"Contradictions 8 - Claimed" Part 5
Aug. 29th, 2005 10:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronica_richThis is a continuation of a fic. See Part 1 for disclaimers, description, etc.
Will set his work down behind him and leaned forward, hands on the tops of his thighs. "Oh, you pretty much smashed the simple notion of ‘best friends’ all to hell," he admitted. Searching Jack’s eyes, he wondered when this man had gone from being an oddity, a long-ago friend and comrade of his long-lost father, and a collection of layers of material and baubles to … well, being the most important person in Will’s daily life.
“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.” To his credit, Jack’s gaze didn’t waver or flinch, though Will could see the beginnings of a frown at the corners of his eyes.
“It is. Something else, too, though.”
Do this …
Shifting his weight from the bench to sit on the edge of the bed, Will leaned into Jack’s personal space. Before he could lose his gumption, he tilted his head and brushed his lips to the other man’s. A year ago, he would’ve never considered seriously acting on this sort of deeply hidden desire; today, he kissed the corner of Jack’s mouth, waiting for a response … and wondering how long it should take. I don’t think I misjudged – oh Jesus in heaven, what if I’m wrong-
But now he felt Jack’s mouth move, and his moustache tickled the underside of Will’s nostrils, and that nearly sent the smith backwards out of reflex. He’d never steeled himself for the intrusive reminder of another man’s whiskers on his, and he worried he hadn’t given sufficient thought to all this – that there would be someone else shaving in the mirror, and the body across from his would be as full of hard angles as his own, lacking in the feminine softness and malleability he’d found in the exactly two women he’d shared bodily fluids and a bed with so briefly.
And then that kiss. Jack knew how to kiss, how to apply just the right pressure to raise Will’s pulse, slipping his tongue between Will’s lips and lapping at the roof of his mouth with the tip of that tongue. He groaned, his skin and scalp hot and anxious, and slid his tongue beneath Jack’s. The kiss grew intense, heated, and Will moved with it, no longer any doubt in his body even if a little still lingered in his mind. He moved to his knees at Jack’s silent urging, until they faced one another in the middle of the pallet, chest to chest.
Jack drew out of a kiss and glanced up through thick, dark eyelashes. It was coy and sexy, and at the moment Will blanked on any other set of eyes he’d ever looked into this closely. He reached up, nearly touching the hair framing Will’s face with both hands, fingers hovering on the wisps an inch from his skin. “You are lovely,” Jack said simply. “Such … eyes.”
“They work fairly well most of the time, yes.” Uncomfortable with the compliment, he uttered the first thing he could think. I’ve been spending too much time around Jack. I’ve contracted whatever’s made his brain strange.
The pirate grinned. “I hope so.” They both chuckled, and Will felt strangely warm and comforted. The nervousness and butterflies he’d expected to feel in the pit of his stomach were there, of course, but calmer and less distracting than he expected.
He didn’t have the heart to break the silence Jack imposed, punctuated only by their rapid breathing. Jack reached back, stroking Will’s hair, threading his fingers through the mostly-dry waves and drawing back toward his face to cup his jaw on either side. Will waited as Jack reached up and brushed some hair off his temple, running his thumb over the eyebrow and down over his closed eyelid.
Those hands disappeared, and Will blinked his eyes open, dropping them to watch the fingers working at the buttons of his thin shirt. Jack was already half-naked, tattoos and scars on full display with subtly muscled arms and a tight, flat abdomen. His shoulders were a little narrower than Will’s – everything about Jack’s frame was a little smaller than his own – and he suddenly felt possessive of the pirate. He swooped in to kiss Jack, hard and insistent, and felt those hands curl into his shirt, yanking him forward.
“You sure this ‘s what you want?” Jack was growling into his lips. “I’m a bit bossy, and I like me own way ‘tween th’ sheets.”
“Think I can handle you.” Pushing him off-balance, Will rolled Jack into the pillow, balanced above him. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge, you know.”
He sat back on his heels, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders and working at the bottom buttons Jack had missed. Jack pushed himself to his elbows, eyes black and focused, watching hungrily – now that made Will nervous. He fumbled on the last couple of buttons, trying a few times before getting them pushed through the holes, and hurriedly shook the shirt back off his arms. Before he could get the material past his hands, however, Jack was sitting up, arms around him and fingers gripping his tangled wrists.
