“Shut it, Kurt you hairy rectum bomb,” I said. “This is between me and the one who coined the term buttwaffle.”
“So you don’t want me to talk about my other boyfriends?” she inquired as her blue hair began to blow around her head signaling that she was pissed or an explosion was imminent.
It was all kinds of sexy.
“Nope,” I said. “The more you talk about your other paramours, the more I will have to kill them. You feel me?”
Her grin widened and I grew wildly confused. Mermaids were nuts. I mean, Selkies weren’t exactly stable, but…
“You’re gonna love Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar,” she sang as she skipped off to help the Crab set the sails.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered. “I’m going to have to kill four Pirates.”
“I don’t think so, scrotum pancake,” Kurt said with a laugh.
“You think I should just let all her boyfriends live, raw cookie-dough balls?” I demanded.
“Umm… if you listened to what you said, and then to what she said, you’d understand, ass hair cupcake,” Kurt said.
“Does it require thinking?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Can you interpret for me?” I asked.
“I could…” he said slowly. “However, if I do then you’ll have to cook and wash the grundies.”
“You suck gaping cracks.”
“Thank you. Deal?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Deal,” I huffed. Wooing my Mermaid was going to be the end of me.
“You told her not to talk about her boyfriends in front of you,” Kurt announced.
“I know that,” I snapped.
“And then she said fine.”
“If you’re just going to repeat the conversation, I’ll be forced to tie your Johnson into a knot and kick your sorry ass overboard.”
“Stay with me, buttmunch,” Kurt said with a laugh. “So then she mentioned all the Pirates again. Which means none of them are her boyfriends.”
I froze. Kurt was fucking brilliant. “Are you sure about this?” I asked, feeling elated.
“Pretty sure. I’d bet my Jason Momoa Aquaman action figure on it. I think she likes you.”
“She didn’t mention Pirate fucking Doug,” I pointed out.
“Damn, that sucks, but now you only have to kill one Pirate instead of four.”
“Dude,” I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was looking. “I love you, dickbrains. And I’m sorry I cut all the waistbands off of your underpants.”
“You did?”
I nodded and tried like hell not to grin. I actually was sorry, but it was still funny.
Kurt also did the cursory scan before he spoke. “I love you too, jackhole. I’m sorry that I glued all the pee holes of your boxer briefs shut. And now I’m really sorry because I’m going to steal all your underpants because you fucked mine up.”
We stood silently together and contemplated life and our new underpants issues. My brother was far more important than boxer briefs and it was excellent that I only had to take on one Pirate instead of four. Things were looking up. Kind of…
“Do you love her?” Kurt whispered.
Without a pause, I nodded. “I do—from the first minute I saw her, but I think she loves another.”
“Pirate Doug?” Kurt asked.
“Yep.”
“In my opinion, you’re a far better bet,” Kurt said. “Selkies are way better boinkers than Pirates—it’s a known fact. And now you have a job and can cook, clean and wash clothes.”
“Dude, I can’t cook or clean or wash clothes,” I pointed out.
“Yet,” Kurt said with a grin. “Not yet, snot head.”
He was right and I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. My brilliant brother was correct. I was a good catch in progress. A man who could boink like me and who could make kale chips and hummus would be impossible for a Mermaid to pass up. I hoped…
“And we’re going to help her save the day. That will seal the deal,” Kurt added.
“Have you dealt with a Kraken before?” I asked my brother.
“Nope. I’ve seen the slimy bastards, but never talked to one.”
I paused and tried to recall if I’d ever conversed with one of the freaks. I’d had several interesting exchanges with an octopus named Dan, but no Krakens.
“Ariel said that one attacked their island six months ago and they killed it, but it took the magic of a shitload of immortals,” I said, placing my hands on the ships railing and looked out at the vast sea.
“And they think we can talk sense into a bunch of seriously butt ugly freaks of nature?” Kurt asked, joining me.
“Yep. I think it’s a long shot, but I’m in.”
