by Jessica Ames
It is not a graceful climb but I manage to scramble onto the boat into his waiting arms. And he grips me tightly as he brings me to my feet on the deck of the boat.
“As graceful as a gazelle,” he murmurs with a quirk of his lips.
“I thought so too,” I breathe out.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me to the cabin of the boat.
I then get the guided tour. The cabin is the command centre, where they find the fish and steer the boat, and call for help if they need it—although he assures me in years on the boat there’s been very few occasions where they have needed to call for help for anything. This does reassure me, marginally. Although I’m under no allusions about how dangerous his job is; I looked up some statistics and fishing is one of the most dangerous jobs out there. I have to say that doesn’t fill me with happy feelings. I’m hoping by going out on the boat today I can get an idea of what it’s like out there and see for myself what he does. Not that we’ll be fishing today. At least… I don’t think so.
There’s a little room under the deck with a small kitchen area and some bunks, in case they stay out on the water, rather than returning to port at the end of the day.
It’s all very basic but well maintained, which also eases my anxiety.
Once I’ve seen the boat, he leads me back into the cabin and moves over to the seat in front of the control panel. He slips onto it and pats his thighs. “Come sit with me.”
“On your knee?”
“Unless you want to stand.”
Normally, I would not be so forthcoming, but there’s no one else here and so I move to him and slide onto his lap.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”
He shakes his head, his arms wrapping around me, pulling my back against his chest. I hold my breath as his nose nuzzles against my neck. “Okay, we’re going to sail out of the harbour, and you’re going to help me.”
I blink and then twist to look at him.
“I can’t steer the boat.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, you can.” He takes my hand and places it on a lever at the side of him. “First, we’re going to start her up.” He takes my hand in his and directs me to the key on the panel. Still nuzzling against my neck, he guides my fingers to it.
I’m getting breathless and a little warm as his nuzzling turns to kisses. This might be the single most sensual moment of my life and I rub my thighs together in an attempt to settle the ache growing between my legs.
“You need to twist the key now,” he says into my ear.
Yeah, I’m panting like a dog in heat and I’m not even ashamed of the fact. His other hand moves to my breast and starts lazily kneading it through the material of my top. Annoyingly, the padding of my bra stops most of the sensation of his hands from coming through and I wish he would have his fingers on my skin.
Somehow, I manage to twist the key and much like a car the engine splutters and catches. Then it roars to life. It’s loud. A lot louder than I was expecting.
Cal’s arm tightens around me, keeping me on his lap even as his clever hand keeps rubbing my breast. I can barely see straight to do anything and I feel a little light headed as I breathe heavily through his heavy petting.
It hasn’t been that long since I was last with a man but I feel as if I haven’t been touched in years. Between my legs I feel I’m getting wet, and my underwear is damp. I want his hand there but I don’t want him to stop what he’s doing to my breast.
“We’re going to turn the wheel a quarter turn to the left but one step at a time until we clear the dock.” His warm breath tickles the shell of my ear before he takes the thin cartilage between his teeth and holy shit… “Did you hear me?” he asks when I don’t respond. I can’t respond because his hand has gone down my top and into my bra. His fingers scrape against my nipple and I let out a moan that sounds loud even over the noisy engine.
He’s going to tip me over the edge before we even leave the harbour.
33
Callum
Jesus, she’s like putty in my hands. I didn’t expect her to react like this when I started touching her. In truth, I thought there would be a little touching and groping and that would be it, but the moment I put my hands on her she melted for me. So, I didn’t stop touching and what started as a heavy petting session is definitely leading into more.
I guide her hand to the throttle on the side of the dash as I kiss her shoulder.
“We’re just going to give it some gas and carefully steer out of the harbour. Keep an eye out for other ships and we want to stay in the middle, where the water is deeper.”
It’s a tight area to get out of the harbour but she’ll be fine with me guiding her.
“W-what?” She gasps as I rub her nipple through my finger and thumb.
She feels amazing, all soft and warm, but to get out of the harbour I need to steer and control the speed of the boat, meaning I need both hands.
With regret, I withdraw my hand from inside her top and kiss the side of her head when she whimpers at the loss of my touch. That makes me chuckle. “Sorry, babe. We need to get out of the harbour without breaking anything on the way out or damaging the boat. We need both hands for that.”
“I… I can’t… you need to…”
I kiss her again. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Although we’re finishing what you started the moment we’re out of this harbour.”
My dick twitches in my jeans and she must be able to feel it against her arse. I hope she can anyway; I want her to know the effect she’s having on me.
But for the moment I need to concentrate. I bring her hand to the throttle again as she shifts on my lap and I let out my own moan.
“Sweetheart, you move like that on my dick and we’re not getting out of the harbour at all.”
“Sorry,” she murmurs and stills.
“Okay, let’s get out onto the water.” I push the throttle forward a touch, using her hand to guide it. “Grab the steering wheel and give it a quarter turn.”
