XII.
He took a step closer. "Are you sure?"
Meg reached up and caressed his face. Her breath caught as his hands settled on her waist once again.
"What I am sure of is that right now, there is no one else I'd rather be with," she murmured. "You have shown me that even after all the heartache and loss I've suffered, there is still much to look forward to. For a while, I really didn't believe I'd ever be happy again."
He raised an eyebrow as his hands slid up to rest several inches below her breasts. "And what exactly are you looking forward to?" As his thumbs traced slow circles over the thin material of her gown, Meg's heart began to pound.
"I-I don't quite know. As you are my tutor, so to speak, I suppose I shall have to leave the manner and pace of the lessons to your discretion."
He gave her a cocky smile. "I think I'll have no trouble keeping your attention focused. But in order to prevent your stomach from distracting you while I am trying to reinforce a certain concept, I suggest we eat first."
Meg felt her bravado suddenly evaporate. She blushed, and dropped her gaze. However, when her eyes met his bare chest, she found herself unable to look away.
"See something you like?" he inquired, a teasing tone creeping into his voice.
"I was just thinking how hungry I am," she said hastily, turning away. She went over to the table and lit a candle with the match Joji had left them.
His strong arms closed around her, and Billy drew her against his chest. "Liar," he murmured, kissing her just below her left ear. He chuckled as she squirmed in his arms.
"I am not! I am just hungry."
Billy released her, grinning as he picked up the bottle of rum. He took a swallow, then passed her the bottle. "You are avoiding the question. When we have a situation where a member of the crew is being less than forthcoming, there is a time honored tradition aboard the Walrus of playing a certain drinking game. Ever heard of Questions and Commands?"
"No." She eyed him dubiously, then took a sip from the bottle, blinking as the liquid warmed her throat.
His smile broadened. "Then i'll have the pleasure of introducing you to it. But first, we eat."
They sat down and ate in companionable silence. After they finished, Billy set the bottle in the middle of the table, and leaned forward.
"Now, this game is taken very seriously on this ship, and I've learned from the best there is. Flint is a true master of the strategy that's involved. The premise of the game is that each player in turn must take a drink, then choose either to answer a question-truthfully, I should emphasize-" He gave her a narrow look, then continued, "Or obey a command given to them."
"And what if you don't want to answer the question or follow the command?"
"Per the Flint rules, there is no alternative." Billy lowered his voice. "But there is another variation that I have played in other settings that does allow for another option. Since I am a gentleman, I'll allow you to choose. Do you want to play by the traditional rules? Or would you rather follow a set of rules that offer an alternative?"
"What's the alternative?"
"If you refuse your question or command, you must take off an article of clothing. Your choice as to which." A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "Of course, you would be at somewhat of a disadvantage, seeing as how you have only a chemise on."
Meg promptly got up from her chair and retrieved his shirt, slipping it on over her shoulders. She turned to give him a confident smile. "Now that I've got an insurance plan, I'll take the amended Flint rules."
"Feeling a bit cocky, are you?" Billy leaned back in his chair, wincing slightly as a bolt of pain shot down his leg.
"Not cocky. Just composed. Now one more question-what subjects are off limits?"
"None."
"None?" she swallowed. "And as far as the commands-what exactly can one be ordered to do?"
"Well, we are somewhat limited in that we are confined to this room for now. So you can't command me to go find Flint and tell him he's a vicious, cunning prick. But you could command me to warm your bed tonight." He paused for an instant, then grinned. "That's just a random example, understand."
Meg rolled her eyes, and chose to ignore him. "So the possibilities are endless, in a way. I suppose that's where the creativity comes in."
"Exactly." Billy nodded, and eyed her speculatively. "I think you'll catch on quickly. Since I am a benevolent master, I'll allow you to go first."
She thought for a moment, then gave him a sly glance. "Alright, Mr. Manderley. Question or command?"
Billy took a swig from the bottle, then set it down with a thump. "Question."
"What is one embarrassing story I should know about you?"
"Hmm." He cleared his throat. "I once had much too much to drink-it was my birthday, understand, and it was our first proper week off in months-and danced a hornpipe at one of the Nassau taverns."
"That's it? Dancing the hornpipe?" Meg gave him an incredulous look. "Come on, you can do better than that."
He reached for the bottle again. "Well, I was naked-and had a woman's wig on."
She laughed, and looked at him mischievously. "Let me guess-long blonde hair?"
"That's the one." He raised the bottle in salute, and took a drink. "Now your turn, Miss Davies. Question or command?"
He passed her the rum. Meg raised it to her lips, took a deep breath, then swallowed, coughing as the liquid burned her throat. She glared at Billy, who appeared vastly entertained. "Command."
"You will come over here, sit very prettily on my lap, and tell me exactly what you were thinking when you were staring at my chest earlier."
She lifted her chin, her mouth set in a stubborn pout. "That's three things! You can only ask me to do one."
He raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Kiss me-with passion-until I count to 10."
Meg stood up, her back straight. She made sure she was modestly covered by his shirt, then came over and stood in front of him, her shoulders squared. "Define 'with passion.'"
Billy's eyes locked with hers. "I think you know exactly what I mean." His speech was ever so slightly slurred, and she guessed that lack of sleep was causing the alcohol to take effect sooner than it normally would have. He reached for her, the muscles in his arms rippling in the candlelight. Meg, powerless to resist, felt herself take a step forward. He guided her onto his lap, settling his hands possessively on the curve of her bottom. She blinked, and realized that she was straddling him, her hands on his shoulders.
"You are a very dangerous man, Billy Bones." She dimly recognized that her voice had subtly changed, and found it puzzling. She sounded sure of herself-almost seductive.
"Am I?"
Meg nodded, a smile stealing across her face.
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because somehow, I quite like it." She leaned over, and touched her lips to the base of his throat.
He took in a breath. "That's a good start, Miss Davies, but you'll have to do better than that."
"Then start counting," she murmured.
"One."
Meg traced the length of one collarbone, then the other.
"Two."
She sensed a slight change in the contour of his smooth skin, and saw an faded, irregular scar several inches below his left collarbone.
"You were hurt," she murmured, pressing her lips to the scar.
Images flashed into his mind.
Charles Vane. Tobias Nelson. Knives flashing through the air. Molly screaming.
"It was just a scratch. I barely remember how it happened."
Meg felt his body tense slightly under her hands.
"I suppose you have some things in your past that you don't want to remember. I feel that way myself often enough." Her tongue darted out to touch the slightly puckered flesh that marked the healed wound, and he gasped.
"Three. I'd just like to point out that you haven't reached my mouth yet."
Meg looked up, and gave him a wicked grin. "You didn't specify where I had to kiss you."
She kissed him again, inhaling his scent. He smelled of the fresh open air, with notes of musk and the herbs from the poultice. Meg laid her cheek against the hard surface of his chest for a moment, revelling in his warmth. He felt so solid, so strong. She could not recall ever feeling so safe.
"How did you get such an amazing body?" she blurted out, only belatedly realizing how awed she sounded.
His chest rumbled with laughter. "You're getting off task," he murmured teasingly, gently slapping her bottom.
Meg touched her lips to his skin. "You're a hard man to please."
"Four. I have to disagree. You're doing quite well."
His grip tightened on her hair slightly as she continued.
"Five...six...seven."
His breathing became more uneven as she warmed to her task.
"Eight..nine…"
Her tongue flicked against his nipple, and he stifled a groan.
"Christ, Meg…. "
Meg sucked on it ever so slightly, and he jerked against her.
"Ten." He eased her off his lap, his voice hoarse. "I'll give you full marks on that one. Now hand me the bottle and give me a question. I need a distraction."
She watched him drink, his throat working as he took two large swallows.
"If you could do anything-live anywhere-what would you choose?"
He sighed, and shook his head. "That's a hard one. I try not to spend time on what ifs. I didn't plan to become a pirate, but it's my livelihood now-my destiny. And not many pirates live long enough to ease into old age."
"Oh, Billy." The note of despair in his voice touched her heart.
"It's a fact, Meg," he replied curtly. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, and his expression softened. "But to answer your question, I suppose I'd choose to own my own merchant ship-or maybe shipping company. I'd spend the winters in the Caribbean, and the summers in England. God, how I miss the beauty of an English summer morning...the grass shining with the dew, roses scenting the air with their fragrance, children laughing as they play tag on the way to school…" His eyes were faraway, and she reached for his hand.
"That future could be yours someday, Billy."
"Perhaps." He shook his head, then gave her a smile."But right now, it is your turn."
She dutifully took a swig of rum, noting that it seemed much smoother now.
"Question or command?"
Meg locked eyes with him. "Command."
"You seem to enjoy having me order you about."
"Don't get used to it," she replied lightly.
"Then take off my shirt-and it stays off for the rest of the evening."
"You think that will give you some sort of advantage?" Meg inquired, arching an eyebrow at him.
He smirked. "It would seem so, doesn't it?"
She whipped the shirt off, tossing it to the bed.
"Your turn, Mr. Bones."
Picking up the bottle, he drank, wiping his mouth with his hand.
Meg looked at the flask. "It's funny, but the more we drink, the better it seems to taste."
Billy laughed. "A common occurrence with rum." He cocked his head. "Let's mix it up. Command this time."
"Okay." She thought for a moment. "The first command you gave me-but on the bed."
He shifted slightly in his chair, and cleared this throat. "Let me get this straight-you want me to take you over to the bed, and kiss you until you count to 10?"
"Kiss me with passion," she clarified, unaware that her grey eyes were sparkling in a way that made Billy nearly come undone.
