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“Pirates don’t flirt. We take.” Unexpectedly, he swooped her
up, placing her over his shoulder with care and securing his
arms around her thighs.
Jenny
cried out in surprise but he kept walking, maneuvering his
way through the laughing crowd, past knowing comments. Jenny
couldn’t believe it. She was getting swept off her feet by a
pirate who was patting her bottom and whistling along with
Monster Mash.
How
could anybody whistle along with that?
“What
are you doing?” she laughed, holding on to his belt for dear
life.
[…]
“Whisking you away, milady.” He turned down a hallway, then
another, passed through the kitchen—to the chuckles of the
wait staff—and out the back of the mansion.
He
sure knew his way around the Tarleton estate, didn’t he? Who
was this masked…er…eye-patched man? Giggling so hard she
could hardly breathe—his shoulder pressing into her stomach
didn’t help—she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m
takin’ ya to me ship.”
His
ship?
Away
from the house, the dank night smacked into her, creating
instant goose bumps on her arms. Jenny inhaled the scents of
fall, loving how gently dominant he was being with her.
Gentle being the operative word. Not only did a man have his
hands on her, she was under his power at the
moment—sexually—and didn’t feel a speck of fear. In
contrast, with every long, determined stride he took through
the humid air and over the freshly manicured lawn, her
arousal grew.
One of
his hands slid beneath her dress and grabbed her
stocking-covered bottom. “Almost there, milady.”
“Your
ship?” She nuzzled against him, hugging his back, wondering
if she was certifiably insane for letting some stranger
carry her off to his “ship”.
His
ship.
Or rather…Mr. Tarleton’s boat moored out back.
Happy Halloween to me.
Jack’s
heavy boots clanked on the dock. The moisture coming off Sag
Harbor created heavy fog in the air, wrapping the fantasy
around her.
A
thrill shot through Jenny, from her blood-heavy head and
toes to her up-in-the-air ass. Forget the pearl g-string,
her pirate was the most arousing thing she’d ever come into
contact with. His searching fingers had just encountered the
strand of beads centered below the lacey waistband and were
slowly exploring…
This
had to be the most romantic, titillating thing to ever
happen in her life, by far.
Thank
you, Captain Jack Sparrow.
His
shoulder suddenly shifted as he stepped onto the luxury
yacht and rolled her off, placing her on her feet. Her
balance wavered and she grabbed his arm, playing her role to
the hilt. “Captain, you dastard. Stealing me away.” She
couldn’t wait to thank him. “Whatever will you do with me?”
Light
from the big house spilled out onto the lawn. Overhead, a
lamp from the dock cast them in shadow as he guided her
along the softly wobbling deck. “Aye. I’ll be thinkin’ of
several hundred things, I’m sure.”
The
sounds of the party could he heard in the distance,
conversation and music blending to cover anything they might
want to do aboard their own private sexual fantasy boat.
“Tell
me, Miss Candy Corn.” At one end of the deck, Captain
Sparrow bracketed her waist and easily swung her onto the
upper level of the stern. He took the steps and came up
behind her just as she placed her hands on the polished
wheel. He slipped one finger beneath the homemade strands
adorning her neck. “Are ye a tease?”
His
touch came perilously close to the exposed portion of her
breasts. Jenny remained silent, curious how far he’d go.
He
didn’t disappoint. One long finger edged right over her
nipple. “Umm.”
“Methinks the lady is acting like a bit of a tease.”
“Youthinks?”
His accent really was deplorable. Adorable.
And if his damn finger teased
her nipple any longer...
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