“Me too,” Kurt said. “Can you imagine the look on mom and dad’s faces if we pull off a negotiation like this? The old man can’t call us losers anymore. Although, I’d hate to kill a bunch of Krakens. Don’t even know if we can kill an army of Krakens. Do you know how many?
“Nope, but if we have to, we can. Kill them, that is. We can just dig deep and use the mac daddy of our magic,” I said.
“Yep, and if we do that, we could also accidentally drain the ocean and kill a bunch of innocent sea creatures at the same time, dude.”
I nodded curtly and pondered the situation ahead. It was risky to go at the Krakens with magic. Kurt was correct. We could do massive amounts of damage to everything we loved if it came to a death match. Shite.
“We’re just going to have to pull it out of our asses as we go,” I said, with far more confidence than I felt. The last time I pulled a plan out of my ass, Pirate Sven almost beheaded himself over Mormon dust bunnies. My ass plans did not have a great track record.
“Sounds like a plan,” Kurt said. “A shite plan, but I don’t have a better one, bro.”
“Then an ass yank it is.”
May Poseidon bless our asses.
13
Ariel
“So are ye going to tell him, little Mermaid?” Pirate Sven asked as he turned the ancient and well-polished crank to pull up the anchor.
“Tell who what?” I asked, feigning innocence. Dang it, was the Crab Pirate a mind reader?
The grizzly old Pirate shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he took the helm of the ship and guided us out to sea. “Suit yerself.”
I stopped tying slipknots and stared at my hands for a long moment. I was on a Pirate ship—a clean one that smelled nice. I was on the open waters on an adventure. I was going to defend my island and my family. The man I was meant to be with was here—calling his brother names that should be reserved for third grade human boys. I was living my dream, but…
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
“Well, I’ll tell ye this, lassie, ye can’t get to Paradise alone. There are two ways to park yer arse on the island. Either someone brought ye here or…”
“Or?” I asked, wondering if Pirate Sven knew the particulars of the Selkie legend.
“Or ye cried seven tears into the sea and the fates brought ye here.”
“Umm… about that,” I said, deciding to go for it. He knew anyway. “Does it go both ways?”
“Not following ye,” he said.
“Okay. Let’s just say for shits and giggles that I did cry seven tears into the sea and got whipped up into a violent tsunami that parked my arse on Paradise because my true love was maybe, possibly, hypothetically here …Does that mean I’m his true love too or is he just my true love? Because it would be all kinds of awkward if I wasn’t his and he was mine. It would make me stabby and that’s not my best look.”
“Methinks I followed that, but I’m not sure. All I can say is this. When ye live as long as we do, the days, weeks, months, years and centuries all start to blend together at some point. Every cardigan-wearin’, smack-talkin’, clam-diggin’, son of a sea dog has to make thar way without losing thar mind. The only thing that makes the day worth living is l
ove. Or a marathon of Waterworld.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I pointed out while biting back my review of Waterworld.
“Aye,” he said with a smile. “That’s because I don’t have an answer for ye. Them thar Selkies are an odd bunch. I couldn’t tell ye what the rules are. I’m a Crab Shifting Pirate. If ye want to know about that, I can regale ye with yarns all day.”
“Umm… maybe some other time,” I told him politely. If his stories were anything like Pirate Doug’s I would avoid listening like the plague. “So you think I should tell him he’s my true love?”
“I think that while fate might have plans, ye can control yer own fate,” he replied cryptically. “Make yer own way, little Mermaid. If ye don’t jump, ye can’t fall.”
“That was pretty deep,” I told him.
“Thank ye.”
“Welcome, but you still didn’t answer the question.”
“Why don’t ye get to know the eejit?” Pirate Sven suggested.
“What if he doesn’t like me?”
“What if ye don’t like him?” he countered.
