To Murder Matt (8 page)

“Are you cold, my dear?” He moved towards her and she leant away from him, then she stood up and started to walk across the room. He followed her, his heart thumping loudly. He could see she was about to say something, even though her back was turned towards him. He didn’t want her to spoil the moment. She turned around and he saw surprise on her face before it turned to momentary fear. He watched her control her emotions. She stepped backwards as though he was standing too close, which he realized he was, and so he took a step back and he saw her relax.

“When do the others get here?”

“Anytime,” he lied. I have given them the time, but they may be late.”

“Oh.”

“No worry, we shall have to wait until they arrive.”

She crossed the room and sat down again. He moved towards her and sat by her side as he had done before. He wanted to lean across, take her in his arms and smother her with kisses; to kiss along the length of her neck, to hear her moan with pleasure with each touch of his lips upon her skin.

He looked down at his glass solely to have something to do. Looking at her was driving him crazy. The softness of the dress material that outlined every curve of her body, called for him to caress her. Her nipples begged for him to tenderly nibble at them. Her lips were made in heaven, just for him to kiss.

“Oh forgive me,” he suddenly said. “Would you like a canapé whilst we wait?” He gestured to the small table with the tray of delicious looking canapés.  Veronique looked at the selection, suddenly realizing there were too few, for a formal soiree.

“Captain, how many are coming this evening?”

“Only a couple.”  He said noticing the suspicion on her face. “I didn’t want too many people here; in fact the other two are old family friends.”

“Is this a social evening?”

“Well, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought this was work related. If this is informal, then it is not part of my duties on board.”

“I wanted you to come this evening,” he said gently.

“Did you not think to just ask me?” He refilled her glass as she spoke.

“I thought about it, but I knew that if it were social you would most likely say no. Would you have come?”

“Of course not!”

“Well then, how am I supposed to ask you for a social evening then?”

“Lying is not the way.” She stood up to leave suddenly, causing the contents of her wine glass to spill down her front.

“No please.” He grabbed her arm. “Now you are here, surely you can stay a while. I won’t do this again, I won’t lie.” He released her arm and she shook her head.

“No, my dress is ruined. I can’t stay now.”

Nico looked at the red wine stain, which was spreading across and down the front of her dress. The wet patch had stuck to her skin, making the dress appear transparent; her breasts were beautifully outlined by the material. Thinking quickly, Nico said

“Okay, but you can’t leave now. You should wait until your dress is dry. Sit here and I will get you a robe to put on.” He turned and went into his bedroom, and returned moment later with a robe in his hand; the memory of her breasts was seared into his mind. If he didn’t distance himself from her soon, he would have to have her in his arms and ravage her. She was sat in the seat drying her dress. She had pulled the wet material off her skin, and this exposed her perfect orbs even more, from his standing position. He held out the white toweling robe for her.

“If you remove your dress it will dry quicker. My bathroom is over there. You can change there, or in my bedroom.” He looked away, and nonchalantly went to have a canapé to appear disinterested, whilst she decided. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her walk towards his bedroom. He smiled, the thought of her naked under his bathrobe was tantalizing. She couldn’t leave whilst she was wearing his robe, and neither could she, whilst her dress was wet. If he could delay the drying of her dress she would have to stay longer, and he would have more time to try and charm her, relax her and tell her that he loved her.  When she came out of his bedroom wearing the robe, she had such style and class, that it could have easily been a white fur she was wearing as his toweling bathrobe. As she sat down, and crossed her legs, he caught a glimpse of her bronzed thigh. She caught him looking and quickly pulled the sides of the robe together.

“Would you like another drink whilst we wait for your dress to dry?”

She nodded and so he poured her another glass of wine. He sat further along the sofa, further away from her, so as not to worry her. Looking at her, he thought his heart would explode with love. He would explode if he didn’t tell her tonight.

“Oh I had better cancel my friends. We don’t want them arriving now. It would be most embarrassing.” He crossed to the phone on his desk and began to press in the numbers. One finger held the connection down so it looked as though he was actually calling someone.

“Yassoo Aris, I am sorry, I have to cancel this evening. I am needed on the bridge,” he paused for effect, “Yes, yes, another time. Thank you, and sorry again.”

