His Pirate (Second Chance Book 2)

by Stephanie Lake

  Alastair smiled and touched his shoulder. “How very fortunate you were.”

  Rhain nodded and truly agreed.

  “So tell me how someone who is thirty-second in line to a dukedom has a Welsh name?”

  Snorting, Rhain rolled his eyes. “My father was half Welsh. Mother’s family almost disowned her when she ran off and married him. To show her displeasure, she named her first child—me—after my paternal grand-uncle. Had a few fights at school because some people didn’t think my blood was English enough.”

  “I imagine you won all those fights.”

  That bit of flattery warmed him. He kissed Alastair’s nose gently. “And what about you?”

  Nodding, his pirate told the tale of his life. “Father was in the British navy, worked his way up to first mate. When their ship captured a French frigate, he gained his captaincy. Did a bit of privateering on the side, which gave him enough funds and a prize ship to start his own shipping line. He owns a small fleet based in Boston Town. Mother refused to leave London. I visit them both when I’m in port. I plan to purchase a few more ships in the future. Build my own fleet. One of these days.

  “There, my boring story has been shared, so tell me what I really want to know.” Alastair gave him a slow, deep kiss. “It is obvious you know your way around a man’s body, so these friends were past lovers. Tell me about them?”

  Rhain laughed. “It is not a pretty tale. I’d rather not.”

  But when Alastair propped his chin on his chest and gazed at him with those dark eyes, he found he wished to tell him everything.

  “There were a number of school friends with whom I exchanged hand and sucking pleasures. We were all in a perpetual state of arousal back then, so I don’t know if any of them shared the same proclivities that I…that we share. None of us ever shared anal penetration, but then I was so ignorant, I didn’t even know at the time a person could do that.”

  Alastair chuckled and fondled his chest hair, twining a few strands around his finger and then untwining it.

  “Then there was Robert. We met at my gentlemen’s club. He was—I suppose still is—an athletic man, and we had many things in common. He is a year older than me. Had a year or two more experience. He let me… Well, he actually taught me how to…” He waved a hand over Alastair’s body as if that would convey the embarrassment of his first time, but Alastair nodded as if he understood.

  “He was like you. He liked to…” Again, he waved his hand over his and Alastair’s bodies. “God, I am miserable at this.”

  “He liked to be the one receiving.”

  Rhain nodded. “We knew each other for a year before we became lovers, during which I fell hopelessly in love. He did too, I believe, at least half in love, anyway. When we began our affair, he was so frightened of being caught, we weren’t able to come together as often as I wished.”

  “What happened?”

  “He wed. Lydia thought we should murder him in his sleep. I thought that was over the top, so we succeeded in drinking ourselves into an inebriated state instead.” He shrugged, ready for this conversation to be over.

  “Hard to imagine your sister in her cups, but I’m happy she was there for you. That must have been difficult.”

  “Yes.”

  Alastair must have realized he no longer wished to talk. He laid his head back on Rhain’s chest and started sharing his own history. “I suppose you might think I’m a bad man. I’ve had lots of experience. I started at fourteen. One of my father’s friends. It was wonderful, and I never told Father. It lasted about six months, and then I apprenticed on one of Father’s ships, and that was that. We would occasionally have a quick fuck when I returned to Boston, but that stopped after his fall into laziness. I wasn’t interested any longer. Plus, I knew where to find younger men at that point.”

  Alastair gave a brief kiss to his nipple. The sizzle of sensation made him jump.

  “Being at sea, traveling all the time, makes it difficult to become involved with anyone. I’ve fucked plenty of men, but never had anyone special to me.”

  “Good for you. You can’t be hurt that way.”

  “You think so?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know. I think it is a bit sad.” He placed his hand over Rhain’s heart. “Actually, it is very sad.”

  Sad. He lifted the man’s chin and placed a small kiss on his lips. “I don’t want you to be sad. What can I do to make you feel happy?”

  “You could fuck me again.”

