In Like Flynn, page 13
“That was quite the gown,” Nicholas said. “Hope it’s not ruined.”
“I had planned on a special night before we reached Sugar Cove,” she said.
Flynn allowed himself a smile. “Did I feature in those plans?”
“You did, but now . . .” She found herself stupidly wanting to apologize to him. Her hair was a mess of tangles, her gown was soaked, and she looked like a drowned rat. Not exactly how she’d imagined this moment. So much for acting like a pretty, genteel lady. Not that anyone would ever believe her if she tried, but still, she’d wanted to look her best.
When he reached her, he brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek.
“I rescued a kitten from a rainstorm once,” he said. “The creature was half-drowned, but it was a fierce little thing, strong as hell.” He smiled as if at some old memory. “That cat grew up to be an excellent mouser and a wonderful companion for a small boy who had lost his friend.” He trailed his fingers down her neck. “I think that cat saved me, rather than the other way around.” His lips parted a little as he trailed his fingertip along the tops of her breasts, which were pushed up tight against her wet bodice. Heat blossomed in the wake of that touch.
“What does that have to do with—?”
He silenced her with a kiss. She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. He was soaking wet but not nearly as cold as she was, and she basked in the heat of his body.
The kiss ended too quickly, but he didn’t let go of her.
“You’re cold from the sea. Let me warm you up, Captain,” he murmured.
“Brianna,” she whispered. “Tonight, I am Brianna.”
“As you wish.”
She smiled at that. He made it sound like he was taking an order from her, but there was an undeniable tenderness in those three words, “As you wish,” that made her tremble with longing.
Flynn nuzzled her cheek. “You take care of this crew every day, Brianna. Tonight, let me take care of you.” He nuzzled her throat next as his hands roamed her back, soothing and enticing.
“Yes, Lord, yes,” she whispered. His teeth teased along her throat, and she felt her whole body surge to life.
He backed them up to the nearest wall of her cabin and with an aching slowness began to tug at the laces of her corset.
She didn’t have a chemise on under the gown, and so with each lace he loosened, a sliver of her flesh peeked out from the wet fabric. He was quick but sure, and in no time at all her bodice fell to the floor and her breasts were bared between them.
Nicholas cupped one breast in his palm and traced a circle around her nipple with his thumb. The touch made her feel such a violent hunger that she closed her eyes and tried to tamp down the flood of desire that wrapped around her like fog.
“You have a sure hand, Flynn. Have you been with many women?” she asked. Though she sounded confident enough, part of her worried that she might not measure up to his expectations.
“A few,” he admitted. “Have you been with many men?” He still stroked her breasts, and her eyes opened.
“A few,” she said, being equally vague. “Does that bother you?” She had never worried about being a virgin before, but she knew that most gentlemen preferred it, expected it. Yet another case where a man was held to a different standard than a woman.
“No, not so long as you wanted to be with those men.” Nicholas smiled softly. “You have a right to live and love, same as anyone else. And tonight there will be only pleasure between us,” he promised.
Though she wasn’t a virgin, at least in the physical sense, part of her felt like one all the same as he turned her away from him and his hands began to unfasten the hooks on the back of her dress. The skirts soon pooled at her feet, and she shimmied out of the single petticoat she wore. Brianna glanced over her shoulder at him and was relieved to see that his desire for her matched hers for him.
“My God, you’re breathtaking,” he said, his voice hoarse.
He raised her up in his arms, and she squealed in surprise as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down tenderly, then tugged off his boots before removing his clothes. She saw the still-healing scars on his back, wounds he’d suffered protecting her from that madman Waverly. She’d saved his life twice since then, and yet it still didn’t feel like they were even.
He was beautiful, even with the scars from his injuries. She had her own scars too, faint white lines etched into her skin that proved she had lived a pirate’s life of risk and reward.
Nicholas sat on the bed beside her. “Pull back the covers, love.”
She did as he asked, and he slipped beneath the sheets with her. They lay beside each other a long while, and as he leaned over her and placed coaxing kisses on her cheeks, her eyes closed. He kissed her chin, her forehead, her eyelids. She was unused to this, this lovemaking.
The other men she’d been with in the past had been eager to have their pleasure and she’d been eager for hers. They had coupled quickly and with excitement, each seeking and finding their own gratification. But there had never been this. Every single touch, every single kiss held the promise of something deeper, things she’d never wanted with any man before. It was a promise of more. Nicholas’s body pressed to hers, and a quiver of longing that went beyond her flesh made her push tighter to him. He nuzzled her ear and pressed a kiss to the shell, sending a spike of desire through her.
“Flynn,” she whispered. “Please. I need you.”
“Nicholas,” he corrected with a teasing chuckle. “Tonight, I am Nicholas.”
She smiled. “As you wish.”
The nuzzling continued until at last she became frustrated by it. She pushed at his chest so he had to lift his lips from her throat. “Nicholas?”
“Yes, my pirate queen?” His lips twitched with a wicked smile.
“You’re going too damn slow. It’s maddening.” She almost groaned in frustration.
“Am I? Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He slid down her body, then placed his hands on her knees and pushed her legs apart.
