Her Very Strict Captain

by Carpenter, Maggie

  “Rub yourself,” he grunted, quickening his pace and soaking in the intense sensations.

  As her hand dropped from the tile wall and massaged her clit, her whimpers and moans quickly became gasps and cries. He gradually accelerated, his eyes fixated on his rod snaking in and out of her dusky portal.

  “I’m almost there,” she suddenly wailed, unexpectedly bucking back at him. “Please, Sir…?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  His fingers digging into her skin, he urgently pumped himself into his climax, surrendering to wave after scintillating wave as they rippled through his body…

  * * *

  Barely having the energy to dry off, they padded from the bathroom and collapsed into bed. Snuggling against him, Elizabeth let out an exhausted sigh, but she couldn’t rest.

  “Scott…?”

  “I know that tone. Something’s on your mind. Tell me.”

  “Uh… it’s what you didn’t say.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When we made love and you weren’t wearing a condom, you were about to say something and changed your mind. At least, I think that’s what happened. Am I wrong?”

  “No, you’re not wrong.”

  “So…?” She heard him take a breath.

  “I’d been waiting—saving that experience—skin against skin…” he continued hesitantly, “for you…”

  Hearing the unspoken—the woman I fell in love with—a rush of emotion sent heat to the back of her throat.

  “I love you too, with everything in me,” she managed, breathing the words. Their lips met. The lingering, loving kiss sealing their bond. Finally breaking apart, she whispered, “I have a secret too.”

  Though he didn’t speak, his eyes narrowed.

  “Scott, I’m not on birth control, I’ve had no reason to be. I almost asked you to be careful… you know… pull out.”

  “But…?”

  “But I realized if I did get pregnant I’d be thrilled. The thing is, I’ve never felt that way about anyone—and I do mean anyone,” she added pointedly, then taking a breath, she nervously murmured, “If I was, would that be a bad thing?”

  His lips parted, as if he was about to speak, then curled into a smile.

  “I’m a planner,” he began, speaking softly, “but a miracle like that could never be a bad thing, not in a million years, and I’m never wearing a condom again, so…”

  “So I’ll take care of the birth control thing.”

  “Until then, I have no problem rolling that dice.”

  “Neither do I,” she said, a wave of joy rippling through her soul.

  “Now it’s time to go to sleep, wench.”

  Sliding into the crook of his shoulder, she whispered,

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Epilogue

  One week later

  Danny had called Roxy and told her he’d be stopping by the salon in a couple of days, but waking up the following morning, he realized he wanted to see her more than he wanted to veg out on his own. Two hours later he helped her off her launch at the marina on St. Thomas, and took her back to his room at Gallows Bay.

  But as much as he wanted to whisk her to bed, he needed her to know the unique life he led. Sitting her down, he gave her a brief account of his background.

  “I know we’ve just met, but we have a connection, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, Roxy, life isn’t a dress rehearsal. Every day matters. I told you about Conchello and what I’ve been doing because I’ll be staying in law enforcement. My job isn’t nine to five, and if—”

  “You can stop right there,” she exclaimed, interrupting him. “I think it’s fantastic, and Danny, it doesn’t matter what you do, it only matters who you are and how you make me feel.” Then lowering her voice, she added, “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had butterflies in my stomach. Can we stop talking now?”

  “I think I can manage that,” he said, relief and happiness flooding his heart.

  “There is one thing though,” she whispered, leaning forward and winking at him. “You’d better not try to put your handcuffs on me.”

  “Oh, Roxy,” he said softly, shaking his head, “fair warning. Don’t try to stop me…”

  * * *

  With the operation concluded, and Scott busy with Frank and Jack and interrogations, Elizabeth flew back to Los Angeles to pack some much needed clothes, tie up loose ends, and make arrangements to lease her condo.

  Blindfolded and shackled, Rosemary and Sonny had been transported separately to the safehouse on the isolated island, and neither was aware the other was there. Frank placed Sonny on the second floor, and Rosemary on the first. The unexpected revelation that she was Sonny’s mother had been startling, but after several conversations with both of them, their history was pieced together.

  Rosemary had sensed early on she was carrying a boy. When the father, Chello Bastida, a well-known drug dealer in her rundown Houston neighborhood, refused to accept responsibility, she’d decided to swindle him out of every penny he had.

  Con Chello became her mantra.

  Though she didn’t offer details, she claimed she’d been successful. When he’d left broke and humiliated, she’d swiftly and mercilessly stomped out any competitors and stepped into his shoes. But as a constant reminder never to fall victim to another man’s devices, she gave Sonny the surname Conchello.

  In the seedy, violent business, Rosemary Garcia became a frightening force, but the constant battle to prove herself in the male-dominated, macho underworld was infuriating and exhausting. When Sonny graduated from high school she moved to Southern California with a plan. Sonny would be seen as the head of the business, and Rosemary his housekeeper. He was young, but smart and brutal, and with his mother behind the scenes calling the shots, Sonny Conchello’s reputation quickly spread. Serve him, you’ll make a fortune. Screw up, and you’ll wish you’d never been born.

