Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Turbulent Journey - Ch 3

At the party, Montez scanned the deck for signs of Angel. She’d been gone for a long time now. Although it was getting late, there were still people dancing under the multi-colored lighting. They seemed reluctant to let the party die, intent on partying to the end.

Still there were other couples, some very serious couples – from various cultures and with various sexual preferences - who decided to take the festivities to another level. These couples reclined on the desk’s white lounge chairs with their bodies entwined in several sensual positions. The whole scene was like a before picture of Sodom and Gomorrah.

With the wanton mood of the evening spreading abroad the ship like a wild fire, Bobby went ahead to their room to wait for Montez, while she continued to peruse the area in search of her friend.

I see Vincent, but where is my Angel? Montez mused, spotting the handsome lawyer sitting at the open bar. She took a step towards him and stumbled. Fortunately, she saved herself from falling just in time by holding onto a nearby lounge chair.

I must have had one too many glasses of wine, she mused, feeling a bit lightheaded. Trying again, she finally made it over to him.

“Vincent, go find Angel and bring her to my room. Bobby and I are about to continue the party there.” Montez smiled seductively at the man in front of her. She stared deeply into his eyes while sensually licking her full ruby lips, hoping that he’d get her unspoken message. Her mocha face was inviting as she ran a hand through her long black tresses.

Vincent’s lustful eyes and wide smile said that he had gotten Montez’s message loud and clear. “Right.”

I knew she was feeling me. What woman ain’t? he mused brazenly as he leaned forward and licked those same ruby-colored lips of hers, taking his time to do it right. Vincent smiled when he felt Montez shiver with pleasure. Oh, yeah.

Then before he walked away, Vincent leaned close to Montez’s ear and whispered, “Don’t start the party without us.” After that, he left to go find his missing girlfriend.

When Angel slipped away earlier, Vincent had barely missed her. There were too many other fine, single women around to keep him company. But now it was time for bed and he wanted to make sure that he did what he’d come on this boat to do – sleep with the beautiful Angel Truxton. And now that Montez had added an extra twist to things, Vincent couldn’t find Angel fast enough.

I just hope we can get her to cooperate, he mused.

***

Angel leaned against the lonely white guardrail and watched the moonlight dance on the dark water below. Her long sandy hair blew in the gentle breeze, flapping upon her shoulders as if conducting an orchestra. The copper highlights of her tresses shimmered in the night lighting despite the surrounding shadows.

Angel wrapped her arms around herself. It was starting to get cold out. Now almost an hour into her hiatus, she regretted not stopping by her cabin for a sweater or at least a shawl. She rubbed her arms up and down for warmth, still not ready to go back to the cabin quite yet.

It would be just my luck to run into Vincent. Or worse, find him camped outside my door, she mused.

Just then, Angel felt something warm drape around her shoulders. It was a man’s blue jacket. She quickly turned around, expecting to see Vincent. Instead, her eyes lighted upon the most handsome man she’d even seen in her life. Oh my, Angel mused, looking upon her generous companion in the moonlight.

This stranger had deep mahogany skin that glistened with natural sheen and dark eyes that twinkled with intelligence. His attractive features exuded strength and the short haircut he wore reminded her of the ones her brother used to wear when he was in the army. Inside Angel sensed that this man was a person with many interesting stories to tell.

Perhaps he’ll tell me some of them this weekend, she mused, starting to have second thoughts about cutting her trip short.

“Thanks. I was getting a little cold.” Angel smiled and extended her hand towards him. “By the way, I’m Angel.”

Yes, you are, Jamaal mused, shaking the soft hand offered to him. The thick gold clustered ring on the third finger of his right hand sparkled brilliantly in the moonlight. No rings were on his left hand.

“And I’m Jamaal. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I was out taking a walk and saw you out here alone. Is everything okay? Or are you just not the party type like me?” Jamaal slowly released her hand and stood beside her. Are her eyes green? He couldn’t tell for sure in the dim lighting. Either way they are just as beautiful as she is, Jamaal quickly decided, feeling an urge to get to know this woman better.