“Too late,” I whispered and let my chin drop to my chest. “He’s a warrior. He’s hot. He loves animals. He’s hot. He’s got dimples—I love dimples. He’s hot. He has a cool job and he makes me laugh. He’s hot. He loves the ocean and adventures. He’s hot. His mom said his favorite movie is Sharknado. He’s hot. He’s learning to cook. He’s hot. He can boink like a…”
“Ye can stop right there. I get the picture,” Pirate Sven said with a grin and a shake of his big head. “Ye know his mum?”
“Oh crap,” I said as I slapped my hands over my mouth. “I’m not supposed to tell him they moved to the Mystical Isle. That was her request.”
“Yer secret is safe with me, little Mermaid. And trust me, I understand his mum’s reasoning. Although Tar Stain and his eejit brother are very different Selkies than they were yesterday.”
“I’m not sure I can tell him he’s my true love,” I whispered.
“Are ye a weenie or a Mermaid?” Pirate Sven demanded with his grey grizzly brows raised high.
“I’m a kick ass little Mermaid,” I said.
“Then I’d suggest ye go kick some arse,” Pirate Sven recommended.
“I think I will.”
* * *
“I need to talk to you,” I told Keith as I grabbed him by the hand and yanked him toward the stern of the ship.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked. “Every time a girl person says they want to talk, I end up having to run for my immortal life.”
“You’re not in trouble, but I might be,” I said.
“Did Pirate Doug find out about us?” he asked. “Cause I would be fucking stoked to kick his ass into the next century.”
“Umm… no,” I said, with an eye roll. I’d thought I’d cleared that one up already. “We’re going to get to know each other better.”
“Sounds good to me and my Johnson,” Keith said with a huge grin. “But maybe we should go below.”
“Nope, the deck is just fine.”
“Kinky. I like it,” he shouted and followed me like a puppy.
I rolled my eyes again and laughed. He was nuts and he also was very mistaken. Whatever. I was going to follow the advice of the old man with pincher hands. If I was going to make Keith fall for me, he needed to know what he was jumping into first.
* * *
“Wait,” Keith said, looking confused and all kinds of sexy as he paced up and down the deck. “So when you said we’re going to get to know each other you didn’t mean naked and sweaty?”
“Umm… no,” I said with a giggle while watching him with barely restrained lust. My girlie bits were not pleased with the plan of action at all. “We actually already know each other naked and sweaty. We need to know more than just how spectacularly boinkable we are together.”
“And this is important to you?” he asked, perplexed. “Why?”
“Because you can’t base a relationship on a great boink,” I said, wondering if that was even true. What did I know about relationships? I’d never really been good at them. I was a little too hot headed and Johnson-lopping happy. “There has to be respect and trust too.”
“This is news to me,” Keith said, nodding. “Is this like a test?”
“No. There are no wrong answers as long as we tell the truth,” I replied.
“Thank the Gods for that,” he shouted with his arms raised to the Heavens. “I’m far better at boinking than thinking.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Everything the dummy did was delightful to me.
“I’ll go first. My favorite color is blue. What’s yours?”
“Blue,” he said.
“Okay… my favorite movie is Sharknado. What’s yours?”
“Sharknado.”
“You don’t have to answer the same,” I told him. “You don’t lose points if we’re different.”
“I told the truth,” he said with a lopsided grin that made my breath catch in my throat.
Focus. Focus on talking not boinking. This is how to make it work… I think.
“How about you talk about you and then I’ll talk about me?” I suggested, worried that the next thing out of my mouth would be that I’ll show him mine if he’ll show me his.
“Okay. Well, my favorite time of the day is twilight. Insulting my brother brings me great joy and early this morning I cut all the elastic out of his underpants. I was diagnosed as a vegetarian about seventy years ago due to the fact I can’t eat what I can converse with. I think Aquaman is a god—more specifically Jason Momoa as Aquaman—and as you already know I can talk to freakin’ fish.”
