write without fear ;

❝ love and regret ❞

Melvina watched him, wondering what was going on behind those pensive eyes. She felt for him, knowing that his entire world had been turned upside down. And to think, it all started with a jar of pickles.

It was a bit of a nightmare when Hannah and Sally arrived. Hannah took a moment to survey the scene before she left the carriage. "Fucking French," she muttered. Of course it would be the French, led by the French corsair Guy Édouard. He was slowly gaining a reputation for ruthlessness. In actuality, he was a self-important blowhard who thought he could claim Nassau for the French.

Cress was baffled. This entire situation made little sense to him, and he had no idea who the cruel bastard was. He turned to Hannah with wide, questioning eyes. "You know this man?"

Hannah's lip curled ever so slightly in derision as she nodded in Cress's direction. "Indeed. Allow me to introduce Guy Édouard, lately of Saint-Domingue in Hispaniola. I believe the French refer to him as a corsair, a privateer. He doesn't quite understand how things are run here in Nassau."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you what it represented. I could have let you think it was from my misspent youth. But no, I had to open my trap. I know I'm a bit ridiculous. But I have a big heart, and I'm a fucking good copper." She was only teasing him, and it felt good to share a giggle with him.

He was watching her with a smile, his face more relaxed than she had probably ever seen it. "I love it, though," he said, gaze falling to her tattoo for a moment. "And as far as sleep goes, nothing bothers me. You're just fine, love. I could sleep like a wee bairn in the middle of a hurricane, so it's whatever you need. Telly or no telly, it's fine."

Davina leaned back against Daniel, her hands coming to rest on his as he held her. "So am I, Weeg. More glad and happy than you could know."

There was no way Hannah was going to cower at home like a meek little woman while her man put himself in danger. He was gone before she was up and dressed, but Sally had waited for her, and filled her in on the details.

The only law and order Nassau had, curtesy of the Great Henry Jennings from the Flying Gang, was the right to protect oneself and their belongings, and not to outright commit murder without due reason. They had run off Bahamian government's representatives quite some time ago. And moreover, women were entitled to respect and equality while residing (or working in brothels) in Nassau. That was Cresswell's biggest worry at the moment.

It was a bit of a nightmare when Hannah and Sally arrived. Hannah took a moment to survey the scene before she left the carriage. "Fucking French," she muttered. Of course it would be the French, led by the French corsair Guy Édouard. He was slowly gaining a reputation for ruthlessness. In actuality, he was a self-important blowhard who thought he could claim Nassau for the French.

Davina curled into him, long legs stretched out against his. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she nuzzled against his shoulder. "You know Weeg, it must be said that you have incredible stamina for someone who hasn't had sex in over a decade."

A soft laugh tumbled from his lips at her comment about his stamina. She was witty and sharp, even after such an exhausting night. He wasn't quite so ready for an intellectual chatter as she was, apparently.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you what it represented. I could have let you think it was from my misspent youth. But no, I had to open my trap. I know I'm a bit ridiculous. But I have a big heart, and I'm a fucking good copper." She was only teasing him, and it felt good to share a giggle with him.

It took a few moments for Hannah's eyes to clear enough to give a coherent response. Her body was still quivering from the powerful orgasms he'd given her.

His face fell the moment Sally began talking. Immediately, he turned to cast a glance back up the staircase. "Right, fuck, okay. Come inside for a minute, please. If there's something going on down at the Pearl, I'd much rather you were safe here."

There was no way Hannah was going to cower at home like a meek little woman while her man put himself in danger. He was gone before she was up and dressed, but Sally had waited for her, and filled her in on the details.

'I want to be closer.' Those were some of the sweetest words Davina had ever heard. She moved with him, then settled back into their rhythm. It felt like every moment, every bit of her life had been leading her here, to this man. To Daniel.

"Neither am I," he groaned, a hand brushing along her back as he drew her up right against him. It was all just too much, and suddenly he was crying out as he found his peak. Thankfully, the rush of heat she felt was enough to have her following close behind, her orgasm tearing a hoarse cry from her throat.

Davina curled into him, long legs stretched out against his. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she nuzzled against his shoulder. "You know Weeg, it must be said that you have incredible stamina for someone who hasn't had sex in over a decade."

With a small cry, her hips arched into his hand and her own hand clenched his free one. Her mind almost floated away with the pleasure he was bringing her with his lips and tongue. “Pretty words from the pirate king,” she muttered, trying to hold onto some semblance of calm.

There was something to be said for the intimacy in this act. Her innermost muscles were hugging his finger, convulsing around him, and he marveled at the sensation as his eyes rose to her face. This would always be favorite, even more than the act of sex itself. He continued his kisses, although they slowly grew lazier and gentler. Running his tongue along her heated flesh, he hummed in satisfaction and tenderly withdrew his hand.

It took a few moments for Hannah's eyes to clear enough to give a coherent response. Her body was still quivering from the powerful orgasms he'd given her.

Davina leaned into his hands, her knees gripping his hips as she rocked against him. “What do I want? Just this… you touching me, exploring my skin. You have the most beautiful hands, and all I need is for you to have them on me. I know that sounds simple, but just touch me. Kiss me. Cherish me.”

Daniel was easy. He let her do as she wanted, going at her own pace, and quite a sound fell from his lips when she began to snap her hips and speed up her movements. His hands continued their exploration, fingers cupping her breasts, back, shoulders, and hips. His free hand eventually cupped her neck, drawing her gaze down to meet his. He took her words to heart, knowing that she absolutely meant them. He wanted nothing more than to cherish her, now and every other day she would let him have with her.

'I want to be closer.' Those were some of the sweetest words Davina had ever heard. She moved with him, then settled back into their rhythm. It felt like every moment, every bit of her life had been leading her here, to this man. To Daniel.

