Page 13 of A Pirate's Pleasure

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Page 13 of A Pirate's Pleasure

“Meaning that within thirty-six hours, we may need to resort to cannibalism. Perhaps we can eat your friend. That might go some way to making the men feel better. How does he taste?”

I ignored Whitby’s question and the provocative tone he’d delivered it in. I also ignored the rush of memories it evoked. “So… what are you saying?”

Whitby scratched at his chin. “I’m saying that we need to stop off somewhere and resupply. We’re fine for water, but food is another matter. We can probably stretch it to two days, but any longer than that and we’ll struggle.”

“Fine. So we’ll stop off somewhere and resupply. Work out where the best place is, and have Fletcher set a course for it.”

Apparently satisfied with the decision, Whitby wandered off to speak to my sail master, leaving me staring at the moon. I got only a few moments of tranquility before footsteps sounded on the stairs that led up to the deck, the chestnut-brown head of hair that preceded the rest of his body immediately recognizable. “I thought I told you to stay in the cabin.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant forever,” Lief said. “I was expecting you to come back.”

He emerged into the moonlight, and I sucked in a breath. It had been a mistake to tell him to shave, because now he had, he looked like the old Lief: far too devastatingly handsome for his own good. He rubbed a hand over his chin. “What do you think?”

“I think,” I said slowly, “that it’s a shame you didn’t wash at the same time.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That crossed my mind, too, but there wasn’t enough water and I figured you wouldn’t be happy with me demanding more.”

I turned to face him, my vow to be nicer to him washed away by the surge of feelings his freshly shaved attractiveness evoked. I held up a hand, and he shook his head. “No.” He backed away a step. “Zephyr, I know that look on your face, and I’m warning you not to do it.”

“Oh, you’re warning me, are you? That sounds interesting. What are you going to do to me if I ignore you?”

“Something nasty.”

“Vague.”

He held up his hand. “Bandages, remember. I shouldn’t get them wet. Or they’ll need to be redone.”

I called on the heavens and let rip, Lief closing his eyes against the onslaught of rain as it soaked him through to the skin. There was laughter from The Navarino’s night crew, who apparently appreciated the sight of their uninvited guest getting a drenching.

To my surprise, once the initial shock had worn off, Lief joined in with the laughter, throwing his head back as the water cascaded over him. Shirt sticking to him and almost translucent, and with laughter bubbling out of him, he looked like a water nymph. He opened his eyes. “Fucking hell, Zeph, have you still not learned how to make rain warm?” His hands went to his shirt buttons, stripping the garment off altogether and dropping it to the deck.

One or two members of my crew stopped any pretense at work as he kicked his boots off and started on the button of his trousers. I could understand the fascination. Lief might have been living in the lap of luxury for the last few years, but it didn’t show on his muscular frame. His trousers and underwear went the same way as his shirt to leave him gloriously naked. He turned, presenting me with a view of his peachy behind as he used his hands to rid himself of the worst of the clinging dirt from weeks of not indulging in much—if anything—in the way of bathing.

Unfortunately, it also presented Hudson and Atley, two of my youngest cabin boys, with a full-frontal view, their mouths dropping open at the sight of Lief’s cock. I closed my hand into a fist and cut off the rain. “Cabin,” I growled. “Now.”

Lief blinked away water droplets from his lashes, goose pimples having broken out on his skin. “You were the one who wanted me to get clean.”

“And now I want you to go back to the cabin.”

He bent, intending to retrieve his clothes, the twitching of my traitorous cock as he inadvertently presented his arse to me, only making me angrier.

“Leave them,” I barked out. “They’ll need to dry in the morning sun.” I waved a hand at Hudson, the closest of the two cabin boys, and he obediently scurried over, glad of the opportunity for a closer look at Lief’s cock.

“Now, Lief,” I said, hoping he could tell from my tone that this wasn’t an occasion when I’d put up with an argument.

It seemed he could tell, turning and making his way back down the stairs buck-naked, but somehow still carrying himself with dignity. I avoided eye contact with my crew as I followed him. By the time he reached the cabin, he was shivering. I slammed the door and then stalked across the room to extract one of my shirts from the trunk on the far side. I threw it his way, Lief catching it and pulling it on.

He paused from fastening the buttons to peer up at me from beneath a dripping wet fringe. “Dare I ask why you’re mad at me? I told you not to do it and you did it, anyway. Yet somehow I’ve ended up being the one in the wrong. I appreciate that my very existence seems to rub you up the wrong way, but this seems like more than that.”

I fixed him with a glare. “You weren’t supposed to put on a strip show.”

A splutter of laughter escaped Lief’s lips. “You wanted me to just stand there in my clothes while you pelted me with freezing cold water?” When I said nothing, he answered his own question. “People bathe naked, Zeph. Times were when you liked me being naked.”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

“Was it?” He cocked his head to one side, his gaze speculative. “Because it seems to me, that the only reason you’re annoyed at me being naked on your deck is because it reminded you that you liked what you saw.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Dream on. I just don’t need my cabin boys corrupted.”




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