Though she was experienced in the bedchamber, what he meant to do was completely new to her. “Wait, what are you—?”
“Silence, wench,” he growled. His forceful tone made her wriggle and laugh.
“Wench, am I? I’ll have you hung from the—oh my God.” She shrieked as he grasped her buttocks and bent his mouth to kiss her mound with a ferocity she’d never felt before. There were no words for how it felt for him to torture her with his tongue like this, the riot of sensations she felt. Next he pushed a finger into her, gently penetrating her with it while he suckled the tender bud at the top of her mound. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, desperate to find relief from his mouth, and yet he only took more of her into him.
Her climax was so close, so wonderfully close. She wriggled in encouragement, and he gave her bottom a light smack as if to remind her he was in charge right now. That was all it took. The climax that followed burst apart inside her like a tender flame dropped into a barrel of gunpowder. She screamed, and the sound echoed off the walls, but she didn’t care.
“Are you all right?” Nicholas slid back up her body, his slender, muscled hips nestled into the cradle of her thighs.
“Y-yes.” Oh, she was more than all right. “But you didn’t . . .” She rocked her hips up, encouraging him to enter her.
“Soon.” He feathered his lips over hers and then flicked his tongue against hers while he adjusted his body and the hard length of him nudged at her entrance. “You feel so tight,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt—”
“Take me, Flynn.” She dug her fingertips into the hard muscles of his buttocks, and he surged deep into her.
They shared a moan as he sank in. Her body almost hurt from the pressure she felt with him filling every inch of her until there was no ending or beginning between them.
It was wonderful—and then he moved inside her and it became rapturous. His warm breath mixed with hers as he claimed her fully, completely. Nicholas’s lips captured hers in slow, drugging kisses as he thrust deep over and over, the intensity rising until neither of them could do more than simply gasp for breath.
They moved together, lost in each other and the spell of the moment. She surrendered to another earth-shattering orgasm, and then he joined her and shouted her name as he released. Warmth filled her, and she burrowed her face against his neck, kissing him and tasting the sea salt on his skin, completely and utterly spent. A peace she had never imagined possible wrapped her up, and she sighed in bliss. He shifted as if to leave, and she protested with a soft sound and held on to him.
“I’m not going anywhere, love. I just need to get my weight off you.” He kissed her brow and withdrew from her body, but thankfully not her bed. He pulled her to lie against his side, and she snuggled into his arms.
They lay there a long while before she dared to speak. “Tomorrow, we must not—”
“I know,” he replied. “One night. I understand.”
As she felt sleep tiptoe toward her, she wondered . . . Did either of them believe one night would ever be enough? What would happen once they reached Sugar Cove? The thought of never seeing him again dug into her heart like a sharp dagger, and she closed her eyes, wishing for just this moment that there was no tomorrow.
CHAPTER 11
The port of Sugar Cove teemed with a mix of pirate vessels and merchant ships of questionable reputation. The docks had sailors from more than a dozen crews handling cargo and fraternizing.
Brianna stood atop the gangplank, watching her crew depart with their pockets lined with coin. They had a few days to run amok between the taverns and brothels before they would need to return to the ship. It would rally their spirits after the harsh storm, Billy’s death, the dismissal of the crew members involved in the attempted murder, and the unexpected delays her time in Port Royal’s prison had caused them.
The final crewman rushed down the gangplank, jangling his coins in excitement.
“That’s the last of them,” Joe said.
“We had better see to the supplies first since we lost our chance in Port Royal.”
Brianna stared at the chaos ahead of her, never more glad to be in her breeches, blouse, and waistcoat. Her wig was in her cabin; that was something she wore only in the more “civilized” ports where she needed to pass as a man. Besides, women in Sugar Cove who wore skirts were usually prostitutes or the wives of wayward pirates, and she didn’t want to be mistaken for either of those. Better to wear her breeches and be left more or less alone by the men here. Most already knew better than to make a pass at her.
“Have you and Flynn parted ways for good?” Joe asked.
Brianna nodded. “He left early. We agreed he should find his crew if they were here.”
The truth was she hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. She’d let him pull back the covers and step out of bed. Her gaze had lingered on his gloriously naked ass as he collected his clothes from the floor and dressed. Once he’d left, she’d pressed her face into the warmth left on his pillow. She’d closed her eyes, imagining for a moment he hadn’t left.
It was better this way. She had to keep the peace with her crew, and the other day’s events were proof that his presence would only make trouble. Pirate crews thrived on a sense of equality, of a sort, with their captain. Anything that bred jealousy could lead to mutiny.
Joe patted her shoulder. “I’ll see to the supplies. Why don’t you go send word to your father?”
Her father had a small but profitable plantation on the island of Saint Kitts, where his crews worked in land-based occupations during times of bad weather. It was particularly useful during hurricane season and in the winter. Her father had sailed less and less these past few years. In private company with her and Joe, he had made talk of retiring, leaving behind his title as Shadow King of the West Indies.
More than once, she and her father had quarreled over this. Brianna didn’t want to hear him talk of letting go of what in her eyes defined him, and he had dared to tell her she would understand when she was older—understand what it meant to find peace in a new way of life.
