Black Jack

by Mari Carr

  “Emma.”

  She looked at him, her face a mixture of quiet expectation and what he thought was nerves.

  “You make me lose my head.”

  She smiled softly. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  He shrugged. “I find it very difficult to keep my hands off you, regardless of our surroundings. I apologize for that.”

  She started to speak but he cut her off. If she spoke now, he might lose his nerve, might not find the strength to say these things later. “It’s hard for me to set limits with you. When I’m with you, I want you. It’s as simple and as difficult as that. You’ve set free some fairly well-hidden inclinations in me.”

  “Inclinations?”

  He nodded. They’d been friends for too long. Regardless of their changed status, he couldn’t hold the truth from her any longer. She deserved to know exactly what sort of man he was. He’d confess and then they’d find a way to move on from here together. The idea of moving on separately wasn’t an option.

  “I loved performing that fetish fantasy with you onstage.”

  She seemed shocked by his admission. Christ, this was going to be harder than he thought.

  “You did?”

  He nodded. “I think you’re pretty aware that I like to do some kinky things in the bedroom.”

  She laughed lightly. In the two short weeks they’d been together, he’d tied her up countless times and ways, indulged in wax play, anal play and introduced her to a host of toys.

  “Really?” she asked, feigning surprised. “I had no idea.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re an amazing woman, Emma. Loving, giving, open to new experiences. I’ve pushed you hard in every way, even knowing that your sexual proclivities, until we got together, were fairly tame.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “I don’t have the right to ask you for more.”

  She frowned. “But you want more?”

  He hesitated, trying to interpret her tone. Was she appalled, intrigued? “I’ve been having some fairly racy fantasies since that pirate act. I’m finding it difficult to shed the Black Jack persona.”

  She grinned. “I liked Black Jack.”

  “Yeah, well, my Black Jack tends to get a little rough and demanding at times.”

  “What’s he demanding?”

  He looked at her, dropping the walls and offering a clear view straight to his soul. “Sex in public, capture fantasies, whips, chains.”

  She blinked rapidly.

  Jesus. He’d gone too far. “I don’t need that,” he said hastily.

  “But you want it?”

  He took an uneasy breath, finding it difficult to get air to his lungs. “Listen, forget it.”

  She scowled. “I don’t want to forget it.”

  “No,” he insisted. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. I don’t need or expect an answer right now, Em. Take some time. Think about it. I know you don’t like to speak without considering all the angles and I want you to do that. If you decide it’s all too much for you, then we drop the subject here. We never have to mention it again.”

  “But—”

  He placed his fingers against her lips. “Shhh. Conversation’s closed. I said my piece. Now we can move on as we were.”

  “Jack—”

  He kissed her to silence her. Emma was a thinker. He knew she’d need time to consider everything he’d said. He’d give her plenty of time and he’d be very careful to remain within the limits they’d already drawn. “Let’s go home and make love, Emma.”

  The rest could wait.

  Forever if need be.

  Chapter 8

  Emma stood outside the jailhouse and cursed herself for being a fool.

  She’d fallen for Jack’s lies on the ship. Let herself believe he didn’t truly care for her. After their night of overpowering passion, she’d awoken the next morning alone in Jack’s bed.

  Time at that point flew by. They landed onshore and Jack negotiated the terms for her release as well as that of the other sailors in her father’s employ. He’d locked her in his cabin, not returning. Once the ransom was received, she’d been escorted home by strangers, despite her demands to speak to Jack. She’d left him a long letter expressing her true feelings for him. She loved him, and she would until the day she died. She begged him to come to her.

  No response came and for days she’d tried to hate him, tried to feel joy over the news he’d been captured and was facing execution for piracy and kidnapping, tried to forget how much she loved him.

  Then she’d overheard her parents speaking about her strange behavior upon her return, concerned that she was uncharacteristically subdued and quiet. She listened as her father expressed his surprise that Black Jack hadn’t taken any money for returning her to her family.

  She was also shocked to discover Jack hadn’t been captured. According to her father, he’d surrendered. Jack hadn’t ransomed her. He’d released her. The fool had thought she’d be better off without him and now he was sacrificing his life to protect her.

  Her path was suddenly clear.

  A door opened and Emma was ushered inside the jailhouse, along with three other women. She’d recruited the help of Jack’s crew in plotting his rescue. Together, they’d hatched a plan to break the pirate captain out of the prison.

  Dressed as a prostitute, she followed the other women. They’d told the guards Jack’s men had splurged for their captain to have one last fuck before facing the gallows in the morning. The guards allowed Emma into Jack’s cell, while the other prostitutes entertained them with alcohol and sex. Little did the guards know, the drinks were drugged.

  Emma’s heart pounded as she stepped into Jack’s dark cell. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the shadows. Jack was sitting on the floor, chained to the wall, and he appeared to be asleep.

  “I’m not interested in what you’re offering.” His voice was gruff, almost angry.

  She didn’t move, too overwhelmed with joy. This plan would work. It had to. She couldn’t imagine a world where Black Jack didn’t exist. When she didn’t respond, he leaned closer.

  “What do you want?” he asked and she knew he didn’t recognize her.

