"Captain-"
"James."
"Fine, James. I'll go down to my hammock," she said trying to sit. He pushed her backwards into the blankets with a gentle hand.
"I'm feeling a little guilty for working you so hard. Indulge me, stay where you are," he said. His deep voice was soothing and her eyes closed. Despite the swimminess of her vision and the pain in her head, she wanted him lying next to her, not sat in the chair opposite. How could she be so shallow? After everything he'd done to her over the past week. Could she forget a weeks' worth of slogging and lack of sleep over one act of kindness? One that was borne out of guilt at what he'd done. He should feel guilty. He yawned and she stole a look at him through a barely opened eye. He wasn't looking at her at all but gazed down at a large tome which he held in his long hands. His left leg was propped on his right knee and he was reading. Whatever it was must be engrossing because he managed to ignore the black strands that fell over his face. And what a handsome face it was too.
Molly forced her eyes shut, looking and pining over him wasn't going to help anyone, especially the gathering warmth in her crotch. Every beat of her heart she felt with growing intensity. She'd not felt like this for a long long time and she let out a breath through her nose. It sounded like an odd sigh and she heard James move to look at her, "Are you going to sit there and watch me sleep?" she muttered.
"Do you object?"
"What if I do?" He laughed at her response, "I thought as much."
"No Molly, I'll sit here for as long as I can bare being near you, then I shall go and see how the repairs to my ship are coming along. After I shall try and find some other form of distraction until you are well enough to take yourself away to your own space. Then I shall return and see to the other tasks I need to complete before sleeping," he said. As long as he could bear her? Was she that bad? She rolled onto her side and faced away from where he sat. She shut her eyes and blocked out any thought she had of him, he was a jerk anyway. She reminded herself that she was done with men before she drifted off.
When Molly awoke, the cabin was dark save for a small glowing lantern in the corner. She was alone. She sat up, noticing that a blanket had been thrown over her. She didn't get it, how could James go from being so kind to so cruel in the space of minutes? She stretched and climbed out of bed, feeling more awake than she had for days. She knew she should leave. It wasn't her room and James was a jerk. The whole room carried his scent and she revelled in it despite telling herself not to. She crossed the room to his desk and sat in the large chair. It was comfortable and moulded just to his shape. On the desk was the large book he'd been reading earlier. She wasn't very good at letters but the title was a famous one by author Winston Charles. It was Harmony; Molly didn't know the story very well; something about a young maid finding her feet in the world.
Then she spotted the gold model ship Bess had told her about. It was the size of her fist and heavy as sin when she picked it up. The soft light glinted off the edges of the gold sails and the delicate rigging. She turned it over in her hand, examining every detail of the figurine. It was exquisite and Molly knew why Bess would want such an item. She turned it over once more and noticed the inscription on the bottom for the first time. It read Sea Witch. Bess had lied to her about that too then. It wasn't hers and never was. Molly placed it back on the desk and got up. She should go back on deck and find some work to do, she'd not be accused of shirking but then again, she's done her fair share of work over the last week. It wasn't her cabin though and she should be gone.
She looked around once more and noticed a shelf she'd missed the first time she came into the room. She had been rather drunk and distracted after all. She walked over to it and opened the latch. The doors on the shelves swung open and she examined the range of books and trinkets there. The books were a range of titles, most of which she'd never heard of. Molly couldn't help wonder if the volume where his name had come from was there. She skimmed over the titles and turned her attention to the trinkets. They all shone in the light; there must be over one hundred of the little things on the shelf, little animals made of gold, bronze pots, silver boxes, miniature copper pots, brass etchings. Molly dare not guess at the value of such a collection. Bess' words echoed in her mind but Molly couldn't bring herself to take anything, they were so pretty, they belonged together and that's where they'd remain. She was a lousy a thief as she was a fighter. Be that as it may, she shut the shelves once more and latched the doors closed.
Molly was about to make her exit when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded for a moment and she glanced around. Without knowing why, she jumped into the large armoire and pulled the door shut. She was still wondering why the hell she'd done so when James walked in. She watched through the small crack in the doors as he crossed the room and sat on the bed. She had no idea what time it was but she guessed it was late. He shrugged off his heavy frock jacket and tugged off his boots. He leaned back on the bed and let out a large sigh. Molly watched as he grabbed the blanket she'd been lying under, he curled it round his hands before bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. Was he breathing in her scent as she'd been breathing in his? He threw the blanket to the floor and sat up. He crossed the room and sat in the chair behind his desk. Molly couldn't make out what he was doing but it was probably reading the book.
Molly tried to shift her weight in the cupboard without making a sound; her foot was beginning to cramp. She held her breath and moved slowly, not wishing to be discovered hiding, it would lead to questions that she didn't have the answers to. James stood and walked the length of the cabin, first one way, then the other and back again. Sometimes he ran a hand through his hair, others with his hands folded over his chest. He stopped once to pick the blanket from the floor, folded it and placed it at the end of the bed. James slammed a fist down on the bedpost and swore, "Name of the Twelve James Hook, she's just a girl, snap out of it."
So he was smelling the blanket! Good. He'd been as annoyed as she was. But then, if he did feel some attraction for her, why had he so carelessly tossed her aside after that one night of wonderfulness? A night she was eager to repeat. She turned her attention back to the keyed up captain. He'd thrown himself back onto the bed and ripped his shirt over his head. It now lay discarded on the cabin floor like a piece of crumpled sail. She watched as he unbuttoned his black trousers and slid them down over his narrow hips. There was something unbelievably desirable about the way his long legs emerged and kicked the unwanted fabric onto the floor. When she turned her eyes back to James, her breath stuck in her throat. She allowed her eyes to roam over his mostly naked body, take in its contours in a way she hadn't appreciated the other night. Molly wanted nothing more than to run her hands over his broad chest and slip a hand down the front of his linen smallclothes. Her eyes paused there for a long moment, unable to stop ogling the already substantial bulge. The fabric strained some more as James ran his flat palm over his chest.
A deep throb pulsed in the deep place between Molly's legs and she began to melt. The slippery sensation delighted her and she looked on to see what James would do next. She chewed a fingernail as he pushed the remaining cloth from his body and onto the floor. His cock sprang free, Molly let out a breath, keeping it slow and steady so he wouldn't hear her. His large fingers splayed out over his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His leg furthest from her was hitched up, giving her a perfect view of what he was doing to himself. He seemed to idly roll his balls around in the palm of his hand, not bothered about the pleasure he was denying himself. He spat into his other hand before wrapping it around his long shaft. He gave a couple of lazy tugs before glancing around the room. His eyes passed the closet, pausing for the briefest moment. Did he know? Molly couldn't focus on that thought; all she could see was his hand pumping the shaft of his engorged cock. The purple head looked slick already and she so wanted to climb out the cupboard and wrap her lips around it. James pushed his head back into the pillow and bucked his hips with a groan. Molly's eyes were fixed on the head of his shaft and the bead of moisture that gathered there. She had to concentrate on her breathing so as not to get caught but it was getting more and more difficult. She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him now.
