GOING DEEP WITH ABY

  [FANTASY FACTORY SHORT STORY SERIES]

  QUINN SLATER

  Copyright © 2019 Quinn Slater

  Going Deep With Aby is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Going Deep With Aby: A Fantasy Factory Short Story

  Copyright © 2019 by Quinn Slater

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design, editing, and interior design by Masque of the Red Pen

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  “Think you can fix it?” Aby asked.

  I shook my head. “The engine‘s flooded, the radio is busted, and there’s a small leak in the back. I managed to get the beacon working, but it could be days before anyone finds us. We’ve drifted several miles out to sea.”

  Aby walked along the side of the yacht, looking for the crew who had been tossed into the water when the storm hit early that morning.

  “They were good people,” I said, having known none of them, but doing my best to console Aby for her lost crew. The men had fought gallantly to save us.

  “It’ll be dark soon,” she said. “I’m going inside to make sure everything in the cabin is secure. And we should probably eat sometime.” She smiled faintly and then glanced at the water once more before entering the yacht's cabin. She didn’t seem as concerned as she should be about the loss of life. Families would have to be told of lost loved ones

  I climbed to the pilot’s chair and looked out across the vast sea, seeing nothing to save us. The storm had come out of nowhere early that morning while everyone was sleeping. Waves sent the boat to its side, tossing everyone from their beds. The crew fought to secure tables and chairs on deck, but as they did, they were thrown into the sea. When the engines began to sputter, the captain climbed down from his perch and was immediately tossed into the water. I caught Aby by the waist right before she tried to dart out onto the deck, thinking she could save everyone. I pulled her back inside, the two of us anxiously awaiting the end of the storm.

  I moved to the back of the yacht to make sure the single jet ski was securely in place. The other had come loose during the storm and sank beneath crushing waves. We were at the sea’s mercy.

  When I turned, I found Aby heading toward the front of the boat, her long black hair floating in the breeze. Her beauty had not been lost on me when I first boarded the yacht, her smile bright and wide.

  “You doing okay?” I asked and joined her.

  Aby nodded toward the sunset. Orange, yellow, and red filled the horizon; the sun halfway into the ocean, the clouds edged with brilliant colors. “It’s why I do this in the first place. I get to see the world as it should be and not as it is.” She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She didn’t appear to be sad, just lost in what lay in front of us. “We’ll return your money, of course.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m sorry for what happened to the crew.”

  Aby nodded and took a deep breath, the top edge of the sun almost below the horizon. She seemed to be transfixed by the sunset.

  Yesterday, Aby was the first to welcome me aboard the 260-foot yacht. She wore a bright smile, a cap, and ponytail. She showed me what I was getting for a weekend rental, giving me a tour of the kitchen, engine room, and cabin. She even presented a toast over dinner, her and her crew welcoming me aboard.

  “You’re going to miss your game,” she said.

  I shrugged as if it were all right. But really, it wasn’t. I was having the best season of my career and the team was definitely heading to the playoffs if not the World Series. I was in the midst of a twenty-game hit streak. Up until this morning it had been a magical season. The trip had been a quick way to relax after the All-Star game.

  “How many boats do you own?” I leaned back against the boat, and Aby did the same, crossing her legs at the ankles. She laid her hands in her lap. Though a shimmer of sunlight painted the western horizon, stars filled the sky.

  “Four, including this one.” She pulled the sheer cover-up around her body and trembled as if a shiver worked down her spine. “We were supposed to check in at noon and then again at nine this evening. I'm sure my father has the Coast Guard looking for us. It shouldn’t be long.”

  “We’ll be fine,” I replied.

  “I know,” she said. “I don’t mind, really. The water’s my favorite place to be. Tell me about the game you play.”

  “Not a lot to tell. A guy throws a ball, and I try to hit it.”

  Aby shrugged. “Sounds easy enough. I should try it sometime.”

  I laughed and laid my hands over my lap. “It isn’t. But I do have a job I love.”

  “Could you ever walk away from it?” she asked. She studied something in the water, the black abyss beneath the boat far-reaching. Occasionally, I could see white tips when small waves collided.

  “Barring injury. I probably have another ten years to play. Then, yes, I could walk away.”

  She looked down at her hands again. “Have you ever been in love? And I don’t mean for sex. I mean with a woman you could never take your eyes off of or who you had given your heart to, asking for nothing in return but the same affection?”

  I paused for a moment, taken aback by the question. Of course I’d been in love. “You’re talking about the kind of love where nothing else exists but that love. The kind where happiness can only be found in each other and not in things, places, or other people.”

  “Doesn’t exist?” she asked.

  “I believe it can, and I understand what you mean. Personally, I want to be the reason someone comes home. I want to be the reason that someone climbs into bed, and the reason someone wakes in the morning. I want to be that sunshine on days when the skies are gloomy. So, yeah, I believe in that.”

  “And baseball is your dream?”

  “It is.”

