Candy Corn and Cocky Kisses Read online

  Afraid to move—every step was one closer to orgasm—Jenny procured a nearby chair and planted her bottom in it, watching as he approached with two drinks, his feet stepping in tune to “I Want Candy” by Bow Wow Wow.

  Wow wow was right. His face and hair might be obscured by his costume but the strength of his thighs, now at eye level—how could she not look?—and the ridge centered between them was just right.

  Jenny groaned and squirmed against the pearls. To think, she’d thought this Halloween would be a bust.

  “Ahoy, wench. Those pearly lips o’ yours look so damn kissable.”

  He’d cut right to the chase, now hadn’t he? Even if his accent had fallen off at the end.

  “They do?” Slickgloss Tawny Sunset to the rescue. Jenny ran her tongue over her lips, aware of his uncovered eye chasing after her every move.

  “For the flag-raising wench.” He handed her one of the drinks and pulled out a chair, sitting next to her.

  Was his cock the flag? Biting back her smile of satisfaction, Jenny glanced at the glass in her hand. Blood-red martini, complete with floating eyeballs, er…olives.

  Ew. She looked at his drink, pale pink and fizzy. “Let’s trade.”

  “Whatever brings ye pleasure, matey,” he murmured, leaning close. “Always drink rum responsibly, that’s me motto.”

  “Rum?” She pulled the cherry from the pink liquid and popped it into her mouth. “More like Sprite and grenadine, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Argh. What self-respectin’ pirate admits to drinking Shirley Temples?”

  “The really wise ones, Mr. Pirate. I’m impressed.” She traded their drinks back.

  “Need to keep me kidneys in shipshape, ye know.”

  She watched him take several swallows. “I thought drinking affected your liver.”

  “Liver, shmiver, wench. I already finished me one martini fer the night. Now it’s on to me treats.” His fingers toyed with her candy corn necklace. “Starting here?”

  Damn. Something about his scent was familiar…arousing.

  But tonight, everything was arousing. It was soon to become her favorite word.

  Starting here? What? Jenny ignored his question, instead choosing to wrap her fingers around his and guide them to the base of the glass. She drew the martini to her mouth and took a tiny sip—not as bad as it looked—flicking her tongue into the liquid and stealing an olive.

  The ball rolled in her mouth and she nibbled, swallowing tiny bites as she savored the salty tang and watched him watching her…

  Had she ever felt sexier? More confident? It must be the lace and pearls.

  That or the sculpted muscles in his upper arms. “I’ve got buried treasure, all right,” she said as seductively as she could. “Do you feel like searching my depths?”

  “That I do.” Her pirate brushed his finger over one of her candy corn earrings. “Answer me, wench,” he said in a husky murmur, licking below her ear and sending the earring swinging. “My treat?”

  “Eat my candy corn?” No way. Jenny grabbed his hand and placed it on her thigh. “No you may not. That’s reserved for my date tonight.”

  “Oh.” He stiffened. “And who might that be?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Oh no?” One makeup-darkened brow lifted in curiosity. “As the captain of this here vessel, I command you tell me how I can secure the position of your date for tonight. Argh.” He made a show of sniffing her ear, causing her to laugh. “These treasures are made for plundering.”

  “Prove your worth, pirate,” she dared, feeling lighthearted.

  “What’s this? A mutiny?” His hand pulled free, covering hers. Smothering. Pressing it to her knee.

  “Let me go.” Jenny pulled back, wincing at the unexpected pain that shot through her bones, straight up her arm. Swallowing her hesitation, she flashed him a glance through platinum bangs. “I’m sorry. My hand was broken and that hurt.”

  He stared at her a moment and gave a short nod, reclaiming her hand once again, this time softly, gently. His fingers stroked hers. “Well aren’t we a pair? Your right, my left.”

  His hand had been broken? She searched for scars, finding a nasty one that ran from his thumb to his wrist.

  “How did it happen?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “Ah…let’s just chalk it up to rough seas and a shipwreck. Yours?”

