Raise The Jolly Roger: Somewhere In Time Read online

  Her eyes flutter open, revealing those startling blue eyes as I reach the top of her breast. She turns, looks at me, and grins. “Can’t you sleep?” she asks in a sexy voice as she stretches.

  “I am afraid if I sleep, ye will be gone.” I kiss her, starting at her neck and working me way down to her breast, sucking on one as I fondle the other.

  “William, I told you I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I want to be with you.”

  I suck on her nipple hard and she lets out a deep moan.

  “God, the things you do with your mouth.”

  I release her breast as I roll over so I be on top of her and lean in for a kiss. Cassy adjusts her legs so I fit between them. I love the feel of her nakedness against me. I continue to kiss her until she lifts her hips in search of me cock. I take the hint and bury meself in her slowly. I want to savor the feeling. “In all me years of piracy, ye have been me greatest treasure.” I look down and see her eyes be watering. I knit my brow. “Why do ye cry?”

  “No one has ever said anything like that to me before. I love you, William.” She reaches up and pulls me mouth down to hers. When she pulls away from me, I continue to drive into her. Flipping us over, she be on top of me. The look in her eyes as she rides me is pure bliss.

  * * *

  Since I’ve been back I’ve taken up writing my own journal. It helps me keep track of what day it is and what I have done on each day. I also use it as an inventory of medical supplies that I’ve used. I’ve been reading over my medical books that I stashed in my bag.

  William is off dealing with the men and telling James that I will be the lead doctor on board. I know James means well, so maybe I can teach him a few things. If he can read, I will lend him my books. Although, then I would have to explain where they came from. I’m happy that William doesn’t ask too many questions.

  I still haven’t told William what happened on the island. He has asked me a few times. I know I should explain things to him, but I just don’t think he would understand. I feel it best to keep the details to myself, at least for now. I stand and stretch. I need to take a walk to clear my head.

  Out on deck, I take a deep breath of the fresh ocean air as I walk to the side of the ship and look out over the horizon. The sky is an amazing display of colors as the sun begins to set. Orange, pinks, and purples play with the blue sky; each color trying to dominate the other. My time here has been hectic, but I know that I’ll get used to it the longer I’m here. And I plan on being here for the rest of my life. I loved my parents but, with them gone, I have nothing left to go home too. They raised me to love pirates and that is what I plan to do. I love William with every fiber of my being.

  William comes up behind me, snaking his arms around my middle. “What is it ye be thinking about?” he asks as he snuggles into my neck. I hear and feel him take a deep breath.

  “I was just thinking about how happy I am here.” I lean back into his embrace. “Do you ever go anywhere besides Port Royal and Boston?”

  “It has been some time since we have gone elsewhere.”

  “Do you think we could go to the Caribbean or somewhere more exotic?”

  “Aye. I think we be needing to take a break from our business.”

  I tilt my head up to look at him, “Really?” I ask excitedly.

  “Really. Ye be me treasure and I want to take care of ye.”

  I twist in his arms and coil my hands around his neck. “I want to do what pirates do. I want you to show it all to me. Make me a pirate, William. I want to learn to fight off the bad guys and find the booty.”

  “You sure this be what ye want, Love?”

  “I have never been so sure in my life.”

  “Then we shall teach ye to be a pirate.” William leans down and kisses me. When we part, I smile at him then spin in his arms. We continue to watch the sun as it sets in the west. This is the life I have chosen and I look forward to living it with William.

  About the Author

  Tracy Kincaid is a native Southern Californian who transplanted to Southwestern Pennsylvania. A wife and mother of three, when she is not writing, you can find her reading or crafting. She enjoys the outdoors, whether it be working in the garden or hanging out with family and friends.

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  Here is a sneak peak from

  With this Ring

  by Eryn Black

  Escape Over The Moor

  “What the hell did they put in my drink?” She asked the quiet night air, but despite how much she tried to convince herself that this was all a hallucination, the damp soil under her hands felt far too real and cold.

  A burst of cold air swept through the field and Sasha wiped her hands on the thighs of her pants before pulling her leather coat tight to her. The fog had lifted, but the damp air hung heavy and she felt a chill break the barrier of her clothes. A slow attempt to stand left the heels of her shoes to sink deep into the loose, wet dirt and Sasha fell over landing hard on her backside once again.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” She shouted out into the lonely night. “Where the hell is San Francisco?” But there was no answer just as she had feared.

  She held her leg in support and pulled her feet from the muddied shoes letting her stocking covered feet squish into the ground. The first feel of oozing mud and prickly barley breaking the delicate threads of her stocks left Sasha miserable and scared. Far too real to be imaginary, Sasha didn’t want to walk from her spot for fear of coming face to face with the growing suspicion that this was indeed real.

  Taking a couple of cautionary steps forward, she turned back to retrieve her shoes from the mud. The heels were not practical for this climate, but she knew she would need them sooner or later.

  Each step stabbed the bottom of her feet with rocks and grass that felt like shards of glass to Sasha. Never one to identify herself as a city girl, she discovered after only a couple minutes here that she missed level sidewalks and streets. The wet patch of mud on her rear was freezing cold now that she was exposed to the wind and though her sweater and jacket kept her warm, her hands and legs were left exposed and cold.