"Thank you for clearing that up," he said, suppressing a smile as he eased himself out of his chair and came over to her. "Since I still have an injured leg, be a good girl and make this easy on me. Stand up on your chair and put your arms around my neck."
She climbed onto her chair, swaying slightly as she laid her hands on his shoulders. Billy swung her into his arms, looking down at her with concern. "Are you alright? You don't feel sick, do you?"
She smiled up at him, and ran a finger over the stubble on his cheek."Not at all. Never felt better, in fact. God, I never realized a man with a day's growth of beard could be so attractive."
As chuckled, and headed toward the bed. Meg leaned down, reaching for the bottle. "Wait! Don't forget to the bring the rum to bed with us."
"To hell with the rum," he muttered.
"Billy, we're not in hell." she smiled, and put her finger to his lips. "I can tell, because you're here with me."
"Okay." He laughed out loud.
"You're making fun of me." She gave him a reproachful look as he leaned over to put her in the bed.
"I am not." Suddenly, he stumbled. His leg gave way, and they tumbled onto the bed.
"Fuck!" Billy gritted his teeth as a spasm of pain tore through his thigh. Meg, pinned under him, froze.
"Billy, are you alright? What can I do?"
"It'll pass-just give me a moment." He rolled off her, closing his eyes and gripping his lower thigh. "I'm sorry, Meg. For my language- and for nearly crushing you to death with my bulk."
"It's alright." Meg turned onto her side. "Even my father had moments where he resorted to language that was somewhat salty, shall we say? And as you can see, I am quite undamaged."
He opened one eye, and turned his head to glance at her. "There is still the matter of the command you gave me."
She swept her eyes over his body, and gave him a dubious look. "Do you feel up to it?"
In one smooth motion, he drew her to him, pressing her body against his. "Let's see, a beautiful woman who was lost to me long ago suddenly re-appears in my life and ends up in my bed." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I'm more than up for it." He kissed her then, his lips warm and gentle. "And you?" Billy nuzzled her neck, his breath on her skin causing her to feel a pleasant ache deep in her belly.
"Yes," she breathed. His mouth lowered to meet hers, the kiss deepening as his tongue expertly teased her lips into parting for him. He tasted of whiskey, the peaty notes betraying its Scottish origins. One warm hand stroked the soft skin just under her right breast, causing her to melt into his touch. A wave of desire swept over her, and she placed her hand on his, moving it up to cup her breast. He squeezed it gently, and she moaned, arching her back. Her nipple slid from underneath the thin fabric, the hard pink nub beckoning his mouth.
"Meg…" he was breathing heavily now, her name almost a moan.
"Billy… please."
He hovered above her for a moment, his mouth surrounding the pale pink areola. Then his tongue swept across her nipple, the sensual friction making her gasp. The feeling was exquisite, a jolt of pure pleasure shooting from her breast to somewhere deep between her legs. When he began to suckle, she dug her nails into his back, the sensation almost sending her over the edge.
"Wait for me," he rasped, one hand tearing at his breeches.
"I-don't-"
"Wait!" His voice was urgent now. He guided one of her hands to settle at his groin, and her eyes widened as he allowed her to explore the length and breadth of him. Taking in a slow, ragged breath, he placed his hand over his, urging her into a slow, rhythmic motion.
As his mouth returned to her nipple, she moaned. An uneasy feeling was roiling in her lower abdomen, a sense of building frustration that demanded some sort of release. When his hand settled on her other breast, his thumb and index finger stroking and caressing the nipple, a spasm of pure ecstasy tore through her. Meg cried out his name, then felt his muscular frame shudder against her at the same time.
His whole body shook once more, and she felt his release.
"God, Meg, you're sweeter than I thought possible," he rasped, his lips skimming over her breast.
Another wave of sensual pleasure shot through her belly.
"Billy, what are you doing to me?" she cried out, stiffening against him. "I can't stop-"
He laid his hand over her mouth.
"Shh, sweetheart. You'll rouse the entire ship."
Meg stared at him, her eyes hazy with desire. After a few moments, she felt the last rhythmic echoes fade away, and relaxed against him.
He removed his hand, and gave her a lingering kiss. When he finally drew back, she glanced at him, suddenly feeling shy. "What was that?"
Billy tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled. "That, Miss Davies, was-"
The door suddenly shook as someone pounded against it. "Billy-Miss Davies-I've a message from the Captain."
Meg saw a flicker of annoyance cross Billy's handsome features. "Silver."
"Ignore him," she whispered. "He'll go away."
There was silence for a moment, then Silver spoke once again.
"Miss Davies, the Captain has decided he wants a word with you. Alone. I'll be back in five minutes to take you to him. And please be ready on time-his temper only gets worse if he's kept waiting."
A little longer chapter again this time, but it was fun to write. Hope you enjoyed.
Next time-Flint has plans for Meg.