Day 3 of their Crossing

Jessica woke up in George's arms again on the morning of the third day aboard ship. They were spooning, George's right arm under her neck and pillow, his left slung over her waist. If she had known yesterday by waking up with her cheek against his chest that he wanted her, her position as the little spoon this morning, made her stifle an answering moan of desire. His soft breath on the back of her neck was steady; he was not awake yet. Turning inward, she had time to reflect on their time thus far.

While she had considered asking him to make love to her last night after their conversation over the ring, she had waited. She believed she was ready, but staying together in the same stateroom did not allow for much subterfuge, so there was no doubt when Arnold, their steward, had knocked on the door that the small jewelry box he delivered contained the wedding ring. George had placed it on his bedside table; there was no need to pretend, even though neither of them said anything. He had waited until she went to take a bath before hiding it somewhere, as she did not see the box when she came to bed.

Though they had discussed the ring thoroughly, she felt that if they had made love that night after he had purchased it, it would have felt transactional. As lurid as it sounded in her own mind, it would have made her feel cheap, as though she had been purchased and was expected to put out, as she had heard her nieces say it was referred to these days. That whole idea was vulgar and not what they were to each other. Whenever they were finally intimate, she wanted it to be a true expression of their love for one another with no underlying reasons or motivations. Thankfully, true to his word, George had not pressed, only asking if he could hold her as they fell asleep, kissing the top of her head when she settled against him.

Confident that he would be ready for her if she woke him with the intention of making love this morning, she paused. As she contemplated the thought of seducing him, the idea never got off the ground. There was no way she would ever initiate lovemaking for the first time in the morning. Intimacy, especially in her case when it had been years since her last experience, was exactly that, intimate. Vulnerable. She had enough fears as it was, being vulnerable with another person again, even aware that they were unfounded with George.

Intuitively, she understood that George was the right man to let her walls down with. He was kind, trustworthy, and he loved her. Despite having the absolute certainty that he found her attractive, she was still a woman and would always be aware of her own physical imperfections, worried that once she was undressed, he might see the faults she did. Though she felt thankful for her body and considered it useful and in reasonably good health and condition, she was under no illusions. She was a woman of a certain age with a fair number of wrinkles and blemishes. Thus, the first time for them to be intimate would require the evening, if not at bedtime, at least under a semblance of darkness, lending itself to romance. She would want to see him, and she was certain he would feel the same, but in all likelihood, it would be with the bathroom light on and the door cracked. Not the brilliant morning sun streaming through their balcony door. Lovemaking in the early morning would have to wait until she felt more comfortable with him seeing her unclothed in the light of day.

His breathing changed behind her and his arousal grew more pronounced. She blushed, wondering if he was awake or still in between sleep and wakefulness. Feeling his hips pull away while keeping his upper body firmly against her, she was certain he was awake now, trying to spare her from embarrassment.

Not wanting to lead him on in a situation where she was not willing to continue, she did not call attention to his slight pulling away, instead placing a kiss to his forearm that was wrapped around her. "Good morning, George. Did you sleep well?"

"Aye, I did, lass. And you?" He placed a warm kiss on the curve of her neck.

She nodded against him. "Are you hungry?" Realizing that he could misinterpret her question, as her voice was still slightly husky from lack of use so early in the morning, she held her breath, wondering if he would tease her, but George was a gentleman and said nothing, only that he would like to shower before they went in search of breakfast.

"Go shower and I'll call room service. The sun is shining. Perhaps if we bundle up, we can sit on the balcony at least long enough to have a cup of tea in the fresh air. Then, before we freeze, we can eat our meal inside by the window."

"I love how you think, Jessie. I won't be long." He kissed her again, this time below her ear, causing a chill to run down her spine, before he climbed out of bed.

Jessica sat up against the headboard, perusing the room service menu before calling to place their order. She wrapped her bathrobe around herself and put her slippers on, making the bed and preparing to be presentable if breakfast arrived before he finished his shower. While she waited, she pulled out a pair of wool trousers and socks, a thick red sweater and her coat, scarf, and gloves. It was foolish to think that they would be able to bear sitting outside for any length of time in December on the high seas, but sometimes the foolish things can be the best things. Glancing at the clock, it had been less than five minutes since George went into the bathroom and she had called for room service. Hearing the water still running, she made the decision to dress, hoping that both the steward and George would take a while longer.

