Page 28 of Paid to the Pirate

“I’m waiting.”

Scowling, I stormed to one of the chairs and plopped down.

“Back up,” Colt commanded, lifting his chin. “Stand, raise your skirts, then you may sit.”

If I could have burned him to char with my stare, I would have. Jaw clenched, I rose, bunched my skirts at my waist, and re-sat.

Colt and I held each other’s gaze, knowing what was to come next. The tension permeated the air like the moment before a curtain’s rise on opening night. Me, the player behind the stage, preparing to give a good show. Colt, the patron, demanding to be entertained.

Odd that a power raced through my veins at that moment. Was I helpless to Colt’s commands or was he helpless to my charms? Part of me wanted to turn my head away in shame as I spread my legs. But another part of me couldn’t tear my gaze from the thrall on Colt’s face. His dark, hungry eyes slid downward to my open sex. I knew better than to obey in halves and I widened my legs to either side of the chair, causing the lewd spreading of my folds.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, drinking his wine, never taking his eyes off me. Well -- my nether regions, specifically. After a few moments, Colt occasionally shifted his eyes up to my face, as if taking stock… as if reassuring himself of something and, once satisfied, he lowered his gaze back where he desired.

Agonizing minutes passed. Or were they seconds? Hours? Who knew? I was too acutely focused of the feel of Colt’s black eyes on my… cunt… to feel the passing of time.

His husky voice broke the silence. “You’re dripping onto the chair, Lady Charlotte.”

I felt the blush I knew he wanted.

“While an unfortunate lady might find herself subjected to unspeakable horrors at the hands of a captor, would such a lady soil the chair with her own lust?”

Waves of shame hit me so hard they dizzied me. I didn’t know if he expected an answer but I had none. My mouth had gone completely dry. Every part of my body felt hot, feverish. My face, my neck, my breasts, and especially the region below my waist. And he hadn’t even touched me.

Colt placed his wine back upon the table, grinning saucily. He picked up a piece of saltbeef and took a bite.

“Go on,” he commanded. “Eat. You’re free to enjoy as much as you like.”

You know damn well I can hardly eat a bite like this,I thought, narrowing my eyes. But I wouldn’t be defeated. Meeting his challenge, I grabbed my own saltbeef and took a large bite.

Unfortunately, the meat was tougher than I expected and I bit off more than I could chew, literally.

The next thing I knew I coughed and wheezed as my throat was robbed of air.

I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.

Gripped by panic, I wasn’t even embarrassed when Colt’s arms wrapped around my waist, squeezing.

Oh dear God, I can’t breathe.

His strong hands smacked my back in an attempt to dislodge the meat.

I can’t die like this,I thought, wildly. Tears welled.Choking on saltbeef at a pirate captain’s table.

On a particularly rough cough, the meat finally shot from my open mouth, landing on the table in a vulgar display. Relieved tears spilled down my cheeks and I took great, greedy gulps of air. When I refocused, Colt was kneeling before me. He brushed my hair from my face and gently grabbed it, studying me.

“You turned purple,” he declared, brow furrowed. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that, Charlie. Our kind meets our doom at the end of a sword, not a rough bit o’ bull.” Something strange crossed his face, setting his mouth into a line. “Though I suppose you were never truly our kind.”

I didn’t pay much attention to that last part.

Charlie?

I blinked. He’d never called me that before.

Chapter 16

Colt

Alone in my cabin, I ran a hand down my face. I had underestimated Robert’s wrath and put Charlotte in severe danger because of it.

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