The Butcher and the Beast

by Sean Michael

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Totally Bound Publication

  The Butcher and the Beast

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-582-6

  ©Copyright Sean Michael 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright April 2015

  Edited by Stacey Birkel

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 3.

  THE BUTCHER AND THE BEAST

  Sean Michael

  Can a pirate and a doctor find love on the seas?

  Stephen is a doctor, a practical man who wishes his sister wouldn’t worry so about the pirates that plague their island home. So it’s ironic that Stephen himself is set upon by just those pirates, who carry him off to heal their wounded captain.

  John is a pirate captain, master of his fate and used to getting what he wants. And he decides he wants Stephen, even when the good doctor wants nothing more than to run away from him.

  Can the beast convince the doctor who the sailors call the butcher to stay with him?

  Chapter One

  “Elizabeth, please. I’m not going to Hades to fight the devil himself. I’m taking my constitutional. Simply wait tea until I return.” Stephen shook his head at his sister and her swollen eyes.

  Ever since the damnable rumors about pirates attacking their fair isle, the woman had been an unbearable worrywart. The entire scenario was pointless, ridiculous—bloody childish. Admiral Lippincott was the finest in Her Majesty’s fleet, keeping them all safe and supplied. There wasn’t a pirate alive foolhardy enough to attack Santa Maria.

  “Brother…Stephen. Please. Mary Ann said—”

  “Mary Ann is a twit and a gossip—a child trapped in a woman’s body.” He stood, glaring down at her. “Now, honestly. Calm yourself and I shall be home before you know it.” He loved her dearly, he did, but damned if she didn’t drive him batty.

  He stormed out of the drawing room, nodding to George as he passed. “Tea will be late.”

  “Yes, Doctor Grey. Have a good walk.”

  Yes, good man. This was why Stephen kept the old man on the payroll. He knew when to agree.

  Stephen wandered down the cobblestones, nodding to the random people he met, heading to the long stretch of planks by the docks. His boots thumped against the wood. The sound of the water against the dock was quite relaxing.

  There was a soft splash and two men appeared before him in the shadows. “You’re the doctor, eh?”

  “I am.” Hell’s bells. He started backing away, gripping his cane firmly. He was ready for any trouble a pair of layabouts might try to visit on him.

  “Good.” They each grabbed one of his arms and went over the side of the pier, landing in the water with a splash.

  “Unhand me! Help! Constable!” Stephen struggled, trousers and shirtwaist soaked through and heavy immediately, the water cool and slick. Oh, Elizabeth was never going to let him forget this nonsense.

  One of his captors turned to glide through the water on his back, tugging Stephen along, hand over his mouth. In moments he was being pulled up into a rowboat.

  He still had his cane and as soon as he could find his balance and pull away from the fiends, he swung, hoping to make contact. “What wickedness is this?”

  There was a yelp from in front of him and a laugh from behind him, and the cane was yanked from his hand and unceremoniously tossed overboard.

  “We’re taking you to a patient, Doctor. This how you treat all of ’em?”

  “I beg your pardon? The governor sent you?” Did they think him a fool?

  They laughed. Not the polite titters he was used to, either, but full out belly laughs.

  He looked around, judging the distance to the shore, the weight of his clothing. He was not the strongest swimmer on the isle, but he could survive. Stephen tensed, diving for the edge of the rowboat. His hopes were dashed as one meaty hand wrapped around his arm, holding fast.

  “Now, now, sawbones, don’t be thinking of going anywhere before you see the cap’n.”

  “Captain? Captain of what? Captain who? I know everyone on the isle.” His mind could not imagine it, could not come to terms with this insanity.

  “Not taking you to anywhere on the isle, now are we?”

  “Shut it, Dawson.”

  “You shut it!”

  “Both of you shut it,” came a third voice as they drew up next to a large ship.

  “I am here under duress! I insist upon being taken back to shore!” Stephen despised ships, the rocking and rolling.

  His words brought another loud round of laughing and he was unceremoniously hauled on board.

  “Cap’n’s below.”

  “Below? Below where? What is wrong with him? Why did you come fetch me? What on earth is that stench?”

  “That’d be me, ya butcher.” A foul-breathed giant of a man pushed into his face, laughing before grabbing his arm and pulling him along.

  “I say! Unhand me! What on Earth do you expect of me, without my bag, my tools?” Fiends. Foul, beastly fiends.

  “We expect you to fix up the Captain, sawbones. He dies—you die.”

  They started going down. The stench was…unbearable. People honestly lived this way? Apurpose? Utterly ridiculous!

  “Stop hovering, Havers, and get me the thrice damned whiskey!” The angry growl came from the direction they were going in and a sailor pushed passed them like the very devil was on his tail.

