Page 79 of Of Magic and Rum
Dark, ominous clouds litter the sky as we row in three dinghies, growing closer and closer to the London Bridge. Anne and Glog sit behind me, and we’ve removed anything on our persons that might give us away as pirates. My shirt sleeve covers down to my wrist to disguise my tattoo, my hair’s tied back, and I left my captain’s jacket in my quarters. We will appear as fishermen and wouldn’t have a “captain” on a tiny boat. The sight of the buildings in the distance makes me uneasy, and the hanging scents of oil, perfume, and horse shit agitate me. Thinking I’d never have reason to be back here was foolish.
“Remember. Our mission is to find repair supplies. We don’t stop for any other reason, keep your heads down, and donotrun.” I lean back with each stroke, rubbing my palms against the oar’s wood.
“Want me to talk to the shop clerks? Figure you’re the most recognizable of us,” Glog asks.
“Fair point and a grand idea, mate.”
Anne’s chin appears on my shoulder. “I hope you realize how backward this is pretending to be afisherman’swife. Cannibalistic, really.”
Smirking, I turn just enough to give her lips a quick peck. “In and out, love. Why don’t you focus more on the wife portion of it, hm?”
Anne has yet to remove her head from my shoulder, and I can feel her smile through the thin fabric of my shirt. “Was that a proposal?”
It’s impossible to hide how my upper body tenses at this. Not that the idea of it disgusts me. I only never thought I’d find a woman I could see spending the rest of my life with, let alone making one mywife.
“Did you—want it to be?” I say the words slowly, keeping my tone neutral.
She laughs and pokes me in the ribs. “I’m not sure I’ll ever grow tired of making you sweat, Jack.”
Chuckling, half-heartedly, I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m going to hold you to that when we’re back on board, Miss Bonny.” I jut my chin at her oars. “Now, back to rowing.”
Anne lets out a final laugh before the butt of said oar is jammed into my side, making me grunt. The London port is characteristically bustling with activity. Dozens of dinghies matching ours float between larger fishing boats. There are two tall ships within the massive mix, undoubtedly belonging to privateers—bloody traitors. A forlorn sigh pushes from my lungs because this is the last place I wish to be.
“Captain, if we’re supposed to be fishermen, shouldn’t we have, I don’t know,fishon our boats?” Glog asks while we’re paces away from the dock.
“Shit.” I look at Anne pleadingly. “Would you be a dear? I promise we’ll toss them back.” Pressing my hands together in prayer, I offer her my best fluttering puppy eyes.
Anne glares at me while she does it, but soon, our dinghies have flapping fish and enough water for them to survive, but not so much to sink our boats. I pick one up and smear its scales over my face, neck, and hands.
“What in the name of the Seas are you doing?” Anne asks, sneering at me.
After I feel sufficiently scented, I toss the fish back into the water. “You think fishermen smell like lilacs?”
“No.” Anne slaps her hands atop her thighs, and rises. “But I’m sure you’re thankful Idosmell like lilacs versus the alternative.” She eyes one of the fish in the boat.
“And I have been ever the gentleman not insinuating nor asking such a question of a lady.” I bow my head just as the boat bumps against the dock.
Much like every other time, Anne’s laughter gives me renewed life and purpose. She kisses me as she passes, and I offer a hand to help hoist her onto the wooden planks. She takes it, and I swat her ass on the way up.
Glog steps forward and daintily holds out his hand. “Going to help me too, Cap?”
I smack his fingers. “Get up there yourself, you knob.”
We’ve made it to port, our dinghies docked, and no one the wiser. London may be risky due to how active the Navy is here, but it’s also prime for blending in with its constantly expanding population. Horses’ hooves clop along cobblestone roads, and so many pairs of feet are walking the streets that it creates a constant dust plume. The gray clouds have muted the setting sun, and they’ve begun to light the torches bordering the walkways.
Ragnar and Mary are behind us, and I point at the gunpowder shop that they’re to visit. We used most of ours, continuously firing the cannons, and no longer have reserves. They nod and disappear into the store.
We continue to walk, and I keep my chin lowered. My body freezes whenever we pass anyone resembling a Navy sailor or officer. We near every manner of shop selling poultry, linens, and jewelry but have yet to find one for carpentry. I pause long enough to get my bearings before Anne’s hand curls around the back of my neck, and she yanks me into an alleyway. Whether she’s suddenly grown extremely horny or she’s doing this for a reason, I don’t give a shit. My hands are instantly groping her back, up to her shoulders, kissing her, nipping at her lips. Breathlessly, I whirl us around until I’m in front of her and press her to the stone wall.
Anne flutters her eyes open, those pale fingers tracing her reddened lips. The way she’s looking at me like she’ll never get enough of this, has me pressing my hardened cock against her stomach.
“There was a Naval officer lingering on you too long for comfort. I was scared he recognized you,” she says.
My precious Anne.
Pressing an arm above her head, I grip her waist and grin. “If you wanted to have your way with me in an alley, all you had to do was ask, Annie. No need to make excuses.”
“Jack,” Anne laughs and shoves my hip. “I’m being serious.”
