I've Sailed the Seas

After I’ve left Ray in the hands of Kurt, our chef, and Bob to learn about the sails from Bjarne, I take Frank down to my quarters. I have a special job for him.
I point at my pile of clothes in the corner.

“You will wash those clothes. Soap is in the kitchen.” I turn around and walk over to my hammock.

“I’m gonna wash your clothes?” Frank asks in complete disbelief, as if I accidentally gave him the wrong order. When I’m seated in my hammock and look up at him, he’s got one hand on his hip, while the other is pointing at the pile over his shoulder.

“Yes.” Frank snorts.

“So I’m your personal servant?” I simply nod, while I can’t wipe the sly smirk off my face.
Frank rolls his eyes, shakes his head and looks off to the side towards the door.
I give him a look over. I could totally take him if he bolted.
He turns his head back to me, and when our eyes meet I easily see the seductive, yet vicious, look in them. He licks his bottom lip before he pulls it in between his teeth. His eyes trail down my chest to my lap, then back up.
“I could be a good servant and wash your clothes,” he starts and steps closer and closer to me – a sensual strut in his walk.
“Or I could be a bad servant,” he continues. He reaches me and grabs onto my knees and leans down close to my face.
“And make you feel so good.” His eyes are drowned in lust.
I smirk at him. His sexual antics are too much. I find subtlety more attractive.
Surprise is even better.

“Then I suggest that you…” I trail off and lean in close to his lips. For a second, I want nothing else but to kiss them, but I want to be the one in control – not him.
I am a son of a Viking, after all.
I trail my hot breath up his cheek to his ear.
“Wash my clothes.”
When I sense him frown – when his fingers stop their forceful caress of my knees – I lie back in my hammock and close my eyes.