--Chapter Thirteen--
Nicola was dozing, tucked between Jack and the wall, when someone pounded on the cabin door. She protested sleepily when Jack slid out of bed.
"Stay here," he murmured, as he pulled the curtain shut.
It was Gibbs at the door. "Cap'n. We've got a Navy vessel in our wake, an' there's a storm comin'."
Jack's brow furrowed a bit. "How bad is the storm, Mr. Gibbs?"
"Sky's green on the horizon."
That meant one thing: a hurricane.
"Make for port," Jack said. "They'll break off, or . . ."
"Cap'n, port's closer to the storm'n we are."
Jack turned and look towards the bed, where Nicola lay. "I know. Proceed, Mr. Gibbs."
She sat up as Jack closed the door, clutching the covers to her bosom when Jack pulled the curtain back. "A hurricane?" she asked.
He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. "We'll be fine, not to worry."
"We're sailing into a
hurricane," she pointed out. Nicola was already throwing back the covers, legs over the edge of the bunk.
There was no time--or point--to put her corset back on, so Nicky pulled on the outer layer of her skirts and the looser bodice. She left her hair down and trailing behind her as she dashed after her husband.
The thought had her crashing into the door. Jack paused, annoyed that she'd followed, but concerned if she was hurt.
"I'm fine," she said.
He spared her little thought after that, not having the luxury at the moment. Jack barked orders at his crew, moving confidently over the pitching deck.
"Shouldn't ye take shelter, Mrs. Sparrow?"
Nicola turned to Gibbs. "Probably."
They both took a moment to watch the captain. "He's made for this, isn't he, Joshamee?" she asked.
"Aye," Gibbs replied. "Many souls what call him a bad pirate. Maybe so. But he's the best natural sailor I've met."
The sky and surrounding evening were rapidly turning the colour of pitch, the clouds at the very west edged with fire, the water a frightening inky green. The storm was coming at them from the south, somewhere beyond Hispaniola, out in the greater waters of the Atlantic. Torrential rains already poured from the tormented sky, a wall of water moving towards the ship, and lightning crackling overhead.
Other than the brilliant flashes of electricity, the only lights out on the water were the
Pearl's own, and those of the pursuing Navy vessel. Even Port Royal had vanished long behind them.
A particularly strong gust of wind pushed Nicola backwards, nearly off her feet. She watched Jack for another moment, then ducked back into the captain's cabin. She caught up his long coat and took it out to the main deck.
"Jack!" she called, over the wind. It had barely begun to rain
on the ship, but already she felt chilled.
He turned, saw the coat, and felt a strange warmth spread through him. He thanked her and, after he'd shrugged into it, he wrapped and arm around her waist and pulled her close.
"Thank you," he said, adding, "Mrs. Sparrow."
He kissed her quickly, thinking that tonight, they shouldn't have to be fighting man
and nature, but warm and safe somewhere, just the two of them. And what kind of thinking was that, for a man who loved the sea and his ship above all else?
A man in love, really, but there was no way he was going to admit that, even to himself. Not yet, at least.
Jack shook himself from those thoughts and gave her a nudge towards the cabin. This time, she went without complaint.
The clouds above burst before she got there, the rain at the edge of the storm coming from the other direction at the same time, and she was instantly drenched. Nicola shivered and gritted her teeth as she pushed the door shut and went to find something dry to put on. She crawled into bed, dressed in the nightgown from before, and doused the lamp. In this, she was useless and would just be in the way, so her only option was to wait.
The wind outside began to howl, and the ship dropped sharply as the wave beneath it crested and broke. Nicola sighed and hugged the pillow, hoping they reached port soon. Occasionally, there was the distant sound of cannon fire, but eventually, it, too, succumbed to the storm. She found herself dozing, despite the noise, and Nic jolted awake when a hand shook her.
It was Jack, with a small lamp in his hand. "Pack your bag, love, we're beaching the ship and taking shelter in some caves on an island nearby. We're not making it to port, storm's worse than I figured."
