Rapture's Rendezvous Page 5

  With tears burning at the corner of her eyes, Maria took one of Alberto's hands in hers and let herself be lost to all that was around her … dreaming sweeter dreams than those of the present. .. reliving her one time with Michael. . . wishing it could be again. She didn't see Alberto's lips begin to move, or feel his heartbeats hasten against her cheek. .. .

  Alberto was aware of Maria's closeness. He wanted to reach out to her. Comfort her. Explain how he had happened to ignore her that day. Explain how he had happened to be below deck . .. where Sam had assaulted him. . . .

  Alberto had loved the feel of the cards between his fingers and the power that each card represented when he would spread them out, face side up, on the ship's flooring before him. He had found that the Aces were the best to be dealt, and that he had been dealt many of those. It was all so vivid in his mind now … so easy to recall. . ..

  “Damn lucky, ain't ya, lad?” one man sneered, dealing cards once again, as Alberto scraped in his winnings.

  “Yeah. Guess I am,” Alberto boasted. He liked the coins even as much as the green bills. He knew that if he had several of those, there were many things that could be bought for himself. His eyes traveled behind him, smelling the sweetness of the beautiful lady who was leaning over him, running her fingers through his hair. When their eyes met, she winked enticingly toward him, licking her lips, making her painted lips shine like fresh raindrops just fallen onto the petals of a rose. Velvet. Pure velvet. That was what her lips were, he thought hungrily to himself. When he looked lower, he could feel his face reddening. What lay before him were two mountains of breasts, heaving, trying to fall free from the dress that revealed the deepest of cleavage and the smallest of waists.

  Turning, Alberto placed his cards in his hands, smiling widely, spreading the cards, seeing three Aces and two Kings. Yes. A full house was what the men had called this. Surely he was going to win again. Damn. How had he ever existed without playing this exciting game? He felt more alive now than ever before.

  “What's yore bet, lad?” a man with a heavy beard and cigar hanging from between his lips asked.

  “The highest I can go,” he said daringly.

  “What's that you say?” another shouted, frowning.

  “What's the highest I can bet?”

  Laughter bounced from man to man. “All of it, sonny boy,” one encouraged. “All the damn money in yore pocket if.ya be brave enough to do it.”

  Alberto ran his fingers across his brow, contemplating his fate. His eyes jerked from one man to another, seeing apprehension, possibly even fear etched across their faces. “All I have?” he said softly.

  The man next to Alberto spat chewing tobacco into the wind, and with an elbow, nudged Alberto in the side. “Shore, son,” he boomed. “Why not? What do ya have to lose?” Then he tore into a fit of laughter, taking his billed hat from his head, tapping it against his leg, watching Alberto's reaction.

  Setting his jaw firmly, Alberto searched inside his pockets. He felt that he was being made fun of. He felt that they didn't think he was smart enough to know what he was doing. Well, he would show them. He had won so much, what would it matter if he lost this time? And, anyway, he had given Maria the largest amount of their money to keep safe.

  His heart stopped short. His head swung around, seeing the absence of Maria beside their bunks. Oh, God, he thought to himself. Where was she? Then his eyes captured her hat. .. lying on deck. . ..

  He pushed himself up with one quick motion, ready to dash back to where he had left Maria, when soft hands covered his own.

  “Where're you goin', darlin'?” the honey-dipped voice said from behind him.

  Alberto felt something tighten in his groin as he turned and found this beautiful creature moving closer to him, placing her body so close he could feel the largeness of her breasts crushing against him. His eyes glanced downward, seeing the deep cleavage once again and what lay on each side. His manhood began to swell inside his breeches, suddenly feeling a need he had for so long been forced to keep quelled. And now? Was this lady .. . willing … to let. . . him … ? His eyes widened when he felt a hand brush lower, against the tightness of his breeches.

  Loud laughter brought him to his senses. The men were all watching, enjoying his embarrassment of the moment. He looked down into the eyes of this woman … the eyes of a cat. .. so green and flashing. .. then pulled her lips to his and damn well showed the men that.he indeed knew what to do under such circumstances. He even grew bold enough to let a hand wander upward and touch the softness of the flesh of a breast. His heartbeats consumed him as his fingers continued to explore, circling this part of a woman he up to now had only been able to admire from afar. He had so often wanted to even touch Maria … but had been afraid to ask….

  “Hey!” a man boomed from the ship's deck. “Are ye a goin’ to play cards or pussy?”

  Hating to set this woman free, Alberto clung for a moment longer, then whispered into her ear, “You're so beautiful.”

  “Win this hand and ya can touch more than my tits, darlin',” she whispered back-, blowing into his ear, making goose bumps ride his spine.

