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Some evenings, Edward had to bunk before twilight – much to his displeasure – for an early trick at the helm the next day. It wasn’t so much the loss of sleep that bothered him; years of service on ships had made him capable of functioning quite well even with only three hours of shuteye. The rhythm he was used to back in Bristol changed after he joined the Privateers, as it came with the territory, and as time passed by he had become somewhat of a night owl – which only helped his endurance. Or annoyed him, as it were…
With feet tucked under herself, she sat at his study and read quietly by candle light, the hour still too young to turn in. Given Edward’s tendency to stir easily, she had planned to wait on him to fall asleep proper before she headed to bed, so as to not disturb the rest he so fought to achieve. Easier said than done, though, since for what seemed like hours after he had first settled, he only tossed and turned. Some of it was expected, especially from a fidgety sleeper, but now it was obvious he was struggling to go under.
Her eyes looked up over the top of the book when he rose with an annoyed sigh and followed him as he lit the lights back up around the cabin. Then, without so much as a word, Edward dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not bloody tired. I just need the wakefulness to wear off.”
She shrugged and went back to the story. The Rebel’s Promise, a risqué romance novel bought on a whim of curiosity. It wasn’t what she would’ve normally picked and didn’t expect much, but given the other choices offered by Edward’s library, anything else would do. Surprisingly however, the tale was incredibly engaging, and soon, she found herself invested in the life of the fictional characters.
The moment she had waited for arrived. Charles finally confessed his ardent passion for Sarah as the cold Highland wind whipped briskly around them. They went through a lot of turmoil, but in the end, he saw through the machinations and two-faced fables of his true love’s dastardly step-sister, Elizabeth. After a heartfelt exchange, he leaned in for the first kiss, and their lips met with years of pent up longing…and the scene was absolutely anti-climactic thanks to the constant creaks of the floorboards every time Edward had shifted his weight.
With a muffled curse, she heard him shuffle around slightly before he came to settle again. The previous sounds of physical exertion continued for short while longer, until another string of expletives broke her concentration.
“Sit on me.”
“I’m not quite in the mood tonight, Edward.”
“Sit on my back.” There was a definite annoyed undertone to his voice. “It’s too easy as is. I don’t fancy doing this for hours to wet my brows.”
At that, she finally looked at him. He was right. The only indication he had been active at all was a slight flush across his cheeks. Nothing else, not even a drop of sweat. Surely it had to be a jest, but the look on his face was entirely serious and entirely frustrated, so she complied and padded over.
Sit on him, he had said. Should’ve been an easy task, except she had no idea how best to do so. Should she ride him as men would ride a horse and straddle him with both legs? Or perhaps sidesaddle?
“How would this be more comfortable for you?”
“Not aiming so high as that, love.” Edward peered over his shoulder with a look of impatience. “I’m not bothered, just plonk your arse down already.”
When he put it like that, what else could she have done? After a quick hike to the hem of her shift, she pretended he was a bench and sat down. The first few dips were the hardest until she had found how to balance with his muscles shifting under her. Once accustomed to the sensation, she began to grow bored with nothing to do except act like dead weight on top of him.
The only break came when he decided to flex his tongue with smart comments over the quick retrieval of her book.
“You still draw breath, I see.” She shot back after he had finished whinging about the interruption.
“Aye, enough to curse your constant need of entertainment with.”
With a roll to her eyes she closed the novel and gave his arse a firm smack with it, which elicited an almost scandalized yelp from him.“Heave ho, mate!”
“Oi!”
“Oh, hush. You can gripe as much as you fancy later. We must get you worn out, first.”
This time around, his repetitions had begun to tax him. Sooner than she would have expected, – but given how furiously he had worked, it was not a surprise – Edward had stopped and unceremoniously sent her toppling to the floor.
“Oi!”
“Gripe as much as you fancy later, love. I’m going to bed.”