Below Deck Ch. 04

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It’s shortly after ten in the morning and I’m demonstrating to Willa the proper way to iron creases on the crew’s uniforms.

“Lucca Lucca, James James, Bobby Bobby, Captain,” blares over our radios, making me jump.

We all carried a radio on our hip which ensured speedy communication at any given time. Because that there was only one channel, anyone could hear the call even if it wasn’t meant for them. For that reason, it was customary on yachts to repeat the name of the person or persons you were calling twice, followed lastly by the single name of the person doing the speaking.

After a brief pause, “Please come to the Bridge for a preference sheet meeting.”

“Copy,” I say and hear and an additional two ‘copy’s’ from Bobby and James.

I remain in the laundry room for a few minutes to make sure that Willa has a good grasp of how to finish the uniforms before heading up the stairwell.

The Bridge door is open, and I see the three of them already seated around the table as I pull the door shut behind me.

“So nice of you to join us, Lucca,” Kathryn states sarcastically. Her stare is icy, and I feel my blood run cold as I curse myself for not leaving Willa sooner.

I move to the only available chair directly across from her. All three of them are holding a copy of the guests’ preference sheet, with my copy laying in the empty spot in wait.

“Now that our Chief Steward has graced us with her presence, we can discuss this upcoming charter,” she says as she looks at the boys, then resting her gaze briefly on me again before moving it down to survey the paper in front of her.

“Charter number one. So, as you all know by now – the morning before each new charter, the head of the interior, the head of the exterior, the chef, and myself will meet up here to discuss the new guests that are coming on board. We’ll learn a bit about them through the preference sheet that they’ve provided to us ahead of time; Their likes, dislikes, wishes and must-haves – anything we can absorb to make each and every charter a dream vacation for them is paramount.”

We nod in unison. Kathryn’s take-charge, professional attitude was so… for lack of a better word… hot.

This time, however, I stop myself before my thoughts escalate as I have no intention of getting in any more trouble than I already was in.

She turns to look at Bobby. “As soon as we anchor, I want all the water toys out. Right before we move locations, you’ll have your team load them back on board, but — anytime we’re anchored, I want everything out and set up again. The guests should never have to ask. The toys should always be ready to go. No exceptions.”

“Okay, sure,” he responds.

Now she looks at James. “And I see that the primary guest doesn’t have any dietary restrictions, but his wife is a vegetarian and one of their friends is gluten-free. I imagine it’s going to be a bit of a challenge to please everyone, but I have faith you’ll be up to the challenge, eh?”

“Doesn’t faze me at all,” he replies coolly. “I’ll have multiple versions of my meals for everyone so that no one will feel like they’re missing out.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

My turn.

The butterflies are back. Just like – when you’re out dining with people and everyone’s going around the table placing their order, and you’re last – it’s that brief inexplicable anxiety when it’s your turn. Or was this something more?

“The guests have mentioned they’d like a beach picnic, so Lucca, make sure your stews follow the packing list to a ‘T’ so that nothing is forgotten. They also mention they’d like a theme night for dinner service one night… any ideas?”

I look up from the paper in my hands at her question and dreamily get lost in her large, almond-shaped brown eyes. She gazes back, unblinking, and for a moment it feels like we’re the only ones in the room. Kathryn is just so impossibly beautiful. Impossibly refined. Impossibly –

“Lucca?” her voice snaps me out of it.

“Yes,” I hear myself answer, even though I know it’s not the right one.

She waits for me to elaborate.

“I, uh… I saw some masquerade masks in the decoration closet. I think the guests would have a ball if we did a masquerade party for them,” I try to recover. “I can even have the girls wear them, too, while serving. Guests always seem to appreciate it when the crew gets into it as well.”

“I like it. And if there’s anything you’re lacking in the way of table décor or similar, don’t be afraid to call our provisioner and have it delivered. There is no such thing as too ‘over the top’ at this level,” she brushes my near-flub off.

“Of course. Will do.”

“Then let’s get to it,” she states as she stands up and heads to the door. We follow her lead as she holds it open for us. James and Bobby file through, and as I approach, she pulls the door shut again.

The abruptness startles me as I just stand there in front of the now-closed door. She leans against it as she says, “You seem japon porno distracted today.” Her observation makes my heartbeat speed up.

