Breaking Bad: 14 Tales of Lawless Love

by Koko Brown

  One moment she was being sucked into a black hole. The next she was snatched back.

  Rising. Rising. Inch by inch, escaping death.

  Drunk with relief, she slurped in air. The sudden rush of air collided with the salt water in her lungs and she broke into a spasm of coughs.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Lèsè jerked her head around.

  Flynn grinned down at her. He hadn’t been washed overboard!

  Without hesitation, she lunged at him.

  “That a girl,” he cheered. His arm flexed and as if she weighed nothing, he hauled aboard.

  For long minutes, they simply clung to each other.

  “Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

  Lèsè nodded. Was she dreaming? Was she actually alive?

  “Grab onto the rail and no matter what, don’t let go until we’ve reached the lower deck.”

  THIRTEEN

  The return seemed endless, far longer than the first leg of the trip. Still, she kept moving. She’d walk to the New World if it meant surviving this storm.

  When they reached the ladder, he swung down then helped her descend.

  “So cold,” she whispered in the stairwell. The wind was freezing through her soaked clothes.

  She began to shake violently and the weight of his arm draped over her shoulders. She leaned into him, grateful for his body heat. Grateful for him. If not for his help, the sea would’ve claimed more than Pao.

  Arm in arm, they flung themselves into the shelter of the cabin.

  “My brave little pirate. I ought to punish you for scaring me like that.”

  He wrapped his hands around throat as if meaning to strangle her.

  She gave a soft wondering sigh. His warm hands felt so good on her skin. “Then punish me,” she breathed.

  She sounded needy. She did need him, she thought straining against him. Funny how a life or death situation could make a person re-evaluate one’s existence and how miserable she would be if she didn’t at least taste the pleasure he so freely offered. If only temporarily.

  A flash of awareness colored his expression. Slowly, he nodded his head as if some kind of unspoken truce had been agreed upon. Slowly, the circled the other as if adversaries or discovering the other for the first time.

  He caught her around the waist and dragged her into him. Her eyes went to his mouth and his lips curled.

  Lèsè twined her arms around his neck. She kissed him for saving her life. She kissed him for making her feel again.

  “I’m ready to fulfill my promise,” her tone was softly pleading.

  “First,” he deduced, “we need to get these wet clothes off you.”

  His hands were warm at her waist unwinding the sash at her waist. When the band was undone, he let her pants fall down her legs he with them. With a surprising reverence, he lifted one bare foot and then another, freeing her from the soaked garment.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, gently stroking her mons with his thumb.

  Burning up with flame-hot desire, she leaned over him and scored her nails down his back. Hearing his passionate grunt, she threw her head back and laughed. So jubilant were her spirits. She was blessed alive and she could feel it in every fiber of her being.

  “Mistress,” a voice said softly.

  Lèsè went still. Christian growled. Standing in the corner where they’d left them, Liu shuffled from one foot to the other.

  Cheeks flushed from arousal, she rounded on him, “Get out!”

  “W-where should I go,” he jabbered, rolling his meaty palms with worry.

  Reminded of his earlier cowardice, Lèsè stalked over to him, grasped him by the collar and hauled him behind her. She only paused to open the cabin door. “Go anywhere but you can’t stay here,” she declared, shoving him in the hall.

  Rising to his feet, Christian chuckled. “That was cruel.”

  “Cruel?” She choked out, bristling with outrage and repressed lust. “His dithering could’ve cost everyone their lives.” In the distance, a cabin door opened and closed. “Happy now?”

  He shook his head, luminous sexual heat shining in his blue eyes. “Not especially.”

  “Then what would make you happy?” she softly murmured.

  “Come here,” he said, his voice a husky command that floated over the small distance, and touched her like the hand that had been between her legs.

  It only took seconds to strip her of his clothing. Even less to divest himself of his. Then picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  “Finally.” His heavy weight pressed her into the mattress. “You’ve had me waiting for an eternity.”

