Two Captains, One Chair: An Alaskan Romantic Comedy

by Marlow, Shaye

  Then I got dressed in my sheerest, shortest pink baby doll nighty complete with push-up bodice that made me look like I had boobs. Sparkly necklace to dangle into and draw the eyes to the newly-created cleavage. Dainty little heeled sandals. Panties, I conveniently forgot.

  I even made myself up. Eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss to make my lips wet and kissable-looking. I gathered up my courage, and peeled off the Band-Aid, so it didn’t ruin the effect. The cut was healing nicely, I discovered.

  Finally, after coming downstairs and finding Mimi doing unspeakable things to Ed’s leg, I pushed my goat out her door, and locked it behind her. Then I sat down in a chair in front of Ed, crossed my legs, and settled in to wait.

  After all that screwing around, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Ed’s eyes fluttered open. He looked dazed. Disoriented.

  I waited until some semblance of sense had started to seep into those lovely hazel eyes. He looked around, and it appeared he was recognizing my cabin. Then his shoulders bulged as he tugged at his arms, and realized they were tied.

  His gaze shot to me.

  I smiled, uncrossed my legs in an extremely indecent manner, and stood up.

  He looked stunned, but it was no longer just from the tranq dart. He was taking in my attire. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he dragged his gaze from my face, past the tiny scrap of sheer satin and lace I was wearing, all the way down to the peep-toe that revealed my toenails were electric blue today. And sparkly.

  “So. Ed,” I said. I really, really wanted to maintain my poker face, but my smile couldn’t be contained. I had him just freaking exactly where I wanted him, and neither of us would be running away. Not this time.

  He swallowed again, his eyes stuck to the spot where my negligee in no way concealed the outline of my nipples. “Yeah?” he rasped.

  “I was wondering if you could help me with something,” I said. I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, going for mockingly guileless.

  His gaze met mine. “Sure,” he said. He did it in his innocent nice-Ed voice, as though I was soon going to forget that he’d threatened me with a sandwich.

  I stepped closer, just between his knees. Gary had decided tying his ankles to the chair would be wise. Personally, I’d laughed at the idea of Ed trying to squeeze the life out of me with his legs, like that Russian James Bond lady… but I deferred to Gary’s superior people skills. Ed was an unknown, he outweighed me by a hundred pounds, and we didn’t have a chaperone, so I couldn’t be too safe.

  I reached toward Ed, and fingered the first button of his shirt. “You see,” I said, “I’ve got this mystery I’m trying to solve. A couple mysteries, actually.”

  “The gold nugget,” Ed said, swallowing again when the back of my knuckles brushed his neck. His first button slipped free, revealing an inch or two of his undershirt. Like I said, way too damn many clothes.

  “Yes…” I brushed my fingertips along his skin just above his neckline for a moment, smiling when I felt his shiver. Ed was lots of things, but unaffected was not one of them. Inwardly, I rubbed my hands together in anticipatory glee. “…and the other one, the one I’m focusing on right now, is that of the dual-personalitied Ed and his merry band of kidnapping guides.”

  “Mmm,” he said. He seemed very distracted by what I was doing to his buttons, and his eyes were super-glued to my chest.

  But he was still nice-Ed, and I wanted to see bad-Ed again. I wanted to see the one that had gazed up at me with those dark, promise-filled eyes, the one that’d loomed over me, trying to scare me off.

  I yanked his shirt the rest of the way open, making buttons fly.

  His chest tensed up, his pecs making an impression on the thin white cotton stretched over them. I licked my lips, looking over my newest obstacle. I could push that shirt up, but it would only go to his armpits.

  I’d rather just have it out of the way. Giving him a little smile full of promise, I crossed to my knife drawer, and pulled out my kitchen shears.

  Now I had his attention, as I moved back in front of him holding the big scissors. I flexed my fingers a few times, watching his expression become just a little apprehensive. That’s right, I thought. Scissors cut sandwich.

  I lowered my shears to within a bare inch of his crotch, and could have heard a pin drop in the resulting silence.

