Page 87 of Blow Me Down
“You want to take a bath? Now?” Corbin asked when I reentered his cabin.
Bam gave the big copper and wood tub one last shove so that it sat in the middle of the cabin. Several younger crewmates were hauling in seawater in large leather containers. Others were carefully carrying copper pots with heated water.
“No, you’re going to take one,” I said, waggling my eyebrows at him as I oversaw the filling of the tub. Five minutes later, the water was at a temperature and level I liked. I thanked the crewmates and shooed them out the door before closing and relocking it. “I know real stitches need to be kept dry, but I doubt if a little water will harm yours. Besides, that wound needs to be kept clean, and what better way to ensure that than to bathe all of you?”
His frown faded. “You’re going to bathe me?”
“Oh, yes. Normally I’d pass on this opportunity since most tubs just aren’t made for any extracurricular activities, but since this one is amply built, I thought we could give it a whirl.” I pulled a palm-sized bottle out of my cleavage. “And to make sure your skin is soft and supple, I’m adding a little lemon oil to the water.”
He watched with interest as I poured a dollop of the aromatic oil into the tub.
The scent of tangy lemon filled the air of the cabin, making me lick my lips as I knelt next to the tub.
“Stop that,” Corbin said, his eyes flashing silver at me as he tore at the leather laces of his jerkin.
“Stop what?” I purred, swishing my hand around in the water to distribute the oil. I bit my lower lip, running my tongue along it with much deliberation.
“That! Stop licking your lips! It’s driving me wild. I want to do it.”
I stood up and tugged on the laces of my bodice. “That’s the idea, handsome.”
He started toward me. I held up a hand to stop him. “You have to be naked and wet first.”
If there was a land-speed record for disrobing, I’m willing to bet Corbin came close to breaking it. One moment he was standing there dressed in his breeches, shirt, and jerkin; the next mere was a lemon-scented splash as he flung himself into the tub. “Done. Now, bring those lips here, wench.”
“That’s Captain Wench to you, me bucko,” I said, shucking my striped knickers, underwear, and bodice until I was clad only in my loose linen shirt. I grabbed a sea sponge and a round ball of soap, kneeling next to the tub. Corbin reached for me again, but I put a hand on his damp chest and held him back.
“Hang on, let me look at your wound.”
“It’s almost healed,” he told me as I leaned close to his belly to give the injury a long look. “No blood poisoning, as you were predicting. I think the stitches could come out, as a matter of fact.”
I gently prodded the area around the stitches. I had to admit, he was right—it was almost healed. Bless the game’s accelerated healing. “Yeah, I think you’re right about the stitches. I’ll take them out now.”
He leaned back while I gently snipped the threads with a tiny pocket knife, carefully removing them.
“You’re sure this isn’t just an excuse to ogle my manly chest?”
“Shh. Delicate work here. Your stomach moves when you talk, and I don’t want to accidentally poke you by mistake.” He was silent while I picked the last of the threads off, smiling when I folded up the knife and tossed it back onto his desk. “I wish things healed this well and this fast in real life. And for the record, I never predicted blood poisoning. I was just worried about it, but this looks wonderful. It’s not giving you any pain or discomfort?”
He wrapped both arms around me and swung me over the edge of the tub. I shrieked as I landed with a splash on his slippery wet thighs. “Would I be able to do that if it was giving me pain?”
“No, I suppose not, although now my shirt is wet,” I said, looking down at myself. The thin linen was plastered to my skin, leaving every morsel of me clearly visible.
Corbin slid his hands up my stomach to cup my breasts, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on my hardening nipples. “I wonder if real pirates did this. The original wet T-shirt contest.”
I gasped when he leaned forward and took one of my aching breasts in his mouth, sucking it through the wet material of the shirt. His teeth scraped along my nipple, sending little streaks of molten desire through my veins, leaving me shivering even though my internal temperature seemed to have risen at least a hundred degrees.
“I’m supposed to… I’m supposed to… oh, my God, Corbin. Do that again!”
He did it again, to my eagerly awaiting second breast, then carefully peeled the wet shirt off me and threw it carelessly toward the bed. I clutched his shoulders as his fingers slid down my spread thighs, the oil in the water adding a friction that made his normally arousing touch something so erotic, I trembled on the verge of an orgasm. “You’re supposed to what, sweetheart?”
“I’m supposed to be bathing you,” I yelped as his fingers turned inward, laying open all my secrets, probing, teasing, tormenting me with little touches and circular sweeps of his thumb that just about had me bursting into song.
“You can have your turn with me in just a—” One long finger sank into me, causing muscles I didn’t know were there to go wild tightening around him.
One last sweep of his thumb was all it took, and I was off flying, my body and mind and soul singing a song of happiness and completion… and love. My back arched as I shouted out his name, aware of nothing but how much a part of me he was.
“—minute,” he finished. I collapsed on his chest, my heart racing. He chuckled as he nuzzled my neck, nipping at my earlobe. “You’re not going to go to sleep on me, are you?”