  Soft, slippery clover soon replaced the sharp and prickly barley and Sasha sighed quietly in relief. The damp clover proved to be a thick enough layer over the terrain that it cushioned the bottoms of her feet well, but one misplaced step sent her feet up and rear down on the ground sending her sliding along the hill. Each hand holding tight to her shoes she clawed at the hillside with the heel, grappling for a point, but she was not able to break the rooted barrier of the clover and sliding to her side she started to roll. Over and over again, she rolled out of control, banged, hit, and poked by every rock and what not that protruded in her path. The thin tailored fabric of her pants stood no chance against the rough terrain and pain attacking her exposed knees where holes were ripping through the fabric. In the images that rolled past her she saw the large rock or bolder only a second before her body hit it full force and the world went dark.

  “Around the bend! We have him men!”

  Distant voices echoed in Sasha’s head like listening to someone scream into a pillow. She could hear the sound and knew that it would be loud, but it was too fuzzy to make out. The sounds began to move closer and she tried to will her body to move, but every muscle was too weak. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift and she settled with trying to focus on sitting up first, only when she pulled her hands under her chest and pushed her torso up did she feel her head spin and her stomach twist and flip. Dry agonizing heaves attacked her and she fell forward again.

  The rustle of quick footsteps surprised her and the hollow sound of a pair of boots landing on a solid surface sounded far too close for her own good. Slowly her body awoke and the aches and pains began to move with focused c
oncentration on areas where she could feel the cold night air blow against cuts and gashes.

  “Wha’ the devil?”

  A man’s voice crashed down upon her from overhead and Sasha’s aching body moved on reflex scooting her away, but it only disturbed her stomach more and she coughed and heaved again. A hand latched over her mouth and the fowl stench of dung invaded her nostrils, rough and callused fingers scratched her soft face and there was a burning sensation where his fingers pressed into a bruise forming along her jaw.

  “Ye be wise to be silent cailin, be’fer they charge.” He warned her, coiling his free arm around her torso and pulling her tight to his firm body. Pressed in tight to her, she felt her breasts –still clothed in her sweater- lift free from the open collar of her coat exposing her to the added chill of the night. Every frantic breath she took was shallow and raising her bosom helping to draw his arm in tighter to her. Confined in the stranger’s arms was terrifying, but the electric excitement she felt in his arms scarred her all the more.

  “The hounds of hell will be bitin’ at our feet soon if ye donna’ hush.”

  Sasha took little notice of the warning and only of the frightening fact that her body was beaten and she was locked and imprisoned in the arms of a man. No matter the excitement in the moment, she could not ignore her self-preservation instincts. Kicking and twisting she struggled out of his arms, but he only tightened his grip.

  “Ye is loud as the banshee’s wail,” he cursed her, “Now hush you.”

  The sound of a heavy boots scuttling over a dirt path nearby accompanied by the rustle and clanking of weaponry. Dream or not these were either threatening invaders or her saviors, but she would do just as well to stay put and wait to wake up. Despite the pain in her head, Sasha forced her eyes open. Shadowed under a boulder, she looked to her right and saw a moonlit moor with a cliff drop not far from where she hid. It was not difficult for her to realize that the boulder had stopped her from falling over the edge.

  Running into view, Sasha saw a man in costume, dressed as a soldier from the cover of some historical romance novel or film poster. Despite the lack of tights, he was dressed with a high collar and metal breastplate that would find its place in a museum rather than in her dreams.

  “I cannot see any sign of the man.” His accent was crisp and British as compared to the country Irish voice that had awoken her.

  “Very well,” another man’s voice added, “You will continue pursuit to the north while I make way by the road and hopefully cut him off. If we cannot stop him from delivering his message than we will track him to The Red.”

  A galloping horse came into view with soldiers following behind on foot. Dragged over the damp ground, Sasha winced at the pain of her bruised knee hitting yet another rock on the ground, but when she involuntarily groaned from the pain he tightened his grip. They moved around the rock and watched as the men marched out of view from one direction and the horseman rode off in the other.

  The hot breath of a sigh floated under her collar and Sasha felt his arms loosen around her. Taking her chance she pushed herself away from the mysterious man feeling around for her scattered shoes and keeping an eye on the shadowed face. In a department store her heels would look less threatening, but to the man, one swing in the air and he backed away, standing and revealing himself in the moonlight. Her body had been branded by his heat and left her now cold from the wind.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Looking around her muddied stocking covered feet stumbled over the slick blanket of clover.

  “I donna’ ken what ye are saying cailin, but they havna’ gone far and ye best be watchin’ ye voice or they’ll come running back and da will na be able ta protect ye then.” He spoke so fast and with such a thick accent that she hadn’t understood one word other than she needed his protection. A hood that emerged from the back of his cloak cast a shadow over his face from the bright moonlight and added a menacing mystery to him. When he shifted the hood bent to reveal glimpses of his face.

  “You’re a hallucination, something that was slipped in my drink.” Backing away from him, her feet slipped out from under her again and she fell hard on the ground with a scream.

  Sasha tried to reach to her sore bum, but he pounced on her again igniting another scream that was deflected by his hand. Violently she swung her fists in defense, hitting her mark with one heel that he cursed in a dialect that was indecipherable. Another swing impacted with her heel hitting him in the head. Swinging his arm around, he knocked the heel from her hand and pulled her -kicking and hitting him- onto his shoulder. The world flipped over and she felt her stomach roll again. In the midst of another scream she gasped for air and fell once again into darkness.