Peace . . . she didn’t want peace. She wanted life.
“I’ll send word to him,” she said and left Joe to manage their supplies. She leapt off the gangplank and strolled down the wooden walkways toward the village, where she could already hear the exciting cacophony of sounds that made up pirate life.
There was never a dull moment in the pirate haven. Sugar Cove was full of men fighting, gambling, wenching, and sometimes all three at the same time. Someone was playing a hornpipe as drunken revelers danced in the streets. Careful to dodge brawling men and prostitutes offering their services, Brianna made her way to a small apothecary on the outskirts of the village.
A little wooden sign that read Dr. Melody’s Medicines hung over the door. The interior of the shop was dim and even more unwelcoming than the chaos outside in the streets. The paint was cracked and peeling, dusty jars filled the shelves lining the walls, and pots of various ointments and salves were nestled in between.
“Brianna!” an old man with a whiskered jaw greeted her from behind the grimy counter. He wore a pair of thick spectacles that enlarged his eyes in a disturbing way that reminded Brianna of an owl. But this was one of the few men she trusted with her life—and her father’s. He’d once sailed under Buck before he’d gotten too old to weather the sea.
“Dr. Melody,” she said in a soft voice. Though the shop was empty, she didn’t want anyone outside to hear their conversation. Sugar Cove was full of eyes and ears that could be bought by anyone for the right price.
“What can I be making for you today? More salves for sunburns—”
She leaned over the counter. “I need you to send a message.” At this, he cleared his throat and removed his spectacles as he peered at her closely.
“And what message should I be relaying?”
“Lions prowl the harbors and hills. We will come to you.” Her father would know what she meant, that the navy was searching for him on land and sea. There was no sense in him leaving his plantation until she came up with a clever way to send the navy off on a wild chase.
“I can do that. My man will be here any minute. He’ll know what to do.”
“Thank you.” Brianna collected a pair of jars of salve and tossed a few shiny coins his way, which made his eyes glitter at the sight. She left Dr. Melody’s shop and carried her purchases in a leather satchel. If anyone was following her, she’d appear to have bought goods from the apothecary and nothing more.
She returned to the town square and spotted several familiar faces, men who had sailed with Dominic Grey in the past. They lounged about near the opening of a tavern, each of them drinking mugs of ale and talking. Luck was with her, it seemed. The Emerald Dragon’s crew was here, which meant Nicholas could join them, assuming he hadn’t already found them.
She started toward the group but halted when she saw Nicholas round the corner. He stumbled into the midst of his own crew, who all stopped drinking to look at him. There was an uneasy moment where the other sailors stared at him, tense, wary, as if ready for a fight.
What was this all about?
Brianna watched from the hidden vantage point of a boardinghouse across the square. Flynn spoke to a man in the group who might have been the Dragon’s newest captain, but she was too far away to hear what was being said. After a moment, the rest of the men relaxed, and one man even offered Nicholas a mug of ale. So some bad blood, perhaps on account of him being caught, but all was forgiven.
Nicholas glanced around the square, and Brianna sank deeper into the shadows. He was with his crew, and that was all that mattered now. It was best if she no longer looked back at what might’ve been. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Well blast me, if it ain’t Nicholas Flynn!”
Someone hollered a laugh of recognition, and Flynn relaxed. He had stumbled quite unexpectedly straight into Dominic’s old crew from the Emerald Dragon. For a moment, he had feared the worst, that the crew members would decry him as a spy for the Royal Navy. But then he saw the new captain among them, Reese Belishaw. If Reese welcomed him, the others would follow.
“Well met, Flynn.” Reese gripped his hand, and the Dragon’s first mate, a man named Chibbs, thrust a mug of ale at Flynn.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Reese asked. “Is Dom with you?”
“No, he’s still in Port Royal with Robbie.” Nicholas hesitated. “Reese, may I beg a favor of you?”
“Of course.” In another life, he and Reese would have been fighting sword to sword, pirate against naval officer, but Dominic had united the two in trust and friendship. Nicholas didn’t want to lie to Reese, so he would do his best to win the man’s cooperation with a few stretched stories.
“I came to port on the Sea Serpent.”
“Did you now?” Reese drawled out slowly, and his gaze intensified. “How did you manage that? The captain of the Serpent runs a tight ship.”
“He certainly does.” Nicholas jerked his head to the side to indicate they should step away from the others for a moment.
At the subtle emphasis of the word he, Reese moved away from his men and moved into a more secluded part of the tavern.
“So you’ve met her, then,” Reese said, keeping his voice low.
“Yes, and she’s rather magnificent.” Nicholas probably should have described her some other way, such as impressive or remarkable, but such words felt inadequate. He smiled at the memory of his pirate queen lashed to the helm in the midst of a storm and how she’d risked her life to save his. But more than that, he remembered how she’d felt in his arms, how she’d made him feel more alive than anything else had in his entire life.
Reese chuckled. “Ah, so you are in love with her.”
“I don’t love—” Nicholas stammered, but Reese waved a hand.
“It is a lucky man to love her. Few men have known her well enough to say that.”
