Rapture's Rendezvous (7 page)

“And might you have a friend on deck?” Grace said, seeing Alberto's steady gaze around him. “Do you have a wife who might, uh, miss you for a while?”

Alberto cleared his throat nervously. “No,” he said thickly. “I don't have a wife.” Did he look old enough to have a wife? Maria had often told him that he looked older than his age of sixteen. Had she been correct in saying this? Damn. It made him quite proud of his six-foot height and broad shoulders. He felt like an older man, with feelings fast encompassing him that he knew older men must have every day of their lives. But older men usually had wives to share these feelings, with whom they could release their sexual tensions.

This day he would take from this wench all she was capable of giving him. He hastened his footsteps as they reached the doorway that led downward.

“So you are alone on this voyage?” Grace asked, finding it hard to keep up with his long stride. God. Did she have an eager one on her hands. But, he would soon find that he shouldn't have been so easy.

“No. Not quite,” he answered.

Shadows fell across Grace's face. “Then … who .. . might you be with?”

Alberto now bent his shoulders and leaned down, for to stand upright would mean for his head to scrape against the low ceiling of this long, low hallway that he was being guided down. He stepped high, to miss a stray, empty wine bottle that was suddenly at his feet. He squinted his eyes, seeing only the dim lighting from the whale oil lights that lined this wall. “My sister Maria,” he finally answered, brushing his hands along the wall, to steady himself as Grace stepped in front of him, to place a key into a lock.

Grace turned to Alberto, reaching up to touch his face before pushing the door open. “Then you have no father or mother aboard this ship?” she asked coyly. “Just you and your sister?”

“And why does it even matter?”

“I only wish to show interest in anyone I take to my personal bunk,” she answered. “That's all.”

“Then now you know all you have to know to take this man to your bunk,” Alberto said, taking the liberty to swing the door aside, revealing a semi-dark room, occupied only by a long, thin bunk. Discarded, uneaten food lay scattered across the floor, along with more strewn, empty wine bottles. One lone whale oil lamp flickered in pale goldens on the cabin's outside wall. Alberto screwed his nose up, wiping it with the back of a hand. The aroma of this cabin was one similar to
dried urine and feces, making his stomach almost turn. His eyes tilted in wonder. “And this is your cabin? It isn't as clean as I imagined … or as fully furnished.”

Grace swung her hips smoothly as she walked on past him, making her fully gathered blue silk dress rustle enticingly. Her hair shone in rustic coppers as it bounced atop her shoulders and her lips moved seductively as she talked. “A bunk is all that is required for my services,” she said. She pulled at his hand, urging him onward. “Now isn't that right, darlin'? And a maid I'm not. Who worries about a bit of filth when there are more interestin' things to set a mind to wanderin'?”

When she had succeeded at getting Alberto inside the cabin, she shut the door and turned to him, slowly tantalizing him with her lips and fingers as she began to unbutton his shirt.

“Yeah. I'm sure,” he mumbled, then couldn't help himself when he yanked her into his arms, smothering her with kisses on the fullness of her lips, then down-ward, to brush his tongue across her breasts. She was right. There were more things of interest in this cabin to make one forget any ugliness about it. She was here. His heart thundered inside him .. . anxious. . . .

She giggled noisily, pulling away from him, teasing him with her eyes. “Whoa. Slow down,” she purred, reaching back to unfasten her dress. She stepped out of it, slow but sure, all the while watching him and how he was openly panting after her. “Well?” she added. “You gonna do it with your breeches on?” She stopped long enough to touch him where his swollen member throbbed against the tight confines of his breeches.

“No,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “Guess not.” His fingers busied with unbuttoning his breeches, then
stepped from them as she continued to shed her clothes, until she stood nude before him, appearing eager, ready….

He wanted to hurry with his attack, yet she looked so lovely with the whale oil lights reflecting onto her skin of ivory. It was as though a sunset was in this room . . . casting warm glows of gold rippling down the front of her. “You are so breathtakingly beautiful,” he whispered, reaching to touch her. His breath began to come in short gasps as she leaned into him, fitting her lower bush of hair against his erect manhood.

