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“Mr. Reynolds, you are crass. I’m not sure if he would; ifIwould.” I shook my head, watching how his eyes combed over my legs which were tucked up to my chest. I took in his broad shoulders and thick arms straining against his uniform, the memory of the long line of his body felt against mine pranced over me. I could not always tell where I drew the line between blood lust and true lust, and this was one of those times when it appeared extra hazy.
My teeth sunk into my lip and with my back resting against the wall, I brought my knees up to spread them wide. Slowly, I pulled the dress up and over my knees to expose my thighs, tucking the excess fabric in between so James could not see any more than I intended him to in this moment. His eyes wandered, cheeks flushed.
“How would you know if you never try? You would be surprised at what you’d find.” He slowly made his way over, crouching on the floor in front of me. James’s warm hand gently grazed my leg from my calf up to my knee and down my thigh. I quietly sucked in a breath, setting the cup on the floor next to me. His pounding heart was deafening, his breath quickening. Expectation flared inside me.
“I thank you for the coffee, Mr. Reynolds,” I purred. “It has been immensely helpful.” With one hand, I trailed my neckline, pulling it down lower just so he could see the cusp of my breast. He leaned in, soft and supple lips on my neck.
“Have you ever been with a woman, Mr. Reynolds?” I asked as his hand went from my thigh to under the slip of my dress.
“It has been some time…” His voice husky with need. I chuckled, taking his other hand and allowing him to free my breast from the dress.
“As it has been for me,” I whispered. His fingers found my entrance, dipping in slowly as I cried out. I found his mouth, my tongue sliding over his. It lacked much of the spark that I’d felt with William, and I had a pang of guilt for that thought alone. But the hunger was too much, I needed to be filled, I needed to scream someone’s name, I needed to remove him from my mind.
I began to undo James’s pants, pulling him from his trousers and stroking his length.
“Please, fuck me,” I begged quietly. Before he could react, I heard the tromp of boots in the distance. “Your father is coming!” I hissed, quickly righting myself. James, flustered and panicked, shoved himself back in his trousers, fumbling over to the desk with the map.
He was red in the face and bursting from his trousers, his eyes pleading me to be silent. His father opened the door a moment later and James cleared his throat uncomfortably. I grabbed the blanket from my cot, wrapping myself in it, holding my empty mug as I was still tucked in the corner. James took a final bite of the bread.
“Son, is Mrs. Blackwell awake yet?” Nicholas asked, trampling in. James fumbled over his words and I laughed.
“Good morning, Captain.” I said cheerily.
“I am sorry if he disturbed you, had we another area to work, I assure you I would—”
“Sir,” I interrupted. “Mr. Reynolds was so kind as to bring me coffee and some breakfast. I apologize for imposing, please do not feel as though you cannot complete your work because of me.” Nicholas grinned, unbelievably pleased.
“Keep an eye on her, son, some of the rascals downstairs can hardly contain themselves.” He shook his head. It took everything in me to stifle the giggle, for it was James who could hardly contain himself, angling his bulging trousers under the table just so. Before he could reply to his father, there came a loud commotion from the deck, men shouting at one another in rage.
“Christ almighty,” Captain Reynolds sighed, motioning for his son to join him in an attempt at order.
When the door snicked shut, I made my way to the desk, sitting in James’s chair. I rested my face in my hands, stress rolling through me. This was going to be one of those obnoxiously long moments in my immortal life where I wished for theultima mortem. It was too bright outside to risk a walk with how thirsty I was.
I traced my fingers over a stack of the items carried below, they were tallied twice and initialed by a J. R. I let my mind wander as I outlined his lettering, let it wander to my daughter. What would she look like now? Green eyes and dark hair, musical and endearing? My hands traveled down to my flat and never changing stomach.
The tears that always followed the memory of seeing her gripped in Noel’s hand came as a waterfall. No matter how much time passed the pain was still surmounting, and try as I might to move beyond it, the lack of closure would never allow it. I never even got to hold her.
I was not paying attention enough to hear Captain Reynolds open the door, not until he sucked in a sharp breath, rushing over to me. Startled, I cupped my hand over my mouth for fear he might see the fangs that sprang from surprise. The captain pulled me into a soft, father-like embrace. I tried to pull myself away, but he shushed me, holding me like a child. And in a way, it was nice.
“Dear Mrs. Blackwell, how could I be so insensitive to a woman with child! I did not realize it!” Nicholas rubbed my back soothingly.
A woman with child… I could run with it, though they were already so kind and giving without the extra lies. Guilt formed like lead in my stomach, I was already taking too much and I did not know if I could risk any more of a watchful eye.
“I can’t be sure, I was going to see a doctor when we arrived home in New York, sir,” I sniffled into his shoulder.
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Blackwell,” he said again and again as he held me to his chest, stroking my hair. After several moments of cooing, he let me pull away, his hands on my shoulders. “You must eat something! My son has said you have had nothing, and with what you have gone through within the past few days, a lady must eat.” He left quickly and I groaned with chagrin. I knew what was about to ensue.
The cook brought up entirely too much: fish, vegetables, fruits, anything they had stocked down in the kitchen he readily supplied me. It was too kind a gesture, every refusal was cast aside and I found myself vomiting overboard by sunset. When dinner preparations for the crew finally pulled his attention away from me, I was beyond grateful. It was a mere waste of their resources.
There on the deck, with the cool salty air blowing my hair, I did not feel so nauseated. The stars peered through the gray clouds, which cast darkness as they crossed paths with the moon.
I watched for some time to see if James would return to the captain’s quarters but as the night grew later, he was nowhere to be found. In my haste, I managed to snag a crew member from the boiler room, draining him and disposing of his body in the fires. Satiated and feeling more myself than before, excitement slithered through me when I caught a whiff of James’s scent below deck.
The trail was just as deep inside the belly of the ship as the boiler room had been and led me straight to the cargo hold. I peeked inside the metal doorway, James’s back to me. I stepped inside the wide space, stacked high with pallets and crates, watching as he tallied various goods quietly. He had not heard me approach, and I knew this would be the moment to seize.
I locked the cargo hold door with a loud clanking, startling him. He whirled around to the door, and I moved quickly from his eyeline behind a crate while trying my best to contain a mischievous giggle.
“Hello?” James called, peering around. I dropped the dress at my feet and with speed I knew he’d be unable to detect, I ran behind him to precisely place myself on the cargo he had last tallied.