  “And you could never walk away from it?”

  Nobody had ever posed that question to me, and I’d certainly never posed it to myself. Why had she? “When I was a little kid, it was all I ever dreamed about. I wanted to be a major league baseball player. I followed that dream and made it come true. But could I just one day walk away from it without a good reason? No. It would have to be for something impossible. Something so much bigger than the dream itself.”

  “Like love?” she asked.

  “Maybe if it were the love I described, then yes.” I waited for a few minutes, trying to digest the conversation and to give her an opportunity to explain why she was asking. When she said nothing, I did. “Being out here and owning these boats. Sounds like your dream.”

  She stared out across the water. “It is, but it’s also lonely out here. Like you, I want to be the reason someone comes home.” She turned to me. “What excites you most about a woman?’

  I leaned toward her and placed my lips against hers, our lips briefly sticking together when I pulled away. “That moment when you kiss for the first time. Your mind swirls a little. And there's a feeling in the pit of your stomach. Not just excitement. That moment when you think the person might be worth dying for. If the kiss makes you feel that way then you board that train and never jump off.” Her eyes turned strangely dark, black even. Not evil black, but coal-color nonetheless.

  She held my gaze for several seconds and then turned her attention back to the ocean. A hundred yards away something rose from the water and then disappeared. “I would agree,” she said. Again, something, several somethings, appeared above the water and then disappeared. Aby took a deep breath and then leaned her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes, leaving me to watch the stars alone.

  Being a star athlete, I knew people thought I had the life everyone wanted. But it wasn’t so. I spent eight months out of the year traveling. Even when the team was playing at home, I was spending eight to ten hours a day at the park which meant you could forget dating. Yeah, most of the guys went to clubs after games, looking for a quick lay. That got old as I found most women were after my nine-digit salary. On at least three occasions I was told no need to use a condom, that she was on the pill. I got tired of the games after the game.

  However, there was one. Miranda. We met while I was walking along the foul area signing autographs. She had her young daughter with her. Sara was her name. Her eyes got big as golf balls when I stopped. Miranda and I talked for several minutes while fans around us went on and on. I finally asked her to write her number on the side of my glove. She did and drew a heart at the end. I had two homeruns that game.

  I called Miranda that evening after the game. It was a Saturday night, and Sara had been asleep for an hour or so. We talked until three in the morning even though I had a one o’clock game. Miranda told me the challenges of being a single mom, about her divorce, and we even found out we attended the same college at the same time. She said she could play the piano, guitar, and was a novice saxophone player. Sara was also a popular topic.

  That was my second season with the Flor
ida Marlins, and Miranda and I dated through the end of the season. We made love often and spent every moment together that I wasn’t on the field or she wasn’t at work. I accepted Sara as my own and on days when I had an afternoon game, I let Sara wander through the clubhouse with me.

  Then one night, Miranda told me she was leaving for California. I’d rented a smaller boat, one I could sail myself. We anchored just off the Florida coast beneath a full moon and a billion stars. The boat rocked gently, but not enough to sway our decision to strip down to nothing. Miranda’s eyes were always changing colors, depending on the light. I’d never forget that night, watching her eyes dance between shades of blue and shades of green. We laid at the front of the boat, me between her legs, not inside her yet; instead, spending my time with my lips on her breasts, softly kissing and sucking. She enjoyed my wandering hands, fingers gently caressing her face, neck, brushing her sides and finally trailing down her legs and behind her knees. She loved my lips on her neck, especially behind her ears. I enjoyed feeling her pulse quicken each time my touch pleased her.

  Sex was simple that night. She reached between us, guiding me inside, her breath catching. I slowly moved forward. Taking my time. Being meticulous. Maybe if I had known before, I would have done something differently. Maybe we wouldn’t have made love at all. But for the next thirty minutes we were locked in each other’s arms, my hips driving down, her hips rising up. The perfect movements surrounded by the perfect setting.

  When we were done, we leaned against the boat, and she informed me that her mother was sick and she needed to leave, that she and Sara would be leaving the next morning. The following evening, I began the worst hitting slump of my career.

  “You okay?” Aby asked. “Looked like you were somewhere else.”

  I smiled and looked at my watch. “Thinking about making us drinks. The bar survive the storm?”

  “Most of the glasses were smashed, but I think I can find one or two.” Aby stood and hopped down to the walkway leading along each side of the yacht, her sheer cover-up flapping in the wind.

  “I took a week-long bartending class a few years ago during off season. Tell me what you want, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  We entered the cabin where the small dining room was flanked by a bar on one side and a gas fireplace on the other. Two couches, both black leather, sat across from each other in front of the fireplace. Most everything in the dining room, including the wood paneling, was black. A crystal chandelier hung above the dining room table. The yacht was not a luxury I could afford even on my salary.

  I stepped behind the bar, surprised at the selections. Aby placed two glasses on the bar and sat on one of the stools, her black hair up. She read the whiskey bottles as I placed them out, four of the finest selections the world had to offer.

