Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1) (28 page)

Attempting to catch my breath after gazing upon his body, I shook my head and took a step back.
Sterling looked me up and down with a saucy smile and a wink. “Ye make a mighty fine pirate, Charlie Bentley.”

From Faron’s place on the floor he added, “Prettiest one I ever seen. Now ye got the keys to get us outta here, or what?”

“No I don’t. I was only told to watch you while the men fight through the storm.”

He yawned, “We’ll figure it out after me nap. Oh, and tell those soft handed scallywags they be doing a shitten job sailing me ship.” Faron closed his eyes but Pete carried on. “If only they fought that battle as weak as they be fightin’ this storm.”

The imprisoned men began to fuss over their loss in the battle, shocking me with the gruesome things they had endured and surprising me with their easy expression of the horrific acts of war. There were a few mentions made about Oliver and his bow, so I told them about the way he took over when Willard Smith backed out of his command. They all laughed and asked if Willard was keeping the deck sanded to the captain’s liking. I was surprised to hear them speak so complimentary of the man who was holding them captive.

I had already met Pete and Marin, but
Sterling had not introduced me to the other man in the cell. I whispered to ask who he was and Sterling laughed, “Aye, ye’d think I was raised at sea, with me missing of manners.”

He called the man over to the bars, and to mock his mentioned lack of etiquette, he introduced us with a proper English accent. “Mister Shark, this is my lovely woman, Miss Charlie. Miss Charlie, this is Mister Shark.”

The intimidating man kissed my hand and smiled, showing what was left of his teeth. “Aye, so this be the fearsome Charlie Bentley. Ye make a lucky man out of this ugly dog.” He elbowed Sterling in the gut and headed back over to his spot on the floor.

Marin and Pete were arm wrestling on the ground, and Shark looked to be passing out like Faron, leaving
Sterling and me as alone as we could be in such cramped quarters. 

He stuck his hands through the grate and wrapped his arms around my waist, immensely increasing the beat of my heart. He pulled me close, and even with the bars between us, I felt his energy penetrate my body and flow straight into my soul.

“Oh, I missed you so Sterling. It felt like a million years.”

With that smile I adored, he agreed, and though I thought he was going to say something sweet, he roughly rubbed his hand through what was left of my hair and teased, “Where’d yer hair go?”

Putting my hat back on, I told him about my stowaway adventure. He listened with wide eyes and when I finished he laughed. “Glad to see ye putting good use to me last name.” While I blushed at his compliment, he poked at my pistol. “So where the hell did ye get those guns that ye shoot so well?”

Remembering the way he looked at me when I was reloading my gun, I was sure he’d be pleased to hear about my lessons. I quickly blustered over my situation with
Lawrence, but my eyes widened with thrill as I told him about my time on the range. He was hardly amused. Looking at me with his eyebrow cocked, insinuating his irritation, he muddled, “Ye like that man?”

Though I was hurt by his lack of interest in my story, the accusation underlining his tone led me to believe he was jealous. I kind of liked it, but I wanted to assure him there was nothing to worry about. Putting my hands on his cheeks, I asserted, “Look at me, Sterling Bentley. If I wanted that life I would be there now. I want you more than anything I have ever desired, and I have never fought so hard to have anything. Don’t ever doubt my love for you.”

Glad to feel his tension release, I rubbed the smooth skin between his mouth and his sideburns. “I am glad you don’t grow a full face beard,” then I traced around his new scar.  “Tell me, how did you get this scar, Sterling?”

The mark started under his eye and the rough healing skin slashed down his cheek. He slipped his palm under
neath mine and rubbed the wound with the back of his hand. “I got in a fist fight that turned into a sword fight. Let’s just say this scar will forever remind me where I belong.”

I was confused by his riddle, so I squinted with curiosity, but rather than responding he kissed me on the lips; easily distracting me with the sweetness of his gesture.