A cave.
Just where she'd always planned to spend her bridal trip. Still, Nicola rose without comment. Again, she got out of bed and dressed, this time adding boots to her ragtag ensemble. Nicola glanced at Jack as she stuffed what valuables she had into her knapsack.
"The Navy ship?" she asked.
He paused in rolling up maps and papers. "It didn't survive the storm."
She decided not to follow up on that. "Do you think we'll be on the island long?"
Jack grimaced. "A day or two at best. But if we need to repair the
Pearl, could be longer."
When they left the ship, he made sure she was on the first boat. She stood in the dubious shelter of some low trees as the men went to the arduous task of hauling the vessel onto the beach. The ship was heavy, weighing tons, and the heavy rains only made it more difficult.
Some ways inland, there was a sort of cliff-face, pockmarked with crevices that looked to have been carved out by water over centuries. Some had water pouring out of them, and some were dry.
The one Jack chose for the Sparrows was fairly low to the ground, and reachable by a network of step-like rocks inside one of the lower caves, and a short corridor between it and its neighbour. It was deep, and more importantly, unoccupied by anything with more than two legs.
Nicola lowered her bag as she looked around. The cave had an alcove that was almost a separate chamber, and it was here that Jack put their bedrolls. When the other men had cleared out, he arranged a makeshift bed and guided her to it. Jack had moments where he could be an outright cad, but when it came to her well-being, he was usually pretty serious.
There was no real possibility of a fire, as they had no decent wood, but Jack had a few candles amongst the detritus from his cabin and desk. He lit one and affixed it to a large rock so that it shed
some light into their "room".
"Just what you're used to, I'm sure," her husband said, with just a touch of sarcasm.
Before she could respond, there was a footfall in the outer chamber and then Gibbs appeared.
"Tunnels are still open," he reported. Then, seeing Nicola's confusion, he told her, "Some of these caves, more than this one, I mean, are connected, y'see. I be in the next over. But don't worry, it's the only one what connects t'yers."
Nicola looked at Jack. "I take it you've done this more than once."
"A time or two."
Gibbs told his captain that the men had finished transporting the important stuff from the ship and were settled as well as could be. Then he excused himself.
"It's the Caribbean," she muttered after a bit. "It should not be this cold."
Jack yanked off his boots. "Come with me, Nicky, I'll show you something."
Nicola removed her boots at his direction, then followed him. Gibbs had left a torch in the outer chamber of their cave and Jack picked it up as he passed. She followed him to the back of the main cave, where an outcropping hid a depression a few feet wide and roughly waist-deep on her, filled with water that smelled vaguely of sulfur.
"A spring," she said, dumbfounded.
"A
hot spring, in point of fact," he corrected. "It's why I chose this cave in particular. Aside from its added benefits of defensibility and privacy, savvy?"
She grinned and stripped off her sodden clothes, leaving only her shift. The rest she laid out to let dry as best they would, and she stepped into the water.
The groan she let out was indecent. "Oh, this is wonderful. I haven't had a proper soak since I arrived in Jamaica."
They wouldn't be going anywhere for a good, long while, so Jack stripped down to his shirt only and joined her in the heated water. After several long minutes in which they let the cold seep from their bones, Nicola spoke.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
She shrugged. "You having to marry me. I never intended for that to happen."
Jack made a face, then slogged through the water to where she sat on a small ledge. He knelt before her, the water up to his neck, and took her hands in his.
"What's done is done," he said. "I didn't want it. We both know that, aye? But now I have you, well, you're mine, savvy?"
Nicola nodded. "I only wanted to make sure you knew that I didn't trick you into anything."
"No, of course you didn't. Who'd want a pirate, anyway?" He said it lightly, but there was a thread there . . .
"Me," she said softly. "I would."
He gave her a crooked, gold-toothed smile.
Nicola reached for him under the water, finding him flaccid. Touching him there was still new to her, but he didn't protest when she began stroking him, so she must not have been doing anything incorrectly. In fact, he hissed out a breath between his teeth and thrust into her hand as his length grew and hardened.