  “Somebody knows their alcohol,” I said. “William Larue Weller. Kentucky made.”

  “One shot,” Aby said.

  I poured a shot in each glass and placed the bottle on the bar. “To a safe rescue,” I said and raised my glass.

  Aby raised her glass. “To the magical powers of the seas,” she said and gulped the shot. She put the glass down and nodded at the bottle. “Hit me, bartender.”

  I poured Aby another shot, placed my elbows on the bar, and leaned toward her, watching her drink. She put the glass down, and I shook my head. “I’m cutting you off,” I said. “The water gets rough and you’ll start puking all over the place.”

  “I can assure you that won’t be the case,” she said, and for the first time I caught an Italian accent.

  “Thought you were from here?” I asked.

  She stood and grabbed the bottle. “I’m from here and a lot of places. I can honestly say I’ve been around the globe.”

  “A woman of mystery,” I said and poured myself another drink from one of the other bottles.

  “You could say that,” she said. She looked at her watch. “It’s after midnight. We should get some sleep.”

  We started down the hallway to the bedrooms, and when I stopped at mine Aby stopped. She handed me the bottle, slipped her arm around mine, and led me to the end of the hallway.

  I said nothing, just followed her into the bedroom where she opened the curtains to the darkness outside. The windows were mere slits. The bed in the middle of the room was large and looked comfortable. A bathroom sat off to the left, a shower much larger than mine took up the back half of the bathroom.

  “I need to shower,” she said. “Make yourself at home.”

  I watched Aby cross the room, stopping before she entered the bathroom, facing away from me. She dropped the cover-up on a chair and then lifted her shirt over her head, her skin a shade darker than mine. She pushed her shorts down her legs, stepping to the side, not looking back at me, acting as if I weren’t even there. In the bathroom, standing in front of the shower, she dropped her bra to the floor and removed her panties. Her ass was beautifully round, her legs and back sensually toned. Her curves were gentle and delicious. She dimmed the lights and then reached into the shower, turning on the water, checking the temperature with her hand. In a matter of a few minutes, Aby had gone from shy and delicate to beautiful and sensual.

  I laid on the bed and tucked my hands behind my head, still watching Aby, watching the water race down her sides. Her sides? Something there. Something different. Tattoos? She turned and watched me through the glass. There was something forbidding about the woman. Not dark but mysterious.

  Aby finished her shower and came into the bedroom, dry and naked. I glanced at her sides again. Studied her naked body. Held her stare for a few moments.

  “Towels are on the shelf next to the shower,” she said, her accent in full swing.

  I stood from the bed and passed her, the scent of the sea wafting from her body. Though the smell was not sexy or appetizing, it was luring. A strangeness hung over her, drawing me to her presence. I stopped before entering the bathroom, standing there. I turned my head, Aby standing in the same spot she had when I approached. She took two steps back, stopping when she was next to me, still facing away. Arousal fully engulfed me.

  Aby looked up at me. “Thank you for the kiss.”

  Before that night, I’d never met a woman who could mesmerize me in a way that left me both speechless and motionless. She seemed to be holding my entire being in her eyes.

  She walked away. Leaving me like a statue. The boat rocked and I suddenly steadied myself, brought back from whatever place she had taken me. A drop of sweat raced down my cheek. I looked forward and saw that the shower was running. I raised my arms and then looked down my wet body. I turned and found Aby in the bed, sound asleep.

  I continued to the bathroom and turned off the shower, drying off before returning to the bedroom where I stood over the sleeping Aby, the woman I knew nothing about. I crawled into bed next to her naked body and stared at the ceiling. Something bounced off the bottom of the boat. I glanced at Aby and thought it might be okay if a rescue didn’t happen anytime soon. I glanced at the shower, not remembering ever having been in there.

  I woke to the smell of grilled fish and the sun beaming through the slit windows. I’d slept like a rock, and when I looked at the clock on the nightstand I quickly sat up, jumped from bed and put on shorts, skipping the need for shirt and shoes.

  “It’s dinnertime!” I said. “I slept eighteen hours!” I approached Aby and the grill near the back of the boat. “You should have woken me.”

  Aby laughed. “Are you complaining? Never heard a man complain about too much sleep.” She nodded at my crotch. “You need to zip it.”

  I zipped my pants and ran my fingers through my hair. Aby stole a glance at my body, and we smiled at each other. She opened the grill and dished two filets onto plates. It smelled better than anything back home.

  “Try it,” she said. “Or you just a burger and pizza kind of guy?” She wore a bikini I could see through the blue cover-up. An image of her in the shower last night flashed through my mind.

  I took the plate and then forked a piece of the fish into my mouth, savoring the taste. “Damn,” I said. “Freaking delicious.”

  “Ready to marry me?” She saw the smile leave my face. “I’m kidding,” she said. “You aren’t my type.”