“Here.” Deep, dark brown eyes lured him closer, allowing Jack to tug the shirt from his wrists and pull him to the bed. Will automatically reached for him and balanced himself as Jack guided both of them to the single pillow, on their sides facing each other. “Better,” he judged with a nod, not taking his eyes from Will’s.
Their kiss was slow and exploratory, and Jack took his time, licking inside the circumference of Will’s lips and along his teeth until the smith writhed in frustration. His body twitched, warm and painfully aroused – eyes closed, he groaned around Jack’s tongue when he felt a hand press between his thighs. When, two minutes later, the bare hand curled around his hard, neglected prick, Will’s eyes opened wide in shock.
“It’s all right,” Jack hummed, fist dragging from tip to root and back up. “Will …”
He held Jack’s gaze, feeling his hips begin to move, rock awkwardly against those rough, beringed fingers. He reached down and covered the back of the hand with his own. “Your rings.” His whisper broke, and he licked his lips, trying again. “Take them off.”
“Why?”
“Jack.” He delivered the word in a soft plea, curling his fingers around Jack’s hand, dragging it back up between them. Without permission, he began working the one from Jack’s pinky up over the knuckle. That was the milky pearl quartz; he moved next to the forefinger, adorned with a deep ruby. He was surprised he’d stared enough at those hands to memorize them, but more taken aback by Jack’s acquiescence – he let Will strip his fingers without protest, without complaint, and without taking his eyes from Will’s face.
He reached behind him, turning away for a few seconds to spill the rings on the end of the bench. When he rolled back to face Jack, the man caught him between the legs and started stroking again, this time with only a bare, calloused palm. Will nearly cried with sensation – he’d been doing this too much by himself, and the realization of someone else willing to touch him like this nearly crossed his eyes, even closed. Jack eased him to his back, and Will lifted his hips when the man scooted down to shove his breeches down long legs and past his ankles.
He did hesitate when Jack pushed at his knees, propping himself on his elbows. Jack wasn’t rough, but he was insistent, and Will finally let his legs be pushed open, exposing him terribly, like … like a woman. “This feels-“ he began, voice shaky and uncertain.
“I’m not gon’ hurt you, love.” It was amazing what one word could do; Will’s head fell back and he closed his eyes, surrendering his body. I can’t watch … I’ll simply feel, just feel, his hands on me …
“Never hurt you.” Jack was still murmuring encouragement, thumbs beneath Will’s bollocks, nearly driving him mad. His breathing hitched. “Will, me love – you are perfect like this.”
Something wet and sudden enveloped his cock, and at the first suck, he figured out what it was. The butterflies in his stomach shot straight deep into the pit of his abdomen, fluttering harder. “Jack! Wh-what?” But he kept his eyes shut.
Apparently Jack didn’t like that. After only a moment, he withdrew his mouth and assumed a tone of quiet command. “William, look at me.” Head spinning, elbows quivering, Will kept his head back. “Look at me, Will. Look.”
When nothing happened, he obeyed, lifting his head and managing to open his eyes. Jack was balanced on the heels of his hands on the pallet, bracketing Will’s waist. Long, uneven ebony hair fell over his shoulders, some of the ends brushing Will’s abdomen and the stretch of skin from his navel to his rod. Its alert, lopsided bouncy presence got his attention in a way it never had before – thick and swollen and flushed … and wet. Glistening in the lamplight with Jack’s saliva. He felt what little blood remained north of his stomach rush to his cheeks, and blinked, meeting Jack’s eyes with difficulty.
“You noticed.” A wicked, dirty grin, and Jack lowered his head. Will watched as the upper lip dressed in thick moustache curved over the top of his cock and eased down, swallowing, swallowing almost to the very root. Jack’s eyes were still on his, searching and coaxing, as Will felt fingers slide beneath his balls and dip down along the smooth, tender curve of skin behind them. Jack drew off, leaving his tongue out, swirling it around the tip of Will’s prick like sucking on a candy.
My God, I never fantasized this … did I? Stunned, Will pushed higher, weight on the heels of his hands, voluntarily opening his knees wider as he watched voraciously. A sudden need to touch, to dig in, made him reach forward and plunge fingers into Jack’s hair. For a moment, he let them rest on the back of his head, following the motion of Jack’s mouth and body, and he felt his own hips trying to respond, to thrust and plunge into that damp heat. Then, he grasped a handful of Jack’s hair, pulling the head back. “Please – up here, closer,” he begged, fixing the man with his most intense stare.
