dull after five years. He looked at other women now, and she looked at other men. Still, Karen wasn't all that bad-looking, even if she lacked. Luann's super-sophisticated style. In fact Karen looked pretty good – as she could tell from the way Manuel's eyes swept hungrily over her body.