Enslaved by the Ocean
Page 32

“I need a shirt, something to tie her foot. She cut it,” Hendrix orders.
“Here.”
A moment later, a shirt is thrust toward us from the darkness. Hendrix catches it, and then shines the flashlight toward the dull light coming from the distance. He runs toward it just as the first crack of lightning hits the tree behind us. I scream, and he moves quicker, until he basically slides us into the small cave. As soon as the rain stops pounding against my skin, the shivering becomes violent. Hendrix lowers us down against the wall of the cave until we’re both on the ground. I can hear the rustling and frantic chatting around us, but I can’t focus on it, I’m shaking so hard.
“You’re fuckin’ freezing,” Hendrix murmurs, shifting me until I’m tucked into his side.
“We’ve got blankets, Cap.”
“I got one,” he says.
“It’s s…s…soaked,” I rasp.
“Waterproof cover,” he says, placing the flashlight down, dropping the sleeping bag off his shoulder and then reaching for the shirt.
I hear a tearing sound, and then he shines the torch on my foot. I see blood as soon as it flashes across my skin, and I turn my eyes away quickly.
“Deep gash,” he says, turning my foot from side to side.
I don’t say anything; I just sit, shivering, as he ties the torn strand of shirt around my foot. When he’s done, he shines the torch around the crew. “Everyone got something warm?”
They all mutter a “yeah.”
“Get some sleep; this will be a long one.”
He grips me and all our things, and slides us right to the far left corner where it’s quieter. The wind is howling outside, and the rain is hammering down so hard I can hear the droplets against the stones. The thunder crackles through the sky, and I can hear the faint sounds of the crewmembers trying to talk over it.
“Shirt off,” Hendrix says suddenly.
“What?” I rasp.
“You need to get those clothes off, trust me. You won’t dry in here, and you’ll freeze.”
“But…”
“Just do as you’re fucking told,” he barks.
I quickly grip my shirt and pull it over my head, and then I discard my soaked jeans. Hendrix rips his shirt off, and shuffles out of his jeans, too, before opening the sleeping bag and rolling it out. He gets in, unzips it, and opens it up for me.
“Y…y…you want me to get in there…with you?”
“Survival. Trust me, I’m not happy about it either, but it works.”
My teeth clatter together as I hesitate.
“Don’t play with me, Indi, just get in.”
“Do it, Indi,” I hear Jess say from the darkness. “Please.”
“Indi,” Eric pleads. “Don’t.”
“Oh for fuck’s sakes,” Hendrix grumbles, reaching out, gripping my arm and pulling me down.
I go easily. It’s hard not to when you’re so cold. He pulls me into his side and then throws the blanket over us. I stiffen for the longest moment, unable to feel anything but his cool body against mine, but that soon begins to turn warm and my shivering stops. Exhaustion washes over me, and I drop my head into his arm, smelling the seawater on his skin.
“Not such a stupid idea now, is it?” he murmurs.
“No,” I whisper.
His fingers slide up my back, where he begins to rub my skin.
“Is your foot hurting?”
I concentrate for a moment on the ache in my foot; it’s not too bad. “It’s dealable.”
“Try and get some sleep. This storm ain’t going anywhere for tonight, and we usually have a solid day’s work to tidy up the ship.”
I nod into his shoulder, and close my eyes. As I begin to drift off, I begin sliding my fingers over the hard, warm muscles on his stomach. I don’t realize I’m doing it; it’s just a semi-conscious movement. My eyelids feel heavy, but my fingers keep moving, sliding up and down, around and around. It’s only when Hendrix makes a throaty sound that I blink a few times, and realize my fingers are off in their own little world. I instantly stop them, and heat rises up in my cheeks. Shit.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him.
I start up the gentle stroking again, over and over, around and around, until I can feel him panting beside me, his body tight and firm. He’s enjoying it, and when I shift and feel the throb between my legs, I realize I am, too. I roll slightly, and I feel his fingers splay out over my belly. Oh, God. Are we doing this? In the pouring rain, in a cave full of pirates? I bite my lip, knowing I should stop him, but also knowing I can’t.
His fingers slide down lower, finding my panties. I hold my breath, and keep moving my fingers over his hard stomach. When he slides his fingers inside, I stiffen all over and bite my lip even harder to avoid crying out. He reaches down between my legs, parting my folds with his fingers before finding my clit. Oh. God. His thumb makes big, firm circles around the aching nub as his forefinger edges lower, finding my entrance that is already damp for him. Oh shit, I should be stopping this. I should be, but…
Oh, God.
He slides a finger inside me.
I stiffen all over, and his other hand grips my head, turning my face so it’s pressed against his chest. He holds me there, making sure I don’t scream and let the entire cave know he’s got his finger deep inside me. He slides it out, before plunging it back in. My back arches, and my legs begin to quake. It takes every ounce of willpower inside of me not to scream. I’m biting my lip so hard I can taste blood, but I don’t care. God, I don’t care.