Rapture's Rendezvous

by Cassie Edwards

  * * *

  Alberto pulled his hat lower fn an attempt to hide his eyes, knowing that his eyes could be the reason that he could be recognized. And even though his clothes were the same as he had worn before, he knew they were like those of most other men aboard this ship, filthy and tattered, so he didn't believe that Sam would remember him from just that one confrontation with him.

  Letting his eyes wander about, Alberto's hate grew within him as he found Grace leaning over Sam, teasing him with her fingers. They were a pair, they were. Sam with his beady, dark eyes, and thick, scraggly whiskers that had threads of chewing tobacco stuck throughout, and Grace with her low-cut gowns, revealing a tempting pair of breasts for all men to drool over, but looking so wicked with a constant glint in her cat-green eyes. Her copper hair fell around her face, framing it, looking as though she had already wrestled many men this night.

  “And how about you, stranger?” a voice spoke from beside Alberto, making him jolt to attention.

  “Huh . .. ?” he said, straightening the cards in his hand.

  Then Sam grumbled. “Place your bet, damn it,” he said. “We ain't got all night, ya know, lf'n ya plays cards with us, ya stays alert. Now bet or move on with ya.”

  Pinpricks of hate raced along Alberto's nerves, eyeing Sam darkly. “You're going to get yours, you damn bastard,” he thought to himself. “But now I'll play along with you.” He gazed down at his cards, smiling amusedly. Damn. He was lucky. Another winning hand for sure. “My bet?” he drawled, trying to disguise his voice. “One American dollar. That's what my bet is.”

  He checked his cards once again to be sure. Yes. There was a ten, Jack, Queen, King, and Ace. All of different suits, but that didn't matter. What he had was called a Royal Flush. He did remember that name, for sure. It was the best he could get. He furrowed his brow, kneading it with his free hand. Should he have bet more? It could even speed up the game a bit. But, no. He would have a next time.

  The men on all sides of Alberto placed their own bets, then the time came to reveal the hands. Straightening his shoulders back proudly, Alberto placed his cards on the deck, slowly, one at a time, feeling his heart pounding, knowing that all eyes had seen that he had indeed won with the best cards among them all.

  “Damn it. A Royal Flush,” one muttered. “Ain't seen one of them in a long time. Damn lucky.”

  Sam glared at Alberto in silence as Alberto scraped in his winnings. He took another mouthful of chewing tobacco, licking his fingers before dealing another hand of cards. Then he began dealing, occasionally glancing Alberto's way.

  Alberto cringed, seeing that maybe he was getting too much attention too soon. He knew that Sam could possibly remember that one other time, and how lucky Alberto had been at playing this game. Could Sam see him and his true features through his thick crop of whiskers? But, surely not. It was dark, even foggy, with shreds of wet mist hanging in the air.

  As the new hand of cards fell on the deck before him, Alberto scraped them in one at a time and positioned them in his hand, not believing how his luck continued to be with him. Even so, should he bluff and pretend he had nothing this time? He didn't want to work too fast. He had to be cautious, or he would fail once again at having a woman's flesh against his own. So he frowned and drawled a slow, “Damnation. Ain't got nothin’ this time.” He smiled to himself when muffled chuckles rose from the throats around him. When he discarded, he threw away three Aces and drew another Ace and two Kings, making him frown, knowing that even now. he had a full house, after having kept an Ace and a King in his hand before having discarded. His face flushed crimson, looking around him, knowing what to expect when he placed these cards on the ship's deck before him, letting all see what was probably once again a winning hand.

  “Got ya all beat this time,” Sam laughed. “What's yore bet this time, stranger?” he added, looking Alberto's way.

  Alberto couldn't resist the temptation of getting the better of his enemy. “Five big ones,” he drawled, counting the money out, slapping it onto the ship's deck.

  “Damn it you say,” Sam growled, spitting a wad of chewing tobacco into the wind behind him. “Well.ah'll raise ya five,” he quickly added, laughing throatily.