“I think all that’s amazing,” I told him on a happy sigh. He was perfect—although I made a mental note to hide my panties. I quickly sat on my hands so I didn’t grab him, throw him down on the deck and stick my tongue down his throat. “I can send thoughts to the sharks, but I can’t hear them speak.”
“I’d be happy to interpret for you,” he said.
“And I’d be happy to teach you how to use a real washing machine so you won’t set your clothes on fire from using a pot over an open flame,” I promised.
His grin was positively lethal. The dimples in his cheeks made my heart skip a beat. Gods, I wanted him to love me.
“Do you happen to know how to work the deadly microwave?” Keith inquired, looking a bit terrified.
“Yep. I do,” I said with a laugh. “I can teach you. Tell me something you’ve never told anyone. Tell me a secret.”
“Are you serious?” he asked, looking alarmed.
“Nope. I’m Ariel… actually… I’m Joan,” I said, wrinkling my nose in dismay. “That’s one of my secrets. My sisters are the only ones who know that.”
“Joan is a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful Mermaid.”
“Really?” I asked, sure he was pulling my leg—or my fin. However, his words were like freakin’ foreplay. My lady bits were dancing with anticipation.
“Really. Joan of Arc—major kick ass warrior. You’re just like her, charging in and saving your island and your people.”
My knees almost buckled with desire. But my Selkie was just getting started.
“Joan Cusack—majorly hilarious actress. You’re funny and sweet. And your rack is outstanding.”
Again, I felt breathless. I loved Joan Cusack. And the part about my rack made me all tingly. It wasn’t exactly poetry, but it was all kinds of awesome.
“Joan Jett—fucking kick ass rock and roll goddess. You are so a Joan,” Keith announced with a thumbs up. “And you’re way hotter than any of them.”
I was almost done. I was ready to just do him in broad daylight on the stern of the ship with the entire world watching. This man loved my horrible name. Unreal.
“Pirate Doug is my sister’s mate,” I burst out. I no longer wanted to hide behind anything or anyone. I wanted to clear up his ridiculous misunderstanding. I was ready to kiss the b
oy and make him mine.
“Umm… okay,” he said, looking at me strangely. “Does she know?”
“Know what?” I asked, confused.
“That you’re banging her Pirate?”
“You think I would bang my sister’s Pirate?” I shouted.
“Umm… is there a correct answer here?” Keith asked looking wildly unsure of himself.
“Yes. Yes there is,” I snapped and zapped his perfect ass with a blast of blue sparkly magic.
“Ouch,” he shouted and hopped around the deck. “You said there were no wrong answers on this test.”
“This isn’t part of the test,” I shouted back at him. “This is real life.”
“Real life is all the time,” he argued as he expertly dodged another searing stream of magic from my fingertips. “First, you tell me you’re dating Pirate fucking Doug and now you tell me he’s your sister’s mate. What am I supposed to think here?”
“Thinking is overrated,” I snapped. “Did I actually ever say I was dating Pirate Doug?”
Keith stopped and squinted his eyes for a moment, apparently in deep thought. “Umm… no?”
“Correct.”
“Gods, I’m so glad I got that right. That blue magic smarts like a motherfucker,” he said and then jumped behind a barrel when he saw my expression.
“You assumed I was dating him. And then you believed I would boink my sister’s mate. You could never love a person who you thought could do something that awful,” I yelled, and swiped at my tear filled eyes.
“Is that a question?” he asked looking like a tuna on a fishhook.
“No,” I said sadly, unable to look at him. “It was a statement. I was just hoping… Never mind. We should make plans of attack now anyway. Talk time is over.”
“No. Talk time is not over,” Keith said. “Clearly I fucked up here. I’m still not quite clear how, but I know I did. There’s something I need to tell…”
“All hands on deck,” Pirate Sven shouted at the top of his lungs. “Krakens dead ahead.
“Shite,” Keith swore. “We’re not finished talking, Joan—not now—not ever.”
Ariel’s Antics: Sea Shenanigans, Book 2 Page 11