When Jack straightened on his knees, Will could finally see he’d shucked his own breeches, as well. He dropped his eyes to the tight little navel and slightly-flared hips, surprised by the few white hairs he noticed amid bristly black curls framing the taut, sweet curve of Jack’s penis. He had no time to look his fill before the man was on him, pushing him back, in his arms at last.
Skin to skin, Will barely noticed the nuances of the body nestled against his as Jack nipped at his lower lip and down his chin into his throat. Jack mouthed his Adam’s apple, and Will gripped his shoulders, arching off the bed. “So very … fucking gorgeous,” Jack growled, leaning forward on his elbows again, looking Will straight in the eye and butting the tip of his nose with his own. “Your eyes …”
This time, Will didn’t have the energy or inclination to joke. “What?” he asked softly. He really wanted to know whey they kept catching Sparrow’s attention.
“Your eyes are beautiful.”
He wrapped his arms around Jack, curled his ankles around the back of his calves, desperate to hold the man. “You … think that?” Jack nodded, shifting his hips side to side a few times, until he moved them in a circle and Will felt their stiff rods rubbing together. “Since when?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Jack shook his head when Will started to protest, silencing him with a forceful kiss. “Said I’d tell ye, didn’t I?” he whispered into those parted lips. “Will, right now, all I wan’ do is feel you, fuck you. That all right with you, pet?” He shifted again, a slow drag of his hips, and Will’s eyes were blown wide. “Ah, there ‘tis.”
They moved awkwardly at first, and Jack finally paused, rolling to his side and pulling Will along. Hand on his smith’s hip, and Will’s leg thrown over his, the pirate dug his fingers into the flesh and pulled, helping Will along until the younger man quickly caught on and took over the thrusting. He thrilled at the way Jack’s eyes rolled back on one particular stroke, the way his lashes fluttered, gasping when Jack pressed closer, bringing their chests in contact. “Steady,” he whispered, eyes half-closed. “’S like sailin’ a ship, Will … got t’ move with it, let your rudder take the lead sometimes.”
“That doesn’t even make sense …” Will felt the waves of blood and heat roiling, cresting along his limbs to pool low in the center of his body. “Jaaaaack.” He kept repeating the name, low and fevered, and he felt Jack hold him closer, rocking with him as he rapidly sought relief, stemming the flow of words with lips and moustache and tongue.
Will’s entire body twitched and seized as he felt every bit of tension spurt from his cock, lubricating the rub with Jack’s. He rocked, still moving, when Jack began to climax. Not too surprisingly, Jack groaned loudly, filling Will’s ears and senses with the most delicious naughty urges, and the younger man held him firmly. “Fuck me, Jack,” he gasped into his captain’s mouth. “Do me rotten.”
Jack’s hand slid around to cup a buttock, and Will arched, accommodating him, watching the man’s expressions as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, then gasped and cried out, pronouncing his lovely cheekbones and brow. He swallowed the rest of Jack’s noises with a kiss, open-mouthed and wet. “Come, Jack,” he whispered.
But the pirate, it seemed, was already there. His only noise was a raw, heavy panting, much like Will’s, as he sighed repeatedly, rapidly, slumping into the younger man’s hold. Will wasn’t much more stable, his leg muscles strained and his chest pounding like waves from the storm earlier that day. Jack’s forehead slid forward to rest on the bridge of Will’s nose; his hand, higher to find the small of Will’s back and press there. “I can’t believe I jus’ did that,” he breathed, low enough that had anyone else been around, only Will would’ve heard him.
“Which part?” His physical needs quenched, Will was hesitant to expect much beyond sex. His brain, logical and always looking for the next problem to solve, was scrambling to explain away what had just happened and to look Jack in the eye as if it never had – if necessary.
When Jack pulled back enough to roll his face up, meeting Will’s eyes, the smith’s heart skipped. That was not the expression of a man prepared to tell someone to go lose themselves on an island somewhere, or trying to cook up some sort of defense. Jack’s dark, thick eyes were weighty and liquid with a mixture of worry and satisfaction, and Will’s senses drowned.
