by T L Swan
“Who knows? They don’t tell me much. I hear most things through Chelsea.”
“What did they do?”
“They threw his body overboard.”
“Holy shit. I can’t believe this.”
“It’s true.”
Ang’s eyes glance down at me and she smiles broadly. “You scrub up well.”
I look down at myself and smile. “Thanks for loaning it to me. I would love to say I will pay you back, but I have nothing to loan you.”
She grabs my hand in hers. “Your friendship is a gift and you have loaned me that.”
Oh, what a nice thing to say. I get choked up. She has no idea how much that means to me. I have never felt as alone as I have in the last two weeks. It has been so nice having someone to talk to today. She squeezes my hand as if knowing that she just hit a nerve. We take a seat at our normal table with three of the girls. I haven’t really paid much attention to the other girls before and I glance around at them. One has black hair and is kind of rough looking, while the other is a bottle blonde and looks like she would be in her early thirties. They are attractive, but it is blatantly obvious that they have had hard lives. The third girl is Chelsea; the boy’s clear favorite. She is attractive and has a banging body, but it is her confidence and outgoing personality that sets her apart from the others.
“What’s going on? Where are the boys?” Angela asks.
The two other girls shrug and Chelsea leans into the table. “Apparently someone fucked up and Jack had to reprimand them this afternoon, and then Rick and he ended up fighting.”
Angela’s face falls. “Who… J-Jack and Rick are fighting each other?” she stammers.
Chelsea shakes her head. “No. Rick ended up getting into a fight with Stucco and then they had to call Mac to sort it.”
I sit still, unsure what to say.
Chelsea points her chin toward the girl with the black hair to symbolize for her to be quiet. Oh… the dark haired girl must be close with the guy they are talking about. We wait until she gets distracted as someone comes in to talk to her.
“What happened?” Angela whispers.
“I don’t know, apparently Mac ended up going fucking crazy and had to be pulled off him before he killed him.”
My eyes widen. Fuck. Stucco is that sleazy guy who hit me. I heard Mac say he wanted a reason to kill him that night.
“How did it start?” Angela whispers.
“Apparently Stucco got caught going through Simmo’s cabin.”
“What was he doing?” Angela whispers.
“Searching for something.”
“Like what?” I whisper.
“I don’t know, but it was suspicious, and to top it off, when the chopper arrived in the middle of all this chaos they couldn’t find the key to the container they were here to empty.”
“Fucking hell,” Angela whispers.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Mac had to open the container with huge ass bolt cutters. He looked like an idiot in front of the clients. He was fuming mad.”
My eyes widen. “Where was the key supposed to be?”
“All of the keys are kept in the main office, but this afternoon when they went to get the key it was missing.”
“Shit,” Angela whispers.
“Mac is going fucking berserk because it means we have a thief on board as one of the crew.”
“Does he think its Stucco?” I ask.
Chelsea shrugs. “Who knows, but I would hate to be whoever it is when he finds out.”
I sit back and sip my drink. Hmm. Very interesting. There are keys in the office. Everybody goes in the office so everybody is a suspect. I sip my drink to hide my smirk. This could be easier than I ever imagined. But what if they lock the cupboard now?
Shit. This could really mess up my plans. “Where did he get the bolt cutters?” I whisper.
Chelsea’s eyes flicker to me for asking a stupid question. “Down on level three is the maintenance level, all the tools are kept down there.”
“Oh,” I answer. Level three. I need to check out this level three.
The girl with the dark hair waves and stands to meet someone behind us and we all turn. It’s Stucco. She kisses him on the lips and they walk over to the bar.
“So is she on with him?” I ask.
Chelsea shrugs. “They get it on, but she is with other guys, too. She sleeps most nights in his cabin now. It won’t be long before he stakes his claim and refuses to share her.”
I frown. God, this is a weird set up. My eyes flicker over to them as they get their drinks from the bar and take a seat on the armchair in front of it. He sits down and she sits on his lap allowing his hands to roam up and down her upper thigh.
A guy walks in. He’s tall and dark and pretty damn hot to be honest. Who is this? “Hey Chels.” He smiles.
She stands immediately and walks around to kiss him on the cheek, and they disappear over to the pool table.
I turn to Angela. “Tell me the high ranking of this ship. Why was Mac called to sort stuff out?”
“Okay, so there used to be a captain of the ship—”
“Who owns this ship?” I interrupt.
“Vikinos.”
I frown.
Angela shakes her head. “He’s a really bad dude. Mafia. He doesn’t come on here. In fact, I have never met him, only heard of him.” She looks around to see if anyone can hear us. “He is known for torturing his victims to death.”
My face drops and I suddenly feel sick.
“Apparently he makes billions in drugs every week. He is big… I mean huge.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Carry on. There used to be a captain.”
“Oh, yes. But there was constant bickering and he couldn’t control the crew, so about a year or so ago the captain got fired… or killed. We’re not quite sure.”
My eyes widen.
“He never came back and Mac came in his place.”
“What does Mac do here?”