The gray-blue light of the stormy day shone in through the gunshot hole in the wall, and the ship roughly tumbled over the rolling wake as we talked. While the salty mist of the sea scented the dingy room, I absorbed Sterling’s aroma. It was a salty mix of sweat and blood, but somehow he wore the rugged elements well.

Reaching in my bag I smiled at him. “I have something for you. Well, more for me, but here.”

I opened the bottle of sandalwood oil and dabbed some on his neck. Leaning in close to smell the oil blending with his pheromones, my senses came unraveled. He rubbed his hand through my hair and laughed at me. “Yer somethin’ else, Charlie. Chasin’ me across the ocean just to make sure I smell good.”

I fanned my hand through his tangled mess of hair. “If only I had brought a comb.”

He wrapped his hands around my waist, and while rubbing up and down my back he inquired with a smile, ‘So did ye hear about what happened at yer neighbor’s house?”

He confirmed the truth in all I had heard and I thanked him for saving my friend Maureen.

He laughed as if to downsize his heroism. “Of course I protected her. Me father told me thar was a special place in hell for men that hurt woman and children, and that it was a man’s God given duty to protect them. Among all the shitten things I’ve done in my life, I can tell ye I’ve never done harm to either, nor ‘ave I ever let any other man do so in me presence.”

Constantly impressing me with his intense duality, I figured I would never know a dull moment by his side. We could talk for so long, and his expressions were so vibrant, bringing out the life in me I always had to repress. I was able to be my true self with him and I wanted to be his lovely woman for the rest of my life.

As Sterling told me about his journey, I found myself awed by the intensity of nature and impressed by the strength and endurance the men had to manage such extremes. Laughing about James’ timid take at piracy, I felt as if I came to know him along the way, and I laughed about Pete’s exaggerated tale of The Kraken.

I had forgotten there was anyone else in the world until Pete interjected, “Aye, ye Bentleys won’t be laughin’ when The Kraken be after you.”

Sterling went on to tell me about the failure of an invasion and the success of the mutiny, but when he told me about James’ passing, I nearly cried. “No. That can’t be true. I liked James.”

The heartbreaking news of James Thornton’s fate reiterated the dangers of this life at sea and reminded me how fragile life was altogether. Wincing at the sadness in my eyes,
Sterling moved on to tell me about the victory, and I allowed myself the distraction of imagining how great those few days in between battles must have been.

When he started telling me about
Tortuga, I couldn’t help but ask. ‘So, were you true to me, Sterling?”

He easily responded. “Of course I was.”

“Were you tempted to break your promise?”

He squinted with offense. “Why would ye ask me that?”

“I’m just curious. I heard the men talking about the kind of women there, and I figured you might have run into some of them.”

He looked up and exhaled in a way that worried me then proceeded to tell me about Nadine. My heart filled with fiery jealousy and I once again felt the urge to grab a woman by the hair. “How dare she! Did she put her filthy hands on you? I have half a mind to row a dinghy to
Tortuga and ring her pretty little neck.”

He laughed, “Calm yer nerves, woman. I didn’t go with her. I got slapped in the face with a Bible verse that reminded me to keep me sense.”

He told me about the preaching man in the alley and I haughtily suggested, “Perhaps you should have that verse tattooed on your hand so you can slap yourself in the face with it next time you’re tempted to betray me.”

He laughed again. “Yer sassy mood arouses me, Charlie.” Biting on his lip with a low rumbling growl, I rolled my eyes. “How dare you laugh at me when I’m upset.”

It was terribly difficult for me to act snide after he made that face, but I stood there with my arms crossed, determined to make my point.

He smiled as he assured, “I just like watching ye get all fired up fer me. But don’t worry. It was me memory of ye that kept me away from that wench, and this bewitching spell ye cast upon me soul will keep me clear of all the women on the map.”

I lifted a wicked eyebrow. “Bewitching spell?”

His handsome face lifted with a smile far more genuine than his ridiculous words. “Pure sorcery, I tell ye.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

He pulled me back over to him and asked, “Ye still mad at me, or can I kiss ye now?”

