Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor am I in any way affiliated with Billy Boyd. This story is a pure fabrication of my mind. There is no historical basis to it, whatsoever, besides the location. Lies, all lies!
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to my shortie, Piracy. I must say this was inspired by all the summers I spent on Grand Isle, hearing the pirate tales of Jean Lafitte. And, for all those moments my brother and I dug up the beach searching for his treasure. Other than that, this has a bit of French in it, as well as me trying to get a Cajun accent through written word. So, bare with me, darlings! I hope you enjoy!
On the Barataria Bay
Billy's POV
My eyes roam over the angry, untamed ocean waves of this bright morning. From my spot in the Crow’s nest, I can see many things, the most interesting being Sophie. She is standing tall and sturdy at the fore end of the ship, her black tresses twisted up and hidden underneath her pirate hat. I can’t suppress the thrill that runs through my body as I remember the way I twirled my fingers through those locks the night before.
Things have been relatively steady these past few months, as my relationship with Sophie grows. She is the most complex woman I’ve ever been privy to know. I guess most days; Sophie is like a bird that spirit of hers free and flying high in the sky. She doesn’t care a bit of what anyone would think of her, that much being obvious from her life choices. Then again, other times I like to think of Sophie as a wild cat. Damn if she doesn’t bite, scratch, and purr like one. There is ferocity to her, the likes of which I’ve never seen. I don’t know much about her past, but, surely, something made her wild like this. Yet, it is that passionate recklessness that makes her who she is, and the hardcore attitude that keeps her captain of this ship of cutthroats.
“Bill!” a voice calls loudly, and my head jerks down to see Joe, a dirty, scruffy fellow climbing up Jacob’s ladder.
“Are ye addled? I been calling yer name over and over! Yer lookout time is through.”
With a curt nod, I let Joe hop into the Crow’s nest before I swing myself right out of it and onto the rope.
Around here, the pirates all treat me like I was one of them. They pretty much accepted me with no questions at all, which sort of makes me wonder. How many other men has Sophie taken aboard this ship for her own pleasure? I was never stupid enough to believe I was her first. So, I guess I’m a regular scalawag now, bustling around this ship like all the others. I reckon the only special treatment I get is sharing a bed with the captain. And, I’ll say it; I will do anything to keep that part of this situation alive.
It is several days later, when I acknowledge that the weather has gotten a lot warmer. I am ignorant of our course; Sophie won’t breathe a word about it. Yet, I find it is not really a tropical heat surrounding us…tis more like something I’ve never felt before. Even the ocean has a different look to it. I might be an experience sailor, but, in this situation I am clueless.
I am peering ahead with scrunched up eyes, almost certain I can see something, when it happens. Joe has popped down from his spot in the Crow’s nest, and rushed past me.
He calls out excitedly, “We’re almost there, Cap’n Sophie! I spotted the isle!”
“Ye know what to do then, Joe,” Sophie replies, her blue eyes cutting into the poor pirate. Joe nods nervously, before scurrying over to one of the cannons and motioning to me.
“What are ye doing?” I question, as Joe goes throw the steps of loading up the fire powder.
“We gotta send off three shots,” Joe explains, “To let ‘em know we be friends, not foes.”
I shuffle around to help him, noticing the sheer excitement a gleaming in his beady little eyes.
“Who is them?” I ask, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
“Ye didn’t know?” Joe questions curiously, “We be heading to the isles of Barataria.”
Confusion runs through my brain, as my mind circles around his words. That name sounds so familiar, and yet, I can not place it. Joe must have noticed my hesitation, for he launches into a detailed explanation.
“Ye heard of ‘em maybe by different names. They be Grand Isle and Grand Terre, the home of Lafitte himself.”
My eyes nearly bug out of my head upon hearing this. Surely, he speaks of Jean Lafitte, the famed pirate. I’ve heard many a tale about him in my days, his treachery outmatched by his bravery. It was always with respect that other sailors had spoken of him. And, now we go to his lair! I don’t really understand. Yet, Joe babbles on.
“Him and the Cap’n be old friends,” Joe stated, “She comes here to the Barataria Bay as much as she can.”
I nod, and my head jerks back in Sophie’s direction. She has a spyglass to her eye, her back rigid.
“Hurry it up, will ye?” she yells suddenly, turning towards me and Joe. Her cheeks are flushed with what I know is anticipation. I’ve seen that look oft enough to be sure. But, this time it ain’t for me. A strange sense of apprehension runs through my body, but I try to ignore it.
