“No!” I yell, kicking my leg over the side of the tank.
The wooden frame creaks and groans as I hoist my body over the lip. My right boot absorbs the putrid water. Bracing each knee against the ledge, I rip off my holsterand leather duster. Hat be damned, but a water-logged pistol is useless to anyone. Before my items hit the floor, my upper half dives into the murky water. I gather my lady love in my arms.
So light and delicate in her human form…did her ribs always stick out like this? They didn’t the last time I held her Kraken body. I memorized every inch of her. Pressing her chest to chest, I feel every knob and ridge of her skeleton. I doubt she’s eaten much in the last few weeks while I scoured the seas for her. My hand cradles her head to my shoulder, wishing her breath teased my neck.
I topple over the side, landing on my dry left boot. Bettina shoves the show’s master backward so I have space to lay Sabs flat on her back. I press her belly up and under her ribs in an old waterlogging remedy. Half me hearties owe their life to this maneuver, for all greenhorns seem to struggle with stayingonthe boat. If only it would save Sabs. She gurgles with each thrust, so I turn her head to the side. Her sister removes a pin from her hair to pick the locks on the weights holding her wrists and ankles.
“Come on, love,” I whisper as water dribbles from the corner of her mouth. “Come back to sass me. Nobody will keep me in line if my last memory of you turns me into a monster.”
“She’s dead,” shouts the show’s owner. “You owe me her worth…and the tent…and what I paid those worthless patrolmen. I’ll see you hanged for this!”
“No, you won’t,” I say, whipping my pistol from where it lies in its holster on the ground beside me. The hole in his forehead smokes as his eyes roll toward it. I raise my elbow to catch him before he can fall onto Sabs. Bettina removes the last weight but can’t seem to remove the collar. There’s a locking mechanism in the ring instead of a lock hanging off of it. We need the specific tool they used to fasten the collar around Sabs’s neck…or Chub’s machete.
“There’s no time,” I whisper to her. My crew must weigh anchor before the mele in the streets breaches our perimeter. “Back to the ship! Back to the ship!”
I throw Sabs over my shoulder—hopefully, the position will continue to drain her as we run to safety. Chub and Catalina lead us with sword points forward. We’re flanked by former captives and my pirates as we scuttle toward the docks. My focus is straight ahead.Patricia’s Wishsits at the end of the dock. Her sails unfurl as her anchor rises from the deep. Greenhorn stands by the railing’s edge with the gangplank resting on his shoulder.
With one arm wrapped around my lady’s naked arse and my other brandishing my sword, I engage withsoldiers wearing more finery than I thought existed. Where did these rich mollies come from? If it isn’t their brass-handled swords that fail, it’s the hands I slice off with my heavy, iron sword. Best item I’ve ever stolen! We drip water from the show’s former tent to the harbor. The moans of my lady love as she recovers harden my sugarstick and hobble my gait to our boat.
Blimey, now is not the time! Why is it that every time I hold this wench, I feel the need to ink my quill in her? I thought she was dead a few minutes ago. There’s something to this soulbond she’s not telling me. I’m a bastard who knows every brothel’s madam in the Caribbean on a first-name basis, but fighting my way off an island with my cock half-mast is a new development.
There’s something about my magnificent lady love.
“Let them all aboard unless they’re firing at you,” I shout at Greenhorn as I leap onto the boat. The momentum slams Sabrina’s belly onto my shoulder. She shites through her teeth down my back. Avast ye, not even her flashing the hash on me cools my passion.
“Aye, aye,” he replies as he drops the gangplank. He grunts when Chub throws Catalina into his arms. The pair stumble backward but maintain their footing.
“Chub, get us on open water,” I yell over my clean shoulder.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” he yells as he runs by me to the helm.
“You’re alive if you can paint my back with your innards,” I say as we cross the deck to the captain’s quarters. I kick the double doors open and help them close behind us. They muffle the chaos on deck to a dull roar.
“Sorry” is music to my ears. I flip her onto her back hard enough she bounces off the sheets. I take her jaw in my hands and claim her mouth as my own. My open-mouthed kisses migrate down her body as my greedy hands check for injuries. She’s thin, with knots in her arm muscles where they must have yanked her around. Her skin chafes under the metal collar she still wears.
“Stop, I taste gross,” she whines in a breathless tone that sets me ablaze.
“All right, Sabs—” I pause and sit up because the beaming smile she gives me when I call her by her nickname takes my breath away “—you win this time. If death can’t keep my cock deflated, we will have a hell of a time getting acquainted.”
“Acquainted?”
“Yes,” I say, running my sparse fingers through her hair because I can’t help touchingher. “You say we’re soulmates. Our attraction is incredible, but I’d like to be friends too. I want to dance with you on deck, introduce you to me hearties, and watch the sunrise.”
“I never took you for a romantic,” she replies, squirming under my gaze. I lift the bed’s black coverlet, a remnant of the vampiress who decorated the room, over Sabrina’s shivering body. Her sigh of contentment as she snuggles warms my heart.
“I am romantic, fun, hilarious—”
“Humble?” The twist of her lips and the flash of sass in her eyes threaten to turn the contents of my britches to stone.
“Never humble,” I say with a chuckle. “A humble captain will acquire a blackspot in his first days on the job. You are only as powerful as the stories say you are. That power is what keeps your crew believing they will live through the trials of the sweet trade—hurricanes, boat damage, sickness, engaging with prizes, and the trials of everyday life on the ship. I swear, someone flies off the rigging and into the drink every damn day.”
“They do,” she replies with a giggle. “I’ve pushed many of their arses to the surface in the years I followed your boat.”
“Why didn’t you say somethingto get my attention? All those years lost—”
“I hated you.” Ouch, there’s a dagger to me heart.
“Oh,” is all I can say.