  Oh, facing the bear in his den. Goodness. What tales Stephen would have to tell tomorrow over breakfast. He held on to that thought.

  He was brought into a little cabin with barely enough room to stand upright. The bed and desk took up most of the space, his escort using the bulk of the air in the small place. But it was the man on the bed who seemed to dominate the room.

  Lying absolutely naked on the bed, the captain filled it entirely with a long, muscled body. In fact, Stephen was quite sure he’d never seen such an excellent specimen of humanity, even marred as the man was by a deep gash on his chest and a wound on his upper thigh that looked to be made from a musket.

  “Good Lord.” He went from Stephen to Doctor Grey in a mere heartb
eat. “I suppose clean bandages, soap and water, are out of the question? Cat gut—you have supplies?”

  “Havers!” shouted the captain. The sailor who’d pushed passed them came scurrying back with a bottle of whiskey. “Get those lazy roustabouts to shore for whatever the butcher needs.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier for both of us to return to my hospital?” Stephen suggested.

  Their laughter was starting to become very annoying.

  “Just tell Havers what you need,” the captain ordered.

  “There is a black bag. I require that. The bottles of laudanum. Soap. Bandages. Cat gut and needles. Ether. Please, no one knows better than myself where the supplies are kept. Let me return to fetch them.” And scream and alert the navy. Rogues.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Havers, go get what he asked for. Take Ruby with you and try not to kill too many people while you’re at it. I’d rather not have the entire naval fleet after us.” The captain pinned him with a sharp gaze from eyes the color of a bright blue sky. “You know if I die, so do you.”

  “Pardon me?” Stephen swallowed hard, backed away a few steps. “I say! I never asked to be brought to your aid.”

  “Which would be why we’ve put in the caveat, now wouldn’t it?” The men laughed again and the captain reached for the whiskey, downing a third of the bottle in two easy gulps.

  “And if you die from overindulgence before proper supplies arrive? Am I to be held accountable for that?” His knees were actually trembling.

  The captain laughed again, those blue eyes twinkling at him. “My dear doctor, do you really think my men will know the difference?”

  Beast. He wrinkled his nose, eyes searching the room for a weapon, a defendable spot. Anything.

  “Relax, sawbones. You’re not going anywhere and no one’ll hurt you if you do as you’re told.” The pirate held out the whiskey bottle to him.

  Stephen looked at the bottle, shook his head and immediately regretted it. The bottle would have made a weapon. “No. I’ll need it to clean the wounds and I don’t want to work tipply.”

  “Good plan, sawbones. Good plan. You don’t really mind if I indulge, do you?” From the twinkle in the man’s eyes, Stephen doubted his opinion actually mattered.

  He didn’t answer, simply looked at the wounds, the room, anything but those eyes and that solid, bared body.

  It seemed an age before Havers came back with his bag, stuffed full of practically his entire pharmacy.

  “Good Lord. You’d think I was starting a hospital here.” He grabbed his bag and the whiskey out of the beast’s hands. “Now then, I’ll patch your chest and then fetch the ball from your thigh.”

  “Yes, you will.” Those blue eyes still looked amused then flicked away from him. “Tell Matey to set sail, Havers, before anyone discovers that the good doctor has gone missing.”

  “Set sail?” Stephen shook his head. “How will I get home? I cannot stay here!”

  Havers’ “yes, sir” drifted back to them, the man disappearing, leaving behind only the captain and the guard.

  Stephen met those blue eyes, truly worried now. “I wish to be returned to my hospital. I will aid you, but once I have done so, I must be returned.”

  “Just do your job, Doctor, and worry not about what is going to happen after.”

  “No. I need your word that I will be released when you no longer have need of me.”

  “You have my word.” The captain had begun to go pale, pain under the amusement in the low voice.

  “Thank you.” Stephen gave the man a dose of laudanum to ease the pain, then started cleaning out the chest wound.

  The guard loomed over him while the captain watched what he did, not seeming at all queasy to watch himself be worked on.

  Stephen used liberal amounts of whiskey, then carefully stitched the wound up. It was a clean gash and the man was obviously healthy. “There. One down.”

  After washing the bullet hole out, he grabbed his forceps. He got his first indication that the captain might be in pain, the man grunting and the big fists growing white. “Have you something to hold onto? I must get the round out, else you’ll go septic.”

  The big fists tangled in the sheets. “Just do it.”

  “Right.” Stephen bent to his work, only slipping once in his quest to get the little ball of lead free from the muscled thigh.

  “Got it.” He held the ball up, triumphant, then poured whiskey into the wound to clean it again before binding the captain’s leg with thick bandages.

  “Hand that whiskey up, Butcher.”

