The wind in his hair. The smell of salt filling his nostrils. This was it. The perfect life.
Here he was king. Captain of his ship. So what if it was a two man craft (at most)! It was his! He was king! No one could push him around here. This was his kingdom, his world, and he was master.
A rude awakening splashed in on his reflections, the wake from his father's yacht. He looked after, wondering who the blond wearing nothing but a bikini and his father's embrace was.