by Ellie Rowe
“Since you’re already here.” He reaches in front to slip his hands over my breasts, working the water and soap into a lather. I hiss as he finds my hard nipples and pinches down.
“You like that?” I can tell he’s smiling behind me, smug bastard, but it feels too good for me to care. He bites into my neck and I reach back to stroke his hair. One of his hands starts to trail downwards, past my abdomen, past my belly button, past my hip bones.
He takes one finger and slowly slides it between my lips. Even without the pouring water I was sopping wet. He notices.
“Maybe you don’t hate me so much after all.” I got a fistful of his hair and pulled it in response. He moans in pleasure and applies pressure to my clit, turning circles before adding two more fingers to the rhythm. My knees go weak and my head starts to swim from the steam and pent up frustration simmering below.
“I’ve got you.” He whispers and picks up his pace. I have to relinquish my control of his hair to slam my hands against the tile before I lose myself completely. With my hips hitched forward I can feel his hard cock slip between my legs. There’s no camera tricks here, it’s just as big as I thought it was.
He moans as I squeeze my thighs tight around his thickness, and dials up his speed and pressure. I reach behind me with one hand to sink my nails into his perfectly muscular ass, just to hear him groan again. My vision goes hazy and he picks me up and presses me against the tile for support.
His hand and fingers are crushed between the tile and my wetness but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. It’s done nothing to lessen his speed or intensity. I reach behind me to grab onto the base of him.
“Fuck Veronica.” He whispers and shivers against my touch. I somehow manage to get a grasp on him, even behind me. Told you I was bendy. But he grabs my wrist and presses it against the tile, pinning me under his strength.
“Ladies first.” He whispers in that sexy devilish way and I can feel his stubble at my neck as he bites down. He stops his circling to thrust two fingers inside me, sending me on my tiptoes to give him better access.
“Hank!” I groan as his thumb finds my clit again and I see fucking stars.
“Hold on baby.” He starts to gyrate his hips towards me, slipping himself in and out of my thighs as he pummels me from the front with his dexterous fingers. My legs are like jelly as the pressure builds and builds until I can’t take it any longer.
“Oh God. Oh god!” I scream as he finally lets me release. I clamp down on his dick and his fingers like it’s my lifeline. I feel faint and high as my legs completely give out under me and he wraps his muscular arm around me to keep from falling.
My eyes jolt open. I am dry. Well. Most of me is anyway. I’m dry and clothed and I’m in a bed. His bed. Oh, Christ Veronica did you just have a fucking wet dream? Like a goddamn pre-teen?!
Of course it was a dream, I curse to myself. Shower sex never goes that smoothly in real life. There’s always someone drowning under the showerhead, or you hit your face on the tile or slip and fall or lose a contact, it’s a mess! But that. Oh God that was amazing.
The way he’d just taken control and given me exactly what I needed. The way my legs had given way and he’d caught me with his arm around me— hold on. I look down to the covers. There really is an arm around me. Hank Wilder’s arm is around my middle and he’s passed out on the bed. Was it good for you? I scoff to myself.
So much for shifts. I should probably shout him awake and watch him fly out of bed but something about my fever dream is making me feel a little bit more friendly. Or maybe it was the stupidly adorable way his hair was all tousled against the pillow.
I suppose saying we should sleep in shifts was a little too harsh. The guy’s gotta sleep too. And if we’re going to make it out, we’ll both need our strength, right?
I snuggle in a little closer. I mean why not. I haven’t slept next to a man since that shit bag of an ex husband took off. And this feels…nice. I’ll give him hell for it in the morning.
I close my eyes and drift back to sleep, feeling oddly secure with his arm slung around me to protect my slumber. Though I’d never fucking tell him that.
Fourteen
Hank
“All right. Let’s see what this is about…”
I’m back up on the deck with Veronica. The kid on guard duty woke us up pretty early to drag us up here. The pirates are milling about, some of them eating – my food, by the way – some just lounging in the sun.
