Sweet Seas

by Scarlett Finn

  After the couple were on board Eros, the first thing that Whitney wanted was her luggage brought over too. Swain had point blank refused to let them bring their belongings onboard; he said they wouldn’t be there that long. His attitude left poor Whitney in stunned silence.

  So, Sassi had put an arm around their female guest and guided her to the cabin that was meant to be occupied by the cook. Encouraging Whitney to shower and change into some borrowed clothes, Sassi tried to make their visitor comfortable.

  Whitney was taller and less busty, but they were roughly the same size. After Whitney had freshened up, Sassi had taken her into the mess where they’d found Swing and Fidget keeping Clive, Whitney’s shipmate, company.

  Doing her best to play hostess, Sassi had arranged it so the couple could sit together, putting Swing and Fidget on the bench with their backs to the galley and the guests opposite with their backs to the wall.

  “You don’t have any property on land?” Whitney said.

  “Not a scrap,” Sassi said, folding sugar into the meringue she’d whipped. “Everything I own is on this ship.”

  “So, if you weren’t here, you’d be…?”

  “Sleeping on the beach,” Sassi said, trying again to make the woman smile, but neither of their guests seemed to be in a smiley mood. Though she guessed that made sense after what they’d been through. “How long were you stranded out here?”

  “Since last night,” Whitney said, taking the time to sneer at the man beside her. “He told me he knew what he was doing. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

  “Gumdrop,” Clive said and tried to pick up her hand, but Whitney snatched it from his reach and slid down the bench, away from him.

  “Don’t you worry, the cap’n will get your boat mended,” Swing said. “Him and Foist know everything about every engine.”

  Whitney turned her disgust on Clive again. “Nice to know there are still some real men in the world. What a shame he’s already married…” She yanked the diamond from her ring finger and slapped it onto the table. “You can take that back, there’s no way I’ll marry you now.”

  Hiding her cringe, Sassi turned her back on the table and began to spread the meringue on the chocolate bread pudding mix she’d cooked earlier in the day. It always paid to have a dessert on the go because her boys would always hoover up whatever she made.

  The gym was a level below this one. Foist said he’d never done so much cardio on a voyage before. Sassi took that as a compliment, though he probably hadn’t meant it that way.

  It was sort of sad to witness the end of a relationship; Clive didn’t look like a bad guy. He’d just wanted to treat his fiancée with a nice romantic sail. He probably hadn’t meant to come this far into the ocean and he wouldn’t have meant to breakdown.

  Swain, Jockey, and Foist were assessing the other vessel to make sure there were no leakages or immediate threats of fire. The captain had said they’d do their full check and repair tomorrow. But, he wanted to make sure there was no chance of the yacht exploding and taking them down too.

  “Your captain is an abrupt man,” Whitney said. “I don’t know how you live with him. He could’ve let me pack a bag. I don’t see why it was such a problem for me to bring a few essentials… No offence to you, but I would prefer to wear my own clothes.”

  Most women could identify with that. Sassi also wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Whitney had removed silk and donned cotton. Her clothes didn’t even come close to matching the designer labels this lady was accustomed to.

  With her meringue in the oven, Sassi put the gloves on the counter and set the timer. “Let me see what I can do,” she said, putting the timer on the counter by the fridge before going to the table. “Now, Swing, don’t touch anything, but don’t let the place go on fire, okay?”

  Swing nodded. She touched his face to smile before skipping out of the mess. The top-tier trio of her crew was over on the other vessel. Whitney was right; she should be allowed her own possessions. Bringing her own toothbrush and sleepwear shouldn’t be seen as a travesty given that the couple had been through a trauma.

  When Sassi got out on deck, she looked from Eros to the Dreamboat and didn’t see anyone around. The gangplank was still rigged between the ships, at a sharp angle from their higher deck to the yacht’s lower one. Without the handrails, the thing was little more than an extended, narrow ramp. Whitney had freaked and Sassi hadn’t blamed her; she’d thought at the time that she was glad not to be the one crossing it.