  Rosemary and Sonny seemed happy to talk about their past, and even the inner workings of the organization, but Sonny insisted he knew nothing about a brothel called the monastery, and Rosemary steadfastly maintained it was nothing but a rumor.

  Elizabeth and Scott had stayed in constant contact, and she couldn’t wait to return. The night before her departure she called him with her arrival information, and he voiced his frustration.

  “Now you know why I said men could be clueless sometimes,” she declared.

  “I’ll ignore that comment,” Scott remarked, “but I’d like to know why you think she’s not talking.”

  “That woman has spent her entire life battling men,” Elizabeth said vehemently. “Keeping the details of the monastery to herself has become her win over you.”

  “I guess that makes some kind of twisted sense, and I bet you have an idea.”

  “Uh-huh. Would you like to hear it?” she asked airily.

  “You so need to be spanked,” he muttered. “When you get off that plane…”

  “Don’t you get tired of saying that?”

  “Nope, and I never will. Tell me what you have in mind.”

  * * *

  Frank had been skeptical, but was willing to put the elements of Elizabeth’s suggestion together. Meeting her at the airport on St. Thomas, Scott hugged her for a long minute, then whisked her back to the island.

  “I’m so happy to be back,” Elizabeth said happily as they walked into the house.

  “I’ve missed having you around here,” he said, carrying her bags into the bedroom, “and I’d love to jump your bones, but Frank’s pulling his hair out, and he doesn’t have much left.”

  “We can’t have that,” she said with a giggle. “Take me to your leader.”

  Walking quickly to the security room, Frank welcomed her back and handed her the photographs she’d requested.

  “These are perfect,” she declared, looking them over. “I don’t think this will take me long at all. Let the games begin.”

  * * *

  Walking with
Elizabeth to the back of the house, Scott unlocked the door to Rosemary’s room, but remained in the hall as she entered. Elizabeth found her at a table against the wall beneath a barred window.

  “Hello, Rosemary,” she began, sitting opposite her. “Are you okay? Are they treating you well?”

  “I guess. Why are you here?”

  “I need your help, but it hasn’t been easy getting in to see you. These fucking men,” she added in a hushed whisper. “They think they own the fucking world.”

  “When did you discover that?” Rosemary asked, her brow crinkling.

  “Let’s just say it took me a while.”

  “That’s not uncommon,” she remarked, still frowning, “but if you want my help, you need to answer a question for me first. Who do you work for?”

  “When I was at the mansion, I worked for Jim Parker.”

  “Lying sonofabitch,” Rosemary growled. “I fucking knew it.”

  “But you’re missing a vital piece of information.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

  “One of my dearest friends, Emily Wilson, disappeared a couple of years ago. I’ve been trying desperately to find her. She’d been going out with a guy who worked for Sonny, and that was the sole reason I agreed to go into the mansion. I thought if I could track him down, I might get a lead. Here’s Emily’s picture,” Elizabeth said quietly, sliding it from the envelope and placing it on the table.

  “Don’t know her,” Rosemary declared. “Is that it?”

  “I’m not with the DEA anymore,” Elizabeth continued. “I’ve moved over to missing persons, and something happened recently directly related to you.”

  “Me?” Rosemary said skeptically.

  “Two girls disappeared outside a charity you founded, Tragedia al Triunfo, and I was told there have been others. Tragedy to Triumph is becoming Tragedy to Triumph back to Tragedy.”

  As Elizabeth paused to let the news register, she saw a flash of alarm in Rosemary’s eyes.

  “A couple of days ago, Peter Griswald was arrested on child pornography charges.”

  “Who’s Peter Griswald?” Rosemary asked, leaning across the table.

  “He’s an extremely wealthy man who owns a software company in Silicon Valley,” Elizabeth answered, slowly retrieving another photograph from the envelope. “This was found on his computer. He’s pictured with the two missing girls. Rosemary, the hills in the background have been identified. The picture was taken in Santa Barbara.”

  “Dios ten piedad…” Rosemary muttered under her breath.

  “I’m sorry, Rosemary, I don’t speak Spanish.”

  “God have mercy,” Rosemary breathed, still staring at the image.

  “Girls are being abducted off the streets near your charity, and if they’re being sent to the brothel your son owns in Santa Barbara, their fate is in your hands. Please, for them, tell me where it is.”

  “Si,” she whispered, snatching up the picture. “370 Vista Drive. It was an abandoned convent. There are high walls, armed guards, but you must save my girls!”

  “I will,” Elizabeth said earnestly, “but Rosemary, I have to ask, why would you send women into sexual slavery?”

  “Don’t you see? It hurt the men,” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “Stop wasting time. Save my girls!”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Quickly rising to her feet and hurrying out the door, Scott closed and locked it behind her, then threw his arms around her.

  “Damn, you did it. You were brilliant.”

  “She’s so damaged,” Elizabeth said, grateful for the hug.

  “Yeah, she is, but you just saved all those women.”