“I’m not the party type and I think I may never be. Too bad I didn’t realize that sooner,” Angel said. On second thought, if I had realized it sooner, I might never have come on this cruise. Thus, I would have missed meeting this beautiful man, she added to herself.

Angel momentarily forgot that she already had a boyfriend as she admired the way the navy shirt emphasized Jamaal’s broad shoulders and muscular chest. His khaki pants bore the evidence of muscular legs.

He must work out a lot, Angel reasoned, remembering days when that was all she did, too. But those days were behind her now. She barely made it to the gym these days. And although Angel wasn’t out of shape by any means, she definitely wouldn’t mind returning her midriff to its previously toned state.

Just then, Vincent staggered up. It was obvious that he was heavily intoxicated and extremely angry by the why he walked and by the way he glared. Seeing his girlfriend out there alone with another man incensed him. “Angel, it’s time for bed. Tell your friend you have to go,” he said, tugging roughly at her arm.

Angel snatched her arm away and moved a few steps to the right to add more distance between her and her irate boyfriend. Her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. “You have your own cabin, Vincent. Feel free to go to bed alone if you’re tired.” She put extra emphasis on the word ‘alone’.

Jamaal stood silently by, watching, waiting to see what would happen next. Although he did not know Angel very well, he would not leave her alone with such an angry man.

At Angel’s words, Vincent’s normally attractive pecan-tan face turned into a drunken scowl. “No, what I’m tired of is you holding out on me. I’m not going to bed alone tonight. You’re coming with me, baby,” he slurred as he reached for her arm again. This time more forcibly.

Angel’s voice rose angrily. “Let go of me, Vincent! It’s over between us.” She would not tolerate being manhandled like this.

As Vincent tightened his grip, Jamaal grabbed his arm and flung it away. “The lady said let go!” His mahogany face was menacing as he stood in front of Vincent, towering over his 5’10 frame. Jamaal had to be all of 6’3 with zero percent body fat to boot.

Vincent staggered backwards, almost losing his balance. Fortunately, his hand grabbed hold of the guardrail and prevented a nasty spill. When he’d collected himself enough, he looked up, glaring angrily at the two equally irate people in front of him. Although intoxicated, Vincent assessed his options by mentally sizing up Jamaal and evaluating his chances of winning against the sober, robust-looking man.

I have no win here, Vincent mused, seeing the futility of the situation. Then in a last ditch effort to salvage his wounded pride, he angrily dismissed Angel with a wave of his hand. “The ice princess is all yours, player. I’m going somewhere else to get mine.” Then Vincent swaggered off singing, “Get your freak on,” by some female rapper he knew of, but couldn’t quite recall now through the thick fog in his head.

When Vincent was gone, Angel turned to Jamaal and handed him his jacket. “Thanks for everything. I think I’ll be going to my room now. I think I need to lie down.” She was starting to feel sick again. Her hands instantly went to her stomach.

I don’t understand this. I’ve been sailing dozens of times and I’ve never been seasick before, she mused.

“No problem. I’ll walk you. I’m headed to my room, too,” Jamaal said. His stomach wasn’t feeling all that great, either. Although he’d avoided the rest of the party, he had eaten a tuna fish sandwich from one of the catered serving trays earlier. Now he didn’t know if that was such a good idea after all.

As Jamaal walked Angel to Cabin 115, he started to feel sicker than ever, but she would never know by how pleasant he seemed. How concerned he was for her well-being instead of his own. However, that mahogany man of steel wouldn’t be able to hold onto his composure much longer, because as soon Jamaal made sure that Angel was safely inside her cabin, he hurried to his room and emptied out the contents of his stomach with deep heaves of nausea.

***

Meanwhile, Angel was in her room vomiting as if there was no tomorrow, too. It certainly felt like it as she held onto the clean white toilet bowl for dear life. She stayed that way for what seemed like hours. Then as Angel slowly slipped into unconsciousness, she thought she heard the sound of fireworks going off in the distance.

Darn, I’m missing the fireworks display. And then there was darkness.

© 2006 Suprina Frazier

No comments: