Hook's Pan (Kingdom, #5)

He was just starting to drift off when she spoke.

“You don’t have to sleep on that you know.”

“I didn’t know you were awake.”

She smiled. “I might sleep hard, but I wake up when I hear a door open. You don’t have to sleep on that chair,” she said again.

“Are you offering to share?”

Trisha sat up on her elbow and stuck out her tongue. With her hair curling up around her face and sleep still in her eyes, she was one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen. “Why are you smiling?” Her green, cat shaped eyes narrowed.

Licking his teeth, he settled his legs back on the carpet. “Because I told you you’d be begging.”

“Oh my god, did you just make a joke?” Her lips tipped into a sexy curl. “Just, ugh…” she patted the bed, scooting over, “if you promise to control your baser instincts, you can share my bed.”

“My bed, woman,” he growled in the back of his throat, deciding on the spur of the moment it might be fun to test her limits. Gathering the shirt, he drew it over his head and tossed it to the ground.

Immediately the smile on her face died and her eyes glazed over. Smirking, he shucked his boots off and then began to tug on the laces of his breeches.

“What exactly are you wearing underneath those pants, Hook?”

“Nothing. At. All.” Drink had loosened his tongue, made him playful and he didn’t fight it. Didn’t really see the need to. He was enjoying this woman, more than he’d thought he would, or even should.

Swallowing hard, she held up a hand. “Better leave that on then, don’t think my ticker can stand anymore hotness. As it is your abs nearly made my eyes melt in their sockets. And by the way, how the hell do you manage to stay so ripped on a boat? You do pilates too?”

Whatever pilates was, he’d only understood half her question, but it was easy enough to decipher the gist of it. He flexed the muscles on his stomach, pretending he hadn’t a clue what she meant.

A strange sound spilled from her lips. “You jerk. Fine, you want to hear me say it, you’re smokin’. I’m still not gonna fall in love with you, and I’m probably not gonna have sex with you. Probably.”

He laughed, a habit he was beginning to develop around her. “Probably? Mmm, progress.” Pulling his hand away from his laces, he shrugged. “I can wait. Now, go to the chest and find something more comfortable for bed.”

“The dress is fine.”

“You ordered me to the bed, I’m ordering you to dress appropriately.”

“Oh really,” her voice rose in pitch, challenge clearly ringing in her words, “fine. I’ll find something.”

Trading places, he leaned against his pillows, crossing his arms behind his head as he watched her walk to the trunk.

She’d been confidant earlier, but unless a whore, women tended to get shy at this point. Coquettish glances and sly smiles belonged on a dance floor, not in the bedroom, which was why he’d stopped pursuing proper ladies decades ago. They bored him.

Trishelle, cracked open the lid. “Does this thing pass out toothbrushes too?”

His lips quirked.

“Oh shut up,” she snapped, “I know what you’re thinking. I don’t want to brush my teeth for you, I personally don’t enjoy walking around with sleep breath.”

Raising his hands, he shook his head. “I said nothing.”

“Your smile said it all. I told you, Hook, it’s not happening.”

His balls drew up at the mere thought of caressing her peach hued skin, of running his tongue along her nipples. Would they be pink or brown, large or small? He licked his lips, she’d invited him to the bed, could she blame him for the places his mind walked? “The trunk will give you what you wish.”

Cheeks flushed rosy; she looked inside its empty hull. “This thing just keeps getting better and better. I’m surprised you’d keep it here, wouldn’t this be a beacon for any thief? Surely you don’t trust every man aboard this ship?”

Sinking to her knees, she bent over the chest and whispered words he could not hear. A flash of light surrounded her, then a pile of fabric and a tube of paste and brush appeared. Snatching up her items, she scanned the room.

“There’s a basin and pitcher of water there.” He pointed at the hatch in the wall.

“Thanks,” she smiled, taking a hop step toward the wall.

“As to your question,” he wiggled his toes, enjoying the sight of a woman performing ablutions, “I trust them so far as I can. I trust them to set sail where I command, to fight, and to seek coin. But even I am not fool enough to believe they don’t plot against me or mine. Aboard this ship only the fiercest survive.”