“His role is called the enforcer, but he is also a marine engineer so he takes care of the operations.”
“Huh?”
“He enforces the rules and makes sure things run smoothly.”
“How did he get the role of enforcer? What did he do to get this job?”
Angela shrugs. “That’s what we would all like to know. He came from Vikinos’s camp itself.”
“Oh,” I whisper. “So he really is bad? Like bad bad.”
Her eyes widen. “Baby, everyone on this ship is fucking bad. How do you think they got this job? But I think Mac is hard-core… I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I do know all of the men are shit scared of him.”
Bloody hell, at this point he is the only person I’m not scared of. Hell, what a mess. I am now orgasming over a hit man or something. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
I have enough emotional baggage. Maybe I should knock this on the head before it even begins. Before what begins? What exactly am I about to do?
No. Stop it.
Live in the moment, remember?
Have fun while you can. This is just a bit of fun. It means nothing. Stop over analysing everything.
Over the next ten minutes, I watch as man after man comes in after work freshly showered and ready for their nightly dinner. They go to the bar and get a drink and then take a seat next to their friends. I watch the door in anticipation as Angela talks to another girl who has taken a seat next to us.
Where is he? What’s taking so long? My mind goes to Chelsea’s words that he had to be pulled off that Stucco dude because he wanted to kill him. Does that mean they were in a fist fight? Maybe he’s hurt. I begin to feel my anxiety rise and I glance back over to Stucco in the corner sitting with his back to the bar. Fuck, I hate that weasel, too. I need a drink.
“I’m going to the bar, do you guys want anything?” I ask the girls.
“Can you just get me a white wine?” Angela asks.
“Me too.” The girl
sitting next to her smiles. What is her name again? Damn, I have to remember this stuff. I must seem like such a bitch not remembering anyone’s name.
I head to the bar and there is a bit of a line up, so I take my place at the back of the line.
“Don’t worry about him,” I hear the girl with the dark hair whisper.
I can hear their conversation. I glance back and see Stucco and his girl sitting with their backs to me, unaware that I am here. I turn back towards the front and pretend not to listen.
“He is going to meet his maker very soon,” Stucco whispers angrily. “The mutiny is growing.”
I frown. Who are they talking about?
“Just bide your time,” she replies. “You will get your chance.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Stop it,” she whispers.
“Next time I get him alone, I’m going to kill him. He’s dead.”
“How will you kill Mac without a weapon. It isn’t physically possible. He is a weapon in himself.”
My eyes narrow. And he will kill you first, fucker.
“How?” she asks again.
“I need a way to get back into the ammunition vault. He has the only key.”
Bloody hell, he’s serious. And there is an ammunition vault? I run my hands through my hair as I pretend to be unaffected by what I am hearing going on behind me.
“Where does he keep the key?” she asks.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, and when I do it’s going to be so fun watching the cunt die.”
Adrenaline starts to pump through my blood stream. It’s one thing to hit me and try and rape me amongst a group of gutless men—he had payback coming for that anyway—but to plot to kill the only person I trust on this God forsaken horror ship is a whole other level.
My blood runs cold.
You can’t kill Mac if you are already dead, motherfucker.
Maybe I need to speed up my plan?
* * *
I get the drinks and head back to the bar and take a seat at our table. I sit in silence for ten minutes as I try to process what I just heard.
Should I tell him, or is that idiot just blowing off steam?
Angela’s words come back to me. The men are all shit scared of him. They call him the enforcer. I’m pretty sure he can handle himself, but I just don’t know. I need to think on this for a while. I know he has to be careful with the keys to that ammunition vault though, so maybe I will just tell him that? Everyone seems to be here now and Angela is at the kitchen counter with her boys. I watch the three of them together. They are all looking up at the menu board and she is holding one’s hand while the other is standing behind her with his hand on her ass. They look so natural together and nobody even seems to notice them. No wonder she likes it here where she can live without judgement. What is it like to have two gorgeous men in your bed who love you? I would never in a million years have guessed that her men were crushing on each other. They are both so alpha. I glance at the doorway to see Mac walk through it wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that hug in all the right places and I feel my heart skip a beat. His freshly washed hair is hanging in curls just above his collar. He towers above everyone around him and I can see every muscle through his t-shirt. He is one mighty fine specimen. His eyes find me through the room and a smile crosses his face as he gives me a wink before he walks straight over.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” He brushes the backs of his fingertips tenderly down my cheek. God, he smells so good. “Have you eaten?” he asks as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip.
“No. I was waiting for you.” I smile up at him.
“Okay.” He places his hand on my shoulder as he looks up at the menu board. “What do you want?”
I screw up my face. “The chicken, maybe?”
“Yeah, okay.” He disappears to the kitchen counter to order. I stay in my seat and my eyes are stuck to him like glue. He orders our meals and then holds his hand up in a drink gesture and I shake my head and point to my full glass on the table. He nods and goes to the bar to get himself a beer. He stands for a while and talks to a group of men. I watch him as something very apparent appears that I haven’t noticed before. He’s different to the other men here. He’s quiet, reserved, and broody. It’s really hard to read what he is thinking or what emotion he is holding inside. Is that a defense mechanism he uses like I do, or is it a natural behaviour?