  “I'll call you,” Alberto said, throwing out five more dollars, feeling guilty and reckless now, remembering how Maria had worked so hard beside him when cleaning chimneys, taking so long to even earn one Italian lira. But he would win it back. Double. Plus in doing so, he would be able to touch the secret parts of that wench Grace. His eyes moved to her, just as she began to creep around to snuggle down behind him. He swallowed hard, remembering so vividly how it had happened before. She was making her first move. Well, he would play along. She would soon find out how her plans would be changed this night. How he would be the one in authority.

  “Okay, stranger,” Sam grumbled. “Show us yore cards.”

  Alberto smiled amusedly as he placed his three Kings and two Aces on the ship's deck for all to see. His gaze traveled across to Sam and he could see the hatred forming in his beady eyes. “And yours? What are you showin’ this hand, stranger?” Alberto asked, placing a distinct emphasis on that word “stranger.”

  “Yore whippin’ my ass tonight,” Sam growled, slapping his three Queens of Spades and four and five of Hearts on the ship's deck.

  “So I am,” Alberto said, smiling widely. He looked at all other cards in front of the other men and saw that he had indeed beat them all. As he scraped his winnings in, he glanced quickly toward Sam and knew that the time was drawing near. He knew that if he waited too long, Sam would probably understand just what was happening.

  “And where've ya been on this here trip before tah-night, stranger?” Sam suddenly blurted, counting out more money to place on the ship's deck before him.

  The color drained from Alberto's face. “Uh . .. I . . . well. . . you see, I've been ailin',” he quickly said. “Yeah. Had that damn dysentery. Guess it's been the drinkm’ water on this death trap.called a ship. Didn't think anyone would like gettin’ round me.” He felt beads of perspiration on his brow, seeing Sam studying him even more closely.

  “Tha’ right?” Sam growled.

  “Yeah,” Alberto said, then he felt the softness of a hand reach around and cover his own.

  “And you're feelin’ better now?” Grace purred, blinking her green eyes at him as she leaned her face down into his.

  Alberto's color returned to his face. “Yeah. Much. Sure am,” he mumbled, feeling that same damn stirring in his loins that he remembered from before as her fingers worked a button loose on his shirt and inched her way beneath it, curling in the thickness of his chest hair.

  “I'm glad,” Grace said further, pulling her hand away, settling down next to him. “You see, I'd like to get to know you better.”

  Alberto swallowed hard. “You would?” he stammered. He had wanted to act confident, fully in control of himself, but this beautiful woman was causing him to react much differently than planned.

  Grace leaned over and whispered into Alberto's ear. “I've got a private cabin all to myself,” she said. “Want to see it?”

  Alberto glanced quickly around him, seeing all eyes on him. Then his gaze met Sam's and held. A further intense feeling of hatred lured him to his feet. He knew that no more hands of cards were necessary. He had come to the point of no return now. He placed his money in his pocket, then turned and locked his arm around Grace's waist. “Sure. It'd be my pleasure to see your cabin,” he drawled, glancing once again at Sam and seeing that look of triumph in Sam's eyes, knowing that Sam would be thinking that soon he would have himself some fun with this newest stranger. But Alberto would show both Sam .. . and Grace. .. .

  “And might ya be alone on this journey?” Grace purred, clinging, making sure a breast mashed against Alberto's left side. He felt a delirious sense of need rising inside him, making his face flush even more.

  “Sure am,” he lied, knowing this was only a part of her plan, as befor
e. He knew that if she thought he was a lone traveler, she and Sam would have more freedom to abuse … his … body. He swallowed hard once again, leaning down as Grace led him through the door that took him below deck, where her filthy cabin waited. He had to wonder how many innocent men had been taken there and used. A weakness at the pit of his stomach made him feel like wretching, remembering exactly what Sam had done to him earlier. But not this time. No. Not this time.

  “No wife?” Grace asked further.

  “No. None. Ain't needed a wife yet,” he drawled, laughing awkwardly, looking around at the dismal passageway, cringing when he again remembered the last time he had been there. He managed to pull his arm more tightly around Grace's waist, even making her squeal out with pain.

  She jerked away from him. “Hey. Watch it,” she stormed. “What do ya think I am? Don’ you know I'm a fragile female? Just ya remember that.”

  Alberto had to laugh, remembering the way she had held a gun on him. She most certainly hadn't looked fragile to him then. “Beg your pardon,” he said, trying to force his lips to quit trembling with the need to want to laugh at her further.

