Maiden Voyage

by Dreama Faire

  The desk drawer gave up a corkscrew and, from the bottom of her cavernous shoulder bag, she pulled a small penknife. She sat cross-legged on the bunk with a water glass filled with wine and thoughts filled with Nicholas.

  Despite the nap, she still felt weary. The wine soared through her bloodstream as she gazed out the window at the sparkling panorama spreading in all directions. Every hollow and swell, wave and ripple of the ocean's surface reflected the silvery moonlight. Another experience too beautiful to miss. She gulped the last of the wine, then pulled a sweater over her shoulders.

  The wind felt cold against her sun-scorched skin as she stepped onto the gangway. A full moon of shattering white hung between small silver-edged clouds, casting an eerie glow over every curve and angle of the ship. She shivered and headed toward the spot where she'd watched her first ocean sunset the night before. The rumble of huge engines hummed through the steel deck, steady and even. Far below, the sea gurgled and boiled against the hull slicing through the water, the only other sound intruding on the peaceful night.

  As she stared at the immense patches of black sky speckled with stars, she again felt the heavy insignificance of her existence. There had to be more. How could one go from birth to death with no taste of life? More importantly, how could she prevent it from happening to her?

  A sudden warm breeze wrapped itself around her neck like a chiffon scarf, the scent of exotic lands filling her senses. As quickly as it had come, the gust disappeared, leaving in its wake her resolve to change the course of her destiny.

  A whisper drifted on the night air. "Is too beautiful to believe, yes?"

  She closed her eyes, every nerve in her body aware of Nicholas behind her. She nodded slowly, wanting to turn, but hesitant to face those inquisitive dark eyes.

  His soft voice sounded nearer. "'Timeless sea breezes, sea-wind of the night...' "

  A rush of emotion flooded her chest as she completed the line. "'...You come for no one.'"

  A smile colored and shaped his voice. "You know it?"

  She turned, relenting to the magnetic pull that controlled her. "Song of the Sea. My mother used to recite it to me when I was little."

  Nicholas's chiseled features sharpened in the cool moonlight.

  "What is your name?"

  Only one chance to be glamorous, enigmatic...

  "Amanda." Dammit!

  "Ahh, lovable." He narrowed his eyes and gazed at her for a moment. "Are you?"

  Disappointed by her failure of imagination, she faltered. "Am I what?"

  His lips parted and white teeth sparkled through the most amazing smile she'd ever seen.

  He chuckled. "Lovable, of course!"

  Warmth crawled up her neck and she looked away, having no idea how to respond to such a question. He stepped up to the railing beside her and leaned on his forearms, his eyes focused on some distant point. Another warm breeze swirled between them and she caught his male scent. A furtive sensation stirred between her legs, and a shiver of delight raced across her shoulders.

  Nicholas looked at her sharply. "You are cold. After such a long day, you should go back to cabin and sleep. The sea takes its toll on the unwary."

  "I'm fine...Really."

  He straightened and stepped back from the rail, giving her a brief nod.

  "Goodnight, then."

  His silhouette faded into the shadows of the superstructure, and Amanda felt the sting of loneliness thread its way through her chest, her throat, and into her dreams.

  7

  The next morning, Amanda stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sleep had been hard to come by. Her head had been too filled with images of the brief exchange with Nicholas. Lovable. Did he mean physically? Or literally? He'd given her the perfect opportunity to encourage him, and she'd blown it. Why? No one would ever know about it—she was hundreds of miles from home. She smiled. Invisibility has its advantages. From now on, she could be exactly what she'd always wanted to be. Exciting and sexy. A vamp.

  She sighed. Maybe.

  Slathering sunscreen over her pink skin, she idly wondered if she'd end up with a beautiful tan, proof to everyone back home that she'd had a wonderful time. Sun, sea, romantic foreign ports, a handsome man. She shook her head at the schoolgirl thoughts, then slipped into one of her baggy shirts, scooped up her book and sunglasses, and headed for her hideaway on deck.

