Sea Change (24 page)

He'd sooner smash himself in the face with a belaying pin than talk her out of it.

He almost asked her if she was sure, but his cock overruled his mind again, and instead he lowered his head to kiss her.

Her mouth was sweet beneath his, sweet and innocent like no other women he'd ever kissed. Even the ones who were shy maidens willing to give a boy a quick peck were tutored in the way of being women, knew how to flirt and use their eyes and make a man feel so very masculine.

Charley was...Charley. Her responses were genuine and real. She was a novice at kissing, and he was thrilled to be the one who would teach her. He brought his hands up and cradled her head, angling his lips to guide her. The passion he felt from her as she tightened her arms around his neck and rose up on her toes to deepen the kiss touched a chord deep inside him, making him feel that more than at any time with any woman, he want to make this right. For Charley.

He broke the kiss and began unfastening her coat. When she tensed beneath his hands he said, "Do you want to do this yourself?"

"No--it is just that..."

"What?"

"I do not know what to do!"

He looked down at her for a long moment, at the bright color in her cheeks, and then he couldn't help it. He let out the grin threatening his mouth and said, "And you call yourself a doctor!"

A nervous squeak of laughter escaped from her, startling her. She didn't know yet one could have fun and laugh while making love. He wanted to teach her that also.

"No, you looby, I know the mechanics, but I do not know how we get from here"--she pointed at the deck--"to there." She pointed at his bunk. Her adorable look of uncertainty made him lean down and kiss her on the tip of her nose.

"There is no right or wrong way, Charley. Will you trust me to lead you tonight?"

She nodded without speaking and he went back to undoing her clothes. It was a novelty, undressing someone wearing men's attire, because there was no hesitation in his hands. Unlike women's clothing he knew exactly where every fastening and button was, and it made the process much smoother than it otherwise might have been.

"Stop."

David paused, his hands tightening on her lapels. If she started to head for the door, he could not be responsible for his actions.

But all Charley did was slide her hands up the front of his shirt and say, "I want to do this also."

"If you insist, Doctor. But don't take long. I am anxious to see this nakedness I was promised."

He suspected it was her nerves that prompted her request, but he was willing to go along with it, for now. He put his hands on her hips beneath her coat, stroking up and down, feeling her through the thin layer of her trousers and marveling anew that the soft curves beneath his hand had never been obvious to his eyes.

Before the night was through he promised himself he would uncover all of the good doctor's secrets.

Charley knew her acquiescence surprised David Fletcher.

She'd surprised herself.

Being here in his cabin, again, facing him across a chessboard, it had been hard to concentrate on the game and not think instead about her opponent, the man who held her life in his hand like he held a rook.

Captain Fletcher was in his shirtsleeves as they sparred across the chessboard, the collar open at his neck and she could see his pulse, speeding up as the night lengthened and the tension rose. His dark head was bent in concentration, and even at rest he nearly vibrated with energy and life.

He wanted her. It was evident, even to someone as inexperienced as she was, in the way he watched her and moved around her. And she wanted him tonight every bit as much as she ever had. More so. For now that she knew he wanted her as a woman, she refused to moralize or analyze or ask herself if it was simply the novelty or the proximity or something perverse in his makeup.

That didn't matter anymore. What mattered to her was that she had an opportunity to experience the passion of giving herself to Davy Fletcher, an opportunity she might never have again. Not if she was going to spend the rest of her life as Dr. Charles Alcott.

He was looking at her now in a fashion no man had ever looked at her before. Like she was worth looking at. Like there was no woman he'd rather be looking at. Like she was the only woman in the world. Tomorrow her sanity would return, but tonight belonged to her.

Now, standing with him next to the bunk that drew her like a lighthouse in the dark, Charley reached up with hands that were almost steady to undo David's buttons. Her efforts were hampered by his hands on her, stroking her, making her arch beneath his touch like Pirate the cat. She wanted to twine herself around his legs and purr, and a smile gleamed in his eyes as he seemed to divine her thoughts.

She lowered her eyes, and her head. His muscles tensed beneath her hands when she parted his shirt and leaned forward to kiss him on that sculpted chest, and he made a noise in his throat and tightened his grip on her hips. His hands were so strong and hard that they could bruise, but her body responded with a flair of heat she felt radiating out from her belly, engulfing her in new sensations as he flexed his fingers against her.

"Charley--" he rasped. "Let me--"

He couldn't finish speaking but began pulling her clothes off and tossing them to the deck, his hands and mouth roaming over her as he tugged at the fabric. When he got to the bindings around her breasts he grabbed handfuls of cloth, ripping them off with a sound that was loud in the small space, but before Charley could react to this her world tilted as David picked her up and carried her the few steps to his bunk.

When he was done undressing her they were both breathing hard. David loomed above her, braced on his arms, his hair falling across his forehead and veiling his eyes. Charley wanted to tell him to turn down the lamp so he wouldn't see her inadequacies, but she didn't have a chance to say anything because he was kissing her, his hands roaming over her and she could feel the soft linen of his shirt against her skin, his hand between their bodies fumbling at the buttons on his trousers and kicking them off.

"Wait," she whispered, and for a moment thought he wouldn't listen to her plea, but then he paused. His face was drawn with tension, and Charley pushed herself up and placed her hand on his cheek.

"I want to see all of you, David. I get to have nakedness also," she finished, which brought a gleam to his eye. He sat back on his haunches and slowly, achingly slowly, pulled his shirt over his head, not taking his eyes from hers until the cloth covered his face, and when he was finished, he threw it on the deck with a flourish, his dimples carving hollows into his cheeks.

"Well, Charley? Are you pleased with what you see?"

He was vain, her captain, but he was entitled, she thought with a sigh as she studied him, all golden and glowing in the lamplight.

