8
Pirate Doug
“Soooo,” I said, trying to gauge if it was safe to remove my hands from my trouser snake. Tallulah was a wild one. “What say you we let bygones be bygones?”
“What say you we get rid of the Hags then you and your crew of weenies leave forever?” she shot back.
“That’s one option,” I replied with a shrug as I removed my soaked shirt and tossed it to the sand. I knew exactly what I was doing. Her lust-filled scent belied her words and expression. Her quick intake of breath was music to my ears and I considered removing my cojones cover. However, my Mermaid’s bite was as violent as her bark. Losing my willy right now would be bad for what I was hoping would transpire.
“You are really something else,” she muttered as she ran her hands through her shiny lavender curls and groaned.
“Thank you. I know,” I replied.
“That was an insult, Doug.”
“My bad,” I shot back and then froze. Something strange and surreal was happening in my gut.
For a moment, I wondered if it was the beans I’d eaten for lunch coming back for a surprise and untimely visit—but no. This was not indigestion. It was something I’d never experienced.
The Mermaid had called me Doug… not Pirate Doug… and I liked it. No one in the world could call me Doug and keep my attention, but Tallulah could. Interesting.
“Say that again,” I instructed, eyeing her strangely. Was I actually correct about Tallulah being my mate? In all honesty, I just wanted to get my Pappy off my arse. Tallulah was an animal in the sack and delightfully rude. She also fit the criteria of hating me.
Spending eternity with this Mermaid didn’t appall me in the least. Could my search be over? Was it this easy? Not that having to guard my pickle for the rest of time would be easy. Normally I was consumed with looting riches, not with how to woo a gal, but now I was confused. Nothing new on that front, but…
“Say what again? That you’re a dumbass?” she inquired with a laugh.
“No. I am fully aware of that,” I told her with a grin. “Say my name.”
She considered my request for so long it was downright rude, which of course made my roger even jollier. She was horribly perfect for me. Only downside was that she couldn’t see this as well.
“Doug,” she finally said.
My pecker protector was now practically choking my Johnson to death. My desire for Tallulah grew along with my willy. What was happening here?
I was speechless and stared at the work of art standing before me. All sorts of unfamiliar feelings consumed me and I was suddenly desperate to know all sorts of things about her.
What was her middle name?
Did she like wasabi with her sushi?
Did she leave the toilet seat up? No. Wait. That was my issue not hers.
Was she team Edward or team Jacob? My mind was a jumbled mess and for the first time in five hundred years I wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. I didn’t like this at all.
“Crab got your tongue?” Tallulah asked with a smirk that slayed me.
“No,” I choked out and weighed how pissed she would be if I suggested we take the conversation to her quarters. “I just… umm…”
“How about this,” she suggested, avoiding eye contact. “Let’s decide how we’re going to deal with the Sea Hags and then you can beg me on bended knee for about a decade or seven to be your mate.”
“Will that work?” I asked, feeling hopeful.
“Nope,” she replied with a giggle. “But it will be fun.”
The Mermaid was lying through her teeth. She was mine. She knew it and I knew it. Or at least I think she knew it. I definitely knew it. Sure I would have to suffer first, but retribution at the hands of my voluptuous Mermaid would certainly include make-up sex. I’d never hung around for make-up sex with anyone, although Cosmopolitan Magazine stated in its prose that it was very hot.
“Fine,” I said, adjusting my codpiece so that my bologna pony wouldn’t explode and be useless. “Let’s make a plan and then I will start begging.”
“Vampire Pirates don’t beg,” Tallulah said, observing me like I was a science experiment gone wrong.
“There’s a first time for everything,” I replied, snapping my fingers and producing a map of the surrounding islands.
“You’re insane.”
“Your point?” I asked, spreading the map out on the sand.
“No point. Just an observation,” she replied kneeling on the ground next to me.
It was going to be extremely difficult to form coherent sentences with all the blood from my brain residing in my tent pole, but I enjoyed a good challenge. Tallulah was about to be mine.
