Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

AUGUST 23RD, 1666

T he wide hallway was quiet as Logan approached the office on the second level, the only sound that of his own boots on the polished wood floors. Rowan had asked him to oversee the Siren Song 's repairs, and it felt good to have something to do while they were stuck on this island.

He stopped in front of the door, its panels carved with swirls of waves. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage to face the Deep Water Demon. They needed more sailcloth for the repairs, and of course he had to ask for it from the man in charge. Personally, Logan found the Demon to be a bit creepy, but Rowan seemed smitten. Logan hoped it wouldn't affect his judgment too much when it came time to leave.

Logan's fist thudded dully against the wood, and he heard a voice on the other side bid him enter. He stepped into the cool interior of the office. It was well-appointed, with a marble fireplace, lush carpets, and a large mahogany desk that had definitely once belonged to a Talvan admiral or general if the five-flower insignia carved into the front was any indication. There was a space in the center of the desk where a crest or monogram would be. But it was blank, having been destroyed and sanded over, but Logan thought he could see the ghost of an ‘R' or maybe a ‘B' beneath the new coat of lacquer. The Demon certainly had eccentric and expensive taste .

However, the man sitting at the desk was not the Demon, but he was just as scary.

"First Mate Logan," John Hakon said in that unknowable monotone he had. He set a quill pen down on the leather ink blotter. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Logan closed the door behind him and crossed the room, sitting in one of the empty chairs across from John.

"I was expecting the De—" Logan cleared his throat. "I was hoping to speak to your captain."

"Ah." John settled back in his chair. He picked up a glass of what looked like whiskey from among a small pile of wood shavings and a half-finished carving of a bird. "Unfortunately he is still out…what's the word…cavorting with your captain."

Logan snorted. "Cavorting would be a good word for it, yes."

John's smile was small. He took a sip of his drink.

"No matter what we call it. It leaves me in charge. So what can I do for you?"

John seemed to think this situation was just as annoying as Logan did. But Logan had long ago given up on talking his captain out of things. Rowan always took care of his crew, even when he led them into danger with some harebrained plan. He deserved to let loose every once in a while, even if Logan didn't approve of how he was doing it.

Or who he was doing it with.

Logan would be there to pick up the pieces when it was all over. He always was.

"I need at least ten more yards of sailcloth and a few other things for the repairs," Logan said, wondering if John's exasperation at his captain's behavior was because it was out of character for the Demon or in it. "The sooner we can get out of your hair, the better."

John glanced out the window, noting the position of the sun.

"It's almost midday. Have lunch with me, and we can discuss it."

Logan wasn't sure what exactly there was to discuss about sailcloth. But he was hungry, so he agreed. John led him down to the main floor of the mansion and into the hot interior of the kitchen at the back of the building. A person he assumed was the cook slid a chipped china plate across to John, already loaded with chicken and potatoes. He was a man of habit then, predictable.

"A plate for Mr. Crowder too, please," John said, and the cook quickly assembled a plate for Logan as well. Logan took it with thanks and followed John out to a small walled garden, overgrown with various flowers. At the center, a round table and two chairs sat on a patio of cracked mosaic tile.

They sat and ate in silence for a little while, bees buzzing in the warm air around them.

"So what is this place?" Logan asked after he finished the last bite. He had to admit, all the food he'd eaten here on the island was delicious. He only wished ship food could be half as good. That was the one thing he loathed about sailing—no matter how good your cook was, or how well-stocked the ship, the food was always shit.

John glanced up at him as if he'd almost forgotten he was there. He looked lazily around at the garden.

"This used to be the private garden of the lady of the house." He laughed, a surprisingly cheerful sound coming from someone who looked so serious. "I guess that's me now."

"You're…the lady of the house?" Logan asked, confused.

"Well I'm second in command so close enough," John said. His brown eyes cut toward Logan. "So I guess we're both the ladies of the house right now. Unless that captain of yours is looking to take up the job."

There was an insult hidden somewhere in there, but Logan couldn't quite place it. He sat up straighter. "Do you think that's a possibility? Would the Demon keep him here?" A little well of anxiety opened up in the pit of his stomach.

"Keep him?" John took a small sip from the glass of whiskey he'd brought down from the office, wood shavings still clung to the bottom. "I don't know. He's never done something like this before."

That was disconcerting. They were all in uncharted waters here.

"Can I have some of that?"

John took a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it over. Logan took a swig of whiskey. In the heat of the day, it went straight to his head. His brain buzzed along with the bees.

"What about your captain?" John asked. "Does he fall in love easily? Would he stay if the Demon asked?"

"He doesn't fall easily," Logan admitted.

"Bunch of crazy bastards." John shook his head, and Logan knew he was encompassing the other four crew members who were now sleeping together in that assessment. They both drank again .

"I don't understand it," Logan muttered.

John sat up straighter, looking at him intently.

"You don't understand it?" Something in his tone put Logan on edge.

When Logan didn't elaborate, John pushed further. "What don't you understand?"

Logan felt hot suddenly and took another gulp from the flask.

"I don't understand how they can be so foolish. Don't get me wrong, my captain is a fool, but never like this."

"Lust makes fools of us all." John sighed.