  Ten minutes later, she stared in amazement at the huge coil of rope, now carefully draped with canvas. Nicholas? No, why would he...? Could he be attracted to me? ...No, he's just taking care of the paying passengers. She dropped into the makeshift hammock and squirmed into a comfortable position. Within minutes, she knew she'd never make it through the chapter, her concentration splintered by thoughts of Nicholas leaning on the rail the night before. His soft voice. Poetry, of all things. Maybe he's not really a sailor. What if he's an exiled prince from some exotic country? The absurd idea sent her into a spate of giggles.

  "Is funny book?"

  She jumped, sending the book flying through the air. It landed at Nicholas's feet and he stooped to retrieve it. Through his open shirt, she caught a glimpse of black hair curling across his chest, and heat rolled through her crotch.

  He peered at the title before handing it to her. "Opera is comical?"

  She took the book with an embarrassed glance. "Uh, no, I was thinking about something else."

  He lit a cigarette and watched the wind snatch the smoke away. Amanda tried to think of something interesting to say, but her mind went blank. If she wanted to have a shot at changing her destiny, she'd better learn to take some risks.

  "Mr. Nicholas, how long have you worked on ATLAS?"

  He glanced at her. "Call me Nick. Four years."

  She relaxed and met his gaze. "Why don't you ever join us for meals?"

  "I am not officer. I eat with crew."

  "Oh...So, what else do you do beside give tours?"

  "Cargo management. Am responsible for knowing what comes on board, how is stowed, where is off-loaded."

  He stubbed out the cigarette and put the butt in his pocket. "Have to go to work." He turned to leave, then looked back. "See you at sunset."

  As he disappeared down a stairwell, Amanda's heart hammered against her ribs. He isn't just being polite!

  * * *

  After lunch, Amanda retired to her cabin to cope with the unpleasant sensation roiling through the pit of her stomach. Seasickness? She gazed out the window at the calm sea and hazy sky, her focus centering on a black speck of a ship on the horizon. Since the encounter with Nick that morning, her thoughts had been fractured with both anticipation and apprehension. A flutter in her chest sent another wave of cold nausea through her gut, and she crawled onto the bunk.

  Would he really meet her at the rail that evening? Had she read interest into his manner, or was it all just wishful thinking? She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in an effort to quell her nausea. Nick's dark eyes and sexy mouth appeared, and a flicker of warmth moved up the insides of her thighs to lick at her crotch. She slid her hand beneath the waistband of her panties and found the tender, tiny nub. Her fingers fanned the embers.

  In her mind, glistening brown skin moved against her naked body, urging her to submit. Large hands caressed her breasts, a soft moustache brushed against her neck, lips nibbling, teeth nipping. The image grew stronger as she stroked her clit, her body tightened with release. She exhaled heavily. The cold lump in the pit of her stomach disappeared, and sleep claimed her.

  She woke with a start, her skin slick with perspiration, her hair damp. Every nerve tingled, and she felt limp and exhausted. My God, what a dream! She stared out the window at the sky, trying to push away the strong, fresh imagery, but at the same time, lured back into its spell. The romantic fairy tale visions she'd conjured while she masturbated had faded with sleep, merging into unfamiliar erotic mental pictures.

  In the dream, she was naked, tied to the mast with arms behind her, legs spread wide. Hel
pless. Vulnerable. At the mercy of someone else's will. Nick leaned against the gray steel superstructure, his dark eyes moving inch by inch over her exposed body, consuming her with his gaze.

  "Jesus."

  She scrambled off the bed, her body shaking with the emotional wash of the erotic thoughts. She slipped out of her clothes, and stepped into the shower. The hot water pounded her shoulders and back, and her thoughts returned to the dream. Disappointment caught her off guard. She'd awakened as Nick began unbuttoning his shirt. How did it end? How did she want it to end?

  She smiled wickedly. Capture on the high seas. This was her adventure—why not? She began to laugh, her voice echoing off the wet tiles.

  "You idiot! There's no mast on this ship!"

