Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
From a small sea chest, I removed a bottle of odoriferous water I’d bought from an apothecary some months ago. Removing the cork, I doused my hands and ran them over the shirt. The aroma of clove oil, rosemary, and cinnamon reached my nose, subtle yet strong enough to dilute the scent of orange.
That done, I scrubbed my hands until every trace of pulp was removed from my fingers and nails. Then I made my way to Priest.
At the hatchway to the bilge, I paused, breathed deeply, and gathered my strength.
Yesterday I left him seething with the uncertainty of whether I would return or who I might return with. If my visit today didn’t produce the compass, I would have no choice but to come back with a crewmate and make good on my pledge to fuck another. Probably Reynolds.
But I couldn’t think about that right now. Couldn’t let myself get dragged into the anguish of doing something so shitten.
I needed this to work. If I angered Priest badly enough, he would surrender what I needed and be finished with me.
I can do this.
Cold, hard purpose soaked into my muscles, immersing the panic as I opened the hatch and descended. At the bottom of the ladder, I stood tall and turned slowly.
His silvery gaze grabbed me from across the dim space, arrowing in on his shirt. I wore nothing beneath the white linen, and though it wasn’t transparent, it didn’t hide the shape of my nipples or the curves of my form. His gaze feasted on every dip, lowered to where the fabric brushed my knees, and rose to my eyes.
My heart thundered uncomfortably as we stared at each other.
I felt it then, had prepared myself for it—the mysterious, knee-weakening alchemy that simmered in the air between us.
His beautiful face beckoned, the cast of his hard jaw and chiseled mouth exquisite in the flickering shadows. His bare chest flexed with slabs of muscle, his arms straining with enough power to steady two heavy matchlock guns. Or the weight of my body as he pounded me against the wall.
Yes, I was undeniably attracted to him. But the connection went so much deeper. When he exhaled, my lungs gulped. When he swallowed, my mouth dried. When he blinked, my entire body stilled. And it wasn’t just me.
Everything I did—every breath, heart beat, and word—resulted in consequences and obligations for him. If I ran, he would follow. If I died, he would grieve. If I kissed him, he would harden, lengthen, and groan.
It had been a series of mutual actions that bound us together, and it would take a single concerted blow to permanently tear us apart.
Without breaking eye contact, I put one foot before the other and began an unhurried approach.
Surprise flashed in his gaze, his body stiff with suspicion. He’d expected me to torture him with infidelity, not return to him alone, wearing only his shirt, and stepping within arm’s reach.
He sat with his back against the wall and legs stretched out before him, frozen. His mouth opened, possibly to ask what I was doing. But it snapped shut as he regarded me, seemingly finding the answer in my expression.
Desire flushed my skin, and I parted my lips. Tiny spasms overwhelmed the juncture of my legs, his shirt pulling across my breasts with my quickening breaths. I let him see every reaction he roused in me—my hunger, my vulnerability, the endless ache to mate with no one but my husband.
My body would give me the leverage I needed with him. If not today, then with another man in front of him. I counted on that. And dreaded it.
A water bucket for washing sat near his foot. I kicked it, sending it skidding and sloshing out of the reach of his chain. Then I stepped over him and planted my bare feet on either side of his hips.
His hands instantly went to my ankles, sparking a delicious fever across my skin as they slid upward, caressing the backs of my calves, behind my knees, and beneath the hem of the shirt.
Heat rolled off him in waves, his gaze never leaving mine. A lump constricted my airway, and my strength abandoned me.
I sank onto his lap, straddling him, and God help me, he felt like home.
He gripped the laces of the shirt and hauled me into him, angling for my lips. I turned my head, and his mouth caught the corner of mine, lingering, panting soundlessly.
Neither of us moved, stunned by the excruciating touch. Or perhaps fearful the slightest shift would sever it.
Heart pulsations beat by. His exhales soaked my lips. My hands locked on his shoulders. Rock-hard thighs supported my bottom, and his shirtless torso pressed in, making me warm all over.
He rested his brow against mine, and our noses slid together, side by side, affectionately nudging.