  “Sure you don’t have anything to tell me?” I asked.

  He shook his head. He wasn’t even breathing, his eyes following those scissors as closely as if they were a poisonous snake.

  I made the first snip up through the center of his shirt, revealing a couple inches of his tensed-up abs. I made the next cut, and the next, watching his face, his eyes, enjoying unsettling him.

  If nice Ed were just a two-dimensional Nice Ed, I might feel bad about this. It’d be taking advantage, torturing him, stepping up to a point where he couldn’t meet me. But I’d seen the other Ed; I knew he could handle it, and I honestly doubted he’d snap.

  Only one way to find out for sure.

  I tossed the scissors aside and spread the halves of his shirt apart. As I’d noticed before, Ed was built. He had a wiry strength, spare and perfectly proportioned. His pecs weren’t overly bulky, but they were firm and well defined, and he had a double row of abs marching down his flat abdomen.

  He had a damn cute belly button, I noted. I wanted to dip my tongue into it.

  I looked into his eyes, which had narrowed somewhat on me. There he is.

  I smiled lazily at him. I put a single fingertip in the dent between his collarbones, and started to trail it down his chest. “So. You’re going to tell me,” I said, “just exactly what I want to know.”

  “You think you can get me to talk?” he asked. He seemed amused.

  I leaned in farther, until my mouth was a whisper away from his. “I can get anyone to talk.”

  He searched my eyes. “I believe that,” he said, as his muscles jumped under my touch.

  For someone with so much beard, he had surprisingly little hair on his body. I’d expected him to have a pelt under all those clothes, but he didn’t. His skin was soft, just a shade or two darker than mine, and it stretched in the most glorious way over a whole lot of firm man.

  “So we can do this the easy way,” I suggested, as I smoothed my fingertips over the abs I’d been admiring. “Or—”

  “Or we can do it the hard way?” Ed asked, a wry twist to his lips.

  “Yes.” I slid my hand into his lap, and squeezed him through his jeans. He was already hard, and way more than a handful. I started to breathe a little faster, a heady cocktail of excitement brewing inside me. I swayed toward him in a momentary lapse of self-control.

  He shifted under my touch, and from his expression, I could tell that Bad Ed was in the house. “I think I prefer the hard way,” he said.

  That look on his face was pure challenge, and it made me burn.

  I went for his fly, and his abs rippled as I slid my hand under the waistband of his underwear. He sucked in a breath as I wrapped my hand around him. I held him, feeling his hardness, his size, and watched his eyes flood with heat.

  I pulled his waistband aside, and transferred my gaze. His cock was circumcised, and smooth, and rose several inches from his lap. In my few fumbling experiences with sex with clothes on, there hadn’t been much left sticking out to work with. But it didn’t seem like that would be a problem here.

  “I’m kinda small,” I said, trying and failing to wrap my hand around him.

  His mouth worked, and finally he was able to push out words. “You don’t say,” he said. His eyes fluttered closed as I rubbed the sensitive spot at the base of the head.

  “Yes. It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” I said in my innocent voice, watching his face. I squeezed him, then paused. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what I want to know?”

  “Jesus, if it’s going to make you stop, I would never.” His chest heaved, and his hips moved subtly, pushing him into my hold.

&n
bsp; “What if…” I slipped my hand away “…I’ll only continue if you give me something.”

  His lids lifted and he looked at me from beneath his lashes. “You are very cruel.”

  I licked my lips. “C’mon, tell me what you’re up to,” I coaxed. “Gimme a little tidbit. Some unimportant detail.” I cupped my breasts, rubbing my hardened nipples through the silken material. I moaned as tremors of sensation ricocheted through me, and the covetous look in his eyes drove me higher.

  Hell, maybe I should just go get one of my vibrators…

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “Just put your hand back on me. Please.”

  I did, and he shuddered. “Well?”

  “I have a secret,” he admitted.

  I rolled my eyes. “More,” I said. I pushed my hand into his underwear, cupping his balls. I rubbed the warm skin with my thumb, feeling it shift and tighten in my hold.