I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to accomplish the feat considering I was fairly certain I couldn’t take her as my mate unless she agreed. I could always steal her heart if she didn’t give it willingly. Looting was my specialty. Love? Not so much. However, I was Pirate Doug, the greatest Vampire Pirate of the Seven Seas. Actually, I was the only Vampire Pirate of the Seven Seas which, in turn, made me the greatest. Or that was the line I was going with.
Now I simply needed to make my Mermaid believe it too. A romp in the sack would be outstanding, but I was certain it was going to take more than that.
What would it take?
No fucking clue. However, being clueless had never stopped me and I had no plans of changing my ways today.
“Upton,” I said, pacing the deck of the ship. “How would you go about wooing a woman?”
After making preliminary plans to take down the Sea Hags with Tallulah, I’d hightailed it back to the ship to figure out how to win her. Swimming with a thirty-pound pecker protector proved difficult, but I forced myself to swim with ease as my Mermaid was watching. Wouldn’t do to drown in her presence.
Upton grinned and settled himself on a lawn chair that we’d pilfered from Target the last time we’d visited Miami. Thornycraft and Bonar were swabbing the deck and eavesdropping, but that was fine. I was going to need as much brainpower as possible with this conundrum.
“Well, Captain,” Upton said. “Ye have come to the right seadog for advice on the lasses.”
I ignored the muffled laughter of the other idiots and pulled up a matching looted chair.
“Speak, man,” I insisted. I was working under a deadline here.
“Are ye talking about getting the wench into yer bed?” Upton questioned.
I paused and considered. That was definitely part of the plan. “Yes.”
“Aye,” he said and nodded his head. “Just expose yer pecker to her. That’s what I do. Works like a dream.”
“You’re serious?”
“No, I’m Upton,” he replied, confused.
Nodding, I pondered his suggestion. It was definitely simple. However, flashing Tallulah seemed like a bad plan. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I was going with my gut on this one.
“Interesting,” I said. “While appealing in its simplicity, I feel it’s a bit too bold a move at this juncture.”
“Didn’t understand a word of that, Captain,” Upton said, squinting in confusion.
“That’s because yer a floundering, barrel bellied son of a sea hound,” Bonar grunted in disgust, backhanding Upton and sending him sprawling onto the deck. “Ya never show yer pecker until after ye has written the letter of love and serenaded the siren.”
“Go on,” I instructed Bonar. This plan had more merit, although I was tone deaf and had terrible penmanship.
“Ye need to pen the words of love and describe her knockers with flowery words. After ye have waxed poetic about her lady bits, ye will then need to sing a love song. Personally, I enjoy warbling the tunes of Whitesnake or Air Supply.”
“So I just describe her bosom and list off a few flowers?” I inquired.
“Aye,” Bonar said. “And I’d include comparing her arse to something ye admire.”
“Like aged rum or horse racing?” I questioned, wanting to get all th
e correct information.
“Aye,” Bonar replied. “I’d be happy to write yer love letter for ye, Captain.”
“You would do that for me?” I asked, humbled by the offer. As I wasn’t close to my family, these arses had become like brothers to me over the centuries.
“I would die for ye, Captain,” Bonar replied. “I can write ye a love letter. Do ye happen to know any Whitesnake tunes?”
“No, I don’t,” I replied a bit worried. “However, I do know a few nursery rhymes.”
Bonar wrinkled his brow and silently debated the merits of me singing Three Blind Mice, or else he was constipated. I wasn’t sure, so I waited patiently.
“T’will be fine,” he announced with the authority of a Pirate who had wooed many a floozy. “Sing soft and in her ear. Gets the wenches quite randy.”
“Will do,” I said, feeling more confident. I’d known none of these handy wooing techniques. This was going to be easier than I’d originally thought. I would read the love letter, then sing Three Blind Mice, and then reveal my pecker. Simple.
Thornycraft raised his good hand and waited his turn.
“Yes, matey?” I said.