  Lèsè swatted him, catching him on the chin. “We’ve only just met.”

  “And I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.”

  His confession caused her throat to constrict and her stomach to clench painfully. “And I you,” she whispered, melting into submission. She lifted her legs and splayed them in invitation.

  He entered with one deep stroke. Gasping, Lèsè dug her toes into the mattress. Bending his head, he licked at her nipple then covered the crest with his mouth. He tugged as he withdrew then exerted the sweetest of pressure as he slid to the hilt. So deep, she cried out in pleasure.

  He was so big and it had been so long. Her every cell awakened for him, responded to him, writhed beneath him. On the verge. Close. Not close enough.

  “Want deeper.” He slid his arms beneath her thighs and lifted. As her bottom lifted from the bed, Lèsè slurped in a breath. He’d opened her fully to his demanding thrusts, the slap of his scrotum. She cried out again. This time he took it in himself with a savage kiss. His tongue miraculously in sync with his driving thrusts.

  Tension coiled in her belly, in her blood. She shuddered against him, her hands clawed at his back. Her climax exploded deep inside her and the world came crumbling down around her.

  “I’m retiring for the night.” Christian lifted his head to look out the port windows. “I mean day. Or is it early evening?” He glanced down at her for help.

  Lèsè chuckled. She had no earthly clue what time it was either. They’d spent the storm going at it like rabbits and she’d lost track of all sense of time. Even though she’d found a lover she couldn’t abandon her responsibilities.

  Sighing, she flopped on her back. “I need to inspect the ship, check on my crew.”

  He had other ideas. “One more time,” he said, running a finger around a peach aureole. The treacherous bud puckered beneath his attention.

  “I’ve given you more than enough times,” she scoffed, toes curling. “At last count seven.”

  “And you loved every single time,” he boasted, pinching a nipple. Gasping, Lèsè arched into his hand and he chuckled in triumph and he leaned over her. He took the sensitive bud in his mouth, and tugged. Lèsè shuddered in his touch, and grew hard as jade in his mouth.

  “Say it,” he rasped, fingers tiptoeing downward over her belly. “Say you loved every single time.”

  “It was…fine.” Before he could make it eight and prove her a liar, Lèsè rolled from the bed. When she stood, she winced. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest.

  She dressed, pulling on a bunting yellow banner gown, and wound her hair into a simple bun anchored by a gold comb.

  The bed creaked behind her, and she paused as a suspect desire shot through her. Bracing herself, she dared a glance behind her and caught him slowing sitting up. His gaze blazed with appreciation, triggering an unfamiliar, girlish shiver.

  “I’ve never seen you look like anything other than a man,” he acknowledged. “You look like a beautiful flower.”

  Blushing, Lèsè smoothed her hands over her hips.

  “It’s the only thing that’s clean,” she lied. She’d purposely pulled the dress--one she’d never worn--from the chest to solicit his response. She just hadn’t expected how good his reaction would make her feel.

  Lèsè frowned. When did she start dressing f
or a man? Her worth wasn’t based on his opinion. Reviling this momentary weakness too often embraced by the fairer sex, she ripped off the garment and tossed it back in the trunk.

  “Now why would you do that?” he asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “A dress isn’t practical on a pirate ship,” she huffed. “What if we’re attacked?”

  “Dress or pants, you can handle yourself. I know this first-hand.”

  “I spanked your butt,” she said, peeking at him. “Not once but twice.”

  Almost definitely, she choose a loose-fitting blouse and trousers.

  “And I more than evened the score.” Sporting a wicked grin, he slapped her rear. Lèsè trembled, both appalled and ready.

  “I will not waste any more of time trifling with you, Mr. Flynn.”

  “I’ll show you trifling. Should I do it hard and fast or torturously slow until you beg me to keep trifling you?” He reached her, and she sidestepped him.

  With a surprising quickness—born of desperation—she tugged on her clothing, eschewing boots for a pair of soft slippers.

  “Good God! You’ve grown twice in size. One can’t tell if you’re a woman or a hot air balloon.”