Charley pushed herself up on one hand, the other reaching up to stroke across his chest, down to the abdomen where the muscles stood out in sharp relief. His skin was like marble, fine-grained and smooth where no scars marred it, but marble that had been sun-kissed and warmed by the blood beating hard beneath the surface.

"Handsome Davy," she whispered, which made him smile again, but the smile disappeared as she brought her hand behind his head and threaded it through his soft hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

He braced his arms alongside her and let her take the lead, exploring his mouth, learning, experiencing, and when her other arm came up to wrap around his shoulders and cling to him, he lowered himself atop her with a groan. He was hard, and hot, and he throbbed against her. She shifted her hips, longing for more, and he froze.

"Charley! Do not move!" he gasped.

She wondered what she'd done wrong.

"Darling doctor, if you move this will be over far too quickly." He gave her a swift, hard kiss. "I have wanted this for so long, but you need to be ready."

She understood what he meant, that if her body was relaxed and wet that it would help his entry, but she didn't know how to make that happen.

Fortunately, he did.

David leaned down and rasped his tongue across her breast, already sensitive from being bound and restricted. The sensation was like nothing else she'd ever experienced, and she wanted more.

"Do that again!"

He obliged her, and gave equal due to her other breast, fondling and suckling on parts of her that up until now had only been a hindrance, making her appreciate her body in an entirely new manner. He plucked at her nipples, standing up pert and erect, and when he blew lightly across them she shivered with heat and with cold.

She wanted to do something for him, but all she could do was clutch him, afraid that if she let go he might disappear and these sensations would end.

His hand moved between her legs to test the waters. Charley couldn't hold back her cry as her back arched and she rose up against him when he glided his fingers along her, circling the nub that poked out in anticipation, then slipping a finger inside her.

"So wet," he murmured. "You have the mechanics down pat, Charley. Now, let me..." His raspy voice trailed off as he fit himself to her and began easing himself in.

Charley knew her anatomy, knew they would fit, but it was hard to convince herself of it as she struggled to relax and loosen herself to ease his passage. After the sharp pinch of his initial entry there was no more pain, but there was a fullness that was nearly unbearable. When he was all the way in, when she could feel every hard inch of him inside her body, she blinked and whispered up at him, "This is the most amazing..." and her voice trailed off because David was braced above her on his arms.

He looked like he was in an extraordinary amount of pain, sweat standing out on his brow and trickling down his chest.

She shifted her hips up to try and make him more comfortable, but it seemed to have the opposite effect as his face grew tenser.

"No, don't move, Charl--hell!" and then he began to move.

If the experience up until this point was amazing, it now climbed into the realm of the transcendent. Her body, the flesh that up until now had been an obstacle to overcome, came alive, and she felt nerve endings fire and muscles clench and all her senses were swamped. The glide of sweat slicked skin against the skin of the other, the touch of his arms braced alongside her shoulders, the sounds of his murmured encouragement, the musky fragrance of their heated bodies, the sight of him above her, straining his muscles in a symphony of movement, and the taste of his salt when she leaned up to lick his corded neck.

He began to move faster and she hitched her hips higher to wrap her legs around his waist and relieve the pressure building inside her, growing with each of his thrusts. She indeed knew the mechanics, but she could not know the reality, the fire that engulfed her, that brought to life sensations she'd never known, could never know through studies but only through this, the touch and stroke of the man who held her now and worked her body in rhythm with his. She cried out as the sensations became too much for her, exploding outward from her belly, from her heart, from her soul. A minute later he stiffened above her and she felt the warmth increase as he emptied himself into her with a sigh.

David relaxed atop her, breathing heavily, letting his weight rest on her for a heavenly moment before easing himself out of her and propping himself up on one arm.

"Are you well?"

She looked at him, struggling to catch her breath as he looked down at her with concern. Was she well? Did he not know she would never be the same again? That this experience had changed forever what she thought about herself? How could she now contemplate an asexual future only practicing medicine when she had this new knowledge to savor?

But she would have to think about that later. Right now she had Davy Fletcher in her arms and that was good enough for the moment.

"Charley?"

"I know the Greek and Latin names for all the parts of the body, and for the acts we just performed. And I knew nothing, nothing about the reality of it. Until now. Now I understand that knowledge is not the same as knowing. That was incredible, amazing...could you possibly try to look less pleased with yourself?"

"I don't know why I should," he said smugly, relaxing his body against hers. "When you're the best around it is hard to remain humble."

She giggled, then put her hand over her mouth.

"It's all right," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Here you can be yourself, Charlotte, and not act the man."

She sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring his gentle touch. Then her eyes opened and she faced reality, even as she brought her own hand up to run her fingers across his jaw, memorizing the feel of him to remember later.

Because there would be a later, and it would be an empty time, without David Fletcher at her side.

"It is not a prudent thing to do, Captain, being Charlotte. I maintain myself best by always trying to be Charles Alcott."

"Well, I for one am glad to have Charlotte and not Charles in my bunk!"

Charley looked down at the coverlet David had flung over them and smoothed out a wrinkle as he propped his head on his arm, watching her. The bunk was not large enough for two, but she wouldn't have moved from that spot for ten thousand American dollars.

"I was beginning to think that we were dealing quite well together, Captain, when you believed I was Charles."

"Not like this. Never like this. Do not fool yourself! You have no idea how many nights I tossed and turned in agony in this bunk over my attraction to you," he said harshly. "You have no idea what that feels like for a man, to question who he is at his core. To wonder if everything he's ever known about himself is wrong."

"Would it have mattered so much if I was who you desired? I was always only...Charley."

"That kind of desire gets men hanged, Doctor, and brings disgrace to their families." He looked at her, then looked down at her hand nervously plucking at the linens and covered it with his own.