“No, no, I just… I think I’m just tired today,” I lie.

“I see.”

I’d never met anyone with a catchphrase before but was starting to realize that this most certainly must be hers.

I shift where I’m standing as her eyes continue to bore into my soul.

“Well, if that’s all it is, then, I’ll let you get on with your day,” as she moves off the door and opens it for me.

I glance back at her as I pass through the doorway. This time, a small smile is playing across her lips with a… is that a hint of smugness? There was no mistaking it. It almost felt like she knew how flustered she was making me and revelled in it.

I brush my mounting arousal off as I get my head back into everything that still needed to be done in the short hour before the guests arrived.

The next few days are a blur as I fall into my charter routine — deliver Kathryn her breakfast, hand out tasks to the stews, check their work. Oh, and the serving. So much serving: Breakfast, lunch, afternoon snacks, dinner. Trying to get a break in myself to grab a bite to eat was almost impossible and after the fourth day of fifteen-hour days, I couldn’t be happier to wave farewell to the guests as they disembarked at noon.

The crews’ energy noticeably picks back up as they all scramble to get the boat turned around. Because tomorrow was a day off before the next charter began the following day, the sooner we finished meant the more time we had for some well-deserved relaxation.

Quinn and Willa are on their last cleanup task of the afternoon as I decide that I’m finished for the day. I head to my cabin, turn off my radio, and head into the bathroom to shower.

Afterwards, I casually walk around my room with my towel wrapped around me as I pick out a sundress to go catch some sun on the upper deck in.

Out of a nowhere, there’s a pounding on my door.

“Yep?” I shout, still engrossed in choosing my outfit.

I hear the door swing open and shut. I spin around, about to be pissed off at whoever entered without permission.

It’s Kathryn. I freeze.

It’s like seeing a fish out of water. Or… that first time you see your teacher at the grocery store. So out of place.

My shock turns to terror as I process the look of sheer anger on her face.

“Why aren’t you answering me.” More of a statement than a question.

“Um… what?” is all I can ask, confused.

“Your radio. I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes straight.” Her voice is louder than I’ve ever heard it. Not yelling — but definitely raised and definitely furious.

“Oh. I — well, I was taking a shower. We’re basically finished for the day,” I stammer.

She spots my radio on the dresser, walks over to it and picks it up.

“It’s not even on,” she discovers, now visibly more aggravated.

“Like I said — we’re done for the day. I thought we could turn off our radios once we were off charter…?”

Kathryn strides across the room now until she is inches from me.

“Not you. You’re the Chief Stew. I may need something from you, like I did ten minutes ago. I’ve just been informed that the new guests’ arrival has been pushed up by six hours the day after tomorrow. That means that the provisions delivery will have to be moved up. And what day is tomorrow, Lucca?”

“Sunday,” I respond meekly.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she confirms. “If I didn’t get ahold of you before provisions closed for the day today, that means come Monday when the guests arrive at 8am instead of 3pm, they’ll

be arriving with no food on board. And there goes our reputation — yours, mine, the yacht’s, the yacht owner’s. Everyone’s.”

She now hands me my radio. “Turn. Your radio. Back on.” Her voice is much quieter now but the tone of it still cuts right through me.

I do as instructed and stand there helplessly. I so badly want to apologize but can’t seem to find the words.

Her next words are almost a whisper, and I’m forced to lean in just to hear them.

“I would really hate for you to disappoint me, Lucca.”

I feel my heart in my throat now. “That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do, Captain,” I manage to squeak out.

And it was true. At this moment I truly feel like there was no one I had ever wanted to disappoint less than this woman. My chest suddenly feels tight, and my breathing feels constricted.

Kathryn is still glaring back at me, her jaw clenched.

However, the fast-paced rising and falling of my chest seems to distract her as she lowers her eyes. Her face softens now as she appears to notice, for the first time, that I’d only been standing there in a towel.

I see her lips part and her own breath quicken as she takes in the sight of me. When her eyes meet mine again, her pupils are dilated, and her breath is slightly more ragged.