  She returned his scornful expression with one of feigned innocence. “This is one of my favorite outfits.” She pretended to hold her knives. “I can take on a hundred men in this.”

  “And you can house them as well.” he grumbled.

  “Can I trust you to remain out of trouble?”

  Glancing at the cabin door, he blandly declared, “You know I’m the model prisoner.” There was nothing charming nor wicked about him now. He radiated resentment and anger. Despite her best efforts, guilt washed over her, and for some ridiculous reason she wanted to please him.

  “Would…would you like to check on your men?”

  “I would forever be in your debt, mistress Lèsè.”

  His smile blinded her, causing her pulse to leap. She slowly backpedaled to the door as something inside turned soft. No. It couldn’t be her heart. She didn’t possess one. At least she wasn’t aware of one since she’d never fallen in love. Were these reactions caused by love?

  “Meet me on deck,” she directed. Did she sound shaken?

  Unable to re-erect the wall around her heart, she strode from the room without a backward glance.

  All was silent on deck. Even the few crew members huddled near the railing barely spoke above a whisper. They all appeared worse for wear, likely thrown about in the storm with no bed or a giant of man as an anchor.

  Guilt ridden, Lèsè surveyed the horizon over the bow. As far as the eye could see, nothing but the beautiful, blue-green ocean. Curious, she scrambled over to the railing and looked aft.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered, at a loss for words since beautiful hardly described the sight before her. Instead of pulling them out to sea, the storm pushed them into the mouth of the Canton River. Hundreds of junk boats of sizes littered the harbor and in the distance, buildings dotted the shore. A surge of happiness lifted her spirits and the sun touched her face as it broke through the clouds, scoring the water-slogged deck.

  “Have any of you done a proper inspection?” she asked the ramshackle gathering.

  Chunhua, a boat swabber, spoke up first, “We lost one of the masts and two of the sails.”

  “The Brit’s ship fared well. We lost a couple of their goats,” Haung added.

  Lèsè knew they were holding back. “I know we lost Pao as soon as the storm hit, anyone else?”

  “We lost seven, mistress,” Meilai sniffled, coming to her side. At eleven, she was the youngest person on board.

  “Their families will be well compensated,” she said, awkwardly patting the girl’s shoulders, offering the only comfort she could give. The sea took victims indiscriminately. She needed to learn this fact, carry on or ship out.

  Clearing her throat, Lèsè stepped away. “Anyone hire a tug to ferry us to the dry dock?”

  “We were waiting on you, mistress.” Haung looked away sheepishly as if he’d divulged some secret. He had and Lèsè didn’t appreciate it one bit.

  “So this ship stops running, I’m indisposed. You forget your duties and just sit on your hands,” she said railing at them and deflecting scrutiny from her dirt. “Snap to! You four, take the dinghy, go find a tow. Meilai. Round everyone up, tell them to report to the quarterdeck.”

  “Even the prisoners?” the girl squeaked.

  “No. Haung and Chunhua will escort them.” She looked around. “Where are Liu and Min-Ru?”

  “They deserted before dawn,” Huang supplied.

  It was for the best, she mused. She’d planned on breaking ties with them in port.

  Lèsè headed back to the cabin, meeting Flynn in the gangway. “Why are you skulking about?”

  “Thought it wise to not traipse around your boat if there’s any chaos. How are my men?”

  “Your ship and crew are fine. You lost two goats.”

  “I rather liked those goats.” Flynn stroked his chin. “So we’re going ashore?”

  Lèsè nodded. “The boat needs to dry dock for repairs. I’ll take care of some business then we head to Guangzhou.”

  “Where does that leave me?” he asked, an unreadable emotion brightening his blue eyes.

  “Voyage is over, Mr. Flynn.” Her throat constricted. “Time you join the others.”

  The urge to take every word back and melt into his arms, simply enjoy being with him, bombarded her. Instead, she retreated to her cabin.