He replaced the receiver and turned towards her.

“Well, we must talk about something as you are here, and while we wait...you’ve hardly said anything this evening. Tell me about yourself.” He smiled disarmingly.

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

“Why not? Surely, you have a lot of experiences; after all, you are so well travelled. What about before you joined my ship?”

“One ship is much like another.”

“Okay, what about your family?”

“My mother remarried when I was little. She left. I haven’t seen her since.”

“Who brought you up?”

“My brother.” She gulped her wine. “He must have been a bit older than you.”

“Yes, ten years.” She sipped her wine again and his eyes narrowed when he saw her trembling hand. He poured her another glass of wine.

“Where is he now?”

“Nice, in France.”

“So that is why you were upset at the delay, you wanted to see him again. Now I understand. I thought you had a boyfriend there.” He noted that she flinched at his words. “Here have some more.” He held out the bottle and she drained her glass so that he could refill it again.

“No I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t want one either.” She drank her wine and a small section missed her mouth and dribbled to her chin. Her hand came up automatically and wiped the wine away. She giggled for a moment and then smiled drunkenly at him. Nico was taken back by the sudden change in her personality. One minute hostile, cold and then, the next, she was relaxed, smiling and occasionally giggling. Her robe fell apart slightly and he couldn’t help but look at the exposed skin. Her hair fell in silky strands and he reached forward to move the hair aside. Their eyes met and time seemed to stop. His heart was beating so loudly that he thought it would burst forward, and come right out through his chest. Her eyes were just staring at him, glazed and glassy without feeling. He felt momentarily ashamed of himself; ashamed at the lengths he would go to, to get her. He shrugged off the thought and leant forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. He could taste the wine. She giggled and pulled back, and as she did so, he leant forward and kissed her fully on the mouth. She leant backwards and he followed her with his lips and body. He could feel her breath on his face and he kissed her with more intensity. His eyes were wide open, watching her, as she had closed hers. This wasn’t meant to be happening. As much as he wanted her, he wanted her to know it was him, to choose him. If he took her this way, he could be anybody. He took her upper arms and pushed himself back and looked at her intently. Her hair was flowing over her shoulders and down on to her bronzed body. Her robe was open, giving him a full view of the delights previously hidden within. He felt his dick jump in his trousers, and he held back a groan of desire. She smiled at him, and then her head lolled to one side, and she grinned to herself. The gentleman in his heart was fading fast, and replacing him was the devil, the man who had spent years lusting after her, and the man who, despite everything, loved her from afar.

Unable to control himself any longer, he leant forward and kissed her once more. Her lips were warm and tender, the strength and passion growing. He could feel the desire welling up inside him. He wanted to tear her robe off her and take her, right there and then, to feel himself plunging into her hot depths, her pussy like a warm velvet glove yielding to him until he came deep and hard, but he stopped kissing her, pulled away, knowing that if he didn’t stop then, he never would.

She laughed again, lost in her own world. A drunken laugh that pulled at his heart strings escaped her. She needed him, she needed protecting, and he could feel it. He stood up and crossed the room, and helped himself to another drink. When he turned back towards her, she was sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning forwards, her hands were holding on to the edge of the seat and her hair had fallen forwards. He wanted to cross the room, kiss her, caress her, touch all the softness that her now exposed body offered him. His eyes flashed hungrily as he walked back towards her. She looked up and smiled at him, inviting him, her eyes full of drunken mischief. He didn’t know what to do and so he picked her up and carried her through to his bedroom.

Hours later, he still watched her, she had slept almost the instant he had lain her down and since then, he had been watching her childlike innocence; her trust in him, her natural ethereal beauty in the soft lighting. He had been transfixed by her breasts, rising and falling, as she breathed, and he had lain next to her, wanting to feel her close to him. Her perfumed, naked body, wanting her, aching for her, yearning for her. As the dawn broke, he couldn’t stand it any longer and he left her side and went to sleep on his sofa in his living room. 

