by Whitney G.
“What was your first impression of me?” I asked, trying to break the silence.
He turned to face me and smiled. “Jesus she’s sexy.”
“You’re lying!”
“It’s true. What was yours?”
“He’s sexy, but he’s wearing a hoodie so he’s probably way too young for me.” I laughed and he rolled his eyes.
“Glad we’ve cleared that up.”
“Have we?”
“If you think we haven’t, I can think of a few ways to make you say we have...” He pulled me close and kissed me. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this: Do you know how to dance?”
“We danced together at my birthday party before so I guess—”
“I don’t remember us really dancing at your birthday party...”
I rolled my eyes. “No...I just know how to sway to the music. I never took the time to learn.”
“Let’s work on that.” He reached for my hands and pulled me up. “You said you liked the dance floor on the top deck earlier, right? I think that’s the perfect place for a Sunday lesson.”
“The dance floor is outside and it’s raining...”
“How observant.” He laughed and walked me upstairs, into a room full of audio equipment. He flicked a few switches and the screens that were on the wall became blue.
“Good morning, Mr. Statham.” A gray haired man walked into the room and tipped his hat. “How are you today?”
“I’m great, Sam. Have I introduced you to Claire before?”
“No sir.”
He placed his hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward. “Claire, this is my captain Sam. He directs all of my yachts. Sam, this is—” He paused. “This is my girlfriend, Claire.”
Did he just say “girlfriend”? Is he out of his mind?!
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss.” Sam reached out and shook my hand. “The co-captain is now at the wheel sir. I’ll be retiring to my cabin for the rest of the day.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
I waited for Sam to leave the room and narrowed my eyes at Jonathan. “We have titles now?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I just thought girlfriend sounded better than ‘woman I like very much and love to fuck.’ But if you prefer that...” He hit another switch and the outdoor dance floor lit up. “I think we should start with the waltz. That should be easy enough.”
He grabbed my hand and led me outside. The rain was still drizzling, and a light fog was creeping onto the deck.
I heard the sound of strings and piano keys floating out of the speakers, felt Jonathan spinning me around to face him.
“So,” he said as he looked into my eyes, “we should see if you have any rhythm first.”
He pulled me into his arms and moved me to the beat, but I couldn’t keep up. For every step he took forward, I stepped back—for every movement to the right, I awkwardly moved to the left.
“And you clearly don’t ...” He laughed.
I let go of him and crossed my arms. I’d never been good at dancing; my mom had given up on me becoming her ballet protégé once I turned five. She even joked about how Ashley and Caroline must have gotten their dancing skills from Ryan.
“It’s okay.” He pulled me back and held my hands out in front of me. “Just let me lead and we’ll take things slow. Everyone has to start somewhere...Step right...Then left...”
He started adding more instructions—double-step, twist out, step back—and before I knew it we were waltzing across the wet floor.
I tried not to look into his eyes, to act like I was too focused on following his commands, but he made it so easy that I couldn’t help but gaze at him.
“At least you’re a fast learner.” He smiled. “Step to your right.”
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment... I assume you have a laundry room somewhere on the ship?”
“Why would I need one of those?”
“To dry my clothes after this?” I laughed as he spun me out and drew me back to his chest.
“I haven’t completely furnished the ship yet, but I’ll keep that in mind for our future.”
Our future?
“So, you honestly think you and I—”
“Are you analyzing us? What did I tell you about that?”
I murmured “fine” and looked off to my side. The city was now a mere blip in the distance and we were sailing towards the open sea—towards heavier fog and harsher rain. As more fog crept aboard the ship, I noticed that the original song had ended and another song—a much slower one with harp strings, was beginning to play.
I took one too many left steps and tripped over my own foot, nearly falling to the floor before Jonathan swooped down and caught me.
“I guess you don’t have a sense of direction either.” He smirked and pulled me up. “You’re off to a good start though.” He pushed me against the railing and lowered his head to mine, keeping my body trapped within his arms.
I shut my eyes as he slid his tongue against my lips and softly forced them apart. I moaned and threaded my fingers through his wet hair, kissing him back like my life depended on it.
He broke away and pulled my sweater over my head. Pressing his lips against mine, he whispered, “Have you ever had sex in the rain?” He started ripping the buttons off my soaked shirt.
I shivered as the cold air hit my bare skin. “No...”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Me either...Until today that is.”
I gasped and untangled myself from his embrace, ignoring the heated glare he was now giving me. “Are you kidding me? Do you have any regard for privacy? At all?” I took several steps alongside the railing, making sure I was far out of his reach.
“Get back over here. Now.”
“What if another yacht rolls by and sees us? What if someone from your crew comes up here looking for you and sees us having sex?”
“He’ll record it and put it on YouTube.”
“I’m not joking! You don’t find that inappropriate?”