And then he said the oddest thing, strange even for Jack: “Bill’s gon’ kill me.”
On to Part 6 ...
Will set his work down behind him and leaned forward, hands on the tops of his thighs. "Oh, you pretty much smashed the simple notion of ‘best friends’ all to hell," he admitted. Searching Jack’s eyes, he wondered when this man had gone from being an oddity, a long-ago friend and comrade of his long-lost father, and a collection of layers of material and baubles to … well, being the most important person in Will’s daily life.
“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.” To his credit, Jack’s gaze didn’t waver or flinch, though Will could see the beginnings of a frown at the corners of his eyes.
“It is. Something else, too, though.”
Do this …
Shifting his weight from the bench to sit on the edge of the bed, Will leaned into Jack’s personal space. Before he could lose his gumption, he tilted his head and brushed his lips to the other man’s. A year ago, he would’ve never considered seriously acting on this sort of deeply hidden desire; today, he kissed the corner of Jack’s mouth, waiting for a response … and wondering how long it should take. I don’t think I misjudged – oh Jesus in heaven, what if I’m wrong-
But now he felt Jack’s mouth move, and his moustache tickled the underside of Will’s nostrils, and that nearly sent the smith backwards out of reflex. He’d never steeled himself for the intrusive reminder of another man’s whiskers on his, and he worried he hadn’t given sufficient thought to all this – that there would be someone else shaving in the mirror, and the body across from his would be as full of hard angles as his own, lacking in the feminine softness and malleability he’d found in the exactly two women he’d shared bodily fluids and a bed with so briefly.
And then that kiss. Jack knew how to kiss, how to apply just the right pressure to raise Will’s pulse, slipping his tongue between Will’s lips and lapping at the roof of his mouth with the tip of that tongue. He groaned, his skin and scalp hot and anxious, and slid his tongue beneath Jack’s. The kiss grew intense, heated, and Will moved with it, no longer any doubt in his body even if a little still lingered in his mind. He moved to his knees at Jack’s silent urging, until they faced one another in the middle of the pallet, chest to chest.
Jack drew out of a kiss and glanced up through thick, dark eyelashes. It was coy and sexy, and at the moment Will blanked on any other set of eyes he’d ever looked into this closely. He reached up, nearly touching the hair framing Will’s face with both hands, fingers hovering on the wisps an inch from his skin. “You are lovely,” Jack said simply. “Such … eyes.”
“They work fairly well most of the time, yes.” Uncomfortable with the compliment, he uttered the first thing he could think. I’ve been spending too much time around Jack. I’ve contracted whatever’s made his brain strange.
The pirate grinned. “I hope so.” They both chuckled, and Will felt strangely warm and comforted. The nervousness and butterflies he’d expected to feel in the pit of his stomach were there, of course, but calmer and less distracting than he expected.
He didn’t have the heart to break the silence Jack imposed, punctuated only by their rapid breathing. Jack reached back, stroking Will’s hair, threading his fingers through the mostly-dry waves and drawing back toward his face to cup his jaw on either side. Will waited as Jack reached up and brushed some hair off his temple, running his thumb over the eyebrow and down over his closed eyelid.
Those hands disappeared, and Will blinked his eyes open, dropping them to watch the fingers working at the buttons of his thin shirt. Jack was already half-naked, tattoos and scars on full display with subtly muscled arms and a tight, flat abdomen. His shoulders were a little narrower than Will’s – everything about Jack’s frame was a little smaller than his own – and he suddenly felt possessive of the pirate. He swooped in to kiss Jack, hard and insistent, and felt those hands curl into his shirt, yanking him forward.
“You sure this ‘s what you want?” Jack was growling into his lips. “I’m a bit bossy, and I like me own way ‘tween th’ sheets.”
“Think I can handle you.” Pushing him off-balance, Will rolled Jack into the pillow, balanced above him. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge, you know.”
He sat back on his heels, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders and working at the bottom buttons Jack had missed. Jack pushed himself to his elbows, eyes black and focused, watching hungrily – now that made Will nervous. He fumbled on the last couple of buttons, trying a few times before getting them pushed through the holes, and hurriedly shook the shirt back off his arms. Before he could get the material past his hands, however, Jack was sitting up, arms around him and fingers gripping his tangled wrists.
