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"Hello, Miss Fortner," a pleasant voice sounded from behind her back.She turned around to see the captain standing in front of her, his hands stuck dapperly in the pockets of his uniform jacket. "Captain Rigby," she said, looking at the tall, slender model of ocean-going official dignity. He was every inch a captain of an ocean vessel.Probably the type to go down with the ship, Blair thought as he stood there smiling pleasantly at her."You look a mite bored with all this," the captain said, gesturing to the breeze."Oh, no," Blair lied, "I mean, yes, a little." Be glad to get into port, I take it," he said, nodding his captain's head."Can't wait," she said, leaning against the railing and sensing the chill in the air."Perhaps I could help amuse you for a bit," the dapper man said.Blair smiled at him patiently. He wasn't exactly her type, but maybe he didn't have the same thing in mind she had just then."Ever seen the boiler room of a ship?" he said, "It's quite interesting. Perhaps. ” Unable to prevent it, a crimson flush broke out on my face. So much for my new safety blanket. Angered by being caught wearing it, I tried to think of something scathing to say, something fierce. On the verge of replying I felt your hand slowly skim down my face until the back of your hand gently began to trace my lips. “Don’t.” I whispered into the night, my voice almost trembling. What ever happened to me wanting to sound fierce? Softly laughing you mocked my entreaty. “If you want me to stop, then stop me.” Your body tensed against mine, a lion ready to pounce, to conquer its prey, confident in the knowledge of its strength, confident in the knowledge of my weakness. Your lips descended on mine, as your hand moved to the back of my neck, holding me against you. Clenching my teeth, I tried to deny your tongue access, to resist you. I felt the back of your hand squeeze my neck slightly, a silent warning not to resist. Torn between my raging emotions I couldn’t decide whether or.
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