“Is that why you called me yours?” Her words sounded a little garbled because she’d already begun brushing her teeth. “Like a caveman thing, ‘ug, me man, you mouse, ugh, ugh,’” she spit, poured a cup of water, then swished it around her mouth before spitting again.
“I suppose that makes as much sense as anything else. At our core, we are a brutal lot. Coin, women, liquor, that is what drives us. To keep the best you must be the best. In many ways this is the jungle, eat or be eaten.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Tell me, Hook.” She slipped her hair over her shoulder and then latching onto the zipper on her back, slowly drew it down. Making his blood hum in anticipation. “Have you ever made anyone walk the plank?”
The front of his breeches strained as his cock grew heavy, but he didn’t try to conceal it from her. Grabbing the hem of the dress, she pulled it down her creamy white shoulders.
“Many times,” he said in a voice grown rough.
Cupping her breasts with one arm, so that the gown caught on it and didn’t fall to the ground, she smiled. “And have you ever killed someone?”
Why was she asking him these questions? Not that he minded, not really, but it made him wonder. “Do you believe I could be a pirate and not kill someone, little bird? Are you as na?ve as all that? Or do you hope that I’m not truly so wicked? Because I’m quite vile, I can assure you.”
She bit the corner of her lip and moved her arm. The dress puddled at her feet. His breathing hitched and when she shrugged, her breasts lifted enticingly. The red bra strained against the fullness of it. Judging by the sparkle in her eyes, the minx knew exactly what she doing.
He smiled.
“I’m many things, Hook, na?ve isn’t one of them. I just like to know the true measure of a person, especially when that person will be sharing my bed.”
The words that spilled out her mouth, she toyed with him, speaking in double meanings. “My bed,” he growled.
She shrugged, then hooked her fingers underneath her bra latch and undid it, and again wrapped her arms around her breasts. The straps slid down her shoulders.
His tongue grew thick, his mouth dry as he waited impatiently for her to reveal herself. He’d guess pink, bright pink little rosebuds.
“Semantics,” she laughed, and then grabbing the night shift she’d laid next to her, turned her back to him. Only then did she let the bra drop.
“Bloody hell, woman,” he snarled, slamming his hand over his eyes. His cock straining so hard against the seam of his trousers as to be uncomfortable, he adjusted himself. “You are a tease.”
“And so are you, my friend. Fair is fair, no?”
When he finally uncovered his eyes, she was dressed again. A satin gown fell to her ankles in a shimmering shade of pale blue. Her skin almost seemed to glow.
The gown, just like the dress, fit her like a glove. The woman had the type of curves a man could hang onto. Squaring her shoulders, she walked back to the bed with purpose in her steps, then lifting a fine brow, drew her side of the sheets down and slid in.
The silence stretched loud between them, his smile curving higher and higher as the realization dawned that while she appeared nonchalant, she was also nervous. He could tell by the way she constantly wet her lips.
Belly laughter spilled from his tongue. “I will not bite, Trishelle.”
She scoffed. “Oh please, I’m not scared of you. I’m just…well, I’m not used to actually sleeping with guys. If they’re in my bed it’s for one reason only and the second I’m done they’re gone.”
“Heartless,” he teased, though he was no different. He’d never even slept with Talia, not in the way he was now with Trishelle. She’d needed to remain in water during the night, otherwise she’d dry out.
She shrugged. “Less messy.”
He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his fist, tapping his hook on the spot between them. “In truth, I am the same way.”
Rolling to face him, she nodded, and then gave a half chuckle.
“We, neither of us give our hearts easily,” he commented, not sure why he was being so honest and open with her. But it was easy to do; sometimes it felt like he’d known her forever. Like he could tell her anything, and knowing she was soon to leave, it made it even easier. Because she could hold none of his words against him.
“Well at least you’ve given your heart. I never have, don’t think I ever will.”
“It is a rather painful process I hope never to experience again,” he agreed.
Her eyes took on a faraway gleam as she stared over his shoulder. “Yeah,” she said, and the sound of that one word trembled with so much pain it pierced through his chest like a barb. He waited for her to smile, to shrug it off as she so often did, but she just continued to stare at the wall, lost to the thoughts in her head.