“Captain, may I be so bold to offer ye one more piece of advice,” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“Ye should make her a nice meal and light a few candles.”
“Why would I do that if I read the plagiarized love letter, sing, and show her my Johnson?” I asked. It was now getting complicated. And Thornycraft was missing most of his fingers, which disqualified him from having expertise in the lady department. If he couldn’t keep his digits, how in the Seven Seas could he woo a wench?
“Because ye love the lass,” he replied. “If ye love her, ye should feed her. Me mum says so. Also, yer supposed to ask her questions about herself.”
“Can I talk about me?” I asked. I was my favorite subject.
“Of course,” Thornycraft assured me. “But make sure for each thing ye brag about yerself, ye ask her a question about herself. Dinner and conversation. Me mum knows all.”
“You still talk to your mum?” I asked, scanning the deck of the ship to see if my own mum was watching over me like my drunken sot of a father had warned. If the stalker was here, she hid herself well. Letting my chin drop to my chest, I sighed. Fate had been cruel. I could have used my mum’s advice at the moment.
“Aye. I Skype with her every third Wednesday. She’s a pain in me arse, but I love her,” Thornycraft admitted.
“The thieving peg-legged shite has a fine point. Me mum would say the same—love note, song, tent pole reveal, food and conversation,” Bonar agreed. “Just stay away from the beans. Can get a bit awkward.”
“I feel you,” I said, nodding my head and silently thanking Poseidon for sending me such brilliant men even if the green-haired bastard wouldn’t tell me who my mother was. “All right then, get to work men. I’ll be bringing my mate back to the ship for dinner. And keep an eye out for the Sea Hags.”
“Aye, Captain,” they said in unison.
“Does anyone know how to cook?” I asked as an afterthought. Normally, we just opened cans and dumped the contents on a plate. Somehow that didn’t seem like the best idea to impress Tallulah.
“Nay, but it can’t be that hard,” Upton said. “I’ll catch some fish and toss them in a pot.”
“Works for me,” I said. “Thornycraft, go ashore and invite Tallulah to dinner. Tell her I’ve come up with a new strategy on how to take down the Hags.”
“Aye, Captain, very crafty,” Thornycraft said and then dove over the rail into the ocean. “What time?” he called out from the crashing waves.
“Six o’clock,” I replied looking to the sun to gauge the time. Six o’clock would give me two hours to prepare. Perfect. “Bonar, get started on the letter of love. Upton, go catch some fish. I have a wench to woo.”
Life was good and I was winning.
I loved winning.
9
Tallulah
“What will you wear?” Madison asked as she flopped down on my bed and began sorting through my choices.
My pretty room looked like a cyclone had blown through. Clothes were everywhere and my sumptuous lavender silk quilt had been carelessly tossed over the seashell headboard. Jeweled flip-flops littered the floor and a few bikini tops were hanging from the sparkling crystal chandelier. It was a hot mess—just like me at the moment.
“It doesn’t matter what I wear,” I said as butterflies danced in my stomach. “Pirate Doug is a gaping ass. We’re going to discuss the Hags and how to get rid of them—that’s all.”
“Thought you already did that on the beach,” Misty pointed out with a wide grin as she settled herself next to Madison.
“We did,” I said and then groaned. “Do you think he assumes this is a date?”
“Well, he is an ass so assuming is right up his alley,” Ariel said with a giggle, entering the room with a clean and groomed Wally on her shoulder. “And apparently, he assumes that you’re his mate.”
“He is not my mate,” I insisted. “Can you imagine being tied to that… thing… for eternity?”
“That thing looks pretty impressive if his crotch rocket protector is anything to go by,” Misty said shaking her head and trying not to laugh.
“Look,” I said, pacing the room in a slight panic. “Pirate Doug is all sorts of pretty to look at and he’s hung like a horse, but he’s a thieving, untrustworthy jackhole too. He stole all of our gold coins for the love of everything fishy.”
“This is true,” Ariel said. “However, you haven’t been this affected by a man in I don’t know how long.”
