Kindred Spirits

Chapter 10

Desperate Measures

Devon suddenly pushed him aside – breaking away from the best kiss ever and ignoring the passion that pumped through her veins. Hell she was ignoring her body all together. She couldn't go through with it... even though she wanted to. God knows she wanted to...

'There, all done. Show's over folks, nothing more ta see here,' she said with as much determination in her voice as she could muster.

My God, if the man's as good between the sheets as he is a kisser, I've just made one hell of a mistake.

Jack wasn't about to give up so easily though and grabbed her wrists once more, 'Just where do ye think ye are ye goin, lass? I don't think we're done yet.' His face showed an impression that displayed disappointment, horniness and anger all at once.

'I'm goin' where ever these gorgeous legs'll take me – unless something unexpected comes in... erm I mean up! And I happen ta think we are quite done, Sparrow. At least, I'm through with you. Goodbye," she said icily, walking away from the man that has just given her more fulfilment in a single kiss than any other man had ever done with any of their body parts.

That one kiss had made her weak, loose her guard, and loose her mind all in that single moment. She had to escape, needed to break free and regain control over the situation, before it was too late.

She walked towards a relatively handsome man.

'Your turn, lad,' she said taking his hand and dragging him towards the upstairs chambers. The man eagerly stood up to follow this gorgeous woman to wherever she was going.

'Here's where the fun really starts, Sparrow,' she said flatly, eyes shining with amusement as she walked past him towards the staircase.

At least, she hoped she was keeping her amused façade well, because she did not like the idea of her true emotions showing at that particular moment.

Jack stood there completely by himself cursing this Hellcat for existing, cursing himself for falling into her trap, and cursing the feelings that had erupted from deep within him.

'Enjoy yerself then lass,' he shouted after her as he wrapped his arms around the waist of the first strumpet that walked by.

'I know I will,' he murmured, his eyes twinkling with mischief, while kissing the girl he held on her neck.

She hadn't heard his last comment, nor did she want to. She was already at the top of the stairs, her mind on things other than Sparrow's inane ramblings, as she dragged the man into a room. She ripped his clothes off, as she was determined to get satisfaction one way or the other. But instead of having fun doing what she thought she enjoyed best, she found herself unable to concentrate on what she was doing. Having a little fun had never been this unsatisfying before.

She found her mind constantly going back to thoughts of Sparrow and the way he had almost broke down her barrier of control. That man is dangerous, she thought as she rode the man beneath her. Here she was, screwing a man, and not being able to think about anything but bloody Sparrow! She had to clear her mind and get rid of HIS scent. Jack Sparrow smelled salty like the ocean, bitter sweet like rum and a bit of herbal that she couldn't quite identify. He smelled like freedom. She cursed herself for the detour her mind had taken and tried to focus on her victim again.

Even using men wasn't as much fun as it used to be! Not with HIM crossing her mind with every move she made. Had she really made a mistake by letting him go? No, Dee, ye haven't. You did the right thing. That man's a pain in the arse, the nails to yer coffin. He's an egocentric, insufferable fool and he ain't even worth spitting on!

Although...he was possibly the best kisser she had ever met.

She heard the man beneath her moan her name. It was things like this that had normally had her grinning wickedly, but now it just disgusted her. 'Try to make a little more effort there, mate. Or do ye want me ta do it all by my onesies?' she snapped with an agitated voice. She heard another moan and then the movements of the man beneath her stopped completely. He looked at her sheepishly with reddened cheeks.

Abruptly she climbed down from the man she had been riding, putting on her blouse and breeches at lightning speed.

'Get out!' she shouted to the man who was looking at her with big eyes. 'Ye heard me ya good fer nothing stupid piece of shit! Get the hell out!'

'B-b-b-but D-d-devon...' the man said with a thick and husky voice.

'Don't 'D-d-devon' me ye illiterate fool! It's Miss Duville to the likes of ye! Now get yer scrawny ass out of here!' she hollered as she threw his clothes in his face.

As the man stood naked before her, she could tell he had enjoyed their little romp more than she had. Devon rolled her eyes at the pathetic sight.

Lazily she grabbed her silver pistol, letting her fingers stroke lovingly across the engraved barrel, tracing the flowing lines of her name with her fingertips.

As she glanced over the barrel towards the man, she saw the man had made no effort to get dressed at all. He was just standing there looking like a complete moron in all his naked glory, staring at her with an expression on his face as if he'd just seen water burn.