If it truly was an invitation, it was one Kate wasn't going to turn down. She drew her feet up under her and scooted closer to Malcolm, gently curling into him, whilst trying to avoid aggravating his bruises. She held the bowl of pickle spiced popcorn between them to share, as she rested her head against his chest.

When she curled close, he draped the blanket over her legs and finally wound his arm around her shoulders. He kept her tucked close as they watched their film together, enjoying the peace of the evening. She wasn't wrong about their snacks, either. The pickle popcorn was absolutely fantastic. He could see why everyone was so obsessed the seasoning at the moment.

Despite how good the movie was, Kate found her eyes closing, feeling safe and warm curled up next to Malcolm. It was a tangible proof of her trust in him, that she would allow herself to be vulnerable enough to sleep.

It felt almost normal, although it was anything but. Kate decided she wouldn't overthink. She'd take each moment as it came, treat it like the gift it was. She put the bowls on the table in front of the sofa, then settled next to him, close enough to share the blanket if she wanted.

"Yeah, my taste isnae too bad," he teased softly. "And that popcorn sounds delicious, actually. I'd love tae try some."

If it truly was an invitation, it was one Kate wasn't going to turn down. She drew her feet up under her and scooted closer to Malcolm, gently curling into him, whilst trying to avoid aggravating his bruises. She held the bowl of pickle spiced popcorn between them to share, as she rested her head against his chest.

Kate leaned into his touch for just a moment before moving to make some popcorn. Yes, she'd make some with cayenne and sugar, but she was also going to save some out for her latest obsession - spicy dill pickle. She'd picked up the perfect popcorn seasoning whilst shopping, and she couldn't wait to introduce Malcolm to it.

When she returned to the living room, he gave her a soft smile and drew the blanket down over his lap, leaving room for her as well. Perhaps that was a bit presumptuous, but he didn't want to seem rude by completely hogging it either. Either way, today felt like a bit of change for them. They had gone from arguing earlier, not out of anger or spite, but heartache, to her rubbing arnica gel into his bruises. Now they were here, and his chest ached.

It felt almost normal, although it was anything but. Kate decided she wouldn't overthink. She'd take each moment as it came, treat it like the gift it was. She put the bowls on the table in front of the sofa, then settled next to him, close enough to share the blanket if she wanted.

"Malcolm Tucker, if you say you're sorry one more time, I'll add to the bruise count. It was stupid and brave, and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. I am upset. But it's not just at you. You were doing as you always do, ride in on your black horse and try to do the right thing. Someone is trying to ruin me. I don't take that lightly. We're going to have a fight on our hands, and I need you fighting fit. I will not let my life's work be taken from me."

His eyebrows rose at the sudden sassy comment, but then he chuckled. "Yer think yer funny, hen. Since when do ye think I have the fuckin' time tae watch films and munch on popcorn, eh? There was no point in having it in the pantry."

Kate leaned into his touch for just a moment before moving to make some popcorn. Yes, she'd make some with cayenne and sugar, but she was also going to save some out for her latest obsession - spicy dill pickle. She'd picked up the perfect popcorn seasoning whilst shopping, and she couldn't wait to introduce Malcolm to it.

It did hurt her, to be honest, seeing those bruises. He'd gotten them because of her. It was a confusing mix of feelings - guilt, pain, anger, even a touch of pure rage. She didn't know where to put all those emotions, so she stuffed them down like she always did.

He'd be lying if he said having her hands on him again wasn't something monumentally wonderworking. It softened him beyond belief. He kept silent for as long as he could, his gaze resting subtly on her face, and when she tenderly asked him to turn around for her, he did so. He braced himself, shifting on the sofa, and sighed.

"Malcolm Tucker, if you say you're sorry one more time, I'll add to the bruise count. It was stupid and brave, and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know. I am upset. But it's not just at you. You were doing as you always do, ride in on your black horse and try to do the right thing. Someone is trying to ruin me. I don't take that lightly. We're going to have a fight on our hands, and I need you fighting fit. I will not let my life's work be taken from me."

Once they finished eating, Kate sent Malcolm off to the den while she cleaned the kitchen. She took her time, washing dishes by hand, drying them and putting them away. The kitchen was pristine when she was done.

He sputtered in response, coming nose to nose with her as turned his head to look at her in pure, unfiltered shock. Shifting to sit up, he made a rather bemused noise in his throat. "Ye've gotta be kidding me, right? Ye dinnae need tae do all this, Kate. I mean, I know I was joking about it earlier, but I'm not actually an invalid."

It did hurt her, to be honest, seeing those bruises. He'd gotten them because of her. It was a confusing mix of feelings - guilt, pain, anger, even a touch of pure rage. She didn't know where to put all those emotions, so she stuffed them down like she always did.

Kate had to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. "We've been back in touch for one fucking day, and we've had more drama than a telenovela. By the way, get over yourself. You don't have to be sorry for anything, and you don't have to say a word. But if we're going to be living together, even for a short time, I refuse to allow things we should have said years ago fester and blow up. Maybe I've made things awkward as fuck, or maybe, just maybe, I released the tension we've been holding on to years. Now, dinner's getting cold."

He didn't have the words to give her, so he silently began eating again. The meal, as he'd already said, was positively delicious. He enjoyed it, along with the wine, and for the first time in ages, he didn't even touch his mobile or check his text messages. Life could seriously fuck off for a while. She wasn't wrong, either. Far too much had happened in the span of an entire day. It was absolutely fucking ludicrous.

Once they finished eating, Kate sent Malcolm off to the den while she cleaned the kitchen. She took her time, washing dishes by hand, drying them and putting them away. The kitchen was pristine when she was done.