  “Got caught in the candy corn maker.” She laughed, picking up her drink and finding it empty. Her tongue caught another olive, swirling it from the glass into her mouth. She chewed it slowly, certain she’d found—or rather he’d found her—the man to be her date for the night. Her lay.

  If she could go through with this.

  Of course she could. She had to—her long-denied pussy commanded it. Aye, aye, this man needed to be her captain, to sail in her seas, to ride her waves.

  Gulping, Jenny wiggled in her chair, wishing she could reach beneath her skirt and readjust her panties. Or sex toy. She hadn’t figured out what to call them. Sitting still was worse than walking—the pearls had gotten jammed between into her swollen, wet folds.

  So freaking arousing…

  Just like the knowing look in his eye—as if he suspected where her thoughts had gone. Straight to her crotch.

  Jenny grappled for sense and grabbed a full glass of wine from a passing waiter dressed like Frankenstein. Had Alexis known the results these panties would create?

  Of course she did. After all, Jenny had talked her into wearing Ben Wa balls to her wedding rehearsal…for a wedding that never happened. And here she sat in Alexis’ mother’s very proper home, about to offer herself up to be plundered. But her best friend was right. She couldn’t hide from men and relationships forever.

  Relationships? Ha. After what Carter had put her through, a relationship was the last thing she was wanted.

  Good sex? A hard cock? Now that she missed.

  She’d promised herself to be brazen, sleazy even, tonight. To take the first hard cock she came across and come all over it—to ride some man like a battery-powered dildo. Over and over.

  And that was exactly what she intended to do. No more second-guessing. No more running out of batteries.

  She might be the commitment type of gal but she never intended to commit again. One-night stands were a far better option than a life filled with vibrators and porn. “You haven’t told me your name, pirate.”

  “Tonight, you can call me Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please.” He stood and offered her a swaggering bow, then reclaimed his seat. “And you, milady?”

  Jenny plucked the remaining olive from the glass and fed it to him. “Oh, I don’t know…I’m a tricky treat.”

  Her thumb traced his full lip, explored the sandpaper-like whiskers along his jaw beneath the attached beard. The song’s chorus sounded again. “Call me Candy, Captain Jack.”

  “Ah…Candy.” His sole blue eye sparkled, bored into her, questioning, demanding. “So Mistress Candy, let’s make this booty call official.”

  “Booty call?” She laughed at the double entendre. “Captain Jack, I prefer to think of it as hunting for buried treasure.”

  He suddenly got serious. “Do I have yer word, Candy wench? Is this a date?”

  “My word?” she laughed off his unexpected intensity. A date for sex doesn’t mean you’re in a freaking relationship. “Why, Captain, you must bargain better than that. Treasure comes at a price. Name yours.”

  “Aye there, so that’s how ’tis.” Sitting back in his chair, he gave a short nod. “I’m in no mood for bartering. A bet, perhaps?”

  She swallowed the remainder of the wine, appreciating the rush of heat that slid down her throat. “Mmmm. A bet?”

  “Aye. I bet I can make you want me. Captain Jack has a way with the ladies. Two kisses and you’re mine.”

  “Ten kisses.” What was she doing? Getting drunk? Betting with a pirate?

  As if her libido was answering her, her hips jerked and r
olled, rubbing her clit against the pearls. Moisture seeped between her thighs, making the little balls even slicker. Jenny bit back a moan.

  “Three,” he countered.

  “Six?” she squeaked.

  “Five.”

  He’d had her at two.

  Chapter Two

  Tricky Trick

  “Done.” Jenny clenched the muscles in her crotch and stood. Her pirate followed suit, his eye glinting. She reached up and tapped the beads dangling from the bottom of his beard. “What just happened?”

  He groaned and curved one arm around her waist, hauling her close. “I don’t know, baby,” he whispered in a deep voice, “but I think we’ve just made a bet that with five kisses I can have you at my feet, begging.”

  Her reaction was immediate. Every muscle in her body tensed. Her mind screamed in protest. “I don’t beg. Ever.”

  Never again.

  “That’s okay. I don’t want a woman at my feet.”

  Thank God. Her kind of man. Not that she had a “kind” any more. Why did she keep worrying? She was as horny as hell and had a hot pirate at her fingertips. She’d come to this party with a plan—start living and loving again. No better time than the present. “Unless she’s sucking your cock?”

  “There is that.” Tilting his head, he nibbled the side of her mouth. “Are you offering?”

  “No! No.” She moderated her tone and mashed her tingling lips together. So much for Tawny Sunset. “But I do think I’m flirting. Aren’t we?”

  “Pirates don’t flirt. We take.” Unexpectedly, he swooped her up, placing her over his shoulder with care and securing his arms around her thighs.

  Jenny cried out in surprise but he kept walking, maneuvering his way through the laughing crowd, past knowing comments. Jenny couldn’t believe it. She was getting swept off her feet by a pirate who was patting her bottom and whistling along with “Monster Mash”.

  How could anybody whistle along with that?

  “What are you doing?” she laughed, holding on to his belt for dear life. Good God, she hoped this didn’t get back to Carter. Not that she cared. They were over. He was gone.

  But the reaction was instinctive, like a scar in her gut that could never be erased. She had to fight it every day for the rest of her life.

  And that’s exactly what she’d do. Fight back. Not allow the past to scar her future.

  And she’d start by screwing Jack.

  “Whisking you away, milady.” He turned down a hallway, then another, passed through the kitchen—to the chuckles of the waitstaff—and out the back of the mansion.

  He sure knew his way around the Tarleton estate, didn’t he? Who was this masked…er…eye-patched man? Giggling so hard she could hardly breathe—his shoulder pressing into her stomach didn’t help—she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I’m takin’ ya to me ship.”

  His ship?

  Away from the house, the dank night smacked into her, creating instant goose bumps on her arms. Jenny inhaled the scents of fall, loving how gently dominant he was being with her. Gentle being the operative word. Not only did a man have his hands on her, she was under his power at the moment—sexually—and didn’t feel a speck of fear. In contrast, with every long, determined stride he took through the humid air and over the freshly manicured lawn, her arousal grew.

  One of his hands slid beneath her dress and grabbed her stocking-covered bottom. “Almost there, milady.”

  “Your ship?” She nuzzled against him, hugging his back, wondering if she was certifiably insane for letting some stranger carry her off to his “ship”.

  His ship. Or rather…Mr. Tarleton’s boat moored out back.

  Happy Halloween to me.

  Jack’s heavy boots clanked on the dock. The moisture coming off Sag Harbor created heavy fog in the air, wrapping the fantasy around her.

  A thrill shot through Jenny, from her blood-heavy head and toes to her up-in-the-air ass. Forget the pearl g-string, her pirate was the most arousing thing she’d ever come into contact with. His searching fingers had just encountered the strand of beads centered below the lacey waistband and were slowly exploring…

  This had to be the most romantic, titillating thing to ever happen in her life, by far.

  Thank you, Captain Jack Sparrow.

  His shoulder suddenly shifted as he stepped onto the luxury yacht and rolled her off, placing her on her feet. Her balance wavered and she grabbed his arm, playing her role to the hilt. “Captain, you rogue. Stealing me away.” She couldn’t wait to thank him. “Whatever will you do with me?”

  Light from the big house spilled out onto the lawn. Overhead, a lamp from the dock cast them in shadow as he guided her along the softly wobbling deck. “Aye. I’ll be thinkin’ of several hundred things, I’m sure.”

  The sounds of the party could he heard in the distance, conversation and music blending to cover anything they might want to do aboard their own private sexual fantasy boat.

  “Tell me, Miss Candy Corn.” At one end of the deck, Captain Sparrow bracketed her waist and easily swung her onto the upper level of the stern. He took the steps and came up behind her just as she placed her hands on the polished wheel. He slipped one finger beneath the homemade strands adorning her neck. “Are ye a tease?”

  His touch came perilously close to the exposed portion of her breasts. Jenny remained silent, curious how far he’d go.

  He didn’t disappoint. One long finger edged right over her nipple. “Umm.”

  “Methinks the lady is acting like a bit of a tease.”