“A century,” Madison stated.
“Yep,” Misty agreed. “You haven’t been interested in anyone since that sticky-fingered bastard was here a hundred years ago.”
“Not true,” I snapped, lying through my teeth. “And even if it was true, what exactly does that say about me and my taste in men?”
“Umm…well…” Ariel stuttered, biting back her smile. “It says you have shitty taste in men, but to be fair we all kind of go for the bad boys. Ol’ Pirate Dud is particularly bad, but he is hotter than lava in an undersea volcano.”
“I can’t,” I said on a long sigh. “He’ll make my life hell and I’ll have to kill him—which would be difficult and messy.”
“Not to mention he’s the son of Poseidon and heir to the throne,” Madison reminded me.
“And there’s that,” I hissed. “That randy son of a bitch would never keep his bits in his pants if he becomes the God of the Sea. I’d have to castrate him weekly. Not my idea of a good time.”
“But what if he was faithful?” Ariel asked.
“And what if great whites could fly?” I shot back.
“Have you seen Sharknado?” Ariel questioned.
“No. Why?”
“No reason,” Ariel replied with a smirk. “I’m just saying as much of a doucheroll as he is, he might actually be your mate and once you’re mated, his Johnson will only work for you.”
“And he’s hot,” Madison pointed out as she pulled a shimmering gold bikini top and a matching sarong from the pile.
“There are plenty of attractive men that don’t find robbing you blind amusing,” I pointed out.
“Yep,” Misty conceded. “Let’s make a pro and con list.”
“Let’s not,” I said. “I can already tell you Pirate Slug will not come out of it well.”
“You chicken?” Misty challenged with a gleam in her eyes.
“Are you a butthole?” I growled.
“Yep,” she replied with a laugh.
Ignoring my grumpy mood, Misty snapped her fingers and produced the shell and jewel- encrusted book we always used to make our most important decisions. Our dear sweet Mother had given it to us before she died many centuries ago. Even though the book was ancient, its magic was strong. It was still as sturdy and lovely as the day it was given to us.
“Pirate Doug doesn’t deserve to be in the book,” I said, getting nervous. What the hell was I going to do if the idiot came out on the pro side?
“All big decisions need the book,” Madison said as she cradled Wally in her arms and cooed at her.
“Even manwhores deserve a chance, hooker,” Wally squawked.
“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at the bird. “What did you say, Wally?”
“It’s not Wally, wench,” the bird said with an eye roll. “The dumbarse can’t seem to remember my moniker—although that’s not surprising considering it’s not my real name.”
“What is your real name?” Misty asked, clearly ignoring the fact that the foul-mouthed bird had called me a hooker.
“Promise not to tell?” Not-Wally questioned as she hopped to the bed and examined the pile of clothing.
“Promise,” we said in unison.
“It’s Janet,” she announced.
I bit down hard on my lips so I wouldn’t laugh. She was so not a Janet.
“Like ‘Damn it, Janet. I love you’?” Ariel asked in all seriousness.
“Is that hooker right in the head?” Janet asked.
“No. She watches a lot of movies. You’ll have to excuse her,” I said with a laugh.
“No worries,” Janet chirped as she kicked all of the ensembles off the bed except the gold one. “I’ve been living on that damned ship for fifty years. I’m used to idiocy that you wouldn’t believe.”
I stared at the parrot for a long moment. I was fairly sure she wasn’t a parrot at all, but it wasn’t exactly my place to point that out. If Pirate Doug’s fear of her was accurate, I would guess she could be quite violent.
Or maybe she loved Doug…
I didn’t like the little green monster that popped into my head and longed to deck the innocent bird. I didn’t like it at all. What the hell was wrong with me?
“So,” I said, picking up the pile of clothes off the floor so I didn’t have my hands free to de-wing Janet. “How long have you known Pirate Doug?”
Janet gazed back at me. I could swear she was grinning and could read my mind. Shit.
Tallulah's Temptation: Sea Shenanigans Book One Page 5
