Chapter Eleven
Boston Harbor, Boston, Massachusetts, on board the Golden Dolphin, November 12, 2013—Tuesday Morning, Day Three of the Cruise
Harper awoke early, wrapped tightly in Morgan’s arms. He was still deeply asleep. They were both naked. She couldn’t even roll over, and her leg was beginning to cramp. How romantic is that? She tried to slide out from under his arm so she could use the bathroom and quickly brush her teeth. She wasn’t used to morning protocol with a lover, but she really had to go. He just pulled her more tightly into his arms.
She watched him for a moment before she tried to struggle free again to no avail. The man had a grip of steel. His wavy black hair was mussed and fell over his forehead. He had a black shadow on his cheeks and chin that only made him look dangerous and more handsome than ever. Life just isn’t fair. I wake up looking like the Wicked Witch of the West, and he looks like a handsome pirate. He began to stir as she continued struggling to free herself.
“Where do you think you’re going, beautiful?” His voice was still gravelly with sleep.
“Just to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” He rolled over. “I’ll call and order coffee and breakfast. What do you want? The Irish? That’s what I’m in the mood for, since you wore me out last night, and I need my strength.” He grinned at her sleepily.
“The Irish is fine. Are we going to revisit that argument? You are so proud of yourself.”
“Damn right I am. I think we had a stellar night. Don’t you? If you complain that I didn’t take good care of you, I’ll paddle your butt.”
“Ha. You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t bet on it. I’m the Dom, and you’re going to be trading that black bracelet for a green one any day now.”
“That’s what you think.”
“It’s what I know.” Morgan rolled over on top of her, restrained both her wrists in one big hand over her head, and kissed her hard. She gasped and then just gave in and enjoyed the moment. He grinned down into her face. He was damn hard to resist when he was in a playful mood. But judging by the steel-hard cock pushing into her belly, she wasn’t sure he was actually playing.
She reached up and bit his ear. “I have to go to the bathroom. Now. I promise I’ll be right back, and we can play some more then.” He released her wrists, and she pushed at his wide shoulders with no results. “Okay?”
“Sure.” He rolled off her and swatted her butt as she got off the bed. He reached for the phone on the table beside the bed and ordered two Irish breakfasts from the galley. He winked at her, rolled over, and pulled the silk sheet back up over his chest.
Harper pulled on the white robe and went into the bathroom of the master suite. Oh, my God. This is just outrageous. She really hadn’t taken time to notice or enjoy all the details last night. Although she loved the country-French bathroom in her suite one deck down, this was the most opulent bathroom she had ever seen. The green marble was gorgeous, and the room was larger than her bedroom at home.
When she came back out, Morgan had poured them both cups of coffee, and a carafe of ice-cold orange juice waited on the table. Their steward had immediately brought up a pot of coffee and the juice and advised that breakfast would be ready in about half an hour. The personal service on this ship was simply outstanding. With only thirty-six passengers, she guessed they had the time to see to each passenger as though they were the only one. She could certainly get used to this. She smiled at him and accepted the cup of coffee and the sweet kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well? I certainly did. I don’t think I’m going to let you sleep anywhere else.” His dimples winked at her, and she had a hard time keeping a straight face.
“Don’t get pushy, Morgan. I still have to go downstairs occasionally. But, yes. I haven’t slept that well in a long time. It was wonderful.”
“I thought so.” She put her cup down, and he grabbed her as she shed her robe and climbed back into bed. “Let’s have a quickie while we wait for breakfast.” She could definitely get used to his undivided attention and the easy affection he lavished on her. She knew he liked the sex, but she thought he liked her, too. That was something different for her. Her colleagues at the law firm were either jealous or afraid of her, and the competition for cases and billable hours was intense. On a personal level, although she knew she was far from unattractive, no man had ever taken the trouble to try to work past her problems and find the real woman beneath. Morgan wasn’t sickeningly sweet about it, but she felt his steady support and regard. She knew he would push her, and that was what she needed. She knew she could rely on him, and trust did not come easily to her, if at all.