  “God, you are insatiable.”

  Alastair smiled wickedly. “We have so little time before Dominica; must make the best out of having two troublesome nobs on board.”

  Rhain laughed. “Just for that comment, I’m going to treat you like the lowly pirate you are. On your hands and knees, cur. I will teach you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth around your betters.”

  Alastair didn’t hesitate; he positioned onto hands and knees in seconds. His dark, smooth olive skin was several shades lighter than the dark crack. Two tight muscles ran from thigh to back. Tight and taut and irresistible.

  There was no need for oil or preparation. Alastair’s arse gleamed from oil and come, and he was stretched and welcoming. Still, Rhain took the time to kiss both arse cheeks and slip a finger into the warm, slick hole, just as much for his pleasure as for Alastair’s. And what pleasure. Fully, totally, and completely.

  The buggering was rough and fast and over much too quickly.

  Rhain was in love.

  Two days after they first fucked and he was already giddy with that unwanted emotion. What a goddamn worthless feeling for someone who would be out of his life before the change of seasons. But here he stood, holding the warm feeling close to his chest, enjoying the familiar lightheaded surges.

  The emotion sneaked up on him so slowly, he almost didn’t recognize it. But then last night, under the cover of candlelight, with Alastair’s supple body moving in rhythm beneath him, staring at eyes black as pitch, he’d realized. In the span of a month’s time, this stunningly beautiful man had captured his heart as well as his desires.

  It wasn’t just one thing; there were so many elements that made up the person he loved. His compassion for a motley, diverse crew, his ability to demand acceptance in each and every man and the odd woman under his command, his wit, his beauty…

  Feeling like a lovestruck youngster, he forced his attention to the churning water and foam forming behind the ship as they slipped ever closer to Dominica. The doldrums only lasted two days. The delay only two days, not ten.

  Every hour they sailed was one hour closer to Dominica, the port where he would leave his love, perhaps to never see the vibrant man again. No, he corrected himself. He definitely would never see Alastair again. There would be no point.

  What good would it do to open up the wound once every few years when some shipment brought him close enough to visit Dominica’s main port, Roseau, for a day or two? That would be beyond painful.

  Better to cut all ties, and now that he knew what intercourse with another man could really offer, he realized he could not be celibate. He would continue his occasional visit to molly houses to slake his lust. And at night, now he would have memories more vibrant than Robert’s tepid efforts.

  He pulled out an old, well-worn piece of paper and ran a thumb over one of the many creases. He’d held on to this letter for—what was it, a full year now? He would no longer need to pull out the sad little reminder of his failed relationship with Robert, the only other man he had loved. He would never again read the letter, touch himself, and occasionally cry himself to sleep.

  In fact, he’d not read the letter in months. Had almost forgotten it tucked away in a pocket in a seldom used waistcoat.

  He read it one last time.

  My Dear RM,

  I am a coward of the worst order.

  The way I have chosen to inform you of my decision is unforgivable, but I find I am unable to broach the subject while in the same
room with you. It is those big brown eyes of yours, you see. They can always persuade me to do your bidding. Always have. Nearly got me in trouble many times over the past two years.

  But this… What should I call it, attraction? It cannot continue. I do not know what happened to alert him, but I think my brother suspects. With his loathing of me, he will certainly cause us problems if he finds proof. Imagine what my parents would say if they were told.

  I have decided to move forward with my engagement to Violet. The wedding will be in June. Please do not come.

  You have been the best of friends these past two years. I would do nothing to hurt you if I could avoid it, but you know as well as I that we cannot be together.

  Do not fret over this, for you will soon find someone who loves you as you deserve. I hope you let me share in your joy on that day.

  Your friend always,

  R

  Robert had been a good friend, but their broken liaison made a hash of that. The letter had been the last he heard from Robert. He wasn’t even certain if the man’s marriage bore fruit and produced a grandchild he knew Robert’s mother so coveted. Not that it mattered. He no longer desired Robert’s pale-blond hair and insipid gray eyes.