She had almost finished. She already had her trousers on and was pulling the sweater over her head when the bathroom door opened. She froze with her back to the door. Sensing George's presence, she pulled her head through quickly, when his warm hands wrapped around her body, his voice sending tendrils of desire through her, his warm hand slipping underneath her sweater to explore, wrapping around her torso, and caressing her soft skin. "I would have helped you, my dear, but I'm afraid you were going about it the wrong way. I'd rather help you out of your jumper than into it."

"I know, George. I'm sorry."

He turned her around to face him. "Lass, whatever made you feel you had to apologize?"

Her face was flushed, and the rest of her body was heating up, "I want you, George. I hope to be with you…soon...very soon."

He clutched her body to his own, whispering in her ear, "I know we have said no pressure, but I think it's perhaps a bit foolish of me to think you aren't still feeling some. We are sharing a stateroom and a bed. Perhaps this wasn't fair to you, lass. I am sorry if you feel like you have to."

"Stop." She was not sure what else to say, but she could not let him continue or he would find a way to leave her, and she needed him. They may not have made love yet, but she loved him and being able to recognize that and verbalize it to him had been a tremendous step for her. Now that she had opened her heart in this way, she could not, she would not lose him. If she had to take her clothes off right now and seduce him in the daylight, she would if that's what it took.

Even though she had not said anything further, she held onto him tightly, doing her best to tell him with her actions what her words were lacking. Still, it was not fair to him to stay silent. Turning her head, snuggling into his chest, her forehead against his neck, she said, "I love you, George. I…sharing the stateroom and the bed…yes, it's a little overwhelming, but I am happy we are, because it's the next step. I have been frightened for too long. I need to be pushed out of my comfort zone. Don't forget…this was my idea, darling."

It was the first time Jessica had ever called him darling, which was not lost on him, but they did not discuss it further, due to the knock at the door.

Within a few minutes, they had their room service breakfast tray placed on their small table. Arnold seemed concerned at their plan to sit on the balcony with their tea, saying that it would surely become too cold immediately. They had assured him that they would only attempt it briefly while bundled up, but they both felt the need for fresh air and wanted to take advantage of the sunshine while it lasted.

Opening the balcony door, they stepped outside together with their cups in hand, careful to ensure the door closed to keep the warm air inside while verifying it remained unlocked.

The steward was right to be concerned. The air was frigid and if it was not for the rays of sunshine, they would have gone back inside without even attempting to sit down. Instead, George sat in one of the chairs, setting their cups on the table. Reaching for her hand before she sat down, he pulled her over, bringing her to sit on his lap.

"George!"

"Mmm, much better," he murmured, nuzzling her neck, causing her to shriek in surprise. He chuckled against her, his mouth soft and warm against her smooth skin. While his breath was warm, his nose was cold due to the elements, and she could not tell what her body was doing as it tried to react to the two extremes in temperature. Trying not to think, she wrapped one of her arms around his neck, holding him to her. After several heartbeats as their breathing began to sync, she whispered in his ear, "I'm so cold, George."

He laughed again, lifting her from his lap. "You go on in, Jess. I'll get our cups."

With the balcony door firmly closed behind them, they pulled their coats, gloves, and scarves off. "Well, I suppose our steward was right. It was far too cold to sit outside."

"Oh, I don't know about that," he said, from behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. "I quite enjoyed having you in my lap."

"Hmm, well, you do have a point."

A knock at the door had them springing away from one another, Jessica heading to answer it. "Oh, Arnold. Is anything wrong?"

He was carrying a smaller tray, holding it out to her. "No, Mrs. Fletcher. I was concerned that your tea may have gone cold outside though, and so I went ahead and brought you a fresh pot. I hope that was alright."

"Oh, how kind of you. You were right. It was far too cold, and our tea suffered. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Bringing it over to the table, they sat down for breakfast.

"How thoughtful of him."

"Aye, I have a feeling we aren't the first to attempt to go out on the balcony this time of year. Arnold knows how to please his guests, that's for certain. It's a good thing we were outside for less than five minutes and he brought the fresh pot so quickly."

"Why is that?"

"Because our breakfast is still warm."

Her laughter and smile delighted him.