  8

  The dinner hour dragged by as Captain Olsen regaled his guests with a tale of engine trouble far out at sea. Amanda only pretended to listen, her mind actually concentrating on other things—Nick in particular. A surreptitious glance at the window gave her a view of the evening sky donning its pre-bedtime colors, and a flutter rippled through her chest.

  The captain finally finished his story, drained his sherry, and bid everyone goodnight. Amanda breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the door.

  Solley's accent punctuated his words. "Goodnight, Missy. Enjoy the sunset."

  Heat crawled across her cheeks as his insinuating tone followed her out the door.

  She'd finally mastered her sea legs, and now instinctively sparred with the buffeting gusts of wind on the gangway. The sky began its slow-motion display as she leaned on the railing, lost for a moment in the sheer beauty of the sea. The air had an edge to it, and she pulled her sweater more tightly around her shoulders.

  "Lovable."

  Nick's voice was close, very close. She jerked and started to turn, but strong hands grasped her shoulders.

  "Stay there. You'll miss sunset."

  Like I could concentrate on anything with you touching me. She swallowed hard, trying to control her suddenly short breath. Under his firm hold, her shoulders burned, the warmth from his hands spreading down her arms, across her chest, up her neck. Tingling, delightful, exciting. The erotic tied-to-the-mast scene from the dream resurfaced in her mind, and she gave up a tiny gasp.

  "Is beautiful, yes?"

  Yes! The heat burning through her torso arrowed between her legs, briefly filling her with trepidation. My God, what am I trying to do? The fire in her belly grew, and she exhaled slowly, a slow smile spreading over her lips. Any damned thing I please.

  Nick's hold softened on her shoulders, then his hands slid down her arms to the rail. His thick arms caged her body between them, his breath warmed her ear, and his voice sounded husky.

  "You are enjoying voyage?"

  She couldn't think straight. His heat seeped through her sweater, an insistent reminder that his body was mere inches away. Her pulse drummed in her ears, and her breath came in tiny puffs.

  "I am."

  He shifted his weight and leaned against her. She gasped as a hard bulge pressed against her butt and moved suggestively. Not forcefully or rough, but sensuously. An invitation. No, a promise. She closed her eyes and leaned into his seduction, stunned by the wetness gushing into her panties. With each inviting rhythmic thrust of his hips against her, a throb surged through her pussy, and her thoughts centered on the mental image of her nude body lashed to the mast of a ship. She took the dream further. Nick in naked glory, his cock pointing threateningly as he approached. A cock that would take her whether she was willing or not. Was she?

  "Yes," she whispered.

  Her eyes flew open. Oh, my God! I said that out loud! Nick's hands swiftly left the railing and slid up under her shirt. She tried to turn, but he held her firmly.

  "Do not move. Just relax and let it come. You want it, you know you do."

  Yes, she did. For once, she wasn't the one in control, and the concept was more exciting than she'd dreamed possible.

  Nick's tongue followed the whorls of her ear, sending indescribably erotic messages to her already pulsing clit. Beneath her shirt, his fingers deftly unhooked the front of her bra, then moved to her hard nipples. His calloused fingers grasped the rigid nubs, rolling them, twisting gently, pinching. She felt only the delicious sensation at the brink of pain. She moaned, wanting more, but terrified of her own passion. She wanted to touch him, feel his erection. She tried to reach behind her.

  Instantly, he growled, "Keep your hands on rail. If you won't cooperate, I have to tie you up."

  A sleeping giant awakened in the dark depths, building and rolling upward, filling her pussy with the promise of ecstasy. Nick squeezed her nipples harder, sending delicious arrows of agony through her breasts, missiles that found their target in her clit. Her hips began to move and she squeezed her thighs, beckoning the orgasm she knew would transcend anything her fingers or vibrator had ever produced.

  From somewhere, she heard a moan. Was it her own passion breaking free? Was it Nick? She rolled her head back onto his shoulder.

  "Touch me. Please," she whimpered.

  "Not yet," he murmured.

