STORY EXCERPT

Bending to check the printed details on the outside of the last crate, and concentrating hard on deciphering the wording, her vision became blocked by a pair of sturdy boots, scuffed and lacking the new leather sheen of her own. Hesitating, her gaze then slowly lifted, noting thick thighs, narrow hips the jeans held in place by a low-slung leather belt. Then travelled further up to a hard, large chest encased in a chunky wool sweater, and then on to broad shoulders, a tight, square jaw made more masculine by designer stubble and high cheekbones, and finally to narrowed, jet-black eyes.

“What’s your name?” the man barked.

Rosie gazed, mesmerised. He was gorgeous, so gorgeous in fact, that he looked like a god, and his voice, deep and gravelly, sent shivers of delight licking throughout her body. Her mouth parted as her breath became fast and shallow, and her small tongue peeked out, licking suddenly dry lips.

“I think I’m going to faint,” she whispered, raising a hand to her head.

“What!”

Blinking quickly, Rosie rapidly pulled herself together, but not without some difficulty.

“Err, I, mmm, yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Err, yes sir?” she mumbled incoherently.

Clicking his fingers in front of her face, he attempted to gain her attention.

“Hello, is there any sense in there! I repeat, what’s your name?”

“Oh! Oh, it’s Rosie, Rosie Florence Robinson.” She could feel a burning heat rise in her cheeks. She must have sounded like an absolute fool reciting her full name like a silly first grader and calling him sir—he was probably only an ordinary crewman. She must have sounded ridiculous and childish and she hurriedly sort to cover her faux pas.

“Err, I’m the ship’s chef, well, the cook really, but I rather like the title of chef! It sounds so much more, well, more sophisticated, wouldn’t you say? No, that’s not the word I’m looking for, what I mean is, err, professional, yes, that’s it, chef sounds so much more professional, and I do so think it’s important to appear professional, don’t you, even if it’s on a sh—”

“Shut up!”

Rosie’s mouth closed with a snap, but she couldn’t help it. Her brain wouldn’t engage, and her mouth seemed to be running away with her.

“Well really! How terribly rude.”

“There is no way in hell you are serving on this ship.” The man glared at her.

Rosie smiled pityingly at him. Ah, he was obviously confused.

“Oh yes I am, I’m Rosie Fl–err, Rosie Robinson.” She snatched the clipboard off him and scanned it. “Look, see, that’s me, there.” She pointed out her name three quarters of the way down on the list. “Rosie Robinson, United Kingdom—cook. Oh that’s a pity, I had hoped they’d give me the title of chef, but there it is in black and white.” She tapped the clip board. “Rosie Robinson, cook!” She finished triumphantly. “Me, see…” She trailed off.

“Repack your things Miss Robinson. You will be leaving this vessel.”

Turning abruptly, he strode away, his back rigid and shoulders set.

Rosie sniffed and gazed after him, feeling ever so slightly dispirited.

Seconds later Brian joined her, his look sympathetic.

“Who was he?” Rosie asked, feeling slightly teary.

“Caleb Black. He’s the main man, a top scientist in charge of the expedition, a marine biologist, one of the best and very well respected.”

“He told me to leave.”

“Yeah I heard—sorry.”

“But can he do that? I mean, he’s not the captain or anything.”

“The captain is in charge of the ship, but Caleb is in charge of the whole expedition, so his word is law, but I wouldn’t worry, we’re not going to get another cook now, so just carry on doing your job and he’ll change his mind.”

“How do you know he’ll not get a replacement?”

Brian shrugged. “We’re setting off tomorrow, and you were a last-minute replacement for the last cook who took ill, so he’s no chance now.”

Feeling slightly better, although, knowing she had been only taken on because there wasn’t anyone else deflated her ego slightly. Rosie indicated to Brian that the last crate should be taken below and followed him down the many levels to the galley.

The galley was large, although it had no windows. There was a state-of-the-art cooker with ten rings and three ovens. The galley also sported a huge fridge and freezer where some of the stores were kept, however, there were further rooms for frozen goods and a room for dried goods. The kitchen also boasted cupboards galore, a huge preparation area, and an enormous table with numerous chairs positioned around it. Large pots and pans hung from the ceiling, and there was a big stainless-steel urn which was filled to capacity with water and was merrily boiling away ready for tea.

So far she was impressed with what she had seen. The galley was high-tech and the storage facilities more than adequate. A quick tour had been taken the day before, and the ship boasted labs, a gym, cabins, recreational rooms, and shower rooms besides the necessary technical rooms. In fact, it was a fantastic edifice of design and efficiency. Everyone had their own cabin, but the heads, which she’d learnt were the toilets and the shower rooms, were shared. Her cabin was pristine if a little small, with a narrow, hard bed, a bedside table, built-in cupboards, a small sink, and a couple of shelves.

Brian was efficient and soon had all the provisions stowed away, and so, coat off, apron donned, and hands washed, she collected the vegetables she needed for a hearty soup and began on her preparations for dinner. Brian began peeling and chopping the vegetables, which left her free to deal with the rest of the food. Lifting out two huge ribs of beef, she placed them in sizeable roasting tins before gathering the fresh ingredients for Yorkshire puddings. They wouldn’t normally eat this well, but a start of an adventure such as this one, she considered, needed a celebration, and a good tasty meal would make something more of their first night on board.