  His head rocked back, and he seemed to be hanging from my touch, breathing in rhythm with my strokes. His breath caught when I tugged lightly.

  “More,” I urged.

  He groaned, and his eyes opened, focusing on me. “It has to do with gambling,” he said.

  “Gambling?” That was one of the last things I’d expected to hear. “Please tell me I’m not torturing you so you’ll fess up to some private salmon derby.”

  “Torturing?” He laughed.

  I shifted my hands back up to his shaft and squeezed him again, making his laughter cut off.

  “No, no salmon derby. Please, continue your torture.”

  I slid my hand into my bodice and retrieved one of my breasts. He went quiet as my pink nipple came into view. It was about at his eye level, and fit perfectly into my small hand. He wasn’t looking at anything else as I rubbed and teased and squeezed the soft white flesh. My nipple was pouting at him, and he’d started to lean forward, doing a very good impression of me when I’d tried to kiss him earlier.

  “You want a taste?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. Please,” he said, his voice deepened and raspy. I loved how free he was with that word. Every time he used it, I felt a giddy heat expand through me, softening me to his demands.

  I had to be careful here, and remember who was tied up. And who was in charge.

  I crowded between his knees, and leaned forward slowly, offering it to him.

  I gasped as he captured my nipple—and most of my breast, really—in his mouth. I imagine he would have grabbed me and yanked me against him if he could. I half-fell into his lap, and the effect was the same.

  I braced my hands on his shoulders, seeing stars as he did wicked things with his tongue. “Oh…” I was panting, capable only of looking down at his thick dark hair, seeing my pale flesh disappear into his mouth, feeling the tug as he sucked.

  I groaned, my nails digging into him. I wanted to give him the other breast. I wanted to untie him and see what he could do with his hands. I wanted him to take me right here on my kitchen floor, just toss up my little pink skirt and push that thick cock deep into the pinkest parts of me.

  But I couldn’t. Because I need info, I told my desperately horny self.

  Pulling away from him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. He groaned a protest, and looked up into my eyes, and we were totally on the same page. The same paragraph, even. Maybe even the same word.

  “More,” I said.

  “That’s what I’d like to give you,” he growled. “If you’d just come back here.” Nice Ed had been thoroughly banished, and this one squeezed his knees around my thighs, trying to tug me closer.

  “Details,” I elaborated. “Give.”

  “Fuck,” he said, looking hot and bothered and frustrated because I’d tied him up, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about me withholding my nipple.

  Why did I like it so much when he cussed?

  “Suzy,” he panted. “Baby. I can’t tell you. I simply can’t do it. You’re a gossip. You have a loose tongue. You’d be a liability to the business. You’d get us caught, and then we’d be shut down. Not to mention ‘prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law’. But if you just bring that beautiful breast of yours back over here, I promise, I will pleasure you to the fullest extent of—”

  I grabbed his head, and looked straight into his eyes. “You listen to me,” I said. “I can keep a secret. Hell, Gary’s gonna ask Helly to marry him on the Fourth of July, but have I told anyone? No.”

  “You just told me,” he pointed out, as the corners of his mouth crept upward.

  “Yeah, but you won’t blab.”

  “Like hell I won’t. If you don’t untie me, I’m gonna tell everyone.”

  I frowned at him. “I’ve got you tied up. You’re supposed to be trying to convince me to let you go. Don’t you think what you’re saying is counterproductive?” I asked, throwing his own words back at him

  He made a moue of disgust. “You suck,” he said.

  “I could,” I replied.

  He swallowed hard.

  “So it’s a business, huh? A gambling business. Tell me more,” I said.

  Then I dropped to my knees.

  “Oh holy fuck,” was what he told me. He wiggled on the chair, straining against the ropes.

  I smiled because cussing was good. Cussing meant he didn’t have this situation under control. Cussing meant he was worried.

  I kissed his knee. Then the other. I smoothed my hands up his thighs and moved between them. My bare breast rubbed against the rough material of his pants as I leaned in.