And, so, that is how I found myself on a ship, anchored at the very bay where the grand Mississippi River spilled out into the Gulf of Mexico. The air is so muggy; I can barely take in a breath. My hair is damp with sweat, and I notice the way Sophie’s has suddenly changed to swirly little waves all over her head. My fingers want to run through those locks, but I know I have to stand back. She is in charge at this moment.
“Set down a boat,” Sophie orders, her sharp eyes scanning the crew, “Joe, Pete, Henry ye can all come with me. The rest of ye stay for now, and we’ll see about tonight.”
I feel more than neglected, as she moves to step off the ship. By happenstance, her gaze floats towards me. Obviously, I was forgotten for this little adventure. Yet, Sophie crooks her finger and I go running. She doesn’t speak while we are on the lifeboat, me and the other men rowing away towards shore.
I take the opportunity to study the land before me. It’s not a huge island, nor is it small. There isn’t much of a beach to speak of, and I can see the large house resting comfortably in the shades of palm trees quite clearly. There is a large veranda lining the front of it, faded white walls encasing the inside. And, when our boat is nearly ashore, I see a group of people exit the home and move towards us.
The instant our boat breaches sand, Sophie has leapt from it, sloshing her way through the knee deep salty water. The biggest, most carefree smile is upon her face, as she hurries forward. I have never seen her look so happy in all the time that I’ve known her. Tis strange, really.
The rest of us follow at a slower pace, dragging the boat behind. But, we are not far enough away for me to miss the grand display unfolding before my eyes. Sophie runs forward and launches herself into the arms of a tall, commanding looking fellow. I can hear his deep laugh from my position, as I watch him swing her around in the air. Hot jealousy courses through my veins. She is never like that with me.
Soon, we are in earshot, and I can hear them speaking to each other in quick, excited tones.
“Ma petite femme, it has been too long since I last saw you!” the man is telling Sophie, his French accent rich and full in my ears. My hands tighten into fists by my side, but I remain silent.
“Jean!” Sophie exclaims, a radiant smile parting her lips, “It is so good to be here.”
So, there is my confirmation. Here is the famous pirate, Jean Lafitte. He has black curly hair, and a long moustache. His eyes are nearly as dark as his hair while they sparkle at my Soph. And, I do notice, indeed, the way they roam over her body with an air of familiarity. I do not like this man; I do not like this hot, humid island. When can we go back to the ship?
Peering around, I see that the others have meandered off with what I assume is Jean’s fellow pirate crew. The captain and Sophie are lost within themselves, as I stand there feeling quite uncomfortable and lost. I’m not sure where I fit in, if I do at all. My green eyes stare at the sand, until I feel a soft touch on my arm.
Looking up, Sophie is there, that warm expression still on her face. She links her arm in mine, and brings me forward to meet Jean. He is staring at me, a smile twitching on his lips.
“Jean, this is Bill,” Sophie states, “We picked him up off a British ship.”
“I see,” Jean answers, mischief in his eyes. I can tell he knows exactly what the situation between Sophie and I is all about. Yet, it doesn’t seem to bother him in the least. He reaches out and grips my hand, as he speaks in that French interspliced with English language of his.
“Bonjour and welcome to Grand Terre, mon ami.”
All I do is nod, my feet walking along with his and Sophie’s up to the rambling home off the beach. When we get inside, I am amazed by the richness that surrounds me. I have never seen such treasures, and I realize there are definitely advantages to being a pirate. Exquisite paintings hang from all the walls, along with the rich draperies that cover each window, trying their best to block out the red hot sun. The furniture is finer than anything I have ever seen, and I nearly feel ashamed to step on the expensive carpet.
As I stumble along, feeling dreadfully out of place, I notice we are making our way up the stairs and then down a long hallway. Jean shows us to a room, before leaving us alone with a little smirk.
I don’t say anything, as my wide eyes regard the huge white bed. It looks so soft and inviting, after the months of sleeping on the thin little bed aboard Sophie’s ship.
“Do ye want a bath?” Sophie asks, her blue eyes appraising me. I give her a quick nod, hoping she’ll join me. But, she has other plans.
“When ye’re done, ye should get some rest. A servant will come get ye around dinner.”
And, then, Sophie is gone. No doubt to spend time with Jean, and, I can’t help but be angry about it. Its foolish on my part, maybe they are just old friends. Yet, I cannot believe that! Sophie is wild, and someone like Jean is quite who she would be attracted to. I feel like she is losing interest in me, while I have only just begun to crack the secrets of her mind. I don’t want to be thrown out of her life so soon!