She pointed her gun in his direction, and the expression on his face rapidly shifted from shy and sheepish to frightened and afraid.

'What part of GET OUT do ye not comprehend, lad?' she said tapping her bare foot impatiently on the ground and spinning her pistol around on her index finger.

Still he did nothing. He simply stood there like a pillar as his erection started to wear off. At least that part of his body had understood me threat, she thought.

'Don't make me do this the hard way, lad. I have ta pay for the room, I really don't want ta have ta pay extra fer causin' mayhem in it...' she said with her rich voice.

'Okay, we'll take it nice and slow fer ye ... Look lad, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, take yer pick!' Now she was really getting annoying with this bloke. Not yer fault he's a moron, Dee.

He finally understood and attempted to put on his breeches, shirt and boots simultaneously while running out of the room.

'That's a good boy!' she called and a small chuckle followed him out of the room. Stupid blighter didn't even notice she hadn't unlocked her gun to begin with...

'Yer mad woman!' he yelled back to her just before she heard the sound of a horny drunk man falling down the stairs.

Her chuckle became a throaty laugh as she her him hit the bottom. Men! Apparently it's easy to be that stupid when they only think with their dicks.

She kicked the doorframe with her foot to release the anger that was still welled up inside her, but failing to notice she didn't have her sea boots on. 'DAMN! BLOODY HELL that hurt!'

After a long string of cursing, she hopped on her good foot towards the staircase in search for her dog. She left the door of her room open.

'BULLET, HEEL!' she hollered down the stairs. That was all it took. A few moments later her small dog had found his way to its mistress.

Devon picked him up and carried him towards the bed. The scent of arousal still lingered in the room as Devon and her beloved Bulled lied down on the bed, snuggling close together.

He had taken the strumpet to a room and she had unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his breeches and was giving him oral pleasures. He should be enjoying this... he was enjoying this, now if it weren't for the thoughts running through his mind about the Hellcat he had kissed before...

The thought of her lips and her eyes drove him insane. He tried to focus on the strumpet, but he couldn't get rid of the image of Devon. He shook his head, trinkets jingling, to rid his mind from the wicked wench that claimed his thoughts.

He felt his muscles contracting, and only by entering a state of pure bliss he finally free his mind from all thoughts of the Hellcat.

It was then he heard her rich voice holler in the hallway, and although he couldn't make out the exact words, he knew for sure it was her voice he had heard.

Jack needed to focus on something other than Devon Duville, so he started pleasing the girl he had taken to bed. He used to enjoy watching the women he took to bed cringle in ecstasy, but now it was just a routine that he was doing out of politeness. He just couldn't enjoy himself like he used to... Like he could before he met HER.

After he was done he kissed the girl, tossed a few shillings on the bed and stepped out of the door. As he looked down the stairs he saw the man Devon had latched onto, lying at the bottom of the staircase, with only half of his clothing on. Raising an eyebrow at the sight, he looked from the man towards the only closed door in the corridor and back to the man once again. If he's down here and that door is still closed, then she's gotta be in there.

Jack strode quickly to the closed door, and opened it. He saw Devon and her dog lying closely together on the bed. Now that's an unexpected sight... The hellcat lying there, sleeping like a little angel, snuggling that ugly dog o' hers close to her chest.

Devon heard footsteps enter her room and she opened one eye slightly, looking through her eyelashes. What she found was Jack Sparrow staring at her with a frown on his face. She knew he didn't expect her to be awake, and decided that scaring the shit out of him would be most amusing... so as he stepped close enough for her to see his knees, she spoke.

'Oy, pirate! Do ye always sneak up on sleeping women?' she practically screamed the words out, causing him to jump backwards cursing.

'Dammit woman, ye scared me!'

'Why? Are we angry because you've just revealed yer secret to me?' her voice was dripping with sarcasm and her eyes sparkled. 'Sneaking up on sleeping women in order ta have yer filthy way with them? I was thinking something like that would be yer routine.'

'Bloody hell, Duville. Shut yer filthy mouth for once. Ye've scared the bejezus out of me!'

'Ah, ye wet yer pants, boy? Such a shame...' she said idly while she stretched herself out.

'Wanted to get out of 'em anyways, Duville,' he said with a deep voice, eyes twinkling in amusement.

'No need fer that, mate. Don't want to get yerself hurt, now would ye?'