  She walked on ahead of him and pushed a door open with one quick stroke. She stepped aside, holding her head tilted a bit. “This here's my cabin, mister,” she snapped. “You can enter ifn you treat me like a lady.”

  Alberto moved on past her, quickly darting his eyes around him, seeing that nothing had changed. She still had a cabin full of filth. His gaze moved to the bunk, knowing that soon he would have her on it and be taking from her just what he demanded. She would even beg for mercy, if he had anything to do with it. “So this is where you pass your evenings when you're not watchin’ that card game, huh?” he asked, moving on around the room, touching everything gingerly. He tensed a bit when he heard the door shut behind him.

  “My castle,” she purred sarcastically. She went to Alberto and leaned up into his face, reaching down to touch the bulge in his pants. “Don’ you think it's as purty as anyone else's castle? Huh?”

  Alberto became breathless as her fingers began to work on him, then expertly unbuttoned his breeches with skilled fingers, reaching in, touching him more freely. “Yes. A castle,” he stammered, closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, knowing that this was where his self-control had to be used. He moved away from her.

  “Hey. What is this?” she shouted, standing with hands on hips. “You knew what we was comin’ down here for. So whut's yore game, mister?”

  Alberto eyed her smugly as he rebuttoned his breeches. “Did you say . . . game . . . ?” he growled.

  “I don’ play any games, mister,” she said, beginning to unbutton her dress that hung in green silken folds from around a dipped-in waist. Her breasts rose and fell, two mounds inviting Alberto to almost forget what he did have in mind. He so wanted to bury his nose between the depth of those two pieces of swollen flesh. He so wanted to place his lips on the nipples, suck hungrily from them. But first things first.

  He went to Grace and grabbed her by the wrists and tightened his hold. “You know that is a lie, fair lady,” he grumbled. “You know that's the only reason you are on this ship. Just to play games.”

  Grace's head snapped backward as she stared upward, studying Alberto more closely. “Wha’ do you mean?” she said softly, her green eyes flashing.

  “Don't you recognize me, Grace? Huh? Don't you remember playing that little game with me once before? Then leaving me for dead out in the passageway?” he growled, furrowing his brows into a deep vee.

  “You . ..” she gasped, now recognizing him. “It's the whiskers. They hide your true identity. If Sam….”

  “If Sam what?” Alberto said, shaking her.

  “He'll surely kill you this time,” Grace said, laughing shrilly.

  “You mean if I don't kill him first,” Alberto said, laughing darkly.

  “Then you mean … to … ?”

  “I'm not sure yet,” Alberto said, laughing once again. Then his one hand went to her hair. He grabbed his fingers full and jerked her head back, glad to hear her groan with pain. “And before Sam has time to get here, I have to make my move,” he said. “Where's your gun, Grade girl?”

  “My … gun … ?” she said, panting hard, trying to pull free, but only moaning more when her hair began to pull harder.

  “Damn it,” Alberto hissed. “I'm through with your little games. Where's that damned gun?”

  “Over there. On the table. Beneath … beneath that scarf.”

  “Just come along with me then,” he said, moving an inch at a time, forcing her to walk with him. “I'll be the one making use of that gun this time.”

  Grace began to kick and scream, but stopped when Alberto hit her across the face with the back of his free hand.

  “We'll have none of that stuff,” he said darkly. “We don't want to warn Sam, now do we? We know that Sam will be here shortly to have his sick fun. Right?”

  “He'll be here all right,” Grace said, wiping her red, swollen cheek. “He'll kill you. And I'll stand and laugh while he's doing it.”

  “Yeah. I know you would. But you won't get a chance,” Alberto said, releasing his hold on her when he had the gun secured in his right hand. He checked for bullets and found that it was fully loaded. He motioned with it toward Grace. “Get over there. By that door. And damn it, if you make one sound when Sam starts to open that door, I won't only kill him, but you also.”

  “You . . . wouldn't“

  “Just try me, slut,” Alberto said. “All I have to do is remember what Sam did to me while I was in this cabin the last time, to spur me to murdering both you and him.”