"Jack . . . What you did for me, with your mouth. Is there something like that I can do for you?"
He nearly lost it right then at her words. "Aye," he gasped out. By Calypso, she was a fast learner. Jack had to grab her hand before he lost control.
"Show me?" She chewed on her bottom lip and it was all he could do not to kiss her senselessly.
He moved to the edge of the small pool and sat there, legs in the water, his erection jutting between the tails of his shirt. "Here, Nicky."
She swam over and placed her hands on his thighs, studying his thick shaft. Jack slid his foreskin back, showing her how it worked, then said, "You use your tongue. However you'd like. No teeth, though, savvy? Not yet, leastways."
Nicola closed her fingers around him, holding him still as she gave a tentative lick to the head. He throbbed in her hand, growing even harder with arousal at her mouth pressing a kiss there.
"I want to make you feel good, like you made me feel," she whispered. Nicola flicked her tongue over the slit, then licked him from root to head. "Am I doing this right?"
All Jack could do was nod. She smiled and spent some time repeating the motion, before she decided to try taking him into her mouth. Nicola didn't suck on much of his length, just an inch or two, but her hands did the rest. It was very unusual, she thought, but also exciting.
For Jack, teaching his new bride how to orally please him was one of the biggest thrills ever. It wasn't long before he was panting, "Nic, stop, I'm about to-"
She pulled back, looking at him curiously. He erupted in her hands, splashing his seed over her slender fingers. Nicola watched with wide-eyed fascination at the proceedings, finding it strangely erotic. So that was what happened when he was inside her!
Putting her fingers to her mouth, she licked at one milky drop, then made a face at the taste. She washed her hands off in the warm water as Jack lowered himself back into the spring.
"Was that right?" she asked him.
"Perfect," he pronounced.
She smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him.
Jack carried her out of the pool and to their makeshift bed. Since his shirt was still wet, he stripped it off and and spread it to dry beside the rest of their clothes. Nicola tossed her shift at him and grinned from where she huddled beneath the blankets.
He'd left the torch by the pool, and went to fetch it.
"We should save it," she murmured, when he brought it back to their alcove. "And the candles. We may need them later."
"Wise thinking."
Outside, the wind howled. It was dark enough that neither could see anything through the narrow crevice that formed the cave's exterior opening. Jack dowsed the torch, then pinched the little flame on the guttering candle.
He slipped under the blankets and pulled Nicola into his arms. Skin to skin, they lay in the dark, hands exploring each other slowly.
"Nicky," he said against her mouth. "You deserve more than this, a bedding on a stone floor."
"Hush." She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth. "Make love to me, Jack."
He shifted her to her side and pressed up against her back, his erection stirring against the cleft of her buttocks. Easier this way, for both of them.
She sighed as he slid into her, shivering with arousal at every caress of his fingers on her flushed body. His lips dropped kisses on her jaw and down her neck. His thrusts were slow and steady, nothing urgent. After all, they weren't going anywhere for a good while.
When Jack slid his hand between her thighs and found the sensitive nub there, Nicola fell apart in his arms, a hand stuffed into her mouth to muffle her hoarse cry. He followed moments later, his groan stifled against her shoulder.
Nicola shuddered and sighed, rolling over to snuggle against him. He pushed her hair back, over her shoulder, and ghosted a kiss against her cheek.
"Mm. Jack," she mumbled, then yawned sleepily. "Love . . . you."
His hand stilled, fingers caught in her hair. "Pardon?"
But she was already fast asleep and didn't respond.
A funny little bubble of emotion welled in Jack's gut. Women had said it before, but they'd never meant it. Not really.
But something told him that Nicola did, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it. Because, blast it, he was in love with her, and he didn't know what to do about that, either.
He sighed and wrapped his arms tight around her. He'd deal with it in the morning. It had been a very, very long day, and he needed sleep.
It was surprisingly easy, though, with Nicky in his arms, to follow her into slumber.
