Saturday, October 1, 2011
Depth Charge: Maria, Maria
"sex underwater has never been this explosive..."
(( warning: adult only content ))
From the second they surfaced, they’d been separated with different tasks. She hadn’t even been able to say good-bye or see you later. Her body was on fire from the yearning. She giggled to herself as she made her way down the deck, recalling how his jaw had practically dropped off its hinges when she’d made the first move. It was deliciously cute.
She rounded the starboard crew quarters and heard his voice.
“Christ, Jack. She’s not all that.”
There was only one “she” on board. She froze, secreting herself behind a life raft. What was he talking to Jack about?
“Have you gone blind, Chambers? That Rodriguez is a prime, Grade A, top-of-the-line piece of ass.”
“You’ve been at sea too long.”
“Come on, admit it. You can’t have been down there that long and not taken a shot at her.”
“She’s just a diver.”
“A goddamned smoking-hot diver!”
“Like I said, she’s not all that,” Steve replied icily. His tone tore at her heart, and she clutched her chest, afraid it might burst open.
“Tell me you wouldn’t bang her.” Jack cackled, clearly amused by the conversation.
“I don’t know. I guess if I were hard up.”
“Hard up? You’re crazy. Just the sight of her gets me hard.”
“Damn, Chambers. If you can’t get a piece of her, none of us got a chance at all. Give us some hope.”
“Oh, I could have her if I wanted it.”
His words were like the lashing of a whip across her face. They stung deeply. Maria lifted a fist to her mouth to cut off a sob. Her throat constricted, and her chest filled with pressure around her heart, squeezing it painfully. So she’d been nothing but a fuck all along.
“That’s my boy.”
“She’s just another diver. Don’t think about her that way. Women just lead to trouble.”
Jack bellowed in laughter. Trouble? Oh, she could be trouble all right. The pain in her chest met the incoming infusion of rage, and her chest heaved, her blood boiled.
Watch the fuck out, Steve Chambers; here comes trouble.
“Well, I’d sure love to—” Jack didn’t finish his sentence as Maria rounded the corner. The old sailor shifted his beady-eyed stare her way. He practically withered under her glare. Sniffing the air, she turned her lethal gaze on Steve.
His mouth spread into a smile that slowly faded into a grimace.
“Have you seen Weaver?” she asked coldly.
“Ummm, no. I haven’t,” Steve answered, and then his eyes narrowed on her. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Steve.” She flashed him a blatantly fake smile, then resumed her arctic glare. “Weaver and I have shore leave together, and he said he’d take me out for drinks.” At least it wasn’t a lie. Weaver had asked her out, and they did have the same shore leave next week. Steve didn’t need to know she’d shot Weaver’s invitation down.
Jack’s jaw dropped open, and Steve’s face went ashen white. Every chiseled feature set firm and rigid, shrouding any emotion. Not willing to sacrifice a single ounce more of the dignity he had stolen from her, she lifted her chin and wished her eyes could shoot daggers.
“I haven’t seen him,” Steve said. His voice was gruff like sandpaper. His arms folded across his powerful chest, and his gaze was positively gruesome.
“Well, if the skipper needs me, I’ll be in my room.” She turned quickly. The tears she’d been holding back were clawing at her throat, and she refused to let him see her cry.
“Yes, Steve?” She whipped her head back, glaring at him over her shoulder.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” He looked confused, concerned. Concerned! Probably sad because he’d just lost access to the best piece of ass he’d ever have in his life, and he knew it.
She arched her upper lip, and then managed another completely obvious phony smile. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”
She turned back and walked away, wishing she weren’t barefoot and could stomp loudly. If she stayed there another second, she’d break down, and the last thing she could afford to show him now was that she cared for him. He owned a chunk of her heart, but he’d punted it away like it was a football.
She was near blind with tears by the time she got to her room. More like a closet. She yanked open the steel hatch and slammed it behind her—and just in time. The sobs came, choking her, and she curled into a ball on her cramped little bed.
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Snarxy™ 2011 Brindle Chase