The galley door opened. Rosie looked up. Caleb Black stood on the threshold, his face as grim as before.

“I thought I told you to pack.”

ADULT EXCERPT

Turning as the door opened, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of her standing in the doorway.

“You’re up late—or early, whichever way you might look at it—is something wrong?”

“Err, no.” Rosie turned to leave. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t.” He held up a mug. “Just getting a coffee, want some?”

“Err, no, it’s alright. I, err, I’d better go.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to leave? You obviously came in here for something, and considering the lateness of the hour I would suppose it’s a warm drink of some kind, so…”

He indicated the stove with something of a flourish. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Undecided, Rosie moved from foot to foot.

Caleb leant back against the sink, legs crossed at the ankles, his demeanour one of nonchalant amusement. “Come on, Rosie, what’s stopping you? Could it be you’re scared?”

“Of what?” Rosie lifted her chin.

“Of me.”

“How ridiculous, of course I’m not. What could I possibly be scared of? I just didn’t want to disturb you, that was all, and I was just being thoughtful, but trust you to turn it into something more sinister. Why can’t you…”

Rosie’s voice trailed off as Caleb moved to stand in front of her.

“Err, why can’t y…”

Caleb reached out and lifted her chin and bent his head, and just before his lips found hers he remarked in a calm but amused voice, “You’re babbling again, Rosie.”

It took only seconds for Rosie to forget her previous good intentions and wind her arms around his neck.

Pulling her closer, Caleb caressed her scantily clad curves whilst his lips performed their magic and drew from her a reluctant groan.

Giving kiss for kiss, Rosie gave herself up to his mastery and made not a protest as his hand pushed its way into the now-open jacket of her pyjamas.

Groaning as his hand cupped the soft curve of her breast and his fingers tweaked her nipple, Rosie could think of nothing more than her own satisfaction and pressed even closer, her little murmurs of appreciation encouraging him to be more daring.

Lifting her into his arms, Caleb moved over to the table and, laying her down on its hard surface, continued kissing her as his hands found the yielding flesh of her stomach. Pulling her pyjama bottoms down, he gazed his fill at the triangle of curls that protected her femininity, and then with a questioning lift of his eyebrow he, at her nod, pulled the pyjamas off her legs and threw them onto the floor. With no thought of modesty, Rosie opened her legs, allowing him more freedom to explore the silkiness at the apex of her thighs.

Positioning himself between her thighs, Caleb pulled her yielding body further to the edge of the table and lifted her legs around his hips. Willingly, Rosie shifted so her bottom was flush with the edge of the wood and, crossing her ankles at Caleb’s back, held him captive in the cradle of her pelvis.

Leaning forward, Caleb stroked and caressed her naked breasts, and with his gaze locked with hers, he silently asked the question. Without hesitation Rosie nodded, her legs tight around his waist urging him on.

“Yes, Caleb, please, please fuck me.” She groaned, desperate to feel his entry into her body.

Needing no second bidding, Caleb, with his zip already undone, allowed his cock to surge free, the head nudging urgently at her clitoris.

Pushing his cock toward her entrance, Caleb teased her nub with his fingers, bringing it thrumming to life.

Groaning in pleasure, Rosie rocked her hips in an imitation of being fucked, until with a primal groan Caleb gave her what she craved for most and thrust unerringly home.

“Oh God, Caleb, that’s good,” Rosie cried as he worked his cock in and out of her pussy. “That’s it, do it harder. Oh please, screw me, fuck me, make me come.”

Leaning forward, Caleb lifted her legs higher, and, his hands finding purchase on the table, he continued to pound into Rosie, each thrust hard and forceful, bringing from her cries of delight.

The sounds and smells of sex mixing with the smell of coffee and the muted throbbing of the engine heightened their mating, until, with an animalist groan, Caleb came, just as Rosie fell over the edge into an orgasm that brought from her cries and gasps of pleasure. Lights exploding in her head and tingles like fiery fingers rippling over her skin had her gasping and groaning in primitive satisfaction.

Pulling out of Rosie, his cock slick with their juices, Caleb calmly adjusted his clothing, and as Rosie still lay completely enervated spread-eagled on table, he closed her legs and pulled her robe over her to cover her modesty and, catching hold of one of her hands, helped her to her feet.

Breathing quickly, Rosie gazed silently at Caleb, trying hard to come to grips with why she had behaved in such a wanton way, as to have sex with a man she barely knew, and on a kitchen table of all places, and where they could so easily be discovered. But even as those thoughts registered, she knew that if the opportunity came to make love with him again she would take it, even if for him it meant nothing more than a way to relieve his sexual needs, a quick shag with a willing partner.

Bending his head, Caleb kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss that caressed her lips. Clutching his shirt front, Rosie sought to deepen the kiss, but he drew away and, looking deeply into her eyes, he kissed her cheek. Still smiling, he rebuttoned her pyjama jacket and, bending quickly, scooped up her pyjama bottoms and handed them to her before turning her in the direction of the door and smacking her gently on her bottom.