  “I am not a butcher, you beast.” Stephen handed him the near empty bottle. “Now tell your hooligans to return me to the island.”

  The man downed the last of the bottle before shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “You gave your word.” Stephen grabbed his bag, held it close. “I did as you requested.”

  “I gave my word that I would release you when I no longer had need of you, good doctor.”

  “What devilishness is this? I have patched you well and good!” His fingers wrapped around his scalpel. If he could reach the deck, he would throw himself into the ocean and swim for shore.

  “I’ll decide when I no longer have need of you.” The captain nodded at the guard. “Take his stuff. He can bunk in here.”

  The guard laughed and did as he’d been ordered, tossing a barb over his shoulder as he left. “Bit old for a cabin boy, isn’t he?”

  Stephen pulled out his scalpel, brandishing it. “Take a step toward me and I will slice you.” By all the hosts of heaven, please, help me escape, he begged silently.

  The scoundrel looked at him for a moment then began to laugh. To laugh! The poor fool must be unhinged with drink and pain.

  “I assure you. I am most serious.” Stephen put on his most stern face.

  The captain’s hand came out, fast as a snake, grabbed his wrist and twisted until he let go of the scalpel in surprised pain.

  “I demand to be released!” Oh, sweet heavens. He grabbed for the scalpel with his other hand, a low, angry sound escaping. What would Elizabeth say? What would the governor do? What would happen to his patients?

  The captain took the scalpel and tossed it out the port hole before tugging him close. “Demand something else, Butcher. It’s a sweet look on you.”

  “Release me at once!” How could anyone so recently wounded be so strong?

  The man purred. Purred! “And what will you do if I release you?”

  “I wish nothing but to return home!” Stephen pulled with all his might.

  The captain tugged him right down, grunting as he landed on the bandaged chest. “I’m not done with you yet, Butcher.”

  “You won’t get a moment’s peace from me. I swear it!”

  “Oh, I can think of a way of keeping you quiet.”

  Stephen twisted, feet kicking, hair coming loose from its thin tie and sticking to his face. His captor growled softly and forced their lips together, tongue pushing into his mouth. He went still, in total shock, eyes wide and stunned. His mind simply could not comprehend such a thing.

  A satisfied sound filled his mouth, along with the captain’s hot, slick tongue. The sound brought him to life, and he pulled his head away, his struggles returning ten-fold. “Demon! Beast!”

  Chuckling, his captor let him go, which sent him crashing to the floor. He bolted for the door. He wasn’t a large man, but he was quick and sure as a cat. The door was unbarred and no guard stood beyond it. He guessed—correctly, it seemed—that the captain was not up to giving him chase.

  He ran up the wooden stairs, quiet as he could. The sun had faded away by the time he hit sea air and he could see no hint of the island, nary a light nor a fire.

  “Blast!” He crept around, searching for something—a small boat.

  “Oy, lookie ’ere. It’s the butcher!”

  “He’s right pretty, ain’t he?”

  “Yeah, an’ you can look, but don’t be touchi
n’. I ’ear the Captain’s already claimed ’im.”

  “Wot’s ’e lookin’ for?”

  “’Ell if I know.”

  Oh, sweet Lord, preserve him. “Let me be. I… I’m merely taking in the night air.” Closer to the edge now. Come, Stephen. Better to drown than to be a prisoner of such hellions.

  It was Havers—or someone who looked very much like the man—who grabbed his arm. “Come on, sawbones. You’re to stay with the Captain, ’member?”

  “Unhand me!” Did no one keep their hands to themselves on this vessel? “I was promised a return home!”

  “You’ll have to take that up with the Captain. We just follow orders.” Havers dragged him back down into the bowels of the ship.

  “Please, no one will know if you let me go. Tell them I jumped overboard. Tell them anything, but allow me to go!” Honestly, in addition to everything else, the motion of a ship did not agree with him.

  “You’d rather drown than stay on board?” The man shook his head, chuckled. “I’ll never understand the gentry.”

  “I am not here of my free will.” Would no one listen to him?

  “You’re hardly the first to say that. Play the cards you’ve been dealt.”

  “I will not. I demand to be released! I refuse to remain!”

  Havers chuckled. “Refuse all you like, sawbones. You’re here regardless.”

  They entered the captain’s cabin again, the man sleeping now, moving restlessly.

  Stephen tried to pull away, fist connecting with Havers’ shoulder. “Let me go!”

  The man shoved him hard, sending him sprawling to the floor. “You can do this easy or hard, sawbones. There’s them here that want you to make it hard. I wouldn’t give ’em the chance if I was you, but it’s not my choice.” Havers glared hard at him then slammed the door closed, leaving him alone with the captain.

  Stephen went to the port hole, looking, wondering if he could possibly squeeze through.