Beautiful Tempest Page 57


She slipped out of bed and quietly approached him from behind. His shirt was off. He was briskly rubbing the towel over his head when she grabbed it from his hands. “I’ll do that.”

He immediately turned and faced her, trying to take the towel back. He got his hand on it, but seemed arrested by the sight of her wearing his shirt and nothing else, his eyes moving down to her bare legs.

She tugged the towel back. “I insist.”

She quickly began to rub the towel over his chest before he tried to stop her again. When he didn’t, she slowed down to enjoy what she was doing, moving the cloth over his muscular arms, his neck and shoulders. She didn’t move around him to reach his back, she just stepped closer and swung the towel around him, catching it on his other side so she could slowly tug it back and forth across his back.

“Your boots,” she said a little breathlessly.

He braced an arm against the wall and bent to remove them. She moved the towel to his head again as he did so, caressing him with her fingers through the cloth. Having carte blanche with his body was stimulating her senses, making her crave more. If she couldn’t kiss him soon . . .

He straightened. “I can finish.”

“So can I. Take off your wet trousers.” When he didn’t, she added, “Did you think you were the only one who could give orders? Take them off.”

He still didn’t comply, but he was staring at her in fascination—no, much more than that. Such desire was in his eyes that she could no longer control her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. But she’d surprised him, maybe a little too much. He started to raise his hands to pull her arms down, which surprised her. She held on tighter.

“You don’t need to seduce—”

“I’m Jack Malory, too bold for subtlety.” She kissed him again, more hotly.

All the frustration of wanting him was in that kiss, now that she didn’t have to deny herself anymore. That he was trying to resist compounded that frustration. This was no bloody time for him to be a chivalrous pirate! But then he groaned and lifted her, pressing her back to the wall. She curled her legs around his hips, thrilled that she’d just won this little battle.

Yet he still made one last attempt at gallantry, warning her, “Are you sure, because I’m two seconds from—”

“Shut up, pirate. I’m taking what I want.”

He laughed. “I am so defeated. . . .”

Within seconds they were rolling around on his bed, both trying to rid themselves of the last pieces of their clothing. The buttons on her shirt went flying when he ripped it open. He stopped, looking startled, as his gaze roamed over her naked body before returning to her breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he said, “No chemise, no drawers. You are bold, Jack. And so beautiful.” As his hands moved over her, she worked at the fastenings on his pants and ended up breaking them. At least now she could kiss every part of him within her reach. She couldn’t keep her hands from wandering, either.

But he sighed deeply as he looked down at her. “We’ve done enough ripping. What’s left has to be done slowly.”

“You’re not stopping—?”

“Not a chance. Believe me I’m more eager than you, Jack, but let me ease the way for you.”

Gently he pushed her back down on the bed and began caressing her, which didn’t ease anything and just made her want him now, right now! But she would give him a few minutes to show her what he was talking about because she felt a little too embarrassed to ask when she probably ought to know.

His mouth was so hot on her breasts that she was close to screaming. She did moan. A lot. Yet he was still behaving as if he had all the time in the world now, which was driving her crazy. But then he raised his head and gave her a sensual grin. Finally! she thought. She started to wrap her legs around him again, but he slid down her body until his head was between her thighs and . . . oh . . . my . . . God!

The very moment his mouth touched her there, she felt out of control, her pulse exploding, spreading through her, lifting her hips and leaving her trembling, melted, and so utterly amazed. So that’s what he’d meant? Good grief!

“Now you’re wet for me.”

She was? But she was now replete. Were they really not done? But the moment he climbed on top of her, bracing his arms on either side of her head and moving his hips against hers, she gave him the most brilliant smile. She wanted him again. No, they definitely weren’t done.

Chapter Thirty-Seven


DID WE SLEEP AT all?” Jacqueline wondered aloud the next morning.

Waking up wrapped alongside Damon, lying on her side pressed against his chest, had given her an instant, dreamy smile that hadn’t yet gone away. He hadn’t closed the drapes or turned off the lantern in the room last night. The lantern had burned out and the sun was streaming in. But the sunbeam on the wall was rather high. She had a feeling Mr. Thomson was doing a lot of yawning at the wheel, waiting for Damon to relieve him.

He had one arm across her back, keeping her close to him. His other hand was softly caressing the arm she had draped across his chest, moving from her shoulder to her fingers and back again. She could tell without looking up that he was grinning when he said, “Yes—I think.”

She would have laughed about his not being sure, except she wasn’t sure, either. But they must have slept a little, since she wasn’t tired. She ought to be. It had been a night for education of the nicest sort. In fact, she felt quite energetic and exhilarated with him caressing her as he was doing. She decided she needed another kiss from this man and straddled his hips, grinning widely before she gave him one. He didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, and before she knew it, he was on top of her, kissing her deeply, his hands stroking and exciting her in wonderfully sinful ways. Not until they lay beside each other breathless and satisfied, her not feeling a single regret—definitely her father’s daughter—did she think about Jeremy and how furious he would be.

She sat up abruptly. “Is my brother going to be let out before you’re on deck? The pirates might think he’s escaped.”

“No, Mort doesn’t know about the alliance yet.” With a sigh, likely due to the reminder of her brother, he got up to sit on the side of the bed. “But your brother might be wondering by now why he hasn’t been let out.” Damon leaned down to pick up something on the floor, then handed her a button with an abashed grin. “I’m sorry about your shirt. But I’ve seen you rip up clothes before, so I didn’t think you’d mind.”

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