  FOURTEEN

  “I hope you find your accommodations to your liking.”

  Madame JingJing hovered near the doorway. Worn from many years selling her body, she tried to hide the wear and tear under a pound of rice paper. The scent of her pungent perfume preceded her as she floated to the center of the room. Before she gagged, Lèsè escaped to the nearest window to open it.

  “One whore house is no better than the other,” she grunted, struggling with the window latch.

  Clearly intending to help her, Madame JingJing’s skirts swished. Before she could follow through, Lèsè fended her off. Any closer, she might lose her breakfast. “I have it!” she barked, holding up a hand.

  Pursing her rouged lips, the Madame tucked her hands in the bell sleeves of her purple gown. A shrewd proprietor, she continued to extoll the virtues of her establishment. “I’m sure you’ll find that the Floating Lotus is not like any other brothel in the city of one of the fi—”

  “It's the closest to my ship,” Lèsè retorted, impatience creeping into her voice.

  “Speaking of your ship, how long will you be in port.”

  “My ship will be dry docked a couple of weeks, we will be staying here no more than a few days. I need to see to my affairs.”

  “And in the interim my girls….”

  “Will not be seeing customers.”

  “Captain Lèsè surely you can see how impossible that will be. This is a business."

  “If you're trying to get more money out of me it’s not going to happen. And you are not backing out because we've made a deal.” Lèsè crowded the other woman. “While my crew and I are here, no woman will be plowed. No dick will be sucked and no ass will be fucked. Do I make myself clear?"

  The woman’s left eye twitched and then a smile, which didn’t quite reach her eyes, broke her masked expression. “Would you like your bath before or after dinner, Mistress Lèsè?”

  “I would love a bath. The sooner the better.”

  Madame JingJing bowed then quietly excused herself.

  After a much needed bath and change of clothes, Lèsè set out to take care of business. With Meilai in tow, she secured a reputable shipwright to repair the broken mast. Portly and seemingly filled with hot air, he bent her ear on long-winded tales of his seafaring days before she staggered out of there with a promised completion date of two weeks. In need of able bodies to replace the crew she’d lost, she commissioned a calligrapher with
producing fifty banner ads to be placed throughout the city soliciting journeymen. If none answered the ad, she’d have to resort to the unpleasant business of pressing people into service.

  Before sunset, Lèsè returned to the Floating Lotus. She might be a pirate but even the unsavory streets of Shenzhen made her seek the safety of four walls. When she entered the brothel’s common room, she met more than her crew and Madame JingJing’s girls. She took in the group of men with their backs to her and their repugnant smell.

  “Go to your room,” she hissed to Meilai. She watched the young girl scamper up the stairs then joined her crew. Hands palming her knives, she moseyed to the center of the room.

  “Ah! Mistress Lèsè has decided to honor us with her presence.”

  Lèsè’s lip curled. “Yaalon Wan,” she sneered.

  She’d crossed paths with the fleet master only once but he’d made a memorable impression. The sadistic, greedy fuck tried to fold her ship into his growing sub fleet. Already chafing beneath Madame Shih’s ever-expanding reach, she refused to see her cut dwindle even further by one of her subordinates. They’d fought on and off for two days but she and her crew had prevailed.

  Not the least bit bothered by his grimy presence, Lèsè kicked one of the benches out. As she sat down, Wan came to stand by the table, his fists clenched.

  “We have a problem,” he hedged.

  The problem is you stink! “Oh, and what’s that?”

  “We’ve come to part with our silver after a long time at sea and we’ve been told this establishment was closed to patrons… by you. Is this true?”

  “Technically, the Floating Lotus is not closed. I bought it out while I handle my affairs. In the interim, I’ve given the girls a holiday.”

  “Who gives whores a vacation,” Wan exploded.

  “I do and I have every time I make port.” Lèsè struggled to maintain a bland expression in the face of his incomprehensible fury. “There are five other brothels on the boulevard---all within in walking distance. Moving on shouldn’t inconvenience you nor your crew.”