  Now, it appeared she had no choice. Either she went back into the mess without trying or she took a deep breath and just did it. Swain would do it and he valued people who did what needed to be done.

  Marching over to the top of the gangplank, she wouldn’t be beaten by such a small space. The gangplank was long because it had to reach between decks, but the water exposure was only a few feet, just like Foist had said. Jumping onto the end, she put her arms out and balanced herself before speeding the few steps down onto the yacht.

  When she jumped onto their deck, she grinned and wanted to cheer for herself. But, admitted that would be dumb. If the guys in Eros’ wheelhouse were looking this way, they’d be able to see her, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.

  This was a nice boat.

  Looking around the bow she was standing on, Sassi admired the shiny white panels and smoked glass that made up the wheelhouse… if that’s what it was called on a boat like this. It didn’t have a sail, it was the type of boat that had an engine, probably more than one. It was only a fraction of the size of Eros, but it was luxurious.

  This could be what was classed as a sports yacht. It had a couple of decks and what looked like entertaining space that she noticed as she moved down the port side to try to find a way inside. Going down some stairs, she rounded through a set of doors and found herself inside a living space that had a kitchen beyond.

  But, she didn’t get much of a look at the darkened galley because the trio of men talking in the middle of the living room turned to her.

  Although she still gazed around in wonder, Swain came stalking toward her. “Is Eros on fire?” her captain demanded.

  “What?” she asked, focusing on him. “No! Why?”

  “Are you being chased?”

  Smiling, she wondered if he was playing with her. “By who?” But, he wasn’t smiling, he was scowling. Sassi flattened her lips, trying to project deference and solemnity, though she didn’t think she’d pulled it off because his scowl deepened. “No, sir, I’m not being chased.”

  “Then you have no fucking reason to be here,” he said. Grabbing her arm tight, he hauled her in the direction of the door. “Never leave your post without the captain’s permission.”

  “Ow, Swain,” she said, putting up a fight as he pushed her, but he stopped when she shoved him back. “If manhandling me ends in orgasm, I’m all for it. But, we don’t hurt each other for the sake of it.” He let her go and she rubbed her arm. “I can’t ask your permission if you’re not aboard. Whitney wants some things from her cabin. A toothbrush and a change of underwear isn’t too much to ask.”

  He moved like he was going to grab her again, but stopped himself and paused. After contemplating it for a second, he twisted away to sweep his arm in a gesture for her to carry on. She did. Jockey and Foist moved aside for her to march between them and she kept on going to the end of the space where there was a set of stairs with a couple of doors at the bottom of it.

  Swain was behind her all the way down, and reached around her to open the door to her right. Sassi went into the dark bedroom. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light and a flash behind her made her turn.

  Her captain was aiming the beam of a flashlight on another door. “Head,” he said then swung the light around to a dresser. “Clothes.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He held the light to help her grab what she thought Whitney might need from the bathroom. After closing the head do
or, Sassi went to open the dresser in the bedroom. Intimidated by the labels on the clothes and the quality of the underwear, she admired the softness of the lace of a bra. Her captain came up behind her. She thought he would comment on what she was doing, instead, he ducked to kiss the side of her neck.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured and put the flashlight on the dresser to wrap her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Psyche.”

  Turning to face him, the name made her curious. “Psyche?”

  “Eros’ consort,” he said. “A mortal woman turned into a goddess to be with her husband for eternity.”

  They were alone, he could relax, and let himself be soft with her. Sassi wasn’t sure she liked it when he let her in. If they started to care about each other… if they grew to care about each other more… this situation could end in heartbreak.

  No, it would end in heartbreak, for him anyway. Sassi could protect herself. But, her captain would be smarter to use her for physical relief and nothing else. She could never be anything else.

  “We don’t have eternity,” she said, linking her fingers at the back of his neck. “How do you know so much about Greek god stuff?”

  “All the ships are named after the gods and goddesses,” he said. “The first boat I ever bought was called Hestia. I read a few books and I dunno, somehow it became tradition.”