  Grace stumbled sideways as Alberto gave her a shove. “Now just stand there and be quiet,” he added once again, waiting. He stood, tense, listening, and when he saw the door begin to open, he reached upward with the gun, and as soon as Sam's head came into full view, Alberto came down with a full force, hitting Sam over the back of the head with the butt of the gun.

  Grace gasped in disbelief beside Alberto, as Alberto kicked Sam away from the door so he could shut it. Then he leaned down and checked Sam's pulse, relieved that the bastard was still alive. He didn't want a murder rap hanging over his head before he even had the chance to get to America. He had many plans. No fool like this Sam character was going to take those plans away from him. He turned and glared toward Grace. “Now. Tear some of your garments away and use them to gag and tie Sam,” he ordered.

  “I won't,” she said, setting her jaw stubbornly.

  Alberto hated having to strike a woman once again, but felt he had no other choice. He went to her and struck her across the lips, flinching even himself when he saw a thin stream of blood begin to run from a corner. “Do as you're told,” he said, motioning with the gun once again.

  He'stood in silence as she hurriedly tied both Sam's legs and arms and then gagged him. Alberto's pulse-beat was racing, knowing what he was going to demand of her next. There was no way he was going to leave this cabin without first getting what he had that first time come down here for. He began to tremble when she stood, challenging him with her eyes. “Now what?” she hissed, hands on hips.

  “Undress,” Alberto ordered, eyes wavering.

  “Undress . .. ?” she said in disbelief.

  “You heard me“

  She laughed tauntingly. “Sure, mister,” she said, slipping her dress down from her shoulders, revealing that she wore no undergarments beneath it. As she stepped out of it, her shapely body was revealed to him in its entirety. He raked his eyes over her, taking inventory of all her body's dips and crevices. He licked his lips hungrily. “Now. As I hold the gun, you undress me,” he ordered, placing his feet apart and his arms part way up into the air.

  “Jesus,” she muttered, sauntering toward him.

  When her fingers began to touch his bare flesh, he could feel goose pimples rising, rippling. An anxious greed for this woman's body made him reach downward with his free hand and caress a brea
st, causing soft moans to begin to surface from deep within him. He had never felt anything so soft. He squeezed harder, making her eyes move upward and tease him seductively with them.

  “You want my body?” she purred, standing, stretching, touching herself now knowingly. . “I'm taking your body,”-he said flatly. “Move to that bunk.”

  She inched her way toward it, watching his gun. Then she stretched out across the bunk, smiling wickedly toward him. He reached down and picked up his belt and moved toward her. He saw a fear enter her eyes, making shadows crease her face. “What are you going to do with .. . that… belt. . . ?” she gasped, working her way to the other side of the bunk.

  “Lie on your stomach,” he ordered, standing over her.

  “Why . .. ?”

  “I'm going to tie your hands,” he said. “Do you think for one minute I could trust you while I was getting my pleasures from your body?”

  “Don't tie me up,” she begged, her eyes pleading. “I promise I'll be good. I cain't stand to be in bondage. I've been treated that way before. Some guys get their kicks by tyin’ me up. But I cain't stand it.”

  “I'd be a dumbass if I listened to you.”

  She jumped up from the bunk and went to him and placed her lips to his. “I promise. I'll show you a good time. Anybody who has the guts to do what you've done to Sam deserves a good time. Please believe me. I'll be good to you.”

  Alberto's pulse raced and he could feel the heat building in his loins. “All right,” he murmured. “But you know that I can get the gun faster than anything you can do. Just remember that.”

  “I will,” she said, then wrapped a leg around him, drawing him to her, making his head begin to reel. He slung the gun down on the one end of the bunk and let her lead him downward, until he was stretched out on the bunk and she was kneeling over him, teaching him the tricks she knew with her mouth and tongue. He wanted to close his eyes, to enjoy to the fullest what he had so long been waiting to experience. But he didn't trust her. He placed his right hand closer to the gun, then with his left, reached down and grabbed a handful of flesh, squeezing the breast as he felt her lips begin to nibble along his body. His legs stiffened and his stomach muscles grew taut, afraid he would explode any minute, releasing all the pent-up emotions that had been building in him since that very first time he had realized that Maria had been more than a sister . . . that she had blown fully into a woman . . . more beautiful than any other Italian woman he had ever seen.