I let go of her hand so she can use both on the wheel. When she turns it, I watch the front end of the boat to make sure we’re going the right direction and will clear the dock itself. With one hand, I help her adjust the position of the rudder while I move her other hand back on to the throttle to adjust the speed of the boat. I can feel her excitement as the Scarlet Rose pulls away from the harbour and moves around the other boats moored here.
“Holy fuck, I’m driving the boat,” she gasps.
Her enthusiasm makes me chuckle. “We sail boats, sweetheart; we don’t drive them.”
“Whatever. I’m still doing it.”
“Yeah, you are. We’re going to aim for that gap at the end of the breakwater there.”
She nods. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Hmm, she’s cocky now. A minute ago it was all, ‘Oh, I can’t drive the boat’. Now, she’s confident.”
The little noise of irritation she makes is fucking adorable and I want to kiss her again, but I wasn’t joking about needing to focus. Once we’re somewhere safe on the open water, however…
Well, then all bets are off.
“I can do it,” she tells me.
I see the determination on her face—at least what I can of it in profile. I can sense it further in the way she sits slightly straighter and the way she focuses. I don’t know why but I like that she’s taking this shit seriously. It’s a good thing she is because out here things are serious. One wrong move can have dire consequences. That’s why today we’re sticking close to the coast. The water will be calmer and if anything happens we’re near enough to land to get help. I’m not taking any risks with her.
We clear the harbour and I do all the checks I need to do in order to move the boat out into the open water. This is a busy harbour and there are boats using the shipping lanes all day. The Scarlet Rose isn’t a small boat but it’s small enough it’ll get slapped by a bigger vessel if we get in its way. Best to avoid that
and to avoid sinking mine, Alex and the crews’ livelihood. Besides, Alex was fine about me taking the boat out today—in fact, he was a little too excited about the prospect of me taking a date out—but he will lose his mind if I damage the boat, so I need to focus.
We get out into the open water, heading into the Bristol Channel and I steer the boat towards a spot that we can drop anchor safely.
“This is amazing,” Sadie murmurs, her eyes everywhere as she peers through the windows out over the bow of the boat.
“Yeah, it’s amazing when it’s calm like this. It’s not as great when the waves are ten feet high and you’re rolling around like a Weeble.”
She twists in my lap to look at me. “Do the waves get that high?”
The concern in her voice warms me to my very core.
“We’re good at what we do, Sadie. We’re safe when we’re out there.”
She doesn’t look convinced, and she shouldn’t. We do play it safe but there’s no doubting how dangerous this gig is. Every time we go out there there’s always a chance one of us might not come back, and that is a scary thought.
As soon as we’re positioned right, I gently nudge Sadie, indicating I need her to stand, which she does.
I get the boat in place and safe so we can focus on having a nice afternoon on the water. We’re far enough out from the coast that we can’t be seen clearly but close enough in case anything happens.
I move towards Sadie who is leaning against the railing as the boat rocks a little from side to side, staring out towards the horizon. I come up behind her, my hands going to her hips.
“The view is spectacular out here,” she tells me as I skim up her hips to her breasts.
“I’ve got a much better view right here.”
She melts a little against me at my words and I feel a little triumphant at that. It may have been a long time since I was last in a relationship, but clearly I’ve still got skills.
“Mr Smooth is at it again,” she murmurs as she turns so we’re chest to chest.
I press her back against the railing and I dip my head to kiss her. Her mouth meets mine, and her fingers go into my hair at the nape of my neck. I have to admit that feels fucking fantastic. She moves her fingers back and forth over my abdomen as her hands dip under my tee.
I’m a man who finishes what I start and I want to finish this with Sadie. Clearly, she feels the same because she mutters, “I believe we were in the middle of something before we left the harbour.”
I grin at her. “Oh? And what might that be?”
She doesn’t fire back with something flirty, as I expect. Instead, she reaches between us and runs a hand over my crotch. My cock takes immediate notice and why wouldn’t it? I have a gorgeous woman touching me. Within seconds, my dick is straining against my jeans to the point of pain.
“You keep doing that, I’m going to need to take my jeans off.”
She glances at me under heavy eyelashes as she says in a husky as fuck voice, “Then take them off.”
Fuck me.
34
Sadie
I have no clue what has gotten into me. I’ve suddenly become this sexed up maniac who can’t keep her hands off the man in front of her. And I can’t. I want him; I need him. I’m not thinking about the potential he has to hurt me or the fact we live miles from each other. I’m not even thinking about the future. All I’m thinking about is this beautiful man in front of me and how much I want to touch him, to have him touch me.
And I’m willing to give myself over to him completely. So I’m surprised when he gently takes my hands away from his crotch.
“As much as I want that—and believe me, sweetheart, I really want it—I don’t want to rush this. You mean something to me, and that means something to me. I don’t want our first time to be on the back of my dirty boat.”