G/J

Following breakfast, Jessica made a decision. Finally feeling ready to be with George intimately, she planned to wear her finest lingerie under her evening dress at dinner that evening. Yes, she was nervous and a bit frightened. Not at the intimacy itself but at what it would do to her heart in the aftermath. She wanted George Sutherland. Of that, she was certain. Dealing with the many details that were sure to follow as she intuitively knew that once they became lovers she would never want to sleep alone ever again? That…that was what frightened and overwhelmed her.

After the sunshine that morning, it had turned gray by early afternoon, as the Queen Mary 2 entered rough seas due to a storm. Speaking to Arnold, he informed them the captain tried to avoid it but was unable to entirely due to the size. As the day progressed, the motion of the ship increased, causing the passengers to feel the sway as they walked on board.

The promenade deck had been closed off, as it was dangerous for anyone to go outside. Knowing that they would go stir crazy inside their small stateroom, yet understanding that if the storm got any worse, they may need to, they took the opportunity to walk throughout the ship's many different levels, stopping once for a cup of tea and sandwich, and a chat with the barman regarding the turn the weather had taken.

All afternoon, Jessica had felt well, but once the ocean liner reached the storm, she had become cautious, since consuming their large breakfast from room service. For the rest of the day, she was careful not to eat anything heavy. Even so, after their impromptu afternoon tea, she was beginning to feel queasy, and by the time they were heading back to change for dinner, she was decidedly unwell but trying to hide it from George.

Realizing that she was feeling worse, and dinner may not be a good idea, she asked, "George, would you mind terribly if we didn't go to the dining room for dinner?"

"Of course not, lass. Are you feeling alright?" Peering at her in concern, he reached for her hand. "Jess, do you get seasick?"

"I never have before."

"Hmm. Well, this is decidedly different from what most people get seasick from. The QM2 is so large that the ocean must be very angry indeed to feel anything inside. The fact we are feeling the motion means that the storm is a powerful one." Making a decision as they stood in a hallway close to the movie theater that was about to show the latest Disney movie, he said, "Jessie, this is what we are going to do. We are going back to our cabin, and I will find Arnold and ask him for some soup and crackers. Perhaps a soda of some sort to calm your stomach. We will find a movie to watch on our television if they have any playing and take it easy tonight. There is no sense in taking a risk that you become ill."

She did not argue. She couldn't. She was too focused on not losing what little was on her stomach already.

Only, when they reached their stateroom, Jessica had to rush to the small bathroom, barely remembering to slam the door behind her before she lost her stomach.

Oh, how miserable. She wanted to die of embarrassment, right after she died from the nausea overtaking her. She had never been seasick before, taking two prior crossings, but never during wintertime. Even when she had traveled to the Caribbean previously, the tropical storms were nothing compared to this. Being strong-willed, she could often block out negative or troublesome situations, even minor pain, which was not always for the best, as she felt sure that was why she had allowed her relationship with George to stagnate.

Unfortunately, this was not something she could avoid. After her body rejected everything left on her stomach, she moved off her knees carefully, leaning back against the bathroom wall.

"Oh," she moaned softly, feeling a sheen of perspiration that remained on her forehead. She closed her eyes trying to rest. She thought it was over, but she was not going to risk any further movement yet.

The best laid plans…

A soft knock at the door. Damn. George was checking on her.

"Lass? May I come in?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Oh, Jessie, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I want to check on you. Make sure you are alright."

"Well, I am. Please don't come in, George. Unless you need to use the bathroom?" They were sharing a stateroom after all. She did not want to be a rude partner by not considering that he may need to use the bathroom.

"I'm alright. I do want to see you, but I can wait."

His voice sounded as though it was coming from the floor. Was he sitting on the other side of the door from her?

"Are you sitting on the floor, George?"

"Aye."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I? You are sick. I want to be close to you and I want you to know I am here if you need me."

"But George, you already heard me lose my stomach."

"Aye. You think it isn't something I have heard before or something I haven't done many times myself?"

He had a point. But she doubted he had ever been sick under these circumstances.

"It's not the same," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"I was going to seduce you tonight after dinner."

Silence.

Her face flushed from a different kind of embarrassment. How would he ever find her attractive now? It was one thing to get sick in front of a partner or spouse after being together for a long while. Lord knows, she had been sick on the bathroom floor many times over the years married to Frank, due to a variety of illnesses. But they had been married and regardless, it was not like she enjoyed him seeing her that way. Now? For it to happen to her after the first few days they shared a bed was mortifying.

