A Most Unusual Interest | By : Nemain Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 5187 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A Most Unusual Interest Chapter Thirty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather is wondermous, lol. And sorry this took so long, y’all! RL is evil!!!
The night was
slightly chilly, as chilly as it could be for the tropics, and Myrtle was
wet. “Jack,” she hissed in the darkness,
the sound of chaos still rising from the quay, “are you allergic to dry land?”
“A bit,” he
shrugged, slipping nearly silently through the hip-dip water of the narrow
inlet. “And besides, this is faster than
the streets, dove. And less likely to
get us caught.”
She bit her
tonon fon further commentary, sorely wishing her underthings
were wool instead of cotton. The water
was far colder than she expected and something, she hoped it was a crab,
pinched her leg as she sloshed behind the shadowy figure of the pirate before
her. She bit her lip, feeling marginally
guilty for thinking such thoughts about Jack, the kind that made her feel all
hot and flushed and made her insides quiver a little at the memory of how he
looked above her, how his hands felt on her…
Myrtle shook herself, letting the cold seem into her bones. It was almost as if Jack was two different
men. Three, she corrected. The cavalier
pirate, the lover and this serious man, the one who seemed to be smart and
brave and know just what to do in every situation… She felt the blush creeping up her
cheeks. _Damn it, _ she swore inwardly,
_you’re infatuated, you bint! _ She gasped in surprise as Jack’s hand
closed around her wrist and tugged.
“Sorry,
dove… I thought you’d gone deaf on me. Careful of the footing.
Seems slick.”
He turned, his teeth glinting in the moonlight in a quick smile, and
began clambering silently up the steep bank.
Myrtle
muttered under her breath and sank her fingers into the dark, sandy soil,
hoping she did not stick her fingers into something’s home. After several minutes of struggle as Jack
looked down at her, his hands on his hips and nubt ubt smiling, “A hand,
please?” she hissed, the wet sand squelching under her fingers. She nearly cried out in surprise as she felt
his strong fingers around her wrists before she was unceremoniously lifted to
the banks, falling back on her bottom in unbalanced surprise. “Jack!”
“Shhh,” he
cautioned, his eyes narrowed to obsidian slits in the moonlight. “We’re being watched.”
“What? How?” She half-turned before she could stop herself, but
Jack ged ged her towards the nearest tree and pinned her between it’s trunk and his chest.
“What’re you doing?” she demanded sotto voce.
“Pirate,
love,” he murmured, leaning close and smiling faintly. “I’m a wanted man.” He inclined his head in what was a subtle
homage to his usual bow before pressing even more firmly against her. He watched the night past the tree, looking
into the shadows for the flicker of movement he had seen moments before. All was still. Myrtle’s heart thudded against her chest so
hard he could feel it through their clothes and flesh, but he did not flatter
himself in thinking it was merely because of his presence. He knew she was scared, as well she should
be, and that she was probably more than a little eager to show that she could
take care of herself, that she could be a good pirate. “As long as I live,” he said softly, his eyes
scanning the low scrub by the inlet, “I’ll never understand you. Not just because you confound me regularly.”
“Pirate
notion?” she asked equally softly, staring at his Adam’s apple. Her hands had come to rest on his sides, just
above his hip bones. His breath was against
her ear and his coconut-lime-salt-rum scent was mingling with hers, imbuing her
senses with him. _Stop it, _ she ordered
herself. _Stop it right this instant.
_ She sighed and tilted her face up, to
better whisper and keep her voice low as she started to tell him that they should start moving if he did not see
anything; she found herself staring straight into Jack’s eyes as he looked down
at her. “Jack,” she murmured again,
unsure of what was about to happen. She
chided herself, reminding herself that this man had seen her naked and done
things to her she had not thought possible given her past, but still she could
not stop the rush of blood to her face and the hitch in her breath as he
lowered his face to hers.
Jack did
not close his eyes as he kissed Myrtle, instead wondering at the simplicity of
the embrace. She did not kiss him like Scarlett or
even Anna Maria. She did not demand something from him in return. Instead, she stood there, her fingers
tightening only slightly on his waist, her lips parted just enough to
tantalize. The shadows beyond them
stayed still, no movement bespeaking r war watcher. Almost unwillingly, Jack
found his hands against her breasts, palming the soft, rounded mounds of flesh
and their stiffening peaks. Myrtle
gasped a little but did not pull away as his fingers found their way inside the
neckline of her clothing, his hips pressing against her stomach, his arousal
quickly becoming obvious.
“Jack,” she
breathed, bing ing away just a little, “Richard…”
He took a
deep breath and stepped back. “Right. But,” he said
in a tone that brooked no argument, “we need to talk later…”
Their
watcher waited until they were several yards ahead on the narrow trail used by
locals, leading to the port town itself.
Their shadows overlapped, becoming one even as the lurking spy emerged
from the brush and started after them.
It would be a long night, but at the end would be answers and death.
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