Chapter 25 The Calm Before the Storm
Riley
“Gadrielle gave you this?”
Riley’s hands stilled for a breath, then she finished shrugging off her coat, feet braced against the bobbing boat beneath them.
A small grin played on her lips as she caught Calla’s appraising look, something dangerously close to pride swelling in her chest. “I thought you were never going to notice.”
Calla reached to rub the material between her fingers. “Gadrielle doesn’t usually give the blue sash before one full year spent aboard.” She gave Riley a soft smile. “You must’ve impressed her.”
Riley’s neck warmed, and the swelling feeling in her chest suddenly became too big for comfort. “I…” She cleared the lump of emotion from her throat, looking back up at the Moonshadow–which hosted the perfect distraction. She narrowed her eyes. “How many pirates are on shift tonight?”
When Calla followed her gaze, several of the peering heads disappeared beneath the railing. Her smile grew amused. “Not that many.”
Riley scoffed and shifted to shuffle out of her pants. The chill of the night prickled against her bare legs, and she was eager to get into the warmer water of the sea. “Think we should invite them too?” Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt.
Calla’s cool hand settled on her wrist, making Riley pause. The amusement was gone, replaced by a look that made Riley’s skin prickle again, and not with the cold. “I think,” Calla said, licking her lips as she glanced up at the Moonshadow. “That you should keep your underclothes on this time.”
Riley’s gaze lingered on the shine of Calla’s lips under the moonlight, and she swallowed. “Why?” she asked quietly.
Never taking her eyes off her, Calla leaned in until her breath ghosted Riley’s mouth.
“Because now that I know what it’s like to have you gasping and trembling under my fingers, I won’t be able to control myself if I feel you bare against me in the water.
” Calla leaned closer, a cool breath against her ear.
“I would take you right there, with the entire crew pretending not to watch.”
An undignified sound escaped Riley’s throat, and the breath against her ear, her neck–those words–they made her shudder with want. Calla hadn’t even touched her.
Leaning back with a teasing smile, Calla shrugged off her captain’s coat. “Your choice. I’ll be waiting.” With that, she slipped into the water, still clothed, leaving Riley alone on the boat and gaping like a fish on land.
It seemed that she’d been worried for nothing.
Or that her plan had worked before they’d even made it in the water properly.
Either way, Riley was not complaining, and she toyed with the hem of her shirt as the ripples where Calla had disappeared quietened, swallowed by the soft motion of the waves.
She glanced up at the Moonshadow again. More than a few pirates lounged about on deck, their heads dark silhouettes against the moon’s backdrop, and she breathed in.
Slow and deep and cooling. Then she dove in after Calla, with her underclothes still on.
When Riley’s head broke the surface of the water with a gasp, Calla was right there with her, inches away. Her eyes flicked to the soaked shirt clinging to Riley’s shoulders.
“We’ll try to make your swimming look a little less like you’re fighting for your life tonight,” Calla said. Her lips twitched in amusement when Riley shot her an affronted look. “I can’t promise any miracles, but we’ll try.”
Riley wanted to scowl at the tease, but there was a glint in Calla’s eye that hadn’t been there in days, and her lips split into a grin instead, warmth flickering in her chest. The tease still begged for retribution, though, and Riley had the brilliant idea to splash her hand against the water.
She’d intended to splash Calla. As it turned out, though, trying to keep herself above the surface with just one hand was still quite above her skill level, and she stumbled beneath the surface, gasping in a lungful of seawater for good measure.
Steady, firm arms encircled her, bringing her back to the surface.
Calla’s face was a breath away from hers, hair spilling like wet ink past her shoulders, droplets of water clinging to her chin and eyelashes.
She looked like she belonged here, in this moment, with Riley, and Riley would’ve kissed her if the sole sight of her hadn’t made her forget how to fucking breathe.
Then a cough racked up her throat, pulverizing the moment.
Calla arched an eyebrow at her. Still close. Still not letting go. “Or maybe we can go back to the basics?” she asked.
Riley glowered. “I was just–” But then she caught the small, teasing smile playing on her lips. She huffed out a laugh, and now that Calla was lending her support, she did what she’d meant to before, and splashed her.
