9. First Name Terms

9. First Name Terms

Hakan caught his breath and lowered his gaze from the heavens. His heart was thundering while his skin tingled all over, sensitivity zinging through him. He paused to allow the aftershocks from his spectacular orgasm to fade, in no hurry to lose the last sensations of pleasure. When he looked down, Captain was sitting by the tiller, scowling at the horizon as though it had personally offended him.

Ah. That could be a problem.

Hakan's mind had been blown just as much as his cock, and he was delighted their relationship had become physical. For him, that had been fun and enormously pleasurable, exactly the way bedsport ought to be. Captain, by contrast, looked like he was regretting giving in to temptation. Hakan tried not to feel insulted. There'd been nothing wrong with the sex, he was sure of that. Whatever the issue was, it lay between Captain's ears and not between his legs.

Crossing to the side of the boat, he washed his hands and straightened his clothes, then sauntered to where Captain sat. Captain continued to stare stonily ahead. Hakan cupped the other man's chin and brushed a kiss to his cheek. "That was fun," he stated. "But that's all it was. You needn't worry I'm going to tie you down simply because we've had a tumble." Captain's gaze darted to his face and he gave a wink. "Unless you want me to tie you down, of course."

The other man's jaw worked. "No."

Hakan fought a smile. Captain needed to learn not to take everything so seriously. The bitten-off answer was almost funny now he knew how expressive Captain could be.

His stomach grumbled, which provided something practical for him to focus on. "I'll fix breakfast."

He returned to the covered area, where several pots and boxes had appeared overnight. Osman had sent provisions from his kitchen to keep them sustained for the rest of their journey. It was testament to their friendship that Hakan hadn't checked what they'd been given before sailing away. Now, he found several pleasant surprises. As well as the basics, there was an earthenware pot with pea and mutton stew in it, while a basket held flatbreads that would need eating that day or they'd be harder than the biscuit Osman had also provided.

Hakan filled two of the flatbreads with stew and walked back to the stern. "Here you are, Captain," he spoke the title slightly mockingly, so Captain would know nothing had really changed.

"Thank you." Captain hesitated a moment before he took his portion. He looked up, fixing Hakan with a steady gaze. "It's Ramorran."

Hakan blinked. "What's Ramorran?"

"My name." His gaze skittered away from Hakan as though he were shy. "Since we've..." His spare hand flapped vaguely between them. "Since we're sharing the boat, I should tell you that much."

"Thank you." Half a dozen teasing comments sprang to Hakan's lips, but in the end he took another bite of his breakfast and swallowed them all down. Seemed he was wrong: things had changed.

~

Ramorran ate his breakfast and tried not to let his gaze follow Hakan as he prowled around the boat, checking the sheets and staring at the waves in search of land. As he stood by the rail, hand lifted to shade his eyes, hair tousled by the breeze, he might have been designed by some capricious god to be sinfully delicious in the way Ramorran found most irresistible.

Ramorran wrenched his gaze away before Hakan could turn and find him gawping. Inebriation with hard spirits and ill-advised sexual liaisons. Well, best get it all out of his system before he returned home where such behaviour wouldn't be tolerated.

He just wished he could find it in himself to regret what he'd done. The rum ... well, he'd maybe treat that with a little more respect next time, but the sex...

His teeth ground as every muscle in his body tensed with the memory. He wished he could treat it as carelessly as Hakan clearly could. Just fun. A brief, good time that meant nothing. Unlike his crewmate, he struggled to brush it off. He was clinging to the remnants of his self-respect to hold himself back from throwing himself at Hakan's feet and pleading for a repeat.

Throwing himself at a pirate. His family would be appalled. Although there was no reason for them to ever find out about it. It wasn't like he'd boast.

His gaze strayed to Hakan once more. He found the other man leaning over the rail at the front of the boat, the fabric of his pants stretched taut across his ass. He gripped the tiller so hard he nearly splintered the wood.

He made a strangled noise and Hakan perhaps heard. He turned and grinned, "I found a hook and line." He gestured to the side and Ramorran could just make out a narrow thread looping the rail and dropping into the water. "With luck we'll catch some fish for our dinner."

Ramorran nodded, biting his tongue from offering to jump into the water right now and fetch fish for Hakan if fish were what his heart desired. The man didn't want gifts, and Ramorran wouldn't be fool enough to offer them. A brief fling, before he returned home. That's all this could be.

Hakan padded over the deck towards him. Ramorran dropped his gaze to the man's feet in case his feelings could be read on his face. The other man stopped a pace away. When he didn't move, Ramorran let his gaze stray up his body, from the strong feet and calves, past those sturdy thighs to his waist. Hakan's thumbs were hooked into his belt. Ramorran's mouth dried at the memory of how those hands had felt touching the most intimate parts of him.

He wrenched his eyes upwards further, over the barrel chest to find Hakan watching him with an expression he couldn't fathom.

Ramorran swallowed. His sister would curse him for nine types of fool – but that wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. And he didn't plan to tell Vonda about this. His secrets were his own; his family didn't have a right to his thoughts.

Energy surged through him on a restless tide, rebellion and desire twisting through him. They were on their way to retrieve his property from Sixblades. Home was closer than it had been for months. He yearned for the familiar, but at the same time he was already mourning a liberty he hadn't yet lost. His family wouldn't understand Hakan. He didn't understand Hakan. He didn't like the man, he simply lusted after him. And that would have to be enough. He could have a little fun without losing his heart, and then he'd return home and be free of irritating, handsome pirates.

