Rapture's Rendezvous

The low-cut dress gaped open even more at the top, catching Sam's eyes. Grace swung her hips around so the back of her arched against the front of Sam, then back around so her breasts barely brushed against his arm. “Do you understand? Huh?” she added, winking.

Sam's face became all smiles as his foot released Alberto's hand. “Sure. Don’ know whut I was a thinkin’ on,” Sam laughed. He reached down and began to help Alberto with the money, even thrusting it into Alberto's breeches pockets. “Go on, lad,” he added. “Take yore leave. Damn sorry if I bothered y

ou. Don’ know what gets in my head at times.”

Alberto's thoughts were swirling, not understanding at all what could have changed this man's mind so fast. But one look upward at Grace made him understand how and why any man could be swayed by such a smile as hers. And her fingers. She did have a way of touching a man. How could any man say no to her?

A slight tinge of jealousy raced through Alberto, though. He knew that Sam would more than likely b'e reaching up inside Grace's skirt also, probably even right after Alberto had finished. It was apparent that this was Grace's way of life. He knew that it should disgust him, but it only excited him more.

Leaning down, Grace whispered into Alberto's ear. “Ready?” she said. “I have a cozy cabin below deck. I'll show you things there you never dreamed imaginable.”

Feeling the pulsebeat quickening in his throat, Alberto pushed the last of the money inside his pockets and straightened his back. “Show the way,” he said, putting his arm around Grace's waist, following along beside her. He felt proud that he was one of the many who had first chance with Grace this day. Maybe if he played this newest deck of cards right, he could spend even the full day with her.

With a fleeting glance around him, pangs of conscience pierced his heart, like arrows being shot into it. He knew that he should be searching for Maria, but knew also that this chance to be with a woman might be too fleeting to pass by. And wasn't Maria capable of taking care of herself? Surely she was just wandering around on top deck, exploring, as she was prone to do. He had teased her about this adventurous side to her nature many times. So often while on the outskirts of Pordenone, she would tarry behind and get lost in some field, straying, hunting for some beautiful butterfly, or dog that had gone yapping into the underbrush. Surely she was only noseyingabout now. The rains had washed the decks clean. Before, she hadn't wanted to wander off because of the filth. Now? She had reason to.

“And might you have a friend on deck?” Grace said, seeing Alberto's steady gaze around him. “Do you have a wife who might, uh, miss you for a while?”

Alberto cleared his throat nervously. “No,” he said thickly. “I don't have a wife.” Did he look old enough to have a wife? Maria had often told him that he looked older than his age of sixteen. Had she been correct in saying this? Damn. It made him quite proud of his six-foot height and broad shoulders. He felt like an older man, with feelings fast encompassing him that he knew older men must have every day of their lives. But older men usually had wives to share these feelings, with whom they could release their sexual tensions.

This day he would take from this wench all she was capable of giving him. He hastened his footsteps as they reached the doorway that led downward.

“So you are alone on this voyage?” Grace asked, finding it hard to keep up with his long stride. God. Did she have an eager one on her hands. But, he would soon find that he shouldn't have been so easy.

“No. Not quite,” he answered.

Shadows fell across Grace's face. “Then … who .. . might you be with?”

Alberto now bent his shoulders and leaned down, for to stand upright would mean for his head to scrape against the low ceiling of this long, low hallway that he was being guided down. He stepped high, to miss a stray, empty wine bottle that was suddenly at his feet. He squinted his eyes, seeing only the dim lighting from the whale oil lights that lined this wall. “My sister Maria,” he finally answered, brushing his hands along the wall, to steady himself as Grace stepped in front of him, to place a key into a lock.

Grace turned to Alberto, reaching up to touch his face before pushing the door open. “Then you have no father or mother aboard this ship?” she asked coyly. “Just you and your sister?”

“And why does it even matter?”

“I only wish to show interest in anyone I take to my personal bunk,” she answered. “That's all.”

“Then now you know all you have to know to take this man to your bunk,” Alberto said, taking the liberty to swing the door aside, revealing a semi-dark room, occupied only by a long, thin bunk. Discarded, uneaten food lay scattered across the floor, along with more strewn, empty wine bottles. One lone whale oil lamp flickered in pale goldens on the cabin's outside wall. Alberto screwed his nose up, wiping it with the back of a hand. The aroma of this cabin was one similar to dried urine and feces, making his stomach almost turn. His eyes tilted in wonder. “And this is your cabin? It isn't as clean as I imagined … or as fully furnished.”

Grace swung her hips smoothly as she walked on past him, making her fully gathered blue silk dress rustle enticingly. Her hair shone in rustic coppers as it bounced atop her shoulders and her lips moved seductively as she talked. “A bunk is all that is required for my services,” she said. She pulled at his hand, urging him onward. “Now isn't that right, darlin'? And a maid I'm not. Who worries about a bit of filth when there are more interestin’ things to set a mind to wanderin'?”

When she had succeeded at getting Alberto inside the cabin, she shut the door and turned to him, slowly tantalizing him with her lips and fingers as she began to unbutton his shirt.

“Yeah. I'm sure,” he mumbled, then couldn't help himself when he yanked her into his arms, smothering her with kisses on the fullness of her lips, then down-ward, to brush his tongue across her breasts. She was right. There were more things of interest in this cabin to make one forget any ugliness about it. She was here. His heart thundered inside him .. . anxious. . . .

She giggled noisily, pulling away from him, teasing him with her eyes. “Whoa. Slow down,” she purred, reaching back to unfasten her dress. She stepped out of it, slow but sure, all the while watching him and how he was openly panting after her. “Well?” she added. “You gonna do it with your breeches on?” She stopped long enough to touch him where his swollen member throbbed against the tight confines of his breeches.

“No,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “Guess not.” His fingers busied with unbuttoning his breeches, then stepped from them as she continued to shed her clothes, until she stood nude before him, appearing eager, ready….

He wanted to hurry with his attack, yet she looked so lovely with the whale oil lights reflecting onto her skin of ivory. It was as though a sunset was in this room . . . casting warm glows of gold rippling down the front of her. “You are so breathtakingly beautiful,” he whispered, reaching to touch her. His breath began to come in short gasps as she leaned into him, fitting her lower bush of hair against his erect manhood.

“You can have me now if you want,” she whispered, tilting her chin upward, so his mouth could hit the target she was offering.

Alberto lunged toward her, not knowing which part of her he wanted to touch first. She was all woman . . . so fully blown. .. .

“Let's lie down,” she encouraged, taking him by the hand, leading him across the room.

He followed after her, breathing hard. He didn't hear the door open behind him, but soon felt hands other than Grace's grasp him by the wrist. “What the hell . . . ?” he shouted, then felt a point of a knife scraping against his backside.

“Just shut yore mouth, sonny boy,” the unseen man drawled.