With a heavy mind, I go about having my bath, and then I crawl into that bed. Even though I’m troubled, I fall asleep in no time. I am very startled when a knock upon the door awakens me. Opening it, I see a pretty young girl with big brown eyes.
“Monsieur,” she states in a sweet tone, “Le dîner est servi.”
After taking a few moments to collect myself, I head down the stairs and peer around until I find the dining room. Jean and Sophie are already there; standing and conversing when I walk in. Several other gentlemen are in the room, all strangers to my eyes. My feet lead me to Soph, my eyes nearly bugging from my head at her appearance. Since we were back on the British ship, I have not seen her in a dress. And, even back then, it had been the sadly well worn one I found her in. I am so used to seeing Sophie dressed as a man; I am unprepared for my reaction to see her as she is now.
A crimson gown is wrapped around her glorious body, hugging those curves of hers in just the right way. Its color is so rich and beautiful, as it dips low to reveal a shocking amount of her breasts. A ruby necklace rests around her throat, the jewel falling atop her cleavage. Sophie turns to me, her eyes bright and shining.
“Where did ye get all of this?” I stutter like a fool, my fingers reaching out and touching the satin fabric of her skirt.
“They were a gift from Jean,” Sophie answers matter-of-factly. My spine goes stiff, as a grimace pulls at my lips. What a big surprise. I should have known…why wouldn’t he try to buy her affections?
“And, ye just accepted them!” I hiss quietly, my eyes aflame. Just then, Jean saunters over, a warm and friendly grin tugging at his features.
“Mon ami,” Jean calls out, slapping me on the back, “It is nice to see our chère in a dress, non? She is très jolie, never figured out why she always tries to hide dis.”
Ours? Since when is my woman to be shared?
“I can’t quite believe her,” I mutter through clenched teeth, as Sophie arches her eyebrow at me. Jean just throws back his head and laughs.
“Ye see, ma petite? Ye have him under yer spell!”
It seems to me that he is mocking, and I find myself thankful when we can all sit down to dinner. Naturally, I am seated far away from Sophie. She is at the head of the table right by Jean. How very cute and quaint.
Dinner progresses, and there is no lack of wine. Aged bottle after bottle of it appears seemingly from mid air, as the servants are so quiet and light on their feet, you can scarce notice their presence! The group gets rowdier and rowdier as more bottles disappear. It is really late before I hear one of the men voice a question that very much interests me.
“So, Jean, how did ye and Sophie meet?”
Lafitte laughs, as he and Soph share a huge smile. Her cheeks are rosy from the wine, and she looks so beautiful I want to take her in my arms and never let go. Sadly, it is Jean who grasps her hand in this moment.
“Well, I guess it would stem back to my younger days, when ma tête wasn’t on my shoulders so securely,” he jokes. The group laughs, as we all await the rest of his story.
“I was at dis bar in New Orleans, drinking it up with me filthy buddies. Dere was a bit of a scrabble over something or another, and when it came down to it, I was on de floor, a knife pressed against my throat. I really thought it was de end of old Jean!”
Everyone was leaned forward in their seats, as they awaited the outcome of the tale.
“And, all of a sudden, a bottle smashed over de scoundrel’s head, and he fell to de ground, dropping dat den dere knife. I looked up, and who do I see standing dere? Mon chat sauvage noir, her eyes a flaming.”
Sophie laughs, “Wasn’t for yer benefit, Jean. That fellow hadn’t paid me for his liquor all night. I was jest a bar maid back then.”
Loud laughter filled the air at Soph’s confession. Jean just shook his head.
“Nevertheless, ma petite, you saved my life dat night. Something I’ll never forget. Ye know you’ll always be welcome here on de Barataria.”
Sophie smiles at him warmly, her fingers entwined with his. Damn, if he isn’t the most charismatic man I ever saw! He could charm the dress off a nun, although, he seems content just to use this power on Soph. I want to glare at him, but it is foolhardy.
Jean speaks again, though, “Back den, she was still an innocent. None of dat dere pirate savagery had crossed her yet. Maybe, I was a bad influence, making it all seem so grand to her.”
Watching closely, I notice a sad look cross Sophie’s face. And, that is what got me thinking; maybe this life she led wasn’t purely her own choice. Maybe something had pushed her into these thieving ways. Obviously, she hadn’t had the best of upbringings if she was a barmaid.
“Maybe?” Sophie questions at last, her face thoughtful and back to its good humor, “Yer the one who taught me everything I know! Don’t be a sitting there saying maybe ye were an influence, ye know damn well ye were.”