  With sure, steady hands, he flung the letter into the wind which filled the sails again since that morning, and watched it flutter up and away to land somewhere in the blue, blue Atlantic Ocean.

  “Enter.” Alastair studied a route map to help with the plotting of their next course. He should have done this already, but he spent so much time in bed with Rhain the past few weeks, that he had fallen behind on his duties. He promised Dunn that morning he would do a better job at being captain from that point further.

  He almost laughed at his sorry state until he looked at his visitor. Standing in front of his desk, legs spread for balance and possibly to also showcase his package, was Balls. The man was big, filling a large part of the captain’s cabin. He was bold, with long, loose brown hair swept back from a handsome face and tall forehead.

  Even after a long night of passion, this man was able to elicit arousal. “What do you want, Balls?”

  “Moment of your time, Captain.” The words were spun with desire.

  “As you can see, I have very little of that commodity at the moment.” He waved at the maps on the table. “Why not take up your concerns with First Mate Dunn?”

  “He cain’t help with the problem I have.”

  Hating to ask but knowing that would be the best way to rid himself of this man, he said, “Right, then, what is your issue?”

  “This, sir.” Then the large man stroked the front of his breeches, and a fully impressive cockstand filled the man’s hand.

  He swallowed the saliva flooding his mouth, took a deep breath, and then looked away.

  “It has been a long voyage, Captain. Ain’t no one on ship who is desirable as you.” Then he whispered in a low, husky growl, “I need you, sir. Need you bad.”

  Alastair refused to look at the tempting offer.

  “Cain’t do me duty if I’m dangling for you day and night, now can I?” He leaned over the table and placed a large hand on Alastair’s shoulder, running a few fingers along his neck. “I have missed you somethin’ fierce.”

  “Enough. Take yourself belowdeck and find a willing body. I am certain there are plenty willing to”—he nodded at the impressive bulge in Balls’s breeches—“sample that.”

  “I need you, sir. Only you writhing under me can solve my problem.” He pulled Alastair closer.

  Alastair stood, knocking over his chair, and said very slowly and very quietly, “I said that was enough. Remove yourself now, or prepare yourself to be locked up. Do I make myself clear?”

  Balls made for the door, stomping like a four-year-old child. He turned and said, “It is because of that fancy bit you got in your bed these days, isn’t it? ’Cause I can outdo anything he—”

  “Out. Now!”

  The man left, but not before tossing over his shoulder, “You will regret this.” And then he gave a sloppy salute and tramped away.

  Regret not taking the man up on his offer? Not likely when he had a much more handsome, much more agreeable lover at the moment.

  He sighed. What had he ever seen in Balls?

  Chapter Nine

  Everyone was on deck, watching the green horizon of Barbados grow in their view. Apparently even hardened seamen got tired of nothing but blue three hundred and sixty degrees around the boat. Thirty-three days since they last set foot on land, and the green horizon beckoned to his soul.

  The past week their water tasted so bad, Rhain lost his desire to drink, and the food was nothing more than dried provisions that all tasted like wood shavings.

  Lydia squeezed his arm and pointed at a large white-and-gray seabird skimming over their spot by the rail so quietly it didn’t seem real.

  The bird was close enough he could see a small but intelligent eye considering them. To the bird, they must all seem like clumsy flightless creatures on a floating wooden island.

  “They are amazingly beautiful, Rhain. Just seeming to float on the air with no effort.”

  He watched the agile creature drift off to watch a group of sailors before heading toward shore. “Would you fly if you could, Lydia?” he asked.

  “Oh yes. Without hesitation. To feel so free, with the wind pushing me up, farther and farther toward the clouds. What an unbelievable experience that would be.” Her gaze moved up to the sun’s midmorning kiss. “Would you, brother?”

  Rhain glanced at the glaring sun and then back at his sister. He suspected he would not choose to fly. Not unless he were guaranteed a safe landing back on earth. “I think I would much rather watch you fly, dear.” He kissed the top of her curly head.