When he returned to her side, she was still sleeping peacefully. He crept in and was surprised when she turned over to nuzzle into him, her arm draping across his chest. Her hand stroked him and twirled in his chest hairs. He felt his body instantly reacting to her touch, and the desire mounting in his groin. He had such desire for her; he kissed her lightly and was pleased to feel the kiss being returned. He moved towards her and lightly stroked her skin, feeling the feminine softness under his fingertips. His penis twitched as he encountered her soft and trimmed pubic hairs, the landing strip of a Brazilian wax. He started to caress her clit, slowly moving his fingers in a circular motion. She moaned and her legs opened, allowing his hand to enter the warmth between her thighs. He was so eager to be inside her that he denied himself his normal pleasures of foreplay, as he positioned himself between her thighs. The tip of his penis throbbed so much, that he felt he could come, even without entering her. Gently he maneuvered the tip of his penis into her hot wet opening. He kissed her and tasted the wine, still on her tongue. His tongue probed into her mouth and played with hers. She moaned and moved so that he entered her fully, her eyes still closed as they kissed passionately. She pulled him to her and he began to move quicker, his thrusts becoming deeper. She began to whimper as his deep strokes quickened. His breaths came in short gasps and she held onto him and breathed heavily. Small beads of perspiration were forming on her temples. Nico began to grunt.

“I’m coming, my love, I’m coming.” He groaned as he started to come inside her.

“No, no. You are my brother,” Veronique said in her semi-sleep. Nico felt himself go soft, the passion instantly killed by her words.
‘You are my brother,’
repeated itself in his mind over and over again. It was an accusation; she had thought he was her brother. ‘
Why would she think that?’
He watched her breathing as she slept again, and he withdrew from her and left her lying on the bed. Nico could not sleep now even if he tried. He had some thinking to do, and it wouldn’t be easy.

In the morning, he arose without waking her. He kissed her gently, stroked the hair from her eyes and started to put on his dressing gown. He was writing at his desk when he heard her stir and walk through. He turned, and was surprised to find her standing naked in the doorway. She was looking for her dress, which he had hung on the door of the wardrobe. The silky softness still held traces of her perfume and a few stains from the spilt wine. She was unaware that he had caressed the dress and felt it in his hands the night before, when he so wanted to be near her, any part of her. She blushed a deep scarlet when she felt his gaze on her, her mind suddenly realizing what had happened between them.  Without a second thought, she then lunged across the room and raked her deep red nails down the side of his face, arcing her fingers so that she could draw blood. Nico grabbed her wrists and held her away, his anger rising. He felt blood trickling down the side of his face. Anger mixed with desire clouded his judgment as he held her at arms length, her naked and recently loved body glorious before him. Her musky perfume, mixed with his scent arousing him further. He felt the need to kiss her, bring her close to him, envelope her, absorb her into him. He wanted to kiss the life from her with such a force that nothing could stop them merging. He stopped suddenly. He had never taken a woman against her will. Pushing her against the softness of the sofa with the same attention he would give to swatting a fly, he raged, pacing the floor whilst he spoke in a hiss.

“You idiot!  Nothing happened last night that you didn’t want. I have never ever, in my life, raped a woman. I never will,” he said angrily.

She pulled her arm across her breasts protectively, her eyes showing betrayal and hatred towards him. He turned and went into the bathroom to check his cheek and to bathe the blood from the scratches.

Throughout the morning, Nico fumed. He was in turmoil. He had never lost control of a situation before. No woman had ever had a reason to attack him before, nor had they, and no woman had proved so vexing and difficult before. Other women would vie for his attention when they met him. They loved his uniform, his looks and charm had served him well over the years. He couldn’t understand why she was so different. One thing he was sure of though, was the need to meet her family, which would give him further insight into her behavior. He didn’t think it was just him, or that she didn’t like him; on the contrary. He could feel it. There was an animal magnetism between them that drew them together. They were like wolves; wolves circling each other, each waiting for the other to reveal their move. They saw themselves reflected in each other’s eyes. They were kindred spirits. Well, now he had made a move. Something was stopping her from loving anybody. If she were free of whatever that was, then maybe, just maybe, she would be his. Leaving the bridge the moment they docked, he walked briskly to the disembarkation deck.