And he'd never tell his family about this. They'd be appalled.

He blinked, realising Hakan was still watching him. Heat flooded his face. "What?"

Hakan's eyes twinkled. The expression was fond, and heated, and intense. The heat suffusing Ramorran's cheeks increased. He wanted to be looked at that way every day for the rest of his life. He looked away, because the rest of his life was exactly what he wasn't thinking about.

"We should plan," Hakan told him. "What we're going to do when we reach Sixblades."

"Oh." Ramorran fought down an out-of-proportion sense of disappointment. Had he really thought Hakan was approaching to shower him with gentle words and tender caresses? Not that he wanted such things. If Hakan had murmured sweet nothings they'd all have been lies. The man was a pirate, after all.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "We should discuss that."

~

"We need a way to get close to Sixblades." Hakan dropped to the deck beside Captain so they were facing the same way rather than looking at each other. That seemed safer, since he couldn't look at the other man for long – or at all – without wanting to tear his clothes off and kiss him senseless. Sex was supposed to have scratched his itch, but his appetite for his grumpy shipmate hadn't been fully appeased by a single tumble.

It was just a shame the tension in Ramorran's jaw told him a renewal of intimacies would have to be approached with great care. They might have shared names at long last, but that appeared to be the only concession the other man was willing to make.

Because he was staring at the horizon (yes, hoping for land to appear), Hakan couldn't see Captain's response, but he thought he could detect the slight sound of grinding. "I'll sneak inside, retrieve my property and sneak back out," Captain said, the words slow and careful, as though he were schooling a child.

Hakan shook his head. "I thought you said you'd met Sixblades? Because sneaking around is going to be far harder than you imagine. He's not going to simply let you walk inside." He sucked his teeth. "For a start, if he's got my old crewmembers as security, they are very good at their jobs."

"Who were your crewmates?" Captain asked. "I might have met them."

Awareness rushed through Hakan – why hadn't he thought of that? They'd been with Sixblades a year, while Ramorran had left the man only a couple of months ago. "Loula and Ozzo. Loula's—"

"Tall and skinny?" Ramorran finished. "Glare that could fell a dragon?"

Hakan grinned as fond warmth flooded him. "That's her. You met?"

"I saw her now and then. And I sneaked past her when I escaped, so it can be done."

Hakan wanted to challenge that, but Captain was standing before him, a free man, which spoke for itself. He concentrated on his plan. "We can get in if we all work together. With them on the inside we've got an advantage Sixblades can't hope to counter."

"You're assuming they're still loyal to you," Captain said sourly.

"They will be."

"Like all your friends on Crescent Island?" he raised a scornful brow.

"Like my true friends," he replied. "Loula and Ozzo are family. We just need a way to get in touch with them."

"Write a letter?" Captain drawled.

"It's no worse an idea than sneaking," he snapped. He regretted his sharp tone when Captain's expression shuttered. Hakan curled his fingers to hold back the desire to massage the tight corner of the other man's jaw. Ramorran looked as though he had something to confide, but in the end simply returned his gaze to the sea.

Hakan was being an ass. No wonder his crewmate had gone quiet. "I know I can't write a letter, but there'll be a way to let them know we're close. Sixblades might be a recluse, but at the very least an estate that size will need deliveries. There'll be coming and going we can exploit."

"I can sneak in and retrieve my property without your help. If you want to rescue your crewmates, then that makes the situation more difficult, not less."

"No, there's strength in numbers. Look, we can unite, deal with both matters at once, and take everything from Sixblades before he knows what's hit him," Hakan pointed out. He sighed when Captain didn't respond. "It might help if you told me what he stole from you."

He waited, giving Captain plenty of time to do so. The other man simply shook his head tightly, as though arguing with himself on the matter as much as giving Hakan his answer.

"Some clues, then?" He stretched his legs, treating the matter as though it were the sort of guessing game the crew would use to pass the time on long journeys. "Tell me it's at least portable?"

"I'll be able to carry it without assistance," Captain said, which Hakan counted as a win in communication as well as information.

"Does it fit in a pocket?"

"No."

"What if you have to run?" He asked next. "Will you still be able to carry it, or will you need to drop it in order to escape?"

Captain's jaw clenched. "Once I set my hands on it, I'm never letting it go again. I won't be dropping it."

Hakan was growing more intrigued by the moment. Not coins – not that he'd supposed this level of dedication would be inspired by the loss of mere money – and not jewellery or a token of that sort. Didn't fit in his pocket, but would fit in his arms.

"He didn't enslave one of your friends, did he?" Perhaps they were more alike in their aims than he'd supposed.

"No."

"So, nothing living." Captain didn't reply to that, in a quite-deliberate way which intrigued Hakan. He considered asking directly, but Captain was being sufficiently forthcoming he didn't want to spoil the mood. He took recourse in teasing. "Your heart?" He was joking, but Captain swung to him with a glare, so perhaps it was closer to the mark than he'd imagined.

"He tried," Ramorran muttered.

Hakan thought his own heart had stopped. That was a confidence indeed! Sixblades had seduced Captain – or possibly the other way around. He didn't think that was likely, though. An air of naivety hung around the man. He cleared his throat. "Ah, well the story is that Sixblades doesn't have a heart, so it's not surprising he wanted yours." The urge to speak bubbled in his chest, filling his throat and spilling out before he could stop it. "I'm sure your heart was well worth stealing."