  “Then win it I shall,” he said, giving her breast just one more squeeze. “And your name? What might it be?”

  “Just call me Grace,” she said, giggling.

  Alberto had to join in the quiet laughter. Grace didn't seem the appropriate name for a woman who gave of her body so freely. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now, except that knowing how to win at cards would be to also win at something even more important. He would soon know the secrets that lay hidden beneath a woman's skirt.

  “Let me win this hand,” he said. “Then we can get on with the most pleasurable side of life.” He released his hold on her, smiling crookedly. Scooping the cards back up into his hands, he squatted and checked them once again. Yes. He had a winning hand. Yes. He would bet all he had in his pockets. With one thrust, he threw all his coins and green bills onto the pile of money that had already been bet by the other men.

  With a pounding heart, he watched as each man spread his cards out on the floor in front of them, revealing a various assortment of what could be winning hands . . . except that Alberto's had the most Aces, with two Kings to confirm his win.

  “Damn it all to hell,” one man grumbled, puffing angrily on his cigar. “A damn full house. You did it again, lad. Don1 know how, since you never did play before. But, you sure as hell took my money from me.”

  “I'm quitting for a while, gents,” Alberto said, grinning from ear to ear. “I've better things to do, if you know what I mean.” He began to pull the money toward him, but was stopped when a boot lowered, to rest on his hand. He looked up into beady, dark eyes, surrounded by thick, scraggly whiskers.

  “Not so fast, sonny boy,” the man said, increasing his weight on Alberto's hand, making Alberto wince.

  “I won fair and square,” Alberto said, feeling the bones in his fingers straining to be set free.

  The man glowered, spitting chewing tobacco next to Alberto's knee. “In this game o’ chance, you don' just play to keep the money,” he said darkly. “You give the men a chance to win it all back. Don’ you see? Tha's part o’ this game, sonny boy.”

  Grace moved lithely toward this man attired in garments that reeked of sweat and tobacco juices. “Now, Sam,” she purred, wrapping her fingers around his hand, squeezing it. “You know it doesn't really matter. Now does it?”

  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.

  Alberto tensed, quickly recognizing the voice. It was Sam. The man who had stepped on Alberto's hand just only moments ago when Alberto had been trying to fill his pockets with his winnings from the card game. A prickly sensation flooded his senses, throwing caution into his thoughts. “What are you doing here?” he snarled, but uttered a low moan when the blade of the knife left a thin trail of blood down his back.

  “Just do as you are tor, and we'll see to it tha’ you don’ get hurt none,” Sam growled.

  Alberto swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to show a cowardly side to his nature. But he didn't want to get hurt, either. He had not only himself to protect, but also Maria. “What do you want?” he said quietly, knowing the answer to that before he even spoke. Sam had come for the money. Alberto had been set up. He looked toward Grace and saw the look of mockery flashin
g in her green eyes, making them look even more like those of a cat. His eyes raked over her nakedness, so sure it wasn't he who would be sleeping with her now. He had lost… and more than money… it seemed.

  Sam shoved Alberto onto the bunk. “Get ‘im ready, Grace,” he growled. “You know wha’ I mean.”

  Alberto was now able to see all around him. His heart throbbed wildly when he saw Sam standing there with a knife in one hand, and the other resting on a holstered gun. Hopes of coming out of this alive quickly dwindled.

  “Come on, darlin'. Relax,” Grace purred, stretching her body out next to Alberto's.

  “What the … ?” Alberto gasped, suddenly realizing that Grace was continuing with her efforts of seducing him. Her fingers traced a path downward, stopping on his manhood, fondling it until it sprang up again, even though there was an audience. He closed his eyes, not wanting to be a part of this ugly scene, but he couldn't control the lusty urges building up inside him. When Grace's tongue replaced her fingers, he stiffened, breathing wildly, feeling the warmth seizing his insides, ready to erupt into a million spasms of delight. Then Sam stepped forward and took Grace by the hand. . . .

  “Enough, little woman,” he snarled.

  Alberto opened his eyes, startled. He watched as Grace went to stand across the room to watch while Sam approached Alberto with his breeches removed. “What do you think you're going to do with me?” Alberto shouted, trying to climb from the bunk, but stopped when a gun-toting Grace walked across the room, pointing it at Alberto.

  “Now, just you shut up, darlin',” she purred, smiling wickedly. “You're soon to find out just how we get our pleasures aboard this movin’ vessel. There's more to life than playin’ poker. . ..”

  “You . .. can't. . . .”Alberto whined, then felt Sam's fingers twist around his hair to yank him from the bunk.

  “We . . . can .. . and we will, sonny boy,” Sam growled, moving around to Alberto's behind.