She sighed as he pulled her down on top of his chest, ran his big, capable hands down her back to cup her butt, and settled her firmly against his morning hard-on. He kissed her again as his tongue delved into her mouth to slowly explore her inner recesses. Then he picked her up, positioned her carefully, and slowly lowered her over his hot, smooth shaft. She felt the rush of wetness between her legs, and he began to raise and lower her pussy on his steel-hard rod in a primal rhythm. He continued to guide her until she picked up the rhythm on her own. He tangled his fingers in her hair and brought her mouth back to his for another deep kiss before he released it. Her pussy was hot and desperate as she arched her back and let herself fly. She had never done this before—never been the one on top. It was glorious. Her blood was on fire. She was thrilled as she looked down into his beautiful face and watched his climax roar through his body, and she knew she had been the one to make that happen. Her hips pumped with wild abandon as she followed him quickly over the edge, and the dam burst. She collapsed on his chest while her orgasm continued to drown her senses. As the lingering waves pulsed through her, she snuggled there while he cradled her in his arms. She tried to roll off him, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“Stay right where you are for a minute, baby. I love the feel of my cock still in your body and your weight on me.”
Harper would have been content to stay right there if the steward hadn’t knocked on the door with breakfast. They followed him out onto the deck while he set the table in the sunshine with the beautiful, gold-rimmed porcelain tableware with the Golden Dolphin logo. The sun was warm, but the breeze off the water was chilled. The hot coffee and food hit the spot.
“What’s on the agenda today? It’s a shame we didn’t order tea. We could have our own Boston Tea Party.” Harper laughed at the silly idea.
“Good one. We can do that when we get back from sightseeing. There’s a lot to do in Boston. I’m sure the ship has some excursions lined up. I would like to do the Freedom Trail walking tour. That way we would see most of the historic Colonial sites.”
“That sounds good. The guidebook says it’s two and a half miles and starts at Boston Commons, the oldest public park in the United States.”
After they finished breakfast, Harper made a break for her own suite, promising to shower and change quickly and join Morgan for the trip into downtown Boston and the Boston Commons to start the Freedom Trail.
* * * *
Morgan waited impatiently for Harper to make her reappearance. Women could never get ready quickly no matter what they promised. When they finally got down to the wharf and caught a ride in one of the minivans contracted by the ship to transport the passengers to the various sites, he was anxious to get started. They were deposited at the Boston Commons and located the red brick pathway that was the beginning of the trail that led to sixteen of revolutionary America’s most famous historic sites. The foliage, although no longer at its peak, was still breathtaking. The purple, red, orange, yellow, and now some brown, leaves still clung to the trees and littered the ground. They toured Paul Revere’s house, where he began his famous ride to warn that the British were coming, and the Old North Church that had held the famous lanterns warning “One if by land and two if by sea.” They visited Ben Franklin’s statue and the Boston Latin School, as well as the Old Stateho
use, the site of the Boston Massacre, and the Old South Meeting House.
They had walked their feet off and stopped for a late lunch at a charming Italian family restaurant.
“Talk about following the yellow brick road, or was that the red brick road? Anyway, that was a crash course in Colonial American History 101. I think I liked Paul Revere’s house best. It’s Boston’s oldest house. It was built almost a hundred years before he lived there. What about you?” Harper still had her nose buried in the guidebook that had been provided by the ship.
“I liked it all, but I’m still looking forward to crossing the Charlestown Bridge and visiting the USS Constitution, Old Ironsides, and the Bunker Hill Monument. Will you climb the two hundred ninety-four spiral steps with me, or will you wimp out? The view up there is supposed to be spectacular. Afterward we can catch the water shuttle back to the ship.”
“I’m no wimp, buddy. Just let me get some of this delicious lasagna and Chianti in me, and I’ll be ready to go again.”