“You can have me now if you want,” she whispered, tilting her chin upward, so his mouth could hit the target she was offering.

Alberto lunged toward her, not knowing which part of her he wanted to touch first. She was all woman . . . so fully blown. .. .

“Let's lie down,” she encouraged, taking him by the hand, leading him across the room.

He followed after her, breathing hard. He didn't hear the door open behind him, but soon felt hands other than Grace's grasp him by the wrist. “What the hell . . . ?” he shouted, then felt a point of a knife scraping against his backside.

“Just shut yore mouth, sonny boy,” the unseen man drawled.

Alberto tensed, quickly recognizing the voice. It was Sam. The man who had stepped on Alberto's hand just only moments ago when Alberto had been trying to fill his pockets with his winnings from the card game. A prickly sensation flooded his senses, throwing caution into his thoughts. “What are you doing here?” he snarled, but uttered a low moan when the blade of the
knife left a thin trail of blood down his back.

“Just do as you are tor, and we'll see to it tha' you don' get hurt none,” Sam growled.

Alberto swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to show a cowardly side to his nature. But he didn't want to get hurt, either. He had not only himself to protect, but also Maria. “What do you want?” he said quietly, knowing the answer to that before he even spoke. Sam had come for the money. Alberto had been set up. He looked toward Grace and saw the look of mockery flashing in her green eyes, making them look even more like those of a cat. His eyes raked over her nakedness, so sure it wasn't he who would be sleeping with her now. He had lost… and more than money… it seemed.

Sam shoved Alberto onto the bunk. “Get ‘im ready, Grace,” he growled. “You know wha' I mean.”

Alberto was now able to see all around him. His heart throbbed wildly when he saw Sam standing there with a knife in one hand, and the other resting on a holstered gun. Hopes of coming out of this alive quickly dwindled.

“Come on, darlin'. Relax,” Grace purred, stretching her body out next to Alberto's.

“What the … ?” Alberto gasped, suddenly realizing that Grace was continuing with her efforts of seducing him. Her fingers traced a path downward, stopping on his manhood, fondling it until it sprang up again, even though there was an audience. He closed his eyes, not wanting to be a part of this ugly scene, but he couldn't control the lusty urges building up inside him. When Grace's tongue replaced her fingers, he stiffened, breathing wildly, feeling the warmth seizing his insides,
ready to erupt into a million spasms of delight. Then Sam stepped forward and took Grace by the hand. . . .

“Enough, little woman,” he snarled.

Alberto opened his eyes, startled. He watched as Grace went to stand across the room to watch while Sam approached Alberto with his breeches removed. “What do you think you're going to do with me?” Alberto shouted, trying to climb from the bunk, but stopped when a gun-toting Grace walked across the room, pointing it at Alberto.

“Now, just you shut up, darlin',” she purred, smiling wickedly. “You're soon to find out just how we get our pleasures aboard this movin' vessel. There's more to life than playin' poker. . ..”

“You . .. can't. . . .”Alberto whined, then felt Sam's fingers twist around his hair to yank him from the bunk.

“We . . . can .. . and we will, sonny boy,” Sam growled, moving around to Alberto's behind.

“Stop. . ..” Alberto moaned when he felt the stiffness of Sam's sex press against his buttocks. When the lunge was made inside him, he gritted his teeth together, to keep from screaming. He closed his eyes. It was all too humiliating. He tensed when the pain began to wrack his body. He was being raped . . . but. . . by a . . . man. He had never felt more degraded in his life. He would be nothing but grime when these two finished with him.

He began to tremble as cold sweat began to pop out along the full length of his body. He opened his eyes momentarily, to see a look of hungry desire in Grace's eyes as she continued to stand and watch. When Sam's body became all tremors, Alberto felt as though his
body was going to be torn in half. He couldn't help but let out a loud sob as he was pushed to the floor in a heap. He rolled up into a fetal position, waiting for the final insult. . . death. But he would welcome it now. . . .

“Git up and get yore clothes on, sonny boy,” Sam growled, already dressing himself.