“You can’t keep your eyes off him can you?” Angela whispers, pulling me from my thoughts.
Embarrassed, I smile at the floor.
She bumps me with her shoulder.
“I took your advice this afternoon,” I lean in and whisper.
She frowns.
“We made out for real today.”
She smiles broadly and hits me on the leg underneath the table. “Yes.”
I sip my drink and try to wipe the stupid smile from my face.
“How was it?”
I shrug. “Good.” I laugh and widen my eyes. “Like, really good.”
“So?” She leans in and whispers, “Did you… you know?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Maybe tonight?”
I shrug as I feel the butterflies rise in my stomach. “Who knows?”
She glances over at him as he talks to the other men and my eyes follow hers.
“Seriously, look at him,” She mutters with a shake of her head. “You know you have a huge advantage on any girl here.”
I frown. “How so?”
“I reckon you could bag him if you wanted to.”
“What? No?” I shake my head. “I’m not bagging anyone.”
“Think about it. He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. He is out here all the time and I am pretty sure he doesn’t have anyone at home. Who knows what could happen?”
“It’s just two weeks.” I roll my eyes.
He falls into the seat opposite me and I sit back guiltily, hoping that he can’t tell we were just talking about him. Our eyes meet across the table and I smile, my heart rate immediately picking up. Can he tell how nervous he makes me?
He tips his head back to drink his beer and his sexy eyes don’t leave mine. I can tell he’s thinking about our time together on the lounge today. He was hard and above me and I was wet and open. I have thought of nothing else since.
He felt so damn good.
“How was work?” I ask as everyone disappears around us.
“It was okay,” he replies, amusement crossing his face at my attempt to small talk with him.
I sip my drink and he rubs the side of his shoe against mine in a silent acknowledgement. “How was your afternoon?” he asks.
“I had other plans, but it turned out okay.” I breathe.
He smirks as he lifts his beer to his lips. “That makes two of us.”
Our meals arrive and we eat in relative silence. Everyone around us is talking and laughing loudly, but he is quiet and pensive. I wonder if he is thinking about his trouble at work this afternoon. I glance over at Stucco who is now talking to three other seedy looking men in the corner. Obvious bruising is appearing on his face and his remark about the mutiny growing has got me thinking. If a group of men went crazy out here, some really bad shit could go down. One of the girls has turned some music and the disco lights on, and a few people are starting to dance. Angela and the boys have gone to play pool and the table seems to have separated.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask nervously.
“I don’t dance.”
“Oh.” I pause for a moment. “How do… I mean, what do you do to relax?”
His dark eyes hold mine and after a moment her replies. “I ejaculate.”
I get a visual of this visceral beast ejaculating. Fucking hell. “Oh,” I whisper as an intelligent reply leaves my brain.
“We can do that if you want?” He raises a sexy brow.
“Do what?” I breathe as my eyes drop to watch his tongue as it slips out and runs over his larg
e bottom lip.
“Watch me ejaculate.”
The air leaves my lungs. “You want me to watch?” I whisper.
“Very much,” he breathes.
“Now?”
“Right now.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Holy fuck.
Before I know it I am being dragged back to his room by the hand, where he opens the door. “Take your shoes off and lie on the bed,” he instructs.
Huh? I frown in question as he disappears into the bathroom and reappears with a large, white towel, which he spreads out over the sheets.
Isn’t he going to touch me?
“Take your underwear off and lie down.”
“Umm.”
He cuts me off. “Now.” He turns and switches the lamp on next to the bed and turns the main light off. The mood instantly changes to sexual.
Oh. I slide my panties down my legs and take them off and lie down on the bed in my little black dress. He stands at the end of the bed and grabs the nape of his t-shirt slowly pulling it over his head, revealing his golden, tattooed torso. My hungry eyes drop to the rippled abdomen and the V of muscle that disappears into his jeans. He doesn’t have hair on his chest, but has a trail of sandy hair from his navel down to his pubic hair.
My mouth goes dry.
He kicks off his shoes and I watch as he slowly slides his jeans down his legs. He stands before me in tight black short briefs. I can see everything through the briefs, although I don’t need to. His hard cock is sitting well above the waistband of his pants.
Oh dear God. I start to feel arousal pump through my flesh as a burst of cream breaks the dam.
With his eyes fixed on mine, he grabs his cock and pumps it hard through his shorts.
I’ve died and gone to bad boy Heaven.
“What do you want to see?” he asks.
“I want to see how you make yourself come when you’re alone,” I whisper.
Without any expression, he slides his briefs down his legs revealing his huge, hard cock. It’s thick and long and I can see every vein in its engorged head. His pubic hair is short and well kept and I have to physically hold my legs together.
I’ve never seen a man like this—seen a man act like this.
He turns and takes a bottle of oil from his top drawer and then sits next to me on the bed on top of the towel in the semi-darkness.