The initial sting of rejection is quickly displaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling. I’m starting to get the impression that Callum is a little old school when it comes to manners and being gentlemanly. That said, what he did to me before we left the harbour was not that gentlemanly at all. Not that I minded. I would gladly continue what we started, but I also get what he’s saying and now that he has said it, I’m also not sure I’m that keen on our first time being on the deck of his dirty boat either, so for now I guess we put a pin in it.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I kiss him and his arms wrap around my waist.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t grope each other,” he says around a grin that has me laughing.
“You’re incorrigible.”
His grin widens. “So I’ve been told.”
He takes my hand and leads me towards the back of the boat. Releasing his hold on me, he grabs two deck chairs that are propped up against the back of the boat. He folds one out and gestures grandly to it.
“Your seat, milady.”
“Why, thank you.” I sit while he folds the other one out and heads back into the cabin.
He returns a moment later with a cool box which he sticks on the deck at the side of his chair. He pulls out a small bottle of premixed gin and tonic and hands it to me. It’s chilled. It makes me grin that he remembers what I like to drink.
I uncap the bottle and take a sip. It’s cold and refreshing—nectar of the gods.
Callum takes out a bottle of beer and uncaps it.
“If you’re hungry, there’s all sorts of stuff in here. Just help yourself.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Have a look.”
I slip the lid back off and open it. It’s stuffed full of bottles of beer, gin and food. So much food. There’s salad and chicken and fruit and fresh pasta. He really did pack all sorts.
“You made us a picnic.”
I don’t know why but this knowledge brings a lump to my throat and I have to swallow hard to get past it. It’s such a sweet gesture. In fact, this whole day has been nothing but sweet and it’s only just getting started.
Callum looks a little uncertain. “Is it too much?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s perfect.”
I sit back down and take his hand. “Thank you.”
His uncertainty disappears and he grins. “You don’t have to thank me.”
But I do. I find it sweet that he would do something so nice.
For the next few hours we sit on the boat, eating, drinking and talking. Being with Callum feels easy. It’s also entertaining. He’s hilarious at times, although there still is that sadness in his eyes, but it’s not as pronounced as it was in the photographs on his dating profile.
We’ve both had loss—him from losing his wife, me from losing the man I thought I was going to spend my life with. Richard didn’t die but he was gone from my life instantly. Cal and I are two damaged souls trying to rebuild our lives the best we can and I want that desperately. I want us to work out, but we’ll have to see what happens. So far, things seem good and I hope it stays that way, but who knows what tomorrow will bring. I learnt not to get ahead of myself and not to count the chickens before the eggs hatch.
As we get into late afternoon, he lets out a sigh. “We need to head back before dusk hits.”
While I don’t want this day to end, I will be glad to get back onto solid land. I do have pretty good sea legs, it seems, but I don’t know how he deals with the constant movement of the boat. When we left Ilfracombe it was sunny and still but the clouds have started to roll in and the temperature has definitely dropped. The water has also started to get a little choppy but Callum doesn’t seem concerned so I don’t worry either.
At least, I don’t until he comes out from the cabin carrying something. I don’t realise what it is until he hands it to me. It’s a life jacket. “Put that on.”
“What about you? Where’s yours?”
He glances at me from over his shoulder. “I’ve been on boats all my life. I can keep my feet on the deck even when we’re hitting forty knot winds; you can’t. The vest goes on.”
I don
’t argue, not after those words. Instead, I slip the life jacket on and let him help me fasten it. I don’t miss the fact he purposely brushes his hands over my sides as he does up the buckles and I don’t call him on the fact he copped a feel either. I just meet his gaze and the heat smoulders between us.
Then he breaks it by moving. “Come on, let’s get into the cabin.”
He folds the chairs down and I take them from him. I carry them while he grabs the cooler. He shows me where to put them in the cabin and then he heads to the controls.
Heading back to the harbour is a little rougher than when we headed out and I have to hang on to Callum as I take position again in his lap. This time there is no groping or playing and I get the impression things are a little more serious, even though he remains calm and still jokes with me the whole way back. There’s just something in his demeanour that suggests he has his work face on, and that’s fine by me. I want us to get back safely.
The boat itself rolls from side to side as the waves hit against it and I have to admit my stomach starts to roil just as much.
I’m almost relieved when we finally sail—not drive—into the harbour and Callum moors the boat. That relief is short lived when I realise he has to cross over to the island. Alone. Through the choppy water.
When I mention this to him, he gives me a smile.
“I’ll be fine.” He kisses me and rubs my cheek. “I love that you’re worried but I know how to keep myself safe and I don’t take unnecessary risks.”
That does make me feel better.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
He drives me back to the train station in Exeter. Saying goodbye to him again is hard. In fact, with every visit it’s getting harder.
And I don’t know if I can keep saying goodbye.
35
Callum