Calla ducked her head. “Riley. I will let you sink,” she warned, even as her grip tightened.
Riley grinned, warmth curling soft and cozy beneath her ribs. “You would never.”
“Do not test me.”
Riley bit her lip, drawing Calla’s eyes with the movement.
Her glance was quick. Subtle. Wanton. The cozy warmth morphed into something simmering.
Maybe Riley could still take the rest of her clothes off.
How much would their nosy crew really see under the water, during the night, at this distance?
And did she truly care? Before Riley could make up her mind about that, Calla drifted a few paces away, taking the warmth with her.
“Swim.”
Riley narrowed her eyes at the command. She wanted to be defiant. She wanted to push Calla, see what happened. But she also wanted to prove herself, please her, and right now, one impulse won over the other.
Riley swam.
Calla’s head disappeared beneath the surface, and suddenly she was near again, circling. Prodding. Adjusting her movements. All silent. All handsy. Before long, Riley was short of breath, and the swimming had little to do with it. Calla’s touches lingered. As if they were seared onto her skin.
This was how she would die. Imploding. Because Calla was going to tease her to death.
When her muscles ached to the point where Riley was ready to plead for mercy, Calla reappeared above water.
Close, but not close enough to touch. Riley tried to catch her breath as Calla stared at her, but that was impossible with how that gaze assessed her.
Appraised her. As if she were pleased. As if Riley had done well.
“Do you need a break?” Calla asked, head tilting in challenge.
Riley was ready to flop over and sleep for three days. Still, she didn’t hesitate as she said, “No.”
Maybe she should’ve hesitated, because Calla’s lips curled in satisfaction, and that smile–it felt dangerous. “Do you trust me?” Calla asked, drifting closer.
Riley swallowed. Months ago, there would’ve been no honest answer to that question other than a resounding ‘fuck no.’ But a, “Yes,” slipped from her lips now, as easy as breathing.
It settled small and quiet in the space between them, but the magnitude of it made Riley’s heart race.
The weight of it settled in her chest and expanded under that cool blue gaze.
Her ears rang with it. Yes. Yes. Yes. She might as well have shouted it.
Quietly, Calla held out her hand.
Riley took it. Her fingers were wet, soft, and smooth beneath her own. The warmth of this moment spread like a flush under her skin.
“We’ll go under the surface,” Calla said. “And you will try to swim back up once I let go of your hand. Remember, work with the water, not against it.”
Riley swallowed again, this time in concern, but it didn’t linger. Not with Calla holding on to her and looking at her like this.
“Hold your breath.”
Riley inhaled deeply and held it, and she barely had the time to blink before Calla tugged her under the surface.
She was strong. Her grip was tight on Riley’s hand, pulling her easily along.
As water closed in above her head, and Calla dragged her deeper and deeper, a pressure pressed in on Riley’s chest, heavy, nearly suffocating.
She concentrated on Calla’s hand in hers.
Even as they went further than Riley thought she had the strength or skill to fight her way back through, all she allowed herself to focus on was the feel of Calla’s fingers around her own, their warmth, their strength.
Calla’s trust that Riley would rise to this challenge–that she was good enough.
Without warning, Calla halted their descent, and then her hand slipped from Riley’s grasp as she turned to look at her, raising an expectant eyebrow.
Riley lingered. Her held breath pulsed and thrashed in her chest, urging her to move, to seek relief, but she couldn’t not linger. She’d never seen Calla below the surface like this, with the soft moonlight bathing her features in the water. Riley would die before robbing herself of this sight.
Because Calla was breathtaking, and Riley was struck dumb with it.
Her hair flowed in the gentle currents, silky black strands spreading out behind her like dark shadows.
Her blue eyes were sharp and intense, but the curve of her mouth was slack in surprise.
Her ears–her fins, usually hidden by her hair, were spread out in open curiosity.
And–Riley blinked. She’d thought the three thin, even lines on each side of Calla’s neck to be some sort of scars, but now they were gaped open, breathing.
Gills. Something shuttered in Calla’s face as Riley stared, and she forced her gaze away, lower, and spotted something else.
A silver necklace around Calla’s throat, peeking from under her soaked shirt.
It was only ever visible during their swimming lessons.