I steal a glance at Veronica. She’s being weirdly quiet for some reason. It’s not that I wish she’d lay into me again. It’s just concerning that we’ve been awake for half-an-hour and she hasn’t insulted me, yet.
Maybe she’s offended? Should I not have gotten into bed with her? I was just so damn tired and there was no sleeping in that script. She didn’t kick me out, so I thought maybe she was cool with it, or at least understood the reality of our circumstances.
Actually, I could swear she’d cuddled up against me in the night. Probably just something that happened in her sleep. Don’t read into it, Hank. You’ll get yourself excited, old boy. Facing pirates with a hard-on isn’t exactly gallant.
She’s still quiet, so I ask if she’s OK.
“Mm-hm,” she mutters. Then she actually gives me a smile. “We’re in this together, right?”
Will wonders never cease? “You’re damn right we are,” I tell her. Her sudden trust in me – whatever the reason – gives me a shit ton of confidence. I feel like I can take on the whole pirate crew if I have to.
Her trust also has some other unintended results and I have to kind of shift my hips to keep from showing, if you get drift. That’s not a gun in my pocket, you know what I mean?
I clear my throat. Fortunately, before Veronica notices my situation, the pirate captain in the green scarf pokes his head out of the bridge. “Hank Wilder! Come here, now!”
“Let’s go,” I say to Veronica. We take a step toward the bridge.
“No,” the captain barks. “Just you, Hank.”
I don’t like that. Can’t let Veronica see that it worries me, though. I put on a casual smile for her benefit. “Be right back,” I assure her.
When I get on the bridge, the captain hands me the radio. OK. What’s this about? Proof of life for whoever they’ve contacted with ransom demands? I briefly wonder what I’m worth. I made fifteen million my last picture. West Joliet made twenty-million for his last one, the bastard. I wonder if West Joliet would also get a higher ransom price than me?
Seriously, Hank? Put that fucker out of your head already!
The pirate captain slaps my shoulder to get my attention. He points at the radio.
I push the talk button. “Uhh. Hi, this is Hank. Who’s this?”
“Hank Wilder!” a man’s voice calls out from the other end. The line is static-y and his words come in and out.
“To whom am I speaking?” I ask, hoping my formality will keep things civil.
There’s more static. Then I make out, “—ouldn’t believe it when they told me who they’d taken hostage!”
I look at the captain. He seems proud of himself. Shit, I think this dude I’m talking to must be their boss. “These men work for you?”
“Nothing as formal as –” There’s more static. Then, “—great to hear your voice…!”
“Oh. Well, always nice to speak to a fan.” That’s it, Hank, play the game.
“A fan?” The guy sounds amused by that. “Sure, I guess…” There’s more damn static. Something’s going on here. I could swear this guy’s voice is familiar. Is he some sort of well-known terrorist? I don’t watch a ton of news, but maybe I’ve heard some recording of him somewhere?
Something else is nagging at me. He’s talking like we know each other. It’s not that unusual an experience for me. There’s a weird thing about being a celebrity that makes complete strangers act like they know you. After all, you’re in their homes, they know all about your life, they talk about you with t
heir friends. They fantasize about you. When I first became famous, the sense of ownership fans feel like they had over me was one of the hardest things to get used to.
What I’m saying is, it’s not odd for someone I’ve never met to act like we’re pals.
This guy feels different though.
Whatever. That’s a mystery for another day. If this guy really is in charge of the pirates, then maybe I can negotiate with him. “It’s nice that you know me. Since you seem so fond of me, maybe you could see it in your heart to tell your buddies here to let me and my friend go?”
There’s more static. I think he denies my request but I can’t be sure.
“Sorry, I didn’t get that. Come again?”
He says something else. It’s clearer this time, but I don’t hear it because something else catches my ears.
Some screams from belowdecks. Veronica. I steal a glance out at the deck where I left her just a minute ago. She’s not there.
Neither of some of the pirates I’d seen lounging around.
Those sons-of-bitches.
