JAMES #2
“There’s nothing for you at the end of this,” I say as I catch my breath. “You’ll be broken, reduced down to nothing but an echo of who you were—and in the end, you’ll get on your knees and beg for me to end you—just like they all do.”
At my words his body relaxes under me—I’m caught off guard at the sudden change, now conscious of every single place our bodies are touching.
His complete submission cuts deep causing his anger to rapidly bleed away.
Those once brutally harsh eyes are looking at me with a sadness I can somehow feel digging into my soul.
“I’m afraid you’re too late,” he growls. “You can’t break an already broken man.”
My fingers tighten around his neck but not enough to restrict his air and his eyes sharpen just enough at the pressure. But this time, when I hear his breath catch, I know it means something different. He pushes up just slightly against my hand.
“But just to be clear,” he grinds out through gritted teeth. “You won’t ever find me on my knees begging.”
I’m straddling him, nearly chest to chest, and the thought of him on his knees is too much.
I shove away from him and stand up, realizing that even on his back, conceding the fight, he simmers with power—and the allure of seduction.
I know without a doubt, this man, whoever he is, commands whatever room he enters—wholly and completely.
I caught him off guard earlier—a rare moment of weakness.
We both know it and I can see in his eyes, it likely won’t happen again.
Even beat down, shackled and caged, he holds himself like I’m the one who was just on his back.
It’s a sobering thought and makes him one of the most dangerous men I’ve ever met.
It also causes my hand to burn where it had been wrapped around his neck and the press of his body against mine is not something I’m going to easily forget.
I hastily relock the cell and without a backwards glance I head back above deck, conscious of Fox’s gaze boring into my back and trying not to make it seem like I’m running. I never knew what it meant to hate someone, yet also be attracted to them—now I do and it’s fucking with me.
I can’t get it out of my head—the heat, the hate and the anger bleeding into something else.
As I slam down the hatch to the brig and take deep breaths of the clean night air topside, I have to admit the truth: I’m attracted to a man, arguably for the first time ever.
The highly unfortunate part is the fact he’s still my enemy and I still have to kill him. Details that aren’t likely to change.
Harrison is perched on a barrel smoking, and Lan is at the helm when I storm up to the quarterdeck.
I grip the railing beside Harrison, feeling slightly unmoored.
My shoulder aches, my lip throbs—all reminders of his hands on me.
My senses are filled with him . I’d gone down there as a distraction and to get answers, but instead discovered something raw beneath the facade.
I’d wanted a fight but uncovered something real instead.
Unfortunately, it didn't come with answers, only more questions.
Harrison cocks an eyebrow at me as he exhales smoke.
“What happened to you?”
My response is barely more than a grunt. Harrison looks me up and down with amusement tempered by annoyance. I look down as well to find my clothing wet and filthy from rolling around the brig. From the way Harrison is now studying my face, I’m sure I have several cuts and scrapes there too.
Sure enough, Harrison flicks his thumb over his own cheek. “You got a little something there, Captain.”
“Did you at least get him to talk?” Lan asks.
“No,” I grumble.
Harrison shakes his head, his jaw ticks in irritation. “The money better be good cause he’s trouble. I’ve seen you kill men for less—” He looks me up and down again. “—much, much less.”
“He has lash marks on his back.”
Harrison’s face scrunches up in confusion. “So? Wait—but he’s a noble…”
“Punishment maybe?” Lan supplies.
I shake my head. “These were deliberate but erratic—the kind meant to break a man.”
“Is it just me or does he just get more and more confusing?” Lan grumbles. “Most nobles I know piss in their boots the moment the knife comes out.”
Yeah, that’s definitely not what Fox did when the knife was pressed against his skin. My blood heats and I turn away, willing the sea breeze to cool me down. I’m thankfully distracted when my eyes catch on the ominous storm clouds on the horizon .
“Should be a wild one,” Lan remarks, seeing where my attention has gravitated.
I nod to Harrison. “Ready the ship.”
I push away from the railing and head down the quarterdeck steps, glad to have something else to focus on. Harrison is on my heels barking orders.
“Storm ahead, boys!” He bellows. “Strike the top gallants! Reef the sails! Double lash the guns!”
As I head down to my cabin, instead of foreboding at the oncoming storm, all I feel is relief because at least it will take my mind off the incessant thoughts of Fox.