  “You,” she whispered.

  The chains clanged against the wall as Jack jerked with surprise. “Emma?”

  She moved closer, pausing when she reached the thin beam of moonlight touching the floor from a high window.

  “Am I dreaming?” His voice seemed pained.

  Emma walked closer, dropping to her knees. She could see dark bruises on his arms and face. Her lover had been beaten. Badly.

  “Jack,” she said, her heart breaking as she touched his injured eye.

  He scowled. “Jesus. It’s really you. What the hell are you doing here? What are you wearing?”

  “I came to rescue you.”

  His face darkened. “Are you fucking mad? Get the hell out of here before someone discovers you!”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not leaving without you.”

  “Goddamn it, Emma. You need to go back home. To your family. You’ll be safe there. You can’t stay with me.”

  She kissed him on the cheek, her beliefs confirmed. He’d lied to protect her. “I can’t live without you.”

  She threw her leg over his lap where he was seated on the floor, covering his face with gentle kisses.

  He resisted her ardor for a moment, then his willpower seemed to break and he moved his lips toward hers. “Kiss me, my love,” he whispered.

  She covered his mouth with hers, loving the feeling of his tongue as it brushed her lips, her teeth, tasting her.

  For several moments they simply kissed, like lovers reunited after years apart. Jack broke the connection first.

  “You need to leave, you little fool. Don’t you understand? Everything I’ve done is for you. For your safety and happiness.”

  She cupped his cheek. “You’re the fool to believe I’d ever be happy without y
ou. I’ll leave, Jack, but only with you.”

  The door to the cell opened. One of the other prostitutes came in and thrust a ring of keys into Emma’s hands.

  “The guards are asleep,” the woman said. “You better hurry up and find the key to those chains though. No telling how long they’ll stay that way. We’ll stand watch outside. Make haste or we’re all bound for the gallows.”

  As the prostitute left, Emma hastily began working to find the correct key, despite Jack’s protests that she leave.

  “Emma. I mean it. Get out of here. I’m not leaving with you.”

  She paused briefly and narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t leave, I don’t leave.”

  His frown darkened as she continued fiddling with the keys, trying one after another in the lock. “And where do you think we’re going to go? Have you even considered that?”

  “Your men have secured a ship. It’s awaiting us just offshore. Once I give the signal, we can row out, board it and sail off into the sunset.”

  Jack appeared taken aback by her thorough planning. “What about your family?”

  “I left them a note. My future is with you, Jack.” As she spoke the words, the lock gave way. Jack pulled off the manacles. Before Emma could rise, he pushed her onto her back on the dirt floor, coming over her and kissing her senseless.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “I love you too. Now get up. We have to leave.”

  Jack rose, reaching down to give Emma a hand up, not releasing it as the two of them snuck past the sleeping guards and out into the moonlit night.

  Jack pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “Sunset, here we come.”

  Emma looked at herself in the dressing room mirror, fighting to recognize the image staring back at her. She’d spent the past two weeks in a constant state of sexual frustration. Not that she’d been lacking for sex. She’d spent every single one of those nights in Jack’s bed, constantly breaking her personal records for most orgasms in an evening. No, it wasn’t the lack of sex that was annoying her.

  It was Jack. He was pissing her off. Big-time. Infuriating man dropped his sexual fetish bombs and then refused to let her respond, insisting she take time to think about it.

  Think? What the fuck did she need to think about? For the first time in her life, she’d had an answer at the ready within seconds. She’d been fully prepared to dive into all of Jack’s fantasies immediately, without a moment’s hesitation, because she wanted every single thing he did.

  But the fool thought she needed time, kept insisting he wouldn’t rush her, force her into anything. She blew out a long, exasperated breath.

  She’d tried every day since his confession to bring up the subject, only to have the conversation shot down by Jack. Tonight, he would listen—if not to her words, then definitely to her actions.

  He’d given her more than enough time to make a plan and she intended to blow her lover’s mind.

  “Five minutes, Emma,” the stage manager said from the doorway. She gave a quick wave to let him know she was ready.

  She took one last look in the mirror and smiled at her image. Her eyes were heavily lined in black, her lips a vivid red. She was in head-to-toe black, wearing a leather bra that showcased her breasts in a way she’d never imagined possible. She ran her hands along the tight leather leggings, trying to imagine what Jack would think of her Dominatrix look. As she walked toward the hallway, she grabbed the flogger propped up in the corner.

  Jack wanted whips and chains and that was what he was going to get…with a twist. He’d pay for making her wait.

  Standing in the wings, she snuck a quick peek toward the audience, just in time to see the hostess showing Jack to the front-and-center table she’d reserved for him. She grinned as she watched Jack glance around the crowded room. No doubt he’d expected her to already be seated.

  As the house lights dimmed and the music started, a spotlight shone on the lone piece of equipment. A tall wooden beam with manacles hanging from a hook near the top, positioned in the center of the stage. She’d had it installed earlier in the day, making certain the specifications were perfect for her intentions. The length of chain with the wrist straps could be adjusted to accommodate a tall man like Jack, or a shorter woman like her.