I drop the radio, shove past the captain and hoof it to the cabins.
“Veronica!” I slam open the door to our cabin, but she’s not there.
I hear scuffling from down the hall. Another shout of protest. I locate the room and try to open the door. Locked. I haul back and kick with all my might at the door, just beside the handle. This time, the cabin door smashes in. Round two to me, boat.
In the cramped room, four of the pirates crowd around Veronica, trying to lay their hands on her. She’s doing a good job resisting them, but it’s four against one.
Against two, now.
As I burst in, all four of them turn to look at me. Before they can say a word, I throw a first into one pirate’s face. He hits the floor as I turn and grab another one. This guy I smash against a wall and then pound my knee into his stomach. All the air leaves his body and he slips to his knees. I slam his head back against the wall, denting it and dropping him.
Oof! The third pirate hurls himself on top of me. His hands claw at my face, slip down to my neck. I hurl an elbow backwards once, twice. He lets go. I spin to face him, but I’m not quick enough. He gets in a good punch across my cheek. It stings pretty good. Thing is, actors miss in fight scenes by accident all the time. I know how to take a punch.
He doesn’t. My uppercut lifts him a few inches off the ground and spins his eyes around in his head. He crumbles at my feet.
I look all around for the fourth guy. Where’d he go?
“Watch out!” Veronica shouts.
I side-step just in time to avoid the hunting knife that swipes through the air where I was just standing!
Scar. He wields the knife confidently. Holy shit, he looks menacing. I take the initiative and move at him. The knife flashes out at me quickly. Luckily, all it does is rip my shirt. It backs me up a few steps.
Then he attacks. I grab his wrists and we struggle. Fuck, he’s strong. He pins me against the wall and my arms start to shake as his knife gets closer and closer to impaling me. I try to knee him or kick him or something, but we’re too close for me to get any leverage. The knife point gets dangerously close.
I hear Veronica grunt. She smacks him on the back over and over with her fricking shoe. It doesn’t hurt him, but it does piss him off.
Scar shoves me hard against the wall again – I hit my head and see stars for a second – then spins on Veronica. Before I can move, he takes a swipe at her.
She blocks the knife away with her shoe. It stuns her just as much as it stuns Scar. And me.
I recover first. With a shout, I run at Scar, grab his knife hand and smash it against a wall. He lets the knife drop. I give him as solid a right hook as I’ve ever laid on someone. It rings his bell pretty good. His legs turn to spaghetti and he slides to the floor.
I hear a small sob behind me.
Veronica! There’s shock on her face and she’s fighting back tears. She breathes heavily. Hell, we both do. “You OK? Veronica. Are you OK?” I do a quick scan. She seems unharmed. I was just in time.
I take her face in my hand. “Hey,” I say calmingly. “Hey, it’s OK. I’m here.”
Her eyes meet mine and she starts to come back to herself. “I’m all right,” she says. “Thanks to you.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself.”
She looks at unconscious pirates that litter the floor. “Holy crap,” she says, sniffling and wiping her nose.
“Tell me about,” I agree. “Who says this ain’t the movies?”
Veronica actually grins at me.
Then there’s shouting up above.
“C’mon,” I say.
I take her hand and we haul ass out of there.
Fifteen
Veronica
“I’m sorry where are we going?” I didn’t mean to sound so angry about it. Truth be told I was still pretty shaken up about everything that had just gone down and angry felt better than scared. I knew there was something wrong about Scar, about the lot of them. But I never thought it would come to that.
Hank takes my hand. The blood on his knuckles from various pirate faces smears into my palm but frankly, I don’t give a fuck. It feels secure amidst this madness. Who knew my knight in shining armor would be this goddamn mug. Ooh yikes.
Speaking of mug, his face is starting to swell from that crack on the jaw. It does nothing to stop his face from looking ruggedly handsome. Prick. I didn’t know a movie star could take a hit.
I thought they faked it, you know? Like all my orgasms with Richard Yeats. All the sounds are there sure, and it looks great! But the target? Miles off.