'Gonna toss me down the stairs, luv? Just like ye did with the poor bloke that ye had yer way with?'

'I might... But I don't intend on havin' my way with the likes of ye. Not now, not ever, Sparrow. So if you would be so kind as to leave me alone, I would be very grateful,' she said stepping out of the bed slowly. 'Besides, it would never work between us, you fool. For my intelligence and yer stupidity would not get along well. And in addition to that, I don't think ye have in ye to entertain or satisfy a woman like myself. And of course I would have ta kill ye sooner or later.'

'That's an insult, ye wench!' Jack fumed, trembling from the anger inside of him. He stood there like a volcano that was about to erupt.

'Cela est vrai, mon cher! Or should I say that in plain English, for ye to understand?'

'You're crossing borders there missy...' his eyes shot daggers at her.

She stepped closer to him with her hands crossing her chest and a bold look in her eye.

'Is that a threat?'

He unsheathed his cutlass pointing it in the side of her neck. 'I think it is, luv.'

Devon grabbed her pistol and unlocked the safety, while taking one more step in his direction. She felt the point of his cutlass slide slightly into her flesh, but she didn't wince. It hurt her, but she was too stubborn and proud to let him see that. 'Since my bullet travels faster than yer thrust,' raising an eyebrow whilst saying 'thrust' and allowing her eyes wander off below his belt, 'I suggest ye drop that sword, or I'm gonna make ye regret ye ever met me.'

'Ye already achieved that ye evil vixen.'

Just as Devon was about to pull the trigger, he kicked it out of her hands far beyond her reach.

Devon reached for her trusty dagger in a split second and threw it in his direction. He winced as the knife scraped the skin of his upper arm before falling to the ground. She didn't mean to hurt him so bad, just to warn him not to mess with her.

'Bleedin' hell! I didn't mean to slit yer throat before, but now ye leave me no other choice,' he shot forward causing his sword to slide into her flesh even deeper.

Devon blinked, still trying not to show how much he hurt her.

'There's always a choice Jack,' she said calmly, 'even not choosing is a choice...' She took a step back, narrowing her eyes, focusing them on her opponent.

'Ye don't even deserve to be run trough with my blade, stupid wench,' he said emotionless as he replaced his sword once more in its sheath.

'Well, mon cher, I really must be going now... Being that we set sail tomorrow, ye know,' she said matter-of-factly while turning towards Bullet.

She ran her fingertips over her neck where his sword had cut her. She felt a warm wetness that she expected, and as she looked at her hand crimson red was showing on her fingertips. Her eyes went from her fingertips to her dagger on the floor. 'Sorry 'bout that, I tend to loose my temper sometimes.'

'As do I,' he retorted, rubbing the bleeding scar her dagger had made on his arm.

Devon stepped forward, cupping his face in her hands as she pulled him closer. He yanked his head backwards, but then he looked into her eyes and studied her expression. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Either she hated his guts or she hated herself for not hating him as much as she should have.

'I suppose ye'll need something to remember me by Sparrow, because I hope I'll never have to lay eyes on you again.'

'I think the scar will pretty much do the trick, Duville.'

'As mine will be the only reminder I'll ever need of you Sparrow... but I actually had something else in mind.'

Before he could respond, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her warm lips against his. He couldn't help himself; he parted his and invited her in. There was even more passion in this kiss as the in the one they had shared before. Devon felt him pressing his body against hers and she could feel the unmistakable proof of his arousal. She felt her knees grow weak and pearls of sweat started forming on her brow. Than the agonizing pleasure of provocation seized as Jack broke away.

He readjusted his hat and fidgeted with the sash he wore around his waist, to hide what he didn't want her to see. Although he was pretty sure she had already felt that poking in her abdomen. He looked into the deep midnight blue of her eyes. Damn that woman. Devon tightened her leather vest while turning away from him and put her boots on. As she bent over to lace the boots and retrieve her dagger, he could see a dark tattoo on her lower back just above the band of her breeches. He tried to discern the design, but just as he was about to move in for a closer look, she rose to her full length again, and the tattoo was hidden underneath the black leather of her tight vest.

'Sparrow?'

'Aye?'

'On second thought, just forget about me,' she said with a slight unsteady voice, 'Cause I sure as hell intend on forgetting about you...' she turned around and looked him straight in the eye. 'This never happened.'

She managed to recover her voice and said the last words in the harshest tone she could muster.

'Don't worry, luv I tend to forget whores rather quickly.'