  He released her nipples, then tightened his arms around her, holding her firmly against his chest. He nibbled her neck, his soft lips caressing her skin with a feathery touch. Her legs began to wobble as the energy of passion ebbed, pulling her back from the very brink of heaven.

  "You are very sexy, Lovable."

  His words brought her back to reality, and embarrassment flooded her thoughts. What had she just done? And with a complete stranger. Miss Amanda, schoolteacher, spinster. All the tags described her perfectly. But this? Where did this fit in? She exhaled slowly, bewilderment dulling her logic.

  Nick relaxed his hold, and turned her to face him. The corners of his moustache twitched with a seductive smile.

  "The teacher can learn, yes?"

  Chagrined, she slipped out of his arms. "I have to go."

  She darted past him and fled down the gangway, her heart thudding, and a painful yearning pulsing between her legs. In the safety of the cabin, she faced herself in the mirror. The woman staring back was a stranger—a wanton, lustful visitor who'd appeared without invitation. The pink flush on her cheeks screamed "liar." The invitation had been issued the moment she'd resolved to embark on this voyage. The dangerous dream had been a summons, the call to adventure, and, for the first time in her life, Amanda accepted her longing.

  "Yes, the teacher has much to learn," she whispered to her new reflection.

  * * *

  "Hey, Nikko! You seen those hot young asses yet?"

  Nick snorted. "Children. What would I do with girls so young?" He poured himself a mug of coffee, then sauntered over to a knot of sailors at the table.

  A stout black man grinned wickedly. "Well, you could fuck 'em, fer starters."

  The men laughed loudly, each adding their own ideas for enjoying the charms of the two youngest passengers.

  Nick smirked and shook his head. "Nah. I like women with some meat on 'em, not bony teenagers." He winked at the darker-skinned man. "But you go ahead, Switch. White meat tastes good."

  His attention wandered from the train of vulgar conversation to concentrate instead on the memory of the schoolteacher. She was a lioness, waiting to be unleashed—he could feel it. Her willing abandon to his teasing had excited him—especially her reaction to his threat to tie her up. His cock stirred again. Yes, this could definitely be one of his more enjoyable voyages.

  9

  Amanda leaned against the superstructure, shadowed by a huge funnel billowing white clouds of vapor. From that position, she had a clear view of the railing on the bow. Anxiety tightened her chest, riveting her feet to the deck, making her unable to move toward the spot that beckoned her with a pull stronger than the tide. What a fool—I should have stayed last night. But, no, I had to run off like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

  Dejection closed her throat. Her reading routine on the foredeck that morning had been unin
terrupted. Nick hadn't appeared, though she'd lingered until almost lunchtime. Had she lost her only chance with him? The possibility frightened her. The uncontrollable urge to be with him terrified her, but desire had been sprung, and now refused to be locked back into its cage. If she saw him again, she'd give him a sign—anything to show her willingness.

  The sun finished its evening performance, leaving a dark purple sky dusted with early stars. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. He's not coming. A sharp gust of cold air rasped across her bare arms as she moved away from the shelter of the superstructure. With one last backward glance toward the railing, she headed down the gangway.

  Nick stepped out of a doorway. "Good evening. The night is beautiful, yes?"

  Relief and joy crashed through her, and she beamed.

  "Wonderfully beautiful. I'm sorry you missed the sunset."

  A secretive smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "I have seen many sunsets. I had things to do before my shift ended." He touched her shoulder, and electricity sizzled from his fingers to the pit of her stomach.

  A second chance. Take it. Let him know. She let the dream images fill her head, and gazed boldly at his chiseled features defined in moonlight. The acknowledgment in his expression sent another jolt of lightning through her, this time arrowing deep into her belly. The deep ache between her legs intensified and she clenched her thighs.

  His rough fingers caressed the line of her jaw. "Come, I show you heart of Lady Atlas." His tone held enticing promise.

  He took her hand and drew her into the dark doorway. She followed him along a narrow, dimly-lit companionway, her heart hammering so loudly she feared he would hear it, her soaked panties an insistent reminder of her avowed mission.