She could hear him clear his throat and try to speak. A wave of fresh embarrassment flooded over her, thinking how thin the door must be if she could hear him clear his throat that well.

"Lass, while I am excited at the thought of you seducing me—I want you to feel well. I want to help you. I want to take care of you. If it was me sick in there and you were out here, would you not feel the same way?"

He had a point.

"Yes, I suppose you are right."

"Will you please let me come in?"

She inhaled deeply, her mind spinning. This was not the type of intimacy she had desired tonight, but it was a form of intimacy. Of that, there was no doubt.

Slowly, she exhaled. "I'm afraid to move, but you can come in. It's not locked."

The handle of the door turned and from her spot against the wall, she saw George's head peer around the corner from their mutual positions on the floor. The absurdity of the situation that had her tall Scotsman sitting on the floor of their stateroom, while she had been dry heaving in their bathroom was so peculiar, she could do nothing but laugh. Oh, but the pain that ensued from the tightness in her chest and throat due to being sick, caused her to stop and grimace.

"Lass, what's wrong?"

"It hurts…to laugh. My chest and throat still have too much tension."

"Well, I shall endeavor to be more serious."

Cutting her gaze back towards him, she was not certain if he meant that or was teasing, but the concerned look on his face as he reached to stroke her cheek showed he was sincere.

Taking in her appearance, he stood to wet down a washcloth in cool water. Crouching back down beside her, he wiped her face and neck, while she leaned her head back giving him space to do so.

She sighed. While she did not enjoy having him care for her, she could feel his love for her through his touch and troubled look on his face. She supposed this was the only way she would be vulnerable tonight.

Oh, but she wished she could have been with him in bed instead, feeling his arms wrapped around her as their desire for one another heightened.

"Lass?"

"Hmm?"

"How are you feeling now?"

"Alright, but I don't have anything left on my stomach. I feel weak and still a bit nauseous. But not in immediate danger."

"I had Arnold bring you some broth and crackers already. Do you think you could manage that?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Well, let's get you off the floor at least and in your pajamas. Then, once you are settled, you can decide."

Helping her to stand, he paused to let her rinse her mouth out at the basin and then led her to the bedside, getting her to sit on the edge. Opening the drawer she had put her underthings in, he was delighted to see lingerie, confirming that she had intended to be intimate with him at some point during their travel, giving him another surge of hope as he had experienced the day before when he had purchased her ring. Finding the one pair of plain pajamas that she brought, they were made of a soft fabric in pale blue that he knew he would still struggle to keep his hands off.

"May I help you undress?" His voice was quiet and tremulous, waiting for her verdict.

She could manage only a nod.

He made quick work of pulling her jumper overhead, and undoing her trousers and pulling her socks off, helping her to stand and step out of the pant legs. Her bra and panties were matching, both lace and satin in light pink, and utterly feminine. He wanted to stare, but could not take any pleasure in doing so, knowing her discomfort. Instead, he hurriedly wrapped her pajama top around her upper body, so she could unhook and slip her bra off, maintaining an illusion of modesty. At a later time of her choosing, he would stare and memorize every curve and line of her, but he would not take advantage of her now.

She reached to hold his hand to stand and step into the pajama bottoms. Before he helped her under the covers, she said, "George, thank you, for not looking right now. I feel terribly unattractive and uncomfortable."

"I know you feel that way, Jessie, but I assure you that nothing is further from the truth. You are beautiful." Sitting beside her, he asked, "Do you think you could manage some broth or crackers?"

"Not yet. Could I sleep for a bit?"

"Of course. Would you allow me to hold you?"

"I would love that, George," she breathed. He turned the light off and moved to lie beside her. Slipping his arms around her waist, he kissed her cheek. He was startled to discover it was wet.

"Jessie, don't cry."

"I wanted your arms around me tonight, but I never imagined it would be because I was sick."

"Shh, my dear, bonnie lass. It's alright. It happens. But I am here and I am not going anywhere. I do want you to drink something soon though. You can't get too dehydrated. But you can sleep for a bit first."

"Alright."

"Arnold said that we are through the worst of the storm. We should be in smoother seas sometime in the middle of the night. I will call for fresh broth later. Close your eyes and rest for now."

Nodding against him, she let her weary body sleep.