Free Short Story: Becca's Faux Honeymoon, Part 4 by Neale Sourna

Atlantic Ocean near Ireland, 1680s

Faux honeymoon. That was the phrase scurrying around her mind; this time together, sailing, locked in his quarters, lying flesh to flesh in his bunk. Curse him, smirking whenever she called a wall a "wall" not bulkhead, the window "window" not port, and his comfy bunk a "bed."

"Are you listening? Aidan?" He stretched his big body and quirked one drowsy eye open.

"I'm happy and contented, woman, can yah not leave it at that?"

"But I-I know so little about your world, and it is quite a different world, fascinating, all open air and freedom. Granted, I've not been … 'topside,' is it? But…. Oh! What do your men know? Not that I care, as they're not gentlemen, and really, aren't sailors a kind of servant, except those the crown holds in service as virtual slaves, but they'd…. What? Why do you stare at me so?"

"You're quite energetic after bed-ridin', aren't yah?" She shrugged.

"Well, saucy sir, it HAS been a while, since…." Her incredible face saddened, and a part of him

was jealous of her hidden, longing memories of another man.

"You never took a lover, after you were widowed?" She frowned, plainly he'd hit a sore point.

"No. Not 'after' or 'before' nor during. My love, when given, is quite chaste. Surely you understand. I saw the relief on your face when I returned your silver cup."

She saw him wince, then she glanced at it now, it sat across the room in the place of secure honor, where he must plainly be able to see it directly before him whenever he sat to work. Was there another term for a sailor's desk, she'd have to ask, but later, as the cup practically sang in the light that reflected brightly off it like a fierce angel's....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/becca-04.html

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Free Short Story: Becca Gets Her Sea Legs, Part 3 by Neale Sourna

Atlantic Ocean, Ireland; 1680s

"It's not fair," Becca moaned between gulps, of drinking a watered wine concoction, and promptly vomited, again. Aidan wiped her face, and then she fell back into his bunk, and watched as his hammock, which, though pulled to one side, swayed with the rocking of his ship. Damnable pirate. This new world of his would not be still.

"Utterly not fair."

"Your new husband, who you jilted your wedding night, pretending to be sick, so you'd not have to accommodate him, as per your full wifely duties, and then dashing away to me and sea, I think he'd say it was your just desserts, skittish girline."

"I doubt he'd say 'skittish,' perhaps something starting with an 's' and 'l.' And don't say 'desser‑'." And she hastily draped herself over the edge, and nothing came. A wholly unattractive way to spend one's time with one's new lover.

"More?" He proffered the drink and she shook her disheveled head and groaned with pathetic intensity, as he....http://www.romantic4ever.com/romantic-fiction/becca-03.html [short story chapter]

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