“I’m taking you back to the room, get you cleaned up.” I stop in my tracks.
“I’m sorry are you stupid?” He looks at me blankly. There’s my answer. “After all that head busting,” which was pretty fucking hot and wildly impressive like what the fuck, “don’t you think we should be, I dunno escaping?” His eyes get big. Wow, the action hero can think too.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here while the getting’s good.” I continue. “I say the motorboat.” Hank nods and mutters something that I assume is a begrudging agreement. Whatever. I don’t care if he respects my quick thinking at this moment. He gets a pass for all that he did back there. A really fucking big pass.
“You sure about this?” I try not to seem exasperated at the question. I mean the man literally beat up a bunch of insane pirates for me. Why does that make me happy? What is WRONG with me. Add it to the growing list of things to discuss in therapy.
“If you have a better plan, speak now or forever hold your peace. Those guys are gonna get up soon, and I haven’t seen all your movies but I can bet they’re not going to be very happy when they wake up. Usually you’d be hopping in the getaway car by now right?” Hank gets thoughtful for a moment.
“So you’ve seen one of my movies?”
“Oh come ON!” I take his hand this time and we race through the halls. We’ve got to sneak up the stairs and head for the gangway. If we can make it up to the deck, I saw a ladder off the back of the yacht near the water slide. Yeah, water slide. Like I said rich people. Even if we have to jump overboard, maybe we could swim far enough to the rope towing the—
I never get a chance to finish my thought. Just as we turn the corner to rush up the steps Captain green scarf and a few miscellaneous cronies I haven’t bothered to name in my head are gathered at the top of the stairs. And they’ve brought all their guns out to play.
I instinctively step in front of Hank. Why? I dunno. My main line of attack is smacking someone with a goddamn shoe, I’m not exactly Wonder Woman. But after all the hell I’ve put him through, at least I can be a human shield.
Hank looks at me like I’m an idiot, and for once I can’t argue with him. He shoves me aside and steps in front of me instead. I nudge him aside again. It’s my turn to save you, asshole! After a couple more rounds of switcheroo we wind up doing a three stooges routine
until we’re squished side by side on the narrow steps.
The pirates just stare on with hatred, and confusion, burning in their eyes. Maybe all that buddy-buddy shit didn’t work so well after all, eh Mr. Wilder? My eyes dart to Hank who’s got a disturbingly fierce look in his eye. He looks aggressive. On the offence. This can’t be good.
“You. You go against all orders.” Captain barks as the guns all shift menacingly. I gulp but try to keep a brave face. It’s getting really exhausting being brave all the time. I want to cry and throw things and jump overboard like a shrieking banshee. But where would that leave Hank?
“Prisoners will be punished.” Is this really the end? Hank’s whole body tenses up beside me. Oh God you knuckle head don’t say anything stupid.
“And what about you, pal?” Hank rages back to him. It’s so aggressive the Captain actually takes a step back. “Your goddamn animals were going to…they tried to…” Hank’s breath comes out in ragged fury. My hand shoots out to grab his and he immediately relaxes his shoulders.
That’s right, you dumb lug. Shut up. He clears his throat. Shut up Hank, shut up shut up shut UP.
“Your men tried to rape Veronica.” The words fall over the men like a spell. He lets it hang for a moment before he barrels ahead. “Is this the kind of operation you run? Is this the kind of thing you expect from your crew? Cause if that’s the case pal, you might as well just shoot us right now.” Oh shit.
I look up to the Captain, who looks very much like he’d enjoy taking Hank’s offer. The tension is horrible, but nobody dares to move. It’s like an old western shootout. But we don’t have any guns. Jesus Hank, what have we done?
“I’m sorry.” I blink. Was that Captain Green Scarf who just spoke? Oh my God it was.
He yells something to the men and they all lower their weapons. What the fuck is going on here? Green scarf actually looks uncomfortable and shifts his gaze down to his feet for a moment before staring us down.
