Read Online Captain's Surrender by Alex Beecroft - Free Book Online

glass rang twice as he put it down, betraying the tremble in his hand. Swinging his legs over the edge of his cot, he let himself be seen, partly dressed and frightened as he was. "Isn't that ... mutiny ?"
Kenyon smiled. It was, perhaps, the sweetest expression Josh had ever seen on a man's face, with its perfect mixture of vulnerability and amusement, resignation and entreaty. "If I place my life in your hands," he said softly, "it is because I know it's safe there."
If Josh had been fragile before, these words shattered him. For a moment he forgot how to breathe, how to think, as the storm overtook him, and he ran helpless before the swell of agony and denial. The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider or regret. "You would not be so quick to trust me if you knew what I was."
"What you are?" The gaze became quizzical, still lighthearted on the surface, but colored with shades of compassion and concern beneath. "I don't ... I don't know what you mean."
"If I place my life in your hands, will it be safe there?"
"To the utmost of my strength."
Josh took a breath and tried to say it; "I ... I.." His heart stuttered as wildly as his words, choking him. He looked at the wall, the floor, the lantern—they glared back, implacable, refusing to help. I will hang for mutiny or die at the hands of the crew. It made it easier to force himself out of the cot to crawl on hands and knees across the tiny space, the gulf which was all that separated him from that smile. If I'm going to be killed anyway...
Reaching out, he pushed his fingers into the thick darkness of Kenyon's hair, the sensation pounding over him, drowning him. Stroking the errant locks out of the lieutenant's face, he leaned down and touched his lips to the corner of a mouth that had opened a little in surprise. Flushed skin and sweat, and Kenyon licked his lips—perhaps nervously—but at the tiny flickering touch Josh couldn't help himself. Both hands twisted wrist deep into that glorious hair— soft, so soft —and he lifted the older man's face to his own, claimed the mouth full on, plunging deep, luxuriating in the taste and the firmness and Peter, oh, Peter. Oh, God, Peter!
Something breaking in his chest—his heart, probably— forced him away, forced him to huddle miserably in the middle of the deck with tears spilling onto his cheeks, waiting for the recoil, waiting to be punched and shunned. He didn't fear death, for the lieutenant was a man of his word, but Josh was basely, burningly ashamed. And if he hates me ... He wiped his eyes on his sleeves, looked up—best to know the worst at once—and was met by a look of plain astonishment, almost wonder.
"Ah," said Kenyon uncertainly.
Was he blushing? He was! Actually blushing, shy as a maiden. "I ... didn't know."
"Are you not going to run to the captain and tell him you've discovered a threat to the ship?" Though his voice was thin and bitter as Tuesday's soup, Josh was proud of himself for being able to speak at all. He had kissed the first lieutenant; no one could ever again say he lacked nerve.
Kenyon shrugged, and the movement must have jostled his back because he went suddenly white and silent, his muscles standing out beneath the skin as he tensed against the pain. Without thinking, Josh reached out to stroke his hair again for comfort. Amazingly, rather than curse and knock the hand away, Kenyon closed his eyes at the touch and slowly relaxed The smile returned, tentative, unsure and all the more charming for it. "Should I?"
Of course you should. "I'd rather you didn't."
"Well, then."
Such mercy was inconceivable. Josh prodded at it, waiting for it to turn into something more familiar. The demand that he get out of the lieutenant's sight before his skinny neck was wrung, for example. "You still think I'm not ... I'm not utterly worthless?"
"I still think you are excellent and admirable," said Kenyon. By now he had surrendered so completely to the repeated caress—and the rum and