“Can I buy you a thesaurus?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know you’re used to pushing the envelope, but you have to admit that—”
“My crew never bothers me, and do you see any other ships coming our way?” He stepped towards me before I could get away, pressing me against the railing again. “As a matter of fact, have you seen any ships sailing today?”
“No...”
“No?” He reached behind my back and popped my bra snaps. “Why do you think that is?”
“It’s Sunday...People don’t sail until the late afternoon?”
“Sunday is actually the best day for people to sail.” He flung my bra across the deck. “And they start sailing early. There were over three hundred yachts docked at the port we left and not a single one of them is setting sail today. Why is that the case?”
I could see my breaths suspending in the air amidst the raindrops, could feel my nipples hardening in the cold. I covered my breasts with my hands and shrugged. “Too foggy?”
He popped the button off my pants and yanked them down. He ripped my panties off with one hand and tossed them out into the sea. “Try again.”
“Because...” I was withering under his ‘I’m too angry to play games with you’ stare. “Because...You paid all those people not to sail today?”
“I did. Because the woman I’m dating insists on keeping our relationship a secret for some strange ass reason. I think she’s scared to admit that she really is ashamed of me.”
I sighed. “For the umpteenth time, I’m not ashamed of you. I just don’t want other people—”
He bit down on my lips. Hard. “If you’ve fulfilled your ‘I-must-be-difficult-with-Jonathan’ quota for the day, I would like to end this date properly—and by properly I mean fucking you against this railing until you can’t walk.”
“I—”
“Or talk...”
I gasped. My knees had already gone weak from him s
aying those words.
“I like you a lot, Claire. I really do.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket and let his pants fall to the deck. “Stop trying to fight it... It’s okay for you to like me back.”
“I never said that I didn’t like—”
He crushed his lips onto mine and lifted me onto the small ledge that jutted out from the middle of the railing. He spread my legs apart and drove his dick inside of me with one thrust—filling me with every thick inch all at once.
He grabbed onto the slippery railing above my head and moved in and out of me, keeping his lips attached to mine, preventing me from crying out in pleasure.
The rain started to pick up speed, started to unleash heavier drops on us, but he didn’t seem to care. He kept punishing me with his slow thrusts, kissing me senseless, ignoring the hard scratches I was leaving against his back.
I moaned against his mouth, begging him to stop kissing me so I could breathe, but he didn’t. He made love to my lips, exploring every inch of them with his tongue.
I felt our hips jerking at the exact same time and felt a scream rising up my throat, but he muffled my mouth with another kiss that pushed me even further to the edge.
I can’t breathe...I can’t breathe...
He let my lips go for a split second, to say, “Let go” and my body convulsed and shook—every nerve ran wild and exploded.
“Jonathan...” I caught one breath and fell into his arms. I felt him pushing me back against the railing, felt him pulling out of me. “I think I need to—”
“Stop talking.”
“But I—”
“Do. Not. Say. Another. Word.” He narrowed his eyes at me. He reached down to the deck for his pants and pulled out another condom. “You don’t need to say anything for the rest of the day.”
Chapter 17
Jonathan
A few weeks later...
I watched Claire’s chest rise and fall as she lay on my couch. She’d fallen asleep minutes after we had sex against my office windows.
I brought my hand to her face and pushed a few stray hairs off her forehead, smiling at how beautiful she was, how peaceful she looked.
She wasn’t wearing any make-up today, and for the first time I realized that she had light freckles on each of her cheeks, that her long and full eye lashes naturally bowed upwards. And I’d kissed her lips thousands of times, but I’d never noticed the tiny tan mole above her top lip.
Why didn’t I notice her before this year? We had to have crossed paths at least once...
I wasn’t sure what was going on between us, but whatever it was I didn’t want it stop; it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.
The women I’d been with in the past were mostly a means to pass the time, a way to fill my days with something steady until I was bored or driven away by their erratic behavior. But Claire never bored me, never annoyed me—even when she was frustrating the shit out of me.
I trailed my fingertips against her mouth and her eyes fluttered open.
“Hi.”
“Hi...” She blinked and slowly sat up. “Do you get aroused by watching me sleep?”
“No, but if you didn’t snore so much maybe I would.”
She rolled her eyes and tapped her shoulder, her way of saying she was ready for me to put her clothes back on.
I picked her bra up from the floor and clasped it around her back. I stared at it for a few seconds, looking at the black lace that covered the cups, at the red silk that lined the edges. I looked down and realized that her panties were an exact match.
How cute...
“Is this a new bra?” I slid the straps over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen you wear this one before.”
“You think I bought brand new lingerie just for you?”
“Did you?”
“No.” She leaned over and reached for her shirt. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not that special...I found this in my closet yesterday while I was cleaning it out, and I—”
I reached around her and gently ripped the small white tag that was hanging from the side. I held it in front of her and smiled. “Next time you happen to find something in your closet, make sure you cut the tag off first.”