By the time they had finished sightseeing and boarded the water shuttle to make their way back to the ship, they were both tired. Harper lay down on the sofa in Morgan’s living room and promptly fell asleep. He called the galley and ordered a tea tray so Harper could have her Boston Tea Party when she woke up. He had to smile. She so enjoyed everything and was one of the most enthusiastic people he knew. A lot of the women he had dated would have balked at hiking around Boston on foot all day, but she had jumped right in with both feet, so to speak.
* * * *
Morgan was sitting on the private deck off the master suite while he made the calls he had to make to his office in New York. One was to Joe Levine, the director of the double-blind clinical trial of Maxprotem, one of the new drugs for which Court Industries was on the verge of obtaining preliminary FDA approval. It was one of Morgan’s pet projects, and he was anxious to know how it was going. So far the results of the human testing had not been stellar. He had great hopes that this new drug was going to be a viable answer for early onset or childhood diabetes. It had been in development and testing for several years. The competition between the various drug companies, especially the smaller ones, to be the first to come up with a new treatment or drug was intense. The general public did not really understand the years of work and testing that went into bringing a new drug to the market, not to mention the risks of unknown side effects. The threat of industrial espionage was very real. He didn’t need the fact that their trial for Maxprotem was not going well to pop up in the newspapers or trade journals. Bad publicity could kill their FDA application.
“I can’t explain it, Morgan. We should be having much better results than we are getting. Actually, we’re not getting any results at all, which is very puzzling. The participants’ blood work is not showing any improvement. I just don’t get it. We had such excellent results with the lab animals.”
“I would suggest retesting all the participants and giving the protocols another review. Get back to me.”
* * * *
When Harper woke up, she found that Morgan had covered her with the soft throw from the chaise. She yawned and looked around for him. She spotted him out on the deck and got up to join him.
He looked up and smiled as she came through the glass door from the living room. “Well, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?”
“Oh, much better.” Harper settled on the chaise beside him. She grinned at him when she noticed the tea tray complete with cookies, scones, strawberry preserves, clotted cream, iced cakes, small sandwiches, and a teapot capped by a bright quilted tea cozy. “You remembered my Boston Tea Party! You are so sweet, Morgan.”
“Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my rep.” He reached over and poured her a cup of tea. “Please notice the canister of tea leaves for you to symbolically throw into the harbor. The cook included that on her own. I wish I could take credit for that one. I believe there’s cream and sugar, as well as lemon. What would you like in your tea?”
“Cream and sugar, thanks, but I’ll get it. What have you been up to while I was sleeping?”
“I made some phone calls. As much as I’d like to skip it, I have to keep in contact with the office. We have two very important drug trials going on right now, and FDA approval hangs in the balance.”
“How are they going?” Harper asked as she checked her cell phone for messages and texts.
“It’s too early to tell, but I am hoping for some preliminary data in a few days. The animal trials were stellar, but human trials might not garner the same results.” He looked worried.
“By the way, Natasha left me a text message that Alex Dragados, the chief mate, is going to be doing a training scene in the dungeon tonight after dinner with two of the trainee subs, and it’s open to anyone who wants to attend. Do you think you want to go? He’s supposed to be very good.”
“Sure. That should be interesting. I think the subs are two single female passengers who won this cruise in a charity raffle at Le Club Eastside. I don’t think I know them, though.”
* * * *
Harmon was getting braver. He began moving about the ship not only early in the morning and late at night, but for a limited amount during the day when most of the passengers and crew had gone ashore. He realized it was risky, but he wasn’t going to get what he needed hunkered down in the supply room eating energy bars and peeing in a cup.
Tonight it seemed he may have hit pay dirt. He scooted back into a dark recessed doorway in the third deck passageway and tried to disappear into the woodwork. He watched as quite a few of the passengers entered a suite that was normally kept locked. The doors were very ornate and heavily carved. He didn’t know what the suite was used for, but it wasn’t a passenger cabin.
