Page 70 of Crossbones
I can’t lose him.
The ship shudders and a gust pushes us to port enough to bring us back from the edge of imminent danger. Blackwell slams into the side of the ship and I pull him up over the side.
“I don’t think you should swim in that, Captain!” I shout, panting out the words and trying to make light of the situation even though my heart is in my fucking throat.
His lips twitch in an almost-smile. The thought of losing him to the ocean makes me physically ill. A crew member calls to him from the bow and with a squeeze of my arm, he’s gone.
I turn away, battling the wind and water to get back to the helm.
I look behind us where the whirlpool is ominously surging. We’re out of harm’s way where that’s concerned, but fuck if that wasn’t the scare of a lifetime.
Harrison is gone, but the two other men have lashed themselves there so as not to get swept away. I clasp one on the shoulder, checking to make sure all is well, before heading down below. My shoulder is killing me and I know I tore my stitches.
The pitch of the ship isn’t as bad now as we sail out of the worst of it. Just before I duck into the hallway leading below, I scan the deck one last time—mainly looking for Blackwell. The urgency to see him, whole and safe, is a physical sensation low in my gut. It’s suddenly the only thing on my mind. My pace quickens, anxiety making my breath short.
The vision of him sliding towards the whirlpool continues to run through my mind—a vivid nightmare that’s making it hard to catch my breath. I almost lost him—
I shove open the door and my mouth goes dry. Blackwell is shirtless, wiping water off his face with his back to me. Bronze skin glistens with water, muscles bunch in his shoulders as he drags his hands down his face. The cutof his abs as he turns makes my chilled skin warm to an alarming degree. His pants are half unbuttoned and I follow the cut of him down to where muscle disappears under the band of his pants, a dark dusting of hair just visible with how low they’re sitting. He’s perfection—I don’t realize he’s noticed me until he clears his throat.
“I suppose you’re searching for a thank you?” He says.
“What?” I forcefully make myself look back up at his face.
“For saving my ass out there,” he says. “I think that’s three times now?”
“Oh right—well, I feel like I’ll be owing you for awhile after Malik—”
Blackwell stalks towards me. “Is that why?” He stops in front of me, close enough to feel the heat of him. “Is that the only reason?”
“You know it’s not, James.”
His gaze drops to my lips. “Yeah, I do,” he says gruffly.
His hand slips to the back of my neck, and then his lips are on mine.
JAMES
My grip tightens possessively as I drag him closer. My lips find his and it’s like coming home. Caspian immediately presses into me, returning the kiss with an urgency I can feel in my blood. Our teeth clash, tongues dueling—both of us forget how to breathe. A soft gasp escapes, only to immediately be inhaled by him as he pulls my lower lip between his teeth. I’m drowning in him and I don’t want to be saved.
Caspian’s hands slide up my chest and it's like being touched by fire. I shove him into the wall, hips pressing against his, feeling his arousal that mirrors mine. I’m painfully hard—from just a fucking kiss. His hands are in my hair now, shaking with intensity as I drink in every single breath he gives me—he’s like a drug I didn’t even know I was addicted to.
The door opens and we spring apart so violently I’m momentarily disoriented. We’re both struggling to catch our breath as Harrison steps in with Van right behind him. Harrison takes one look between the two of us and shakes his head while Van is gaping at Caspian who’s still staring at me—his eyes are black pits, all the blue consumed by lust. There’s no hiding what is still vibrating between us.
“Sorry to interrupt whateverthisis, Captain,” Harrison says dryly. “But we’ve sustained pretty significant damage and need to make port.”
Caspian’s eyes are locked on mine. “If I may?” He’s still a little breathless. “The closest port is Foxhollow—”
“Caspian—” Van snaps.
“We can repair the ship and resupply there,” Caspian continues, ignoring Van.
“You can’t be serious,” Vanstorms. “You’re going to compromise everything!” He steps towards Caspian, demanding his attention. “They’re pirates—”
Caspian drags his eyes away from me. “Some things are worth the risk, Van,” he says, and even though he’s glaring at his quartermaster, I know those words are for me. “Set sail northeast for Foxhollow.”
Harrison looks at me for confirmation and I wave a hand. “Do it.”
“Caspian, please—” Van pleads.