Alberto's eyes opened widely. He looked around the room, searching for his clothes. He felt anger rising inside himself when he saw Grace emptying his pockets of everything. They had taken his male virginity from him . . . and now they were also taking his winnings. He had lost. Everything. Everything … but… Maria. “Oh, Maria,” he thought desperately to himself. “How can I ever tell you?” He knew that they always shared everything. But this was one thing … he could never share with her.

“Did ya hear?” Sam growled, kicking Alberto in the ribs with the sharp point of a boot. “Get yoreself up and get dressed. Do ya think we wan' to be stuck with the likes of you all evenin'? We have other crops to pick.”

Groaning, Alberto pushed himself from the floor, feeling an unusual heaviness in his body. Each movement was as though he was a tied rope … ready to snap. He wasn't sure which part of him ached the most, but he managed to get to his clothes. Piece by piece he struggled, until he was finally fully clothed. Then he eyed Sam and Grace, wondering what to expect next.

Sam slithered toward him, waving the opened knife in his face once again, chewing on a fresh wad of tobacco, now fully clothed. “Now, sonny boy, if'n ya tell who it was who done this to ya, I guess I don' have to tell ya whut to ‘spect from me,” he drawled.

Alberto's eyes widened. “I won't tell,” he mumbled. “Honest.”

“Too bad you didn't get to get into Grace's pants,” Sam laughed boisterously. “She has a way of showin' fun, like no other whore has.”

Alberto felt a brief brave tremor surge through his veins. He set his jaw firmly and said, “Then why did you do . . . that… to me? Why didn't you just. . . go … to bed … with Grace?”

Sam spat tobacco juice onto the floor, laughing raucously. With one brow raised higher than the other, he slapped Alberto softly on the cheek. “Sonny boy, don' you know you're just as purty as a woman?” he snickered. “Not too often one comes along like you. When they does? I has me my fun.”

Alberto's face flamed. He had never been compared to a woman before. His fury was kindled even more. “You can't be from my country,” Alberto snapped. “None of my people could be as filthy-minded as you.”

“You guessed it right and proper, sonny boy,” Sam said, winking. “I make it my pleasure to ride these ships from New York to Italy. Gets me more rich each trip. Tha's why I couldn't let you step away from that poker game with all my money.”

“I'd gladly have given you all you asked for,” Alberto said glumly. “But why did you have to degrade me so? Why?”

“Like I said. You're an extra purty one, you are.”

“I'd like to kill you,” Alberto snarled. “And I must tell you, if I get the chance, I will.”

The knife blade moved closer to his throat. “Now, I don' like hearin' talk like that,” Sam growled. “I thought you had agreed to forget wha' happen here.”
“I agreed to not tell anyone. But I didn't agree to forget. I can never forget. This nightmare will live with me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, you poor child,” Sam teased, then walked away, whispering to Grace as she hurriedly dressed.

Alberto saw a possible chance for escape. With two steps of his long legs, he was at the door and out into the hall. But after taking only two more steps, he felt a rushing blow against the back of his skull and was suddenly drifting into a black, swirling mist of nothingness. . . .

Not able to remember anything else, Alberto's mind switched back to the present. The flesh of his face felt on fire. He tried to lick his lips, to moisten them, but nothing. He still couldn't awaken fully enough to arouse Maria, to tell her of his needs. If he didn't get food and water inside him soon … he knew the surety of his fate. His insides were begging for … food . . . and water.. ..

Blinking his eyes, trying to keep the rays of the sun from scorching his eyeballs even more, he felt a sense of relief when tears managed to trickle from the corner of an eye. When Maria began to stir and looked upward onto his face, he waited for her to discover … the tears.. . .

Maria's breath came in quick, short gasps when she saw the first signs of Alberto's possibly coming out of the darkness of near death. His eyes were open as they had been at times, but now there were tears, which had to mean that he was aware of things . . . people . . . around him.

Leaning down into his face, Maria whispered,
“Alberto? Sweet Alberto. Do you hear me? Are you going to be all right?” Sobs shook her body as her fingertips ran across his dry, cracked lips. “Please tell me that you are going to be all right. If you die, so must I. We are one . . . you and I.”

Alberto opened his mouth and managed to force
three words from between his lips. “Maria . . .” he
mumbled. “I'm … hot “