Chapter 175: A Bratty Attitude Corrected*
The cabin had nothing that could be called comfortable, but it did have a basin, a jug of water that had gone lukewarm, and a scrap of cloth that had already lived through better decades. James rubbed it over his neck and face, scrubbing off the day’s salt and a fleck of somebody else’s blood he hadn’t noticed until now.
Below him, the ship groaned its way through another swell.
Hot water. That was the one luxury from his old life he still missed properly, even if there was nothing fancy about it. Simply turn a spout, stood beneath the water, and for a few minutes the world had the decency to make sense.
James would have paid half the money in his purse for five minutes of it tonight.
He put the thought away with the last of the dirt.
Then there was a knock at the door, and very nearly at the same time it was pushed open.
Milagros stepped inside and shut it behind her. She had her arms crossed, carrying whatever quarrel she had come in with as though she meant to squeeze an answer out of him.
James kept the cloth hanging loose from one hand and shot her the look she had plainly come expecting. He was half-dressed, water still wet on his jaw, and in no particular hurry to do anything about either fact.
"Well now."
He leaned his hip against the basin stand. "A man could get accustomed to bein’ visited at this hour, lass. What brings ye knockin’? Come to make sure I’m still breathin’, or have you got other plans in mind?"
Milagros didn’t react to the tease. She came closer, close enough for him to smell the salt and rope-tar still clinging to her from the deck.
She lifted her chin at him, sharp as ever, with no sign of meekness. "Back at the fort you told me your woman, Bonny, doesn’t care what you get up to. That true, cabrón, or were you only talkin’ because you like the sound of your own voice?"
He didn’t have time to answer the question.
There was more behind it. "And the other part. That you’ve a weakness for women dangerous enough to put a knife in you one day."
Her eyes narrowed. She was daring him now, and not very subtly.
"Was that true too, señor? Or was that more of your pretty talk?"
By then, James would be a fool to not understand what she was after.
He threw the rag aside and walked through the remaining distance between them. He stopped close enough that Milagros had to tip her head back to keep looking him in the eye.
"Both true, lass."
He spoke plainly, no game in his voice. "Anne’s happy to have me warmin’ her bed, and she’s happy to let me foul around so long as she has me for herself when I’m back. That’s our relationship, and she’s content with it."
He let that sit for a moment.
Then his grin appeared, slow and easy.
"As for the other."
He tipped his head and looked her over like considering a wager. "Aye, I’ve a weakness for the dangerous ones, always have. So go on, then. Test the theory yourself, lass, and find out exactly if you have what it takes."
That was enough encouragement.
James barely had time to brace before Milagros jumped on him, both legs locked behind his back, and her lips found his hard enough to drive him a full step backward.
He caught her against him, one hand spreading over the warm, perky curve of her rear to keep her from slipping. The softness yielded beneath his palm, and his fingers tightened around the firm little handful of her as he held her close.
They crossed the cabin together, tangled up and in no hurry whatsoever to become untangled. Her body moved against his with every step, her pert breasts warm against him through the loosened cloth, while her fingers worked impatiently at his shirt and found another button.
With one hand, James caught the loose laces at her neckline and tugged them free without breaking the kiss, while his other arm kept her firmly against him, his hand gripping her rear to support her weight. Between them, they left a trail of loosened fastenings behind as his knees finally struck the mattress.
Milagros had snuggled against him as thought she belonged there, her lips finding his between breaths as he lowered her onto the bunk. She barely came to his chin, yet her pert breasts pressed warmly against his chest and the full curve of her hips and backside wrapped heavily into his hands, leaving him in no hurry to put her down.
She kissed the way she fought, with teeth, determination, and no patience left over for gentleness.
He put her down with enthusiasm and very little concern for the landing. Gravity, being the dependable servant it was, took care of the rest.
Milagros sprawled across the bunk, half tangled in the blanket, her face turned into the mattress and her hips left high behind her. The position put the generous curve of her backside plainly on display, thick and rounded, with a perky lift to it that made it difficult to gaze anywhere else.
James looked down at her sprawled there and grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.
His palm came down hard across her rear, the crack of it ringing sharp through the cabin, while the thick, warm curve yielded beneath his hand and rebounded with a satisfying softness.
Milagros gave a low, pleased purr into the blanket. Then she looked back at him over one shoulder, her eyes bright with challenge.
"That the best a man wanted by the governor can manage, cabrón?"
She wet her lips as she watched him. "Milagros the Dreadful, terror of the Spanish Navy, and you think one slap’s enough to teach her manners?"
"Bratty little thing like you."
James left his hand there, enjoying the warmth and the firm softness beneath his palm
"You want correctin’ proper. Lucky for you, I’ve got two hands for the job."
He demonstrated the point a heartbeat later, bringing his palm down again with enough force to make the second slap ring through the cabin.
Milagros answered with a low purr of a moan into the blanket, her hips shifting beneath him as though she had been waiting for it.
James climbed onto the bed after her, ready to give the brat a thorough lesson in proper conduct, and left the ship to look after itself.