  “Never had a Psyche?”

  “Not until now,” he said and ducked to kiss her. Being a goddess was quite something to live up to. When she was alone with this man, he made her feel worshiped. As much as she wanted to be admired like that, in the way no other man had ever revered her, she couldn’t let this get away from her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  Picking up her arm, he began to kiss the spot he’d gripped upstairs. She shivered. “Not your fault… I’m sensitive there,” she said, because it was the same spot Dario had grabbed. It wasn’t still physically sore. But, psychologically, she hadn’t forgotten what he’d done to her. “I’m sorry I disobeyed orders.”

  “I have rules for a reason,” he said, still brushing his mouth over her skin. “What if there had been a problem with one of the lines and we’d come away from Eros?”

  “My captain’s lines? Loose? Please,” she said, tugging his mouth to hers. “But, if I had to be stranded anywhere, it would be on the same vessel as you… I could’ve played out another fantasy.”

  “You and your fantasies,” he muttered, but let her walk him backward toward the bed.

  “Yes,” she whispered, rising to her tiptoes to kiss him. Pulling his belt from its buckle, she kept distracting his mouth and urged him to sit on the bed so she could climb into his lap. “Me and my fantasies… Are you going to punish me for them, Captain?”

  Grabbing her wrists, he flipped her onto her back and pinned her down with his weight and tight grip. “Depends,” he said. “This is your fantasy… tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t want you to ever apologize for being rough again,” she said, pushing her shoulders into the bed to present her breasts, which he was happy to fondle after switching both her wrists into one of his adept hands. “And, I want you to fuck me hard and fast right here.”

  Running both hands down her body, he scooped his long fingers around her hips. “The underwear turn you on?” he asked, licking her jaw and nipping her chin before kissing her.

  “You turn me on,” she said and then put pressure on his shoulders to push him up enough that she could look at him. “I’ll never be like her… I’ll never be expensive and refined.”

  Easing further back, his brows moved closer together. “Gumdrop we dragged off here?” he asked and she nodded, gnawing on her lip. “Would you trade Eros for this?”

  “This dingy?” she asked and shook her head, struck by the barb of offense that impaled her. “How could you ask something like that? Eros is my home, she’s special to me…” Eros was a masculine name, but the ship was a she. All ships were ‘she’ apparently. It sickened Sassi whenever she thought about walking away from the vessel that had cradled and cared for her; sometimes more than the idea of losing the crew. “I feel nauseous now you’ve said that.”

  But, when she tried to move out from beneath him, Swain snagged her wrists and slammed them onto the bed above her head. “That’s how I feel when you compare my wife to that prima donna… I would never touch a woman like her.”

  She shouldn’t be jealous or insecure, but Sassi wanted to tell him he wasn’t allowed to touch any woman other than her. On Eros his options were limited, and as soon as they were back on shore with civilization, he’d be a free man.

  Rather than get deep, or address their lack of claim to each other, she made a joke. “I should’ve checked out their galley before I refused the switch. If they have a double oven up there…”

  Tipping her head left to right, she pretended to be weighing options.

  The corner of his mouth twitched and he dropped his head onto hers to stop it moving. “Eros is overdue for upgrades, maybe put in a requisition request and you never know…”

  He was happy to make her sexual fantasies come true; now, he was offering to make her culinary dreams a reality as well. Swallowing the truth that wouldn’t escape from her consciousness, she again had to admit that she’d never set foot on Eros again once this voyage was over.

  “You’re a fantasy behind, Captain… You haven’t satisfied my last request, so I can’t make a new one.”

  Rolling onto his side just long enough to pull off her jeans, he was quick to return to his position above her, and began to finger her clit. “Aye, aye,” he said, lowering his mouth onto hers.

  Sassi had said that she was his for the duration of this job. Some part of her wanted to stay on the waves forever because if they never went back and were always on this job, she would never have to let her captain go.