  She giggled and hugged his arm.

  So different, the two of them. Lydia, frail and not expected to live to her twenty-fifth birthday, willing to embrace anything, and he…

  He squinted at the bright sky, then opened his eyes fully on the breathtaking shore. He embraced what he knew. He tried to live a normal life. Would be happy to live a normal life, if he was normal. He wasn’t. So how far from what he considered orthodox and safe was he willing to go?

  His gaze shifted to the captain, currently at the wheel. First Mate Dunn stood next to him, performing something incomprehensible with a sextant. The pirate captain, tall and strong, guided the ship and issued orders such as “shake up the main,” “keep her trimmed by the head,” and other unfathomable commands.

  Rhain barely recognized the words as English. He smiled. Apparently, he was willing to go quite a bit out of “normal” to gain what he truly desired. “Maybe I would take a flight with you, dear. A very short one.”

  After several minutes of ogling his pirate, he turned greedy eyes on the land. They occupied a prime viewing location. The captain insured they had a good spot that morning by ordering a few sun-leathered men away from the fore rail.

  “Rhain, I’ve been able to piece together some of the captain’s accounts and showed him how to keep two sets of books to trick the taxman; he was surprised by that.” She laughed. “He has a problem this year. He lost contracted cargo because of his delay in Morocco, even picking up our fare—which was outrageous by the way; why didn’t you tell me?”

  Rhain shrugged. He hadn’t wished her to worry when she learned most of their funds went to the purchase of transport.

  “Well, at any rate, he found other cargo, but it was less profitable than he expected. This ship will lose money this year. I wonder if he has plans on how to make up for his shortfall?”

  Hearing this news, Rhain felt guilty for his animosity over the price he paid for their voyage. If he had any of the money that some of his relatives squandered, he would offer to pay more, just to make certain Alastair did not lose his ship.

  The shoreline was close enough now to distinguish a beach, shrubs, and trees. One forest-covered mountain appeared almost purple in its misty, hazed eleganc
e.

  “Oh, Rhain, I do hope our island is this beautiful.”

  She glowed, happy and healthy. He’d not heard a single cough in days.

  Squeezing her hand resting on his arm, he said, “I’m certain it will be just as beautiful, my dear.” He hoped so, for her benefit. The poor girl had suffered enough; it was time for something to go well for her.

  It took almost an hour before they changed course to slip alongside the verdant shoreline, and another half hour before they moved into a cove and dropped anchor. A high bluff shaded part of the cove’s clear sapphire water.

  A large shirtless seaman with a long brown braid walked past, almost clipping Rhain’s shoulder, and muttered, “Dragging the captain around by his prick.”

  Lydia gasped and spun around to confront the man, but all they saw was a retreating back, tight breeches, and the long braid swinging as he walked barefoot on the scrubbed boards.

  Rhain grabbed her arm to keep her from giving chase.

  “Don’t, Lyd. It means nothing. He probably received some undesirable ship duty or something.”

  “Still. He should not treat you with such little respect.”

  He pulled her back to her spot by the rail and distracted her with pointing out aspects of the scenery.

  As soon as the anchor held, the crew gave a hue and cry. Many men threw off their clothes and dived into the water.

  Lydia laughed and clapped her hands, not even shocked by the naked flesh flashing by.

  Rhain realized he smiled like an idiot, so he let himself laugh with his lovely sister and enjoyed the sight of tanned, naked men frolicking in the water. Pulling at his sea-salt-scratchy cravat, he wished he could join them.

  It was midday before they climbed down into a skiff headed for shore with First Mate Dunn and four capable rowers.

  The captain was still on board, organizing the land crews. The men bustled about as if the whole affair were carefully planned by a general preparing for battle. There must have been a thousand details required for restocking a ship. His pirate stood, authoritative and desirable as hell, bellowing orders while men scurried around to follow them.