Her face turned bright red.
“I love it.” I kissed her right strap and helped her into her shirt. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight? Anywhere you want—and yes, we can arrange to sit in a private room.”
She didn’t say anything. She just sat there blushing.
“Claire?”
“I can’t...I have to be home by eight tonight. I’m helping the girls make cupcakes for a bake sale.”
“A bake sale? For what?”
“For the cheerleading squad.” She put on her pants. “All twenty of them are going to be there tonight and I need to make sure my house doesn’t burn down.”
“Hmmm. Do your daughters know you’re dating me?”
“Not yet...”
Of course not... “Okay, since we can’t do dinner, let’s make use of what little time we have.”
“How about watching a movie at your place? I think that would get me back in time.”
“No. I have a much better idea.” I stood up and grabbed her blazer off the coat rack. “How do you feel about pizza?”
“Pizza?”
“Yes. It’s a popular dish made from dough, tomato sauce, and cheese. It’s baked in an oven and sold in boxes all over the world.”
She smiled. “You don’t strike me as a take-out pizza type of guy.”
“Who said anything about take-out?”
Claire tossed another ball of dough into the air and smashed it with her hands, making a gust of flour float across the air and fall onto my floor. Then she giggled like a child.
I shook my head. “It doesn’t take much to entertain you does it?”
“I’m not the one who suggested we make pizza from scratch...My mom used to do this with me and my—” She stopped. “She would get all the best stuff from the store and we’d waste a whole Saturday baking five or six huge pizzas.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was...”
The oven’s timer went off and I slipped an oven mitt on my hand. I carefully pulled the pepperoni and spinach pizza off the rack and set it down on the island.
I felt Claire moving behind me and turned around. “What are you doing?”
“I was going to pour us both a glass of wine.” She held up the glasses and her eyes met mine. “You don’t want one?”
“Yes...” My heartbeat started to speed up.
“Is red okay with you?”
“It’s perfect...”
We both stood still and stared at each other, not moving, not saying anything. The second alarm for the breadsticks was blaring, but neither of us made an attempt to shut it off.
I closed the gap between us and wrapped an arm around her hips, looking down into her gorgeous green eyes, pretending not to notice how loudly her heart was thumping against her chest.
She reached up and placed her arms around my neck, pressing her body tightly against mine, standing on her toes to reach my lips.
I bent down to kiss her—watching her close her eyes, watching her take a short breath in anticipation, but then I stopped.
Fuck...
I cleared my throat. “We should eat.”
She opened her eyes and stepped back. “Yeah, you’re right...” She walked around me and grabbed a bottle of wine.
I waited until she sat down and we ate our food in our own special silence—though at this point, I wasn’t even sure if it could really be called “silence.” All we had to do was look at each other to have a conversation, words weren’t really necessary.
I could tell when she was thinking about work, when she was thinking about us, or when she was putting on her best poker face to pretend like she wasn’t thinking about me.
She put down her pizza crust and sighed. “Where do you buy your wine?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a wine room in every place you’ve showed me, even on your yachts. But none of the brands are domestic and I know my wine. You can’t buy most of your collection in America.”
I smiled. “Very astute. I stock up on most of it twice a year. I go to a collector’s vineyard in France. I’ll take you there on my jet this summer.”
“Okay...” She looked off to the side, like she always did when she doubted something, when she was analyzing us.
“What is it now, Claire? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing...”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I set my plate down and walked over. “I need to ask you another personal question, a very personal question.”
“Okay...” She sipped her wine. “Go ahead.”
“We’ve been having sex since what? Late January? It’s about to be May...”
“That’s not a question.”
“I can’t think of one week when we didn’t have sex at least once.”
“Also not a question.”
“Why haven’t you gotten your period?”
She spluttered her wine into the air. “What?”
“You heard me.” I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I’m not complaining. I just want to know why you’ve never mentioned anything about your time of the month.”
“Oh my god! You ask the worst personal—”
“And you always try to change the subject. I’m waiting...”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me about menstruation! Do you have any sense of shame or—”
“Claire...”
“Ugh...” She shook her head. “I was really depressed after my divorce. I can’t put how depressed into words, but... I couldn’t get out of bed, I had to force myself to eat, and I... I just couldn’t function...So um, after I’d lost about ten pounds from wasting away, I made myself go to the doctor and he prescribed some antidepressants. One of the side effects was irregular periods and—Do I really need to go into this?”
“You do. I need to know.”
She sighed. “I got my period every day for the first two months and they swore that was typical for first time dosage. Then I got it for six more months, and then it just stopped. I kept taking the medicine for a year after that, but when I decided to stop, it never came back...They ran test after test and said that everything was normal, that I was perfectly fine. They said that I may experience spotting from time to time, but I’ll probably never get a full period again. Happy?”