  I caught him in my hands again, noticing he was even bigger, even harder than the last time I’d touched him. A bead of precum welled at his tip, making my mouth water. But this was my trump card, and I had to be careful how I played it.

  “What else do you want to tell me?” I asked him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  I smiled. He was definitely worried, throwing out things he hoped would divert and distract me. But, at this point, I had what some would probably call a single-minded focus.

  I flicked out my tongue, and licked around the crown of his cock.

  “Jesus God! Fuck!”

  “You want more?” I wanted to give him more, so at this point it didn’t really matter what he wanted. Though I suppose, if he started screaming rape, I’d have to let him go.

  But he didn’t cry rape.

  Instead, he said “Please!” and nudged his hips toward me.

  “Spill,” I said. The feel of his cock was making me wet, the soft skin that moved slightly over his rigid hardness as I rubbed him. He throbbed in my hands.

  I wanted him inside me. One way or another.

  He gazed at me through slitted eyes. “You’re a hard woman.”

  “And you’re a closet thug,” I said. “Now tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give you what you want.” I rubbed my lips down his shaft and back up, nuzzling him.

  He shook his head, the movement hard, as though he were telling himself ‘no’ as much as me.

  I licked off the bead of precum that’d been teasing me. I licked him a few more times, drawn in by the taste of him, the catch of his breath, the way his thighs tensed under my hands.

  “Suzy,” he groaned. I loved the sound of it, like it was being dragged from his depths, a ragged, desperate plea.

  Looking up into his eyes, I sucked him into my mouth. I slid down on him. Then farther, until he was pressing into my throat.

  He was watching me as I took him, and I didn’t gag, and I think he got my point. His eyes had gone glassy, his cheeks were dark, and his breath heaved. His muscles rippled as he tugged at his restraints, and a fine sweat had sprung up across his chest. He wanted me so badly, I could feel it, like some relentless magnetic pull.

  I pulled up, caressing him with my tongue, and then plunged down on him again, taking frickin’ all of him.

  “Oh, shit. For the love of… Suzy,” he moaned. “Suzy, Suzy.” He gasped as I slid up again, and squeezed his head between my lips. I reach
ed up and scraped my nails gently down his abdomen.

  He jerked, and his shoulders strained, and if it hadn’t been a sturdy chair, I would have been screwed. When he opened his eyes again, they were on fire. “On my lap,” he barked. “Now.”

  I grinned and pushed to my feet. I retrieved a condom, rolled it on, and moved to straddle him. I gripped his shoulder, and boosted myself up.

  He was watching me, his eyes dark. “You’re killing me,” he said, and I got the distinct impression things were going to be different when he got his hands free.

  I smiled and rubbed myself over him. If he hadn’t been wearing the damn condom, he could have felt how wet I was for him. I slid back and forth over him easily, swollen open and ready. My excitement reached epic proportions as he nudged against my entrance.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s going to be a tight fit,” I said, my voice breathless. I squeezed his shoulder.

  His pupils were so deep and so dark, they seemed to see into my very soul. “Take your time,” he said, dragging the words out.

  “Oop, that sounds like nice Ed,” I panted. I pressed down slightly, feeling the stretch as he started to push inside. I groaned, clutching at him.

  “They’re both in here, Suzy,” he said. “But if you’d prefer, I could tell you how deep inside your hot little pussy I want to be, right fucking now.”

  I whimpered, torn. I wanted him, with a madness. I wanted to sink down on him ‘right fucking now’, feel his thick cock filling me up, grind against him, and scream out in completion as the inevitable fireworks went off in my head…

  But I also wanted his secrets. “What I prefer,” I said, still poised at the tip of his dick, “is for you to tell me what I want to know.” Torture, I reminded myself. I’m torturing him, not pleasuring myself.

  “I can’t,” he said on an explosive breath. His eyes were desperate, his skin sweaty. His hips bucked under me, and I shuddered as I took the first wonderful inch of him.

  I closed my eyes for a second, searching inside myself for control. I wanted to sink down on him the rest of the way so badly I was shaking with it.