Without warning, she kızlık bozma porno spins around. I hear, “Get it sorted,” before she flings the door open and disappears down the hallway.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thirty minutes of back-and-forth calls with the provisioner and two hours of sunbathing later, I head inside, suddenly completely parched. My abrupt thirstiness doesn’t feel like it’s due to baking in the sun, though. No — this feels like that specific brand of fear-induced dehydration.

After taking some time to calm myself out on deck, it dawned on me that I hadn’t actually feared Kathryn — if not a bit intimidated — but rather, terrified of having let her down. I had never experienced such an intense desire to please someone as I felt with her; My little fuck up this afternoon only confirmed that. And although my fierce yearning to please this woman had taken me by surprise at first, I was now growing accustomed to it. I even liked it. It was all I wanted to do.

After downing what felt like an entire bottle of water, I head to my cabin to change. I embrace the stillness of the boat as I make my way through it. Wonder what time they left, I think to

myself, referencing the crew having gone out for dinner and drinks. I had been invited, of course, but in all honesty – I just wasn’t in the mood for their shenanigans.

I chuck off my sundress and throw on my UC Santa Barbara hoodie and matching sweatpants. I also remove the ponytail holder in my hair and give my scalp a vigorous shake. So much better.

My stomach growls as I head down the hallway. I make my way into the galley and start rustling around for something to eat. I settle on leftover pasta salad from lunch and take a seat at the table. Looking around, I relish in having what feels like the entire boat to myself. This thought instantly brings my mind back to Kathryn, and I wonder what she’s doing just now. Probably eating in the Bridge. I swear she never leaves that place. Well, except to storm my cabin and reprimand me, of course.

The urge to be in her presence again overtakes me. Should I head up there to see if there’s anything I might bring her? I mull it over but decide against it.

I clear the table and begin loading the dishwasher as I see a figure looming in the doorway from the corner of my eye.

It’s Kathryn. Her thick, dark locks are down again for the first time since that dinner out, with her tall frame dressed in a dark purple button-up and tight jeans. This must be what she considers ‘lounging’ clothing, I scoff silently.

“Well, if it isn’t my Chief Stew.” She pauses as her eyes settle on my own outfit. “And don’t we look cozy tonight.” She’s sporting a smirk now.

“I didn’t think there was any point in dressing up for no one,” I respond sarcastically.

“So, I’m no one, now?” She jests before continuing. “Actually, I thought I had the boat to myself tonight. I figured you’d have gone to dinner with the rest of the crew…”

“To be honest, I didn’t feel like babysitting a bunch of drunk colleagues, so I opted to stay in.”

“I see.”

Her gaze is penetrating again, as if uncertain of what to say next.

“In that case, how about a drink with your captain in the Bridge, then,” more of a statement than a question again.

I should have known that ‘uncertainty’ wasn’t a word to describe this woman.

“I think I’m up for that,” I reply cautiously, mentally noting that it was like our little incident this afternoon never happened.

Kathryn says nothing as she leads the way up to the Bridge and opens the door. I follow her in.

She heads out of sight around the corner for a minute before coming back with two glasses and a bottle of red wine.

“Now this. This is what you should be drinking, my dear,” she says as she pours me a glass. “Corcia Morey Saint Denis,” she states matter of factly in a perfect French accent.

“You speak French, now?” At this point, nothing about this woman surprises me.

“I’m Canadian,” she replies with a smirk.

She goes on. “It offers mouth-filling generosity, and its rounded tannins are meant to linger without flinching.”

No idea what she was talking about but as a Chief Steward I figured I had ought to pretend. I take a sip and stand in the middle of the room.

“Nutty,” I confirm, recalling one of the few words I had heard used to describe wine.

She leans back against the table, arms crossed as she watches me.

“I think we may have to sign you up for a sommelier course while we’re in France,” she laughs as I shrug.

Kathryn gestures towards the captain’s chair. “Take a seat.”

“But that’s the captain’s chair,” I emphasize. “That’s yours.”

“You’re right, it absolutely is. But right now, I’m letting you sit in it.”

I could sense that this was probably supposed to be an honor and decide it was best not to protest.

I plop down and sink back as the chair envelops my body. Man was köylü porno this thing comfortable. No wonder she spends all her time up here. I kick off the ground and spin around a couple of times.