  Tonight was supposed to be the last night of the striptease fantasy, but Emma had convinced Travis to allow her to shake things up a bit. Actually, she hadn’t had to do much convincing at all. When she’d laid out her scheme for Trav, he’d jumped on board wholeheartedly. She’d appreciated her friend’s confidence and support.

  The dancers walked onto the stage. As the men placed their chairs onstage, the women began to move—a synchronized lap dance. Emma glanced toward Jack and saw him looking around, searching the darkened audience for her.

  The music changed slightly, her cue to enter stage right. She tried to still her racing heart. She was a perfect combination of nerves and excitement. She and Travis had spent nearly an hour together this afternoon as he tried to teach her how to properly wield the lightweight suede flogger in her hand. She’d been surprised by Travis’ knowledge when he’d outfitted her with a small one he’d claimed was better suited to a beginner and shown her how to use it.

  Emma took a steadying breath as the multiple spotlights on the dancers faded and a larger one headed toward her. Stepping into the light, she walked straight for the smooth wooden beam. She concentrated on her movements as she spun around the beam, letting the heat of the spotlight thaw away the cold nerves in the pit of her stomach. She was careful not to look in Jack’s direction too soon.

  She wondered what he was thinking as she ran the soft suede straps along her body slowly. All talking in the audience had ceased, thrusting the room into a profound silence that drove Emma’s arousal higher, her sexual show gaining strength. She made a production of checking the chains on the beam, pretending to test the quality of the manacles.

  The dancers froze in mid-motion as a voice came through the loudspeakers. Emma saw several members of the crowd jerk with surprise. The stage manager was speaking, inviting one lucky man to join the show and perform with their Dominatrix. For the first time, Emma allowed herself to look toward Jack’s chair.

  His gaze captured hers and held it for a long, tense moment. Then, Jack rose from the table and walked to the stage. Emma fought to restrain her smile. Everyone associated with the show knew there was only one man she’d perform with. They’d all been cued to allow only Jack to join her, even though several other men were jostling for the part.

  As he walked across the stage, his eyes never left hers. He oozed confidence, hunger, sex. Emma was certain every woman in the room was as spellbound by him as she. When he reached her side, he held out his hand.

  She smiled and shook her head. “Mine.”

  He scowled, but he didn’t argue. Instead he lowered his hand and shrugged as if to say, “It’s your show.”

  The dancers had remained motionless until that point. At the first sign of Jack’s acquiescence, they moved back into the play. As Emma oversaw the scene, one of the female dancers began to unbutton Jack’s shirt. When the woman’s hands began to roam, Emma moved closer, striking the dancer’s leg with the flogger as a warning. Another dancer stepped up behind Jack to pull the shirt off. Once he was naked from the waist up, Emma nodded toward two of the male actors.

  Jack stiffened briefly as the men walked closer. Emma reveled in her position of power. She’d always been content to let Jack lead the way in their sexual adventures and while she knew that was the way she preferred it, she couldn’t deny there was a certain headiness to being the one in control.

  The men escorted Jack to the beam, each of them lifting and securing one of Jack’s wrists to the manacles. When they were finished, they stepped back, allowing Emma to tighten the chain, pulling his arms high above his head.

  A quick glimpse below Jack’s waist proved he wasn’t exactly opposed to this role-reversal either. Hi
s cock was straining against the denim of his jeans and Emma briefly wished the rest of the audience were gone so she could free him and take him as she wanted.

  The other dancers resumed their spots on the outer edges of the stage. The men sat once more as the women recommenced their sensual lap dances. Emma knew they were merely for decoration. She had no doubt every eye was following her motions, curious about what she’d do next.

  She lifted the suede flogger and, starting at his temple, dragged it tantalizingly down his body. Jack appeared to stop breathing when she moved it below his waist toward his cock.

  “You might not want to injure the crown jewels,” he murmured under his breath.

  She gave him an angry glance, warning him to remain silent. It was a tricky look to maintain considering she was laughing inside at his jest.

  Raising the flogger once more, she bid him to open his mouth. Jack obeyed, but his look let her know there would be a serious reckoning for everything she dished out on this stage. While she suspected he erroneously thought that would slow her down, it only proved to her she’d better get her money’s worth now while she had him at her mercy. She pushed the handle between his lips and ordered him to bite down.

  Once he held the flogger in his mouth, she looked toward the stage manager, who started the next song. “Pump It” by the Black Eyed Peas began coursing throughout the club. The dancers began to move in time with the fast pace and Emma picked up the beat, walking around Jack, her hands touching every part of him as the women in the crowd began to cheer.

  The dancers leaned over the men seated beneath them, pumping their hips up and down. Emma reached up to retrieve her toy, bidding Jack to turn around. The chain had enough give that he could face the audience or the wooden beam. When she lightly tapped the suede straps against his leg, Jack issued her a gaze promising retribution before he turned away from the audience.

  Emma raised the flogger, swinging it first toward his jeans-covered ass. She could see the dancers had cast the chairs aside and the couples were performing a dance that screamed sex. The temperature on the stage increased and Emma felt sweat trickle between her breasts.