Knowledge bursts around in my brain, revealing things to me that I had not yet realized. So, it was Jean who helped Sophie into piracy, I bet he even got her the ship. Was it his payment to her for being such a good mistress? For, at this point, I am one hundred percent convinced the two shared a close and very personal past.
However, Jean chuckles at Sophie’s words, deep and throaty, slapping his hand across his knee.
“I can’t help it if ye had de fire in yer spirit, Soph. Ye were meant fer so much more dan a job as a barmaid. And, ye know ye deserve dis better life.”
“This is a better life,” Sophie says lightly, her face implacable as she fiddles with the rich red necklace dangling from her throat. It sounded more like a question than a statement. Things are silent for just an instant, before the loud roar of conversation picks back up.
Stories are told for a long while, before I stand up, excusing myself. Sophie doesn’t follow to our bedroom, and I assume she’ll be there later. At least, she better be. Because, at this point, I don’t think it would take much to send me over the edge.
tbc.....
Falling into the bed, I immediately pass into slumber. I do not think I am asleep for very long before I am awake once more. When I glance around the room, I see Soph is still not there. Angry feelings rise inside, while I stalk to the open window.
My eyes can barely see through the darkness of the island, as the dank humidity seeps in. Yet, I know there are two figures out there on the beach. And, when I see the smaller one stretch up closer to the other shadow, something inside of me snaps. Why is Sophie doing this? I’m right here, waiting and burning for her, yet she will give her body to another man. A crazy rage flows through me, as I plot out ways to push Jean out of the picture. But, it is foolhardy to even entertain them. I am here on his island, any false move or threat towards him, and I’ll go down to see Davy Jones’s locker.
So, I sit, fists balled tightly by my sides. My face is flushed red with anger, I can feel it. And, a jealousy I never suspected I was capable of is flowing through my veins. I don’t care if she is a pirate, a woman with basically no morals, whatsoever. Sophie is mine, she belongs to me. And, I won’t allow another man to put his filthy hands all over her.
It’s at least an hour later, when the door flies open. She prances in; a happy and light look on her face. I guess that is when I lose it. Stalking over, I grab her delicate wrists with my hands, pushing her roughly against the wall.
“Where have ye been?” I growl into her face. A surprised look appears in Sophie’s eyes, as her cheeks flush unmistakably with anger. She struggles a bit in my arms, but I won’t let her escape. I want to know the truth; I deserve to hear it from her lips.
“Don’t be thinking ye own me jest because I let yer hands touch my body,” Sophie whispers, a dangerous edge to her voice that I have never heard before. But, I don’t take the warning. Something about this woman makes me out of control, and just the sheer idea of her with another man is leading me to my breaking point. I’ve backed down to her every other time before, but, tonight belongs to me.
“Where were ye?” I ask again, tightening my grip on her wrists, slamming them back against the wall. With an angry cry, Sophie somehow twists away from me, managing to kick me hard in the shin during the process. As she tries to flee from the room, I capture her around the waist, pulling her tightly back against my solid chest. My fingers move up and rest lightly on the pulse in her throat. The erratic beat only makes me feel more powerful.
“For this night,” I hiss into her ear, “Ye belong to me.”
I feel Sophie’s body shaking, and a tiny whimper escapes her lips. Only, when I lower my mouth to her neck, I feel her arms reach, fingers clawing roughly through my hair. Desire shoots through me, as I spin Sophie around, slamming our lips together. She moans aloud into my mouth, as my tongue pillages her own. Sophie tastes of the aged wine we drank earlier in the evening, yet, even more so sweet and intoxicating. Flicking around, my tongue explores every inch of her mouth before pulling back and running along her bottom lip.
My eyes open, and I watch Sophie as she stands before me. Her chest is heaving, a brilliant blush across that tempting bit of cleavage she bares. Those wide blue eyes of hers are closed, dark lashes fanned across her red cheeks. Sophie’s mouth hangs slightly agape, as her fingers dig into the flesh of my upper arms for support. Slowly, I guide our bodies to the wall, pushing her back against it with the lower part of my torso. She moans aloud when she feels my hardness through her clothes.
“Come on, Bill,” Sophie rasps, at last opening her eyes, “Don’t just stand there.”
With a low growl, I rip that sultry dress from her body, enjoying the sound of buttons hitting the floor. My mouth savagely captures one of her nipples through the sheer shift she is wearing. I let my tongue tease it into arousal, pushing the silky material back and forth over her skin.