  “Youthinks?” His accent really was deplorable. Adorable.

  And if his damn finger teased her nipple any longer, she’d cream her tights into kingdom come without having a chance to come around him. “Tonight’s Halloween, Captain—”

  “Argh!” he interrupted. “Yer calendar’s off.”

  “I’m pretending it’s officially Halloween all weekend long—this year it’s smack in the middle of the week, which sucks,” she grumbled, lifting her chest and moaning when he tweaked her nipple again. “Especially because Halloween’s my absolute favorite holiday.”

  How could you get all dressed up and think of nothing but candy and chocolate when you have a full caseload? Or when you have sexy pirate fingers doing things to your breasts that should be outlawed?

  “And I do believe you’re mistaken.” Going with the flow, she pushed her bottom into his erection, earning a groan from both of them “I’m not dressed as candy corn and I’d never be something as naughty as a tease.”

  He bent low and began nuzzling the string of candy corns around her neck, breathing hotly over her shoulder. “Then what are you?”

  When he completely abandoned his pirate-speak, there was something she almost recognized in his voice but she couldn’t quite place it. Probably just the refined elocution of a born and raised Hamptonite.

  “What am I?” Jenny turned around and caressed the length of his cock, delighted to feel the width of his erection pressing into her palm. “I’m your treat for tonight.”

  “And you have five kisses to prove you’re worth it.”

  Brad laughed, feeling completely confident. She was his tonight. They both knew it. “It’ll only take two, wench.”

  “Two kisses? Why, Captain Jack, aren’t you being cocky?”

  He thrust against her exploring fingers, showing her just how cocky he could be. “You tell me.”

  Jenny abandoned his shaft and tugged on his beard, pulling his mouth to hers, then she boldly thrust her tongue inside.

  Hot woman, fine vodka and the promise of sex on the horizon. Brad knew there might be rough waters ahead but for the rest of tonight, he expected smooth sailing.

  Part of him knew it was an awful trick he played on her but she wanted it as much as he did. Even now, she’d backed up against the wheel, using it as leverage to press closer to his groin and offered herself up to him.

  Jenny’s body was his for the plunderin
g, the best treat any man could ask for and he bet the taste of her pussy was better than fine caviar.

  He could practically smell her already.

  His tongue explored her mouth, his lips caressed hers. If he retreated, eased the pressure, she came after him, demanding more.

  Which he was happy to provide.

  Through the fabric of her dress, Brad cupped her breasts, pushing them high as he flicked his thumbs across her nipples. The hard buds rebounded, seeming to grow tighter under his touch. Definitely braless.

  Damn. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d always thought Jenny cute in a girl-next-door sort of way, though she’d been quiet and shy. But after her tongue-lashing at his non-wedding, she’d gone from girl-next-door to the sexy-as-hell inspiration for nightly wet dreams.

  Then tonight, he…he…

  He’d wanted to teach her a lesson, get back at her for the things she’d said. But what the hell…she’d been right about him. Every fucking accusation she’d thrown his way had been true.

  He couldn’t deny that, not anymore than he could deny his hard-on, the way it strained against his pirate pants. Or her breasts—the way they strained against his hands.

  Swearing, he released her and looked down. Her breathing was as unsteady as his own.

  Seizing her by the waist, Brad returned for more, kissing her like a man dying of thirst. And she was his oasis. Her tongue met his, dueled within his mouth, then hers. She pressed her body along his, arched her back, trying to reach higher and he held her close and plundered her mouth with everything he had.

  Gasping, she broke away. “How many kisses was that?”

  “Lost count. Start over at one?”

  She didn’t answer, just dug her nails into his upper arms and plastered her mouth to his. By God, he wanted to run his tongue along every crevice of her body. Eat her, explore her, savor every second he had with her.

  Wait a minute. He wasn’t necessarily supposed to be enjoying this—it was a way to settle the score, pay the haughty firecracker back for telling him off and royally chewing his ass.

  Who said he couldn’t he enjoy it? Because once his costume came off, he was going to be hard pressed to score another round.