The gathering wouldn’t have gotten Harmon’s attention except that shortly after the crowd had entered the suite, a tall, dark-haired, heavily muscled man followed by two women went into the suite together. They were dressed very strangely. What’s this? A costume party? The man was bare chested and wore studded leather bands around his bulging biceps, tight black leather pants, and high boots. The women’s dresses were very tight, short black latex or rubber, or some other shiny material. He quickly snapped a couple of pictures with his cell phone before the door closed again. The passageway was not well-lit, and the picture quality wasn’t great, but he could clearly see their faces and the clothes they were wearing. The man was the chief mate, but he didn’t know who the women were.
Shit! He had to get into that room. This is really interesting. He cautiously caught the doorknob of one of the doors which had not yet clicked shut and quietly slipped into the room while everyone’s attention was on the group of three costumed people. He slid into position behind a group who were looking excitedly at the newcomers and tried to make himself inconspicuous.
The group of three stopped in the center of the room under a spotlight shining down from the ceiling. Some of the passengers were seated on the sofas arranged around the room with their attention focused on the three while others stood against the walls. Harmon glanced surreptitiously around the room and was shocked to see that it looked like a medieval torture chamber. There was a lot of strange equipment—chains hanging from the ceiling, and a collection of whips, riding crops, paddles, and belts hanging on the wall across from the enormous mirror that went from floor to ceiling. The spotlight briefly dimmed and then came back on. The crowd immediately quieted. What the hell is this?
“Thank you for coming. My subs for the evening are Beth and Joan. They are guests from Le Club Eastside. This is a training session, and I will be stopping to instruct or correct them, so this performance won’t be as seamless as it might be with trained subs. Let’s begin. Subs, strip and assume the position.”
The two women stripped off the dresses that had nothing beneath them, hung them neatly in the cabinet in the corner, and dropped to their knees in front of the tall, dark man and said, “Thank you, Master.” The two women, who both seemed to be in their
early thirties, were very attractive. Each had a curvy figure with ample breasts and butts. The taller one had wavy auburn hair that matched her snatch, while the shorter one was blonde, but her snatch was dark. Apparently she wasn’t a natural blonde. Red hair and a snatch to match. Oh, boy! Harmon thought he might begin to drool. The Master made minute corrections to their positions, which consisted mostly of gently spreading their legs wider while quietly giving them instructions. Harmon was in shock. He hadn’t seen a naked pussy in quite a while, actually not since his girlfriend, Vera, had broken up with him. She had said he was a clod, and boring at that. But he didn’t want to think about that now. He was far too excited to worry about Vera’s opinion. He didn’t think he was looking so boring right now.
“Subs, get wrist and ankle cuffs, put them on, and stand in slave position. I’ll check them when you’re done.”
The women, or subs, hurried to obey his orders. What the fuck? Harmon was astounded. Had he stumbled into a fetish club or what? He couldn’t believe his luck. He took his cell phone out of his pants pocket and tried to blend into the crowd. He just had to get these pictures. They could make his career.
When the women were standing naked wearing only the leather wrist and ankle cuffs, the chief mate, whom they apparently called Master, walked around them and inspected the fastenings. He ran his hands casually over their bodies, as though petting or reassuring them, and then lightly swatted their butts. Harmon was so excited he almost forgot why he was there. He quickly got with the program and began snapping pictures. He hoped no one noticed the very quiet shhhhush and click his cell phone made as each picture was taken.
“I’m going to take this opportunity to demonstrate the controls and uses of the equipment in case some of you are unfamiliar with any of it. If you have any questions, please hold them until the scene is over.” He directed the subs to stand side by side beneath two sets of chains hanging from the ceiling and quickly fasten their wrist cuffs to the chains. He demonstrated the adjustments that brought the two subs onto their toes before he fastened their ankle cuffs to bolts in the floor. The women looked helpless to him. He had never seen anything this exciting. His woody was standing at attention.
Harper's Submission [Golden Dolphin 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5