With every pass by Kathryn, I see the amusement grow on her face. “Enjoying yourself?”

I put my foot down and the chair stops in its tracks. I feel a bit childish now.

She slowly walks over to me, resting her left arm on the top of the chair. I take another sip in an effort to conceal my sudden nervousness.

She peers down at me. “You look cute in my chair. Almost like a little girl playing grown-up in her daddy’s big office chair.”

I feel the wine starting to take effect and get a little bolder now as I look up at her. “I bet you say that to all the Chief Stews,” I half-joke.

“It would have been fairly illogical to say that to another Chief Stew considering that I’ve never let one sit in my chair before.”

Her remark gives me butterflies and I bask for a moment in the special feeling that overtakes me.

I don’t let the feeling linger for long before focusing my attention on the vast spread of controls in front of me. “How could you ever possibly learn what all of these do?!”

“Maybe I’ll show you what they do sometime,” is all she answers as she walks back over to the table and tops off her glass. Taking another sip, she sets the glass down and faces me again, leaning once more on the edge of the table.

“So, tell me more about your little ex-girlfriend. Who wore the pants in that relationship?”

Whether Kathryn had unfortunate or deliberate timing remained to be seen, but as she asked the question while I was taking another sip of wine, I couldn’t help but choke a little.

“The pants?” I manage to get out, even though I knew exactly what she was referring to.

“Despite your position of authority in your career, you just strike me as it not being you. Am I correct in my observation?”

I will myself not to answer her question, but I feel my body betray me as I nod.

She pushes herself off of the table as if she’s going to take a step forward, but then repositions herself back against it.

Kathryn continues to look at me, searching my face. For what — I didn’t know. I return her gaze earnestly before realizing: What I’m witnessing is hesitancy. For the first time since I’d known her, it was as if she was wrestling with herself on her next move.

Finally, it appears that a decision has been made. She makes her way to me across the room and bends down so that we’re at eye level, supporting herself with a hand on either armrest. This power stance makes me gasp out loud and before I know it, she’s bringing her lips to mine.

I hear myself moan lightly as I feel the softness of her lips for the first time. I had been imagining those lips against mine for days but didn’t think what was happening now would ever come to fruition.

She gently parts my lips with her tongue and brushes it against mine as we explore one another’s mouths for a few moments before she pulls away.

Kathryn stands up and takes a few steps backwards, leaning against the control panel. Her normally dark eyes are even darker now as she observes me from her new position.

“Come to me,” she purrs as she holds her arms open.

Her command puts me in some kind of trance as I feel myself rise and fall into her arms. She kisses me again softly. I feel her hands teasing the bottom of my hoodie before breaking our kiss and pulling it up over my head, tossing it onto the floor.

She now holds me at arm’s length from her body as she states, “I want to look at you.”

Normally, standing there in my bra in front of an almost complete stranger would make me feel exposed and uncomfortable, but somehow, I feel at ease as her eyes take in my newly exposed chest.

She brings her fingers up and traces the lace along my bra cup. “You’re exactly as I had envisioned.”

She pulls me back into her and kisses me for a third time, this time with a passion that makes me lose my breath for a moment; I’m not really sure whether it’s the ferocity of the kiss, or the confession that Kathryn had been imagining me without my shirt on that takes my breath away. But in this moment, I couldn’t care less what the reason was.

I feel her reach around and unhook my bra and it springs free. She pulls away from my lips and looks into my eyes, questioningly, as if silently seeking consent. I respond to her advance by pulling my bra off and letting it fall to the ground.

Satisfied, she lowers her face to one of my exposed nipples and gently sucks the bud into her mouth. Her warm tongue swirls around it as a moan, this time louder than before, escapes my lips. After a minute, she repeats the motion on my other breast. These sensations alone make my knees weak, and I’m forced to grip onto her shoulders tightly as I steady myself.

As if aware that I might collapse, she guides me backwards until I fall into the captain’s chair. She backs up again, resuming her stance against the control panel and crossing her arms.

“Take your pants and panties off for me, Lucca.” Her voice in hypnotic.

I do as she says. I’m beginning to realize that there’s nothing this woman couldn’t tell me to do that I wouldn’t do for her.

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