  “Scott, I want to do more,” she said solemnly, pulling back and staring up at him. “I want to get back to work and help you catch as many bad guys as I possibly can.”

  He smiled down at her. “Frank wants you on my team.”

  “He does? What did you tell him?”

  “Try and stop me.”

  * * *

  Two months later

  Elizabeth had moved into Scott’s home above Coral Bay, and he couldn’t imagine life without her. Though she was still learning the ropes, literally on his yachts, and figuratively with the team, she had a natural aptitude for sailing, and soaked up information like a sponge. It was the middle of a relatively slow morning at the sailing school when she called and asked him to join her at the safehouse.

  “I didn’t know you were going to the island?”

  “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly. “Can you get here around three o’clock?”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  “Great, call me when you’re ready to drop anchor at the beach.”

  “Will do,” he replied, picturing her waiting in a salacious outfit lounging seductively on the bed.

  The hours passed much too slowly, and as finally he set sail he was wishing he was in a speedboat, but the trip to the island was idyllic. As he entered the cove, he lifted his phone from his pocket and called her.

  “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

  “You sound like you’ve been running.”

  “I’m just excited,” she replied. “You need to motor about a hundred yards east.”

  “Okay…” he said, tickled by the intrigue as he followed her directions. “What are you up to?”

  “You’ll find out in a minute. Stop there, that’s perfect,” she exclaimed, “and up is the operative word. Look over at the cliff.”

  Lifting his gaze, he spied a lone figure standing on a narrow ledge.

  “What the—are you crazy? Get off there.”

  “That’s the plan,” she replied with a giggle. “I’m on the plateau. It’s not as scary as it looks from down there.”

  Hastily grabbing his binoculars, he discovered she was wearing a swimsuit, goggles, and a swim cap.

  “No!” he yelled, abruptly realizing she planned to dive. “Don’t! You can’t. The water’s too shallow.”

  “I’ve followed the tides. It’s perfect. Here I go!”

  His heart in his mouth and holding his breath, he watched her leap into the air. A moment later her body miraculously twisted, then formed a perfect dart and disappeared into the ocean.

  Terrified something might have happened to her, he hastily steered the boat toward her entry point, but her head suddenly broke the surface. Her expression was jubilant as she waved him over.

  “That was fantastic,” he exclaimed as she climbed on board, “but you can never, ever scare me like that again.”

  “Anything’s easy if you know how to do it, like you sailing through a storm.”

  “You so need to be—”

  “Don’t say it!” she said, breaking into a laugh as she wrapped her soaked body around him.

  “You’re right, why waste words,” he retorted, grinning as he bustled her into the salon and dropped down on the bench seat.

  “Scott, will you please just wait a second? I have something to tell you. It’s important.”

  “You can talk while I spank your ass.”

  “No, you have to listen,” she said urgently, sitting next to him. “I’ve been wanting to do that dive for you ever since I was on that plateau with Danny, I just never got around to it, but a couple of days ago I got some news, and I realized if I didn’t do it soon…”

  “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

  Catching her breath, she stared at him, her eyes wide. “You’ve never called me that before.”

  “Uh… it just felt right.”

  “That’s so weird.”

  “Why?”

  “Our roll of the dice…”

  He paused.

  The phrase registered.

  His heart leapt.

  “Are you saying…?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to have a baby.”

  * * *

  For a single, fleeting, terrifying moment, Elizabeth thought he was horrified, but abruptly jumping to his feet, he lifted her up and spun
her around.

  “We have to celebrate, but no champagne for you,” he exclaimed, setting her on her feet. “Shit. I’ll be right back,” he suddenly muttered, turning and heading for the cabin. “Stay there, I’ve got something for you.”

  Curious and excited, she sat down to wait, but he reappeared empty-handed.

  “When you said you had a surprise and wanted to stay in the safehouse overnight, I made a decision,” he said, sitting back down. “Elizabeth, you know I love you, but I also love living with you. I love sleeping with you, I love waking up next to you, I even love watching a corny movie on television if you’re with me, so, uh, I bought you this,” he finished, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small black ring box. “Elizabeth, I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

  “Yes…” With her heart bursting, and her eyes overflowing with joyous tears, it was all she could manage to squeak out.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, over the moon as they clinked glasses of sparkling water in lieu of champagne, Scott noticed Elizabeth staring at him with an odd look in her eye.

  “Hey, superstar, is there something on your mind?”

  “Is that going to be my nickname from now on?”

  “Apparently, it just popped out, and it fits. Tell me what’s running around that brilliant brain of yours.”

  “I have a confession to make,” she murmured, her lips curling in an impish grin. “How do I say this…?”

  “I don’t care, just say it, though I’m not sure I’ll survive another huge surprise.”

  “Well… it is a surprise, though I’m not sure it’s huge. When I first came down here and booked that charter, I knew who you were.”

  “I’m confused. What do you mean, you knew me?”

  “I, uh, I was a huge fan of your band, Lionheart. That’s not strictly true. I was a huge fan of yours.”

  “You’re kidding?” he exclaimed, his mind flashing back to his days in the music scene around Hollywood.