  FOURTEEN

  Fixing the Dreamboat’s engine wasn’t going to take much. The kicker was that there was still fuel in the tank; that bastard Clive just didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. All the glitz and expense that surrounded the damn dingy, yet the fucker scrimped on basic maintenance. It wasn’t the yacht’s fault she hadn’t been looked after.

  Swain was ascending the gangplank between the vessels with Jockey just behind him. They’d been over there since lunch. All of his Eros’ duties had been neglected in deference to getting the Dreamboat going. The longer they stayed at anchor, the more money he and his guys were losing.

  “We get them underway at dawn,” Jockey said behind him. Wiping engine grease from his hands, Swain stuffed the rag in his pocket when he was done. “If Gumdrop gets out of bed. Sas had to serve our guests a private breakfast they slept in so late. It’s not fair on the lass to ask her to serve every meal three times.”

  Once to his shift, then to the second team, and now to their guests. Going into his cabin last night to find a naked woman sleeping in his berth had been a strange experience. The vision she’d made had preoccupied him all day. Not that he’d let her stay asleep for long, but it was a good view while it lasted. He’d never had a girlfriend on board during a voyage before. Women caused a distraction. He’d always been particular about that, but he was fast learning he liked it.

  From the corner of his eye, he noticed movement on his forecastle. Going to the handrail at the top of the stairs, he shaded his eyes from the sun and saw his woman bent over. Mm, that ass. He’d never get enough. Right now, she was wearing a little black tennis skirt that he knew she’d got with her uniform delivery, meaning it bore his name. She was bent over so far that he could see the curve of her backside. While it was his instinct to enjoy the view, he realized that Tune, who was in the wheelhouse with Swing, would be getting the same view.

  “Hmm, if I was ten years younger…” Jockey said.

  The first-mate was the only man who’d get away with saying something like that and he only got away with it because Swain knew he was no threat. Jockey was protective of Sassi in the same way he was of every crew me
mber younger than him, which was all of them.

  “You wish, Old Salt,” Swain said, giving him a shove. “And, try twenty-five years. You need to be fit to keep up with a wench like my Sassi.”

  Taking his fingers to his mouth, Swain whistled loud to get her attention. It worked, she straightened to turn around. That was when he saw his waif had been pouring something from the large clear pitcher in her hand into the cup that was propped in the dainty fingertips of their esteemed Gumdrop who was strewn across the fucking forecastle in a bikini with Clive laid out next to her.

  “I’ll wring her fucking neck,” Swain hissed, gesturing for Sassi to come over.

  “Don’t you say nothing to upset Sassi. She’s a good girl.”

  “Not the waif,” he said, growling as he watched Sassi teeter on her tiptoes toward the stairs he was at the top of. “The fucking prima donna.”

  Sassi wasn’t wearing her shades, like she usually did when she was out in the sun, and although she was smiling, he didn’t like what he saw. “Captain,” she said, holding up her pitcher as she ascended to them. “Would you like some fresh-squeezed orange juice?”

  “Fresh-squeezed?” Jockey said. “What’s wrong with the normal stuff?”

  “Whitney doesn’t like concentrate,” she said and bit her lip, raising her shoulders like she was excited. “I’m going to make kiss-me cake.”

  “Kiss me, what?” Jockey asked and put a hand on her shoulder. “If you gotta make a cake to make him kiss you then you got a problem, lass.”

  Swain felt his irritation rise. “No, silly, with the orange rind… but it takes a while, so I better hustle,” she said and started forward. “Oh, Whitney asked if I can get champagne from the Dreamboat. Can I go over there, Captain?”

  “No,” he snapped so abruptly that he startled both Sassi and Jockey. His girl’s smile faded, but he couldn’t shake his mood. “Where the fuck are your sunglasses? And, where did she get a swimsuit?”

  Squirming, she curled her free hand around the curve of the pitcher. “I know you don’t like it, I’m sorry,” she said. “She was going through my clothes and she found my white bikini. I tried to tell her it wasn’t allowed, but—”