“Here.” Deep, dark brown eyes lured him closer, allowing Jack to tug the shirt from his wrists and pull him to the bed. Will automatically reached for him and balanced himself as Jack guided both of them to the single pillow, on their sides facing each other. “Better,” he judged with a nod, not taking his eyes from Will’s.
Their kiss was slow and exploratory, and Jack took his time, licking inside the circumference of Will’s lips and along his teeth until the smith writhed in frustration. His body twitched, warm and painfully aroused – eyes closed, he groaned around Jack’s tongue when he felt a hand press between his thighs. When, two minutes later, the bare hand curled around his hard, neglected prick, Will’s eyes opened wide in shock.
“It’s all right,” Jack hummed, fist dragging from tip to root and back up. “Will …”
He held Jack’s gaze, feeling his hips begin to move, rock awkwardly against those rough, beringed fingers. He reached down and covered the back of the hand with his own. “Your rings.” His whisper broke, and he licked his lips, trying again. “Take them off.”
“Why?”
“Jack.” He delivered the word in a soft plea, curling his fingers around Jack’s hand, dragging it back up between them. Without permission, he began working the one from Jack’s pinky up over the knuckle. That was the milky pearl quartz; he moved next to the forefinger, adorned with a deep ruby. He was surprised he’d stared enough at those hands to memorize them, but more taken aback by Jack’s acquiescence – he let Will strip his fingers without protest, without complaint, and without taking his eyes from Will’s face.
He reached behind him, turning away for a few seconds to spill the rings on the end of the bench. When he rolled back to face Jack, the man caught him between the legs and started stroking again, this time with only a bare, calloused palm. Will nearly cried with sensation – he’d been doing this too much by himself, and the realization of someone else willing to touch him like this nearly crossed his eyes, even closed. Jack eased him to his back, and Will lifted his hips when the man scooted down to shove his breeches down long legs and past his ankles.
He did hesitate when Jack pushed at his knees, propping himself on his elbows. Jack wasn’t rough, but he was insistent, and Will finally let his legs be pushed open, exposing him terribly, like … like a woman. “This feels-“ he began, voice shaky and uncertain.
“I’m not gon’ hurt you, love.” It was amazing what one word could do; Will’s head fell back and he closed his eyes, surrendering his body. I can’t watch … I’ll simply feel, just feel, his hands on me …
“Never hurt you.” Jack was still murmuring encouragement, thumbs beneath Will’s bollocks, nearly driving him mad. His breathing hitched. “Will, me love – you are perfect like this.”
Something wet and sudden enveloped his cock, and at the first suck, he figured out what it was. The butterflies in his stomach shot straight deep into the pit of his abdomen, fluttering harder. “Jack! Wh-what?” But he kept his eyes shut.
Apparently Jack didn’t like that. After only a moment, he withdrew his mouth and assumed a tone of quiet command. “William, look at me.” Head spinning, elbows quivering, Will kept his head back. “Look at me, Will. Look.”
When nothing happened, he obeyed, lifting his head and managing to open his eyes. Jack was balanced on the heels of his hands on the pallet, bracketing Will’s waist. Long, uneven ebony hair fell over his shoulders, some of the ends brushing Will’s abdomen and the stretch of skin from his navel to his rod. Its alert, lopsided bouncy presence got his attention in a way it never had before – thick and swollen and flushed … and wet. Glistening in the lamplight with Jack’s saliva. He felt what little blood remained north of his stomach rush to his cheeks, and blinked, meeting Jack’s eyes with difficulty.
“You noticed.” A wicked, dirty grin, and Jack lowered his head. Will watched as the upper lip dressed in thick moustache curved over the top of his cock and eased down, swallowing, swallowing almost to the very root. Jack’s eyes were still on his, searching and coaxing, as Will felt fingers slide beneath his balls and dip down along the smooth, tender curve of skin behind them. Jack drew off, leaving his tongue out, swirling it around the tip of Will’s prick like sucking on a candy.
My God, I never fantasized this … did I? Stunned, Will pushed higher, weight on the heels of his hands, voluntarily opening his knees wider as he watched voraciously. A sudden need to touch, to dig in, made him reach forward and plunge fingers into Jack’s hair. For a moment, he let them rest on the back of his head, following the motion of Jack’s mouth and body, and he felt his own hips trying to respond, to thrust and plunge into that damp heat. Then, he grasped a handful of Jack’s hair, pulling the head back. “Please – up here, closer,” he begged, fixing the man with his most intense stare.