Looking behind him to see his mates sleeping like drunkards strung out across an alleyway, and I smiled. “You can kiss me now.”

So he did. My fantasies could never live up to the reality of his true touch. Wanting to touch him too, I reached through the bars, moved my hands into his tattered coat, and felt around on the bare skin of his back. While feeling the impressions of his battle scars, I pulled him closer to me, damning the bars between us.

Moving my hands around his sides and over his chest, my soft feminine palms absorbed the pounding of his heartbeat. The earthy electricity ran through my arms and flowed straight to my heart. As imagined, his chest muscles were hard, but his skin was surprisingly smooth. I moved my hands lower. The feel of his flat and solid abdomen left me burning to know what lay further down.

Sterling
broke the kiss and rumbled a playful whisper in my ear. “Is this why ye sliced me coat, Charlie?”

Laughing at his comment, I opened my eyes to find his gaze completely locked with mine. His green eyes tugged at my soul the same way the horizon called for a sailor. I wanted to keep him forever, and I wanted so much more than his kiss. He enticed my senses with the most promiscuous thoughts, and with nothing but the bars keeping me from him, I tickled my fingers down his chest until I reached the brim of his breeches. My heart beat so loud in my ears that I could hardly hear the rain pouring on the ocean.

He kissed on my neck, stunning me with the heaviness of his breath. Big and strong as he was, I was unraveling him with my dainty touch. I reveled in the sensual power until he devoured me with his. Moving his rugged hands down my back, he grabbed onto my backside with an unexpected might. Nearly lifting me off the floor he pulled me up against the bars and every muscle that shaped his powerful arms surrounded me with an intense and protective shield. The ferocity behind his grope reminded me how tiny I was, and as he slid his hot hands up and down the back of my thighs, I wondered how in the world there could be more passion than this.

Just in time to cool the insatiable heat, the misty splash of a wave dashed in through the hole in the wall. Enough water had made its way in to leave a puddle of salty water on the wooden floor, and the unsteady maneuvers of the ship caused
Sterling to step away from me. Pacing the tiny perimeter of his cell with an irritated scowl, he growled, “Those clay-brained land lubbers are gonna capsize me ship.”

The jolting maneuvers of the shivering timbers must have awoken Captain Flynn, for without opening his eyes he mumbled, “Maybe we’ll get a lucky potshot through the wall of our cell so we can bust out and sail this ship right.”

The men laughed at the thought of a potshot being lucky, and they joked about how it worked out for Morley.

Sterling
was well out of my reach by the time Paul Redding came rushing down the gangway. Paul’s black coat was dripping wet, and his short brown hair was soaked and stuck to the side of his face. The burly man yelped in a state of urgency. “Captain Langston demands the navigator on deck.”

Two other men ran down behind him and held the prisoners at gunpoint as they unlocked the cell to let
Sterling out. Without batting an eye Captain Flynn grumbled, “Least them lubbin deckhands have some sense. Sail me ship well, Bentley.”

I locked the cell behind the men that dragged
Sterling out, and once his hands were cuffed, they pushed him towards the gangway. With the prisoners cheering for Sterling’s opportunity to sail, Paul patted me on the back. “Good shift mate, I’ll be taking watch now. Take the keys to the captain.”

As I followed behind the men, I heard Paul Redding cursing at the prisoners in their cell.

Reaching the deck to see dark cloudy skies, pouring rain and rumbling waves, my first instinct was to be afraid. The dark and fearful wake swelling around the brim of the ship was quite terrifying, but I forced myself to be brave. Bracing my weight to keep rhythm with the bobbing deck, my heart bounced between my gut and my throat. The ship lifted up and pounded down over the sloppy swells so harshly, I could very easily have lost my balance, but I helped the men push Sterling across the deck without more than a mild stumble.

Once we reached the captain, we were all completely drenched from the pouring rain. He hollered to
Sterling through the roaring sounds of the weather. “Can you help us sail the ship out of this storm?”