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High Seas Enchanted

4/30/2021

“I knew this cruise was a bad idea,” Libby mumbled on her way out of the bathroom as the ship rocked from the storm.
It had been evening when she and Neil had returned from the ship’s last stop at a beach fair. A roll of thunder sounded from above. Storms always made her uneasy. This was supposed to be a calm time of year in the gulf—the only reason she’d, finally, let Aunt Mave bully her into coming on this ‘singles’ cruise. Now a freak thunderstorm had come up.
As she brushed her teeth at the sink in her cabin, her eyes glanced behind her in the mirror, squinting at something on the bed by the pillows.
“What in the world?”
Wiping toothpaste off of her chin, she walked to the bed, stopping cold at its edge. Her eyes rounded.
“Neil,” she grinned, reaching for the note on top of the old book from the market. “What a prankster.”

You needed to have this.
- Neil

It read, short and sweet.
She laughed, wondering if he’d really make a move on the ship’s captain. At least one of them would get some action tonight.
“Okay, hot pirate dude,” she picked up the book then climbed into bed, “let’s get another look at you.”
Painted on the very first page was the best looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. Black hair, green eyes and a physique that could make a nun weep shone on the yellowed paper. She paged through. The whole book showed images of hot-ass-pirate-guy in amorous positions with different women. Her nipples hardened just looking. Jeez! She really needed to get laid. Here she was drooling over a picture in a book from the… what was the copyright on this thing, anyway?
Flipping back, she found an inscription inside the front cover.
“Weird.” She ran her fingers over the writing.

“Slave of hearts, I call on thee
to slake my lust, your purpose shall be.
Time’s prisoner for time to use
till the true of heart his heart doth choose.”

She wrinkled her nose at the dark poetry.
“A little heavy for old timey porn, but okayyy.”
Just as she moved to set the book down, the gentle sway of the ship grew more aggressive. The lights in the cabin flickered, going out momentarily.
“Oh, no! What’s going on? Help!!” She jumped out of the bed before everything calmed.
“Great. Way to act like a hysterical moron, Libs. I hope no one heard me.”
“Oh, I heard you, lass. And I’m definitely here to help.”
Her head snapped around at the sound of a man’s voice.
“Uhhh,” she blinked over and over, her jaw falling open.
Him! It was him. Mister Lick-Me-Like-Your-Favorite-Flavor-Popsicle guy from the book! She shook her head.
“It’s not possible.”
He blinked, his eyes darkening as his mouth lifted in a wholly sensual smile. He wore a soft poet’s style shirt from the eighteenth century or whenever men went prancing around in those things, open all the way to the waistline of his black sailor’s pants. Yeah, and the way those things fit… Her eyes dropped to the bulge between his widespread thighs as he lounged in her chair like he hadn’t just popped in from out of nowhere. She should look away… she really should. An amused chuckle rolled out of him and she jumped, finally bringing her eyes up to his.
“Y-y-you’re not real.”
One dark brow lifted at that. Libby swallowed hard, an electric thrill zipping straight through her belly down to her core. The memory of him in all those lurid pictures raced through her mind. Holy hell—Frank had finally won! The stress from the divorce had broken her. She’d been driven to insanity, and now she was seeing painfully hot men in her manic state.
“Huh, could be worse.”
Hot guy made a face.
“Worse?” He scowled.
Great, imaginary men were giving her attitude now. What the hell kind of slipshod psychosis did her brain plan on running here, anyway?
He dipped his chin to glare at her like she was in so much trouble. Gawd, was that sexy! Moisture pooled between her thighs. Without another word, he stood and stalked toward her, smooth as butter, until he stood in front of her. She froze.
“Sheezus, you move like a cat,” she muttered. “A sexy cat, uh…” his eyes narrowed. “Can a cat be sexy?” She kept babbling. “Hip cat, maybe. Yeah, that’s what I meant… or a cool cat. Oh, god, please shut me up now.”
He grinned wide, leaned closer, then pressed her back onto the bed. Libby sucked in a breath as he followed her down, molding himself against her like he knew every inch of her sex-starved body would naturally yield to him—which it did.
“Granted.” He said.
“Wait, whu…?” she didn’t get another sound out before his mouth crashed down onto hers.
All her erogenous zones sizzled at the feel of his lips. His tongue swept inside while his hands smoothed over her waist, hips and breasts, lighting little fires on her skin everywhere they touched. That bulge at his center she’d admired a moment ago pressed against her core, driving her further into her madness. At this point, she found sanity undeniably overrated. Crazy felt good.
He deepened the kiss, then did something sinful with his hips that had her arching up off the bed. She groaned.
But his mouth lifted away from hers, and he stopped moving. Her eyes flew open.
“And now?” He asked.
“Now?”
That hard part of him between her legs pulsed, and she nearly had a heart attack. He pushed back from her.
“You called me here, mistress,” his rich voice vibrated through the room, “now what do you plan to do with me?”
Libby stared at him. She found her breath, then huffed out a short, little laugh. His muscled chest heaved, and she smiled at the sight.
Oh, yeah, crazy felt perfect.

Copyright © 2021 Amanda V. Shane, First published as High Seas Enchanted in the Wild At Heart PNR Flash Fiction Writing Circle. All rights reserved.