When Jack straightened on his knees, Will could finally see he’d shucked his own breeches, as well. He dropped his eyes to the tight little navel and slightly-flared hips, surprised by the few white hairs he noticed amid bristly black curls framing the taut, sweet curve of Jack’s penis. He had no time to look his fill before the man was on him, pushing him back, in his arms at last.
Skin to skin, Will barely noticed the nuances of the body nestled against his as Jack nipped at his lower lip and down his chin into his throat. Jack mouthed his Adam’s apple, and Will gripped his shoulders, arching off the bed. “So very … fucking gorgeous,” Jack growled, leaning forward on his elbows again, looking Will straight in the eye and butting the tip of his nose with his own. “Your eyes …”
This time, Will didn’t have the energy or inclination to joke. “What?” he asked softly. He really wanted to know whey they kept catching Sparrow’s attention.
“Your eyes are beautiful.”
He wrapped his arms around Jack, curled his ankles around the back of his calves, desperate to hold the man. “You … think that?” Jack nodded, shifting his hips side to side a few times, until he moved them in a circle and Will felt their stiff rods rubbing together. “Since when?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Jack shook his head when Will started to protest, silencing him with a forceful kiss. “Said I’d tell ye, didn’t I?” he whispered into those parted lips. “Will, right now, all I wan’ do is feel you, fuck you. That all right with you, pet?” He shifted again, a slow drag of his hips, and Will’s eyes were blown wide. “Ah, there ‘tis.”
They moved awkwardly at first, and Jack finally paused, rolling to his side and pulling Will along. Hand on his smith’s hip, and Will’s leg thrown over his, the pirate dug his fingers into the flesh and pulled, helping Will along until the younger man quickly caught on and took over the thrusting. He thrilled at the way Jack’s eyes rolled back on one particular stroke, the way his lashes fluttered, gasping when Jack pressed closer, bringing their chests in contact. “Steady,” he whispered, eyes half-closed. “’S like sailin’ a ship, Will … got t’ move with it, let your rudder take the lead sometimes.”
“That doesn’t even make sense …” Will felt the waves of blood and heat roiling, cresting along his limbs to pool low in the center of his body. “Jaaaaack.” He kept repeating the name, low and fevered, and he felt Jack hold him closer, rocking with him as he rapidly sought relief, stemming the flow of words with lips and moustache and tongue.
Will’s entire body twitched and seized as he felt every bit of tension spurt from his cock, lubricating the rub with Jack’s. He rocked, still moving, when Jack began to climax. Not too surprisingly, Jack groaned loudly, filling Will’s ears and senses with the most delicious naughty urges, and the younger man held him firmly. “Fuck me, Jack,” he gasped into his captain’s mouth. “Do me rotten.”
Jack’s hand slid around to cup a buttock, and Will arched, accommodating him, watching the man’s expressions as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, then gasped and cried out, pronouncing his lovely cheekbones and brow. He swallowed the rest of Jack’s noises with a kiss, open-mouthed and wet. “Come, Jack,” he whispered.
But the pirate, it seemed, was already there. His only noise was a raw, heavy panting, much like Will’s, as he sighed repeatedly, rapidly, slumping into the younger man’s hold. Will wasn’t much more stable, his leg muscles strained and his chest pounding like waves from the storm earlier that day. Jack’s forehead slid forward to rest on the bridge of Will’s nose; his hand, higher to find the small of Will’s back and press there. “I can’t believe I jus’ did that,” he breathed, low enough that had anyone else been around, only Will would’ve heard him.
“Which part?” His physical needs quenched, Will was hesitant to expect much beyond sex. His brain, logical and always looking for the next problem to solve, was scrambling to explain away what had just happened and to look Jack in the eye as if it never had – if necessary.
When Jack pulled back enough to roll his face up, meeting Will’s eyes, the smith’s heart skipped. That was not the expression of a man prepared to tell someone to go lose themselves on an island somewhere, or trying to cook up some sort of defense. Jack’s dark, thick eyes were weighty and liquid with a mixture of worry and satisfaction, and Will’s senses drowned.
And then he said the oddest thing, strange even for Jack: “Bill’s gon’ kill me.”
On to Part 6 ...