Sophie is definitely a cat tonight, mewling as she pulls at my hair with one hand and claws at my chest with the other. Her body is twisting and turning against mine, trying to find some position to best ease that delicious pressure that is building up inside of her. As slowly as I can manage without shaking, I snake my fingers down her smooth stomach. Lower and lower I move until I feel the heat radiating from her. Slipping two of my calloused fingers inside, I revel at the high pitched scream Sophie lets out. Yet, I find this to nearly be my undoing.
“Yer so hot,” I whimper, fighting for some semblance of sanity. I break contact for a moment, it is the only way. Ridding myself of clothing, I capture Sophie’s jaw with my hand.
“Open yer eyes,” I order. Her lids fly open, the brilliant blue exposed to me raging with lust and desire. Teasingly, I press myself against her and she gasps.
“I want ye to see who it is that rules yer body, I want ye to know who makes ye scream,” I state, letting the insulting words flow over her. Sophie grimaces, letting her nails bite into my shoulders.
“Get on with it, then,” she says, her voice low and emotionless.
So, I grab her body, jerking her feet up from the floor. Sophie wraps her legs around my waist, her arms clinging to my back. With one rough motion, I am inside of her. Simultaneous moans of gratification echo in the bedroom, as each of us lose ourselves in the moment. Over and over I thrust inside her exquisite body, as a layer of sweat forms between us. I could come at any moment, but I hold back for her. It’s not over yet; I want to hear Sophie beg for it. And, just when I feel her muscles begin to tense, I pull back, disentangling myself from her heat.
“What are ye doing?” Sophie yells hoarsely, her eyes wild, hair untamed. Staring at her for a moment, I grab a fistful of her black tresses, holding her in place.
“Say that ye belong to me,” I bark, my chest heaving with pent up rage, “I want to fucking hear it from yer mouth.”
Whimpering, Sophie tries to escape my grip. But, I hold fast. She has made me plead before; she has brought me to my knees. It is time for her to know how it feels.
“Jest fuck me, please,” Sophie moans, as I reach out with my free hand and twist one of her nipples slightly.
“It’s only a few little words,” I counter, keeping my desire in check with an iron will.
And, that is when Sophie loses control. Tears of defeat burn in her eyes, as her fingers capture my face, splaying out across my cheeks.
“My body is yers, love,” Sophie admits with swollen lips, “I’ll ne’er let another man touch me. I wouldn’t want them to.”
A mad fever takes over my brain, and with an exalted cry of triumph, I slam back inside her. Sophie screams, her beautiful breasts pushed up against my chest. As I move over and over, she moans uncontrollably in my ear.
“My sweet, sweet Billy,” Sophie babbles incoherently, her head thrashing back and forth, her body writhing against mine. And, when she comes she wails my name in ecstasy. It takes less than a second for me to join her, falling over the mad edge into an abyss of hazy passion.
I’m not sure how long it takes us to drift back to Earth. But, the gentle ministrations of Sophie’s fingers across my back seem to wake me from my trance. I softly set her down, keenly aware of the way she won’t meet my eyes. Sophie walks to the wash basin on the other side of the room, dampening a towel. Slowly, she approaches me, turning my body so my back is facing her. I hiss when the cool water hits my skin.
“I scratched too deep, love,” Sophie whispers, cleaning up the wounds she inflicted upon me. I hadn’t even realized it a moment ago, but, now my back is throbbing. And, as my rationale has finally returned, I spin around to face her. Sophie looks so damn beautiful in this moment, I could just weep. There is a glow about her, and I feel justly satisfied for causing it. Yet, there is still doubt around my heart.
As though she heard my secret fears, Sophie takes my hand in hers, pressing a sweet kiss to my palm. This is the most gentle and caring she has ever been with me, so I dare not say a word.
“Ye should know,” Sophie says, her eyes alive with emotion, “I didn’t do anything with Jean tonight. He is my past, something that has been over for years.”
A red embarrassment flows over my skin, as I know her to be speaking the truth. I acted terribly possessive, for no concrete reason. Yet, Sophie seems to understand.
“I’d have done the same thing if I thought any wench was a touching ye,” her crimson lips confess, and a tight smile takes over my face. I pull Sophie into me, nuzzling her neck and gaining a deep, rich laugh in the process.
“Lad?” she murmurs, as I sweep her up in my arms and carry her to the bed.
“What is it, Soph?” I question, pushing back the hair on her forehead. Sophie’s eyes are wicked again, and I think that little bit of sweet femininity is gone.
“I should have gotten ye jealous a long time ago.”
And, as her cackle fills the room, I can’t help but join in. Maybe we don’t have a conventional romance, but it is not something I’d trade for all the treasure in the world. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again….
A pirate’s life for me.
~end~