"Wouldn't know," Logan muttered behind the flask.

John's intense eyes sliced to Logan's face, riveting him to the spot.

Fuck, he shouldn't have said that. But the whiskey and the heat had loosened his tongue.

"A virgin pirate?" John whistled. "What are the chances?"

The chances were slim, Logan knew. Yet here he was in all his virginal glory. It wasn't that he didn't have the desire or opportunity. And it wasn't that he was unschooled in the ways of sex. One couldn't share a room with Fox for years and not get a thorough education in the sexual possibilities. He'd just never actually done anything. He was too focused on more important matters, and that made him a bit scatterbrained when it came to interpersonal relationships. Then there was the fact that they were always moving from place to place—the timing was just never right.

Logan felt his cheeks flush. John tilted his head, trying to catch Logan's eye, but he stared at his plate, the delicate painted roses still smeared with chicken grease.

"So do you want some experience?"

Logan's head snapped up.

"W-what?"

John smiled at him lazily, as if this were the most natural conversation for them to be having instead of discussing the yardage of sailcloth he needed. John stood and slowly removed his jacket, revealing a subtly muscular form beneath his white shirt. He hung the jacket carefully on the back of his chair and approached. Logan eyed him warily.

"I said," John leaned down with a hand on the back of Logan's chair, pinning him. "Mister First Mate Logan, would you like to lose your virginity to me? "

Logan opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish. It felt like every bee in the whole garden had flown straight into his brain and was buzzing around frantically, crashing against the inside of his skull.

"Ah, sorry." John removed his hand from the back of the chair. "Maybe this is more your speed." He cupped Logan's chin, tilted it up slowly, and kissed him.

All the buzzing ceased, and there was only the feeling of John's lips on his. This was his first kiss, baring the platonic pecks Fox was always pestering him with. It wasn't quite how he'd always expected it would go, but it was pleasant.

When John's tongue slipped inside Logan's mouth, a bolt of lightning shot straight to his crotch.

John released Logan's mouth but didn't release his chin from his concerningly strong grasp.

"Well?"

"I…um…"

John's eyes roamed down Logan's body to where his erection was bulging inside his trousers.

"Oh? Is this your answer?"

He waited, and Logan's brain finally caught up to the situation he found himself in.

"H-here?" he asked. The sweet pollen of the flowers mingled with the faint whiskey smell of John's breath.

"I can't exactly march you through the house sporting that." John glanced down at Logan's erection again.

He was right. And besides, Logan didn't think he could wait.

"Yes," Logan agreed simply.

John smirked as if he knew this was the inevitable outcome. "I'll go easy on you."

Somehow Logan doubted that. But he leaned forward anyway, kissing John back. John hummed, pleased, and pulled Logan to his feet. Before he knew it, Logan's back was pressed against the crumbling brick of the garden wall, crushing the climbing flowers against his heated skin.

John's tongue swirled through Logan's mouth. John swiftly unbuckled Logan's belt and a thrill of anxiety and anticipation quivered through him. John's hand slipped into his trousers, stroking his cock. Logan tried to stifle a moan, and John took that as encouragement. He broke off their kiss and sank to one knee on the cracked tiles. He pulled Logan's trousers down his hips, letting his fully hard cock spring free.

Logan watched with half-lidded eyes as John licked a stripe over the sensitive underside of his cock. Logan's eyes slid closed. He leaned his head against the wall behind him, letting the sun warm his face.

John's lips found the tip of his cock, then sank down around him, hot and soft. Logan almost came right then, but he got himself under control quickly, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't want this to be over before it even began. The tip of his cock hit the back of John's throat, and John hummed, vocal cords vibrating.

Logan couldn't help the small, pathetic noises that escaped him as John's mouth worked him. Sucking and licking expertly. Applying friction where he needed, backing off when he needed. Fuck, it felt so good. Better than anything. Better than the delicious food they'd just eaten. Better than being on the open sea. He was struggling to keep it together. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

John's soft tongue swirled around his shaft on a downstroke, and Logan's hips bucked involuntarily. John grunted and pinned Logan's hips to the wall with one hand, his thumb massaging the tense muscle of Logan's groin. Logan opened his eyes and looked down at the man whose mouth was latched around his cock. But John was focused on the task at hand. His long lashes fluttered against his suntanned cheeks. Logan threaded his fingers through John's glossy chestnut hair, and the man finally looked up at him.

Shit, John's eyes were still intimidating, but now they just served to turn Logan on even more.

His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly deep stroke, accompanied by a lewd sucking sound from John's mouth.

"Ah, fuck…" The coil of pleasure that had been building in the pit of his stomach finally snapped. His cock throbbed as a tide of pleasure washed through him, and his orgasm spilled into John's mouth. John pulled away, spitting it into the flowerbed.

He stood, wiping a bit of cum from his bottom lip with a monogrammed handkerchief that had someone else's initials on it.

"Damn, I thought you were a virgin. Why'd you last so long?" He leaned closer, hitching Logan's trousers back up his hips .

"It just…felt so good. I wanted it to last," Logan answered innocently.

John's laugh this time was loud and genuine, showing his teeth and gums.

"Of course you did." He patted Logan on the cheek. "I learned from the best."