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“When we take off your boots, your ankles will be chafed,” he predicted.
“When you take off my boots?” Alexis spat at Rod. “Just when do you think that is going to happen, Black Bart?”
“Sometime before midnight….” he declared with conviction.
“Arrogant as always, King Rod.”
“You can be our Queen Isabella,” he replied. “Together, we will rule the night. Make our way across the world in my Ship of Rhapsody to my Island of Paradise.”
“Sorry, Columbus.” She shrugged. “At the stroke of midnight, I revert from an enchanted princess back to a scullery maid. And my car turns into a pumpkin.”
“Did you know Cinderella was French, not English?”
“I fail to see what that has to do with anything, Rod.”
“I am sure you are very submissive, just like a French maid.” His eyes smoldered like hot embers. “Very submissive, indeed. Just how I like it.”
Her limbs felt languid. Both men were so close to her now, Zane behind her and Rod in front, sandwiching her between them so she couldn’t escape. Even if she wanted to.
“Or do you prefer being the serving wench?” Zane asked as he ran his fingers through her hair, the gentle caress contrasting against the harshness of his words. “Chained to the bed for hours and days at a time, succumbing to your Captain’s every whim?”
Rod cupped her face on either side and ran his thumbs from the corners of her mouth across her soft cheeks.
She refused to acknowledge the preposterous question.
“You don’t like to be gagged,” Rod surmised, “with a ball or a scarf…” His breath smelled of cloves and cinnamon. “Only with a cock.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” she lied.
“You are no vegetarian,” he called her bluff. “And you love having a dick rammed down your throat.”
“Such a foul mouth you have, Rodriguez.”
“Such a fine, beautiful mouth you have, Alexis.” Zane placed his arm loosely around her neck and ran his thumb across her lips.
“After midnight, I’m sure you’ll both turn back into frogs.”
“Are you saying we’re princes now?”
Damn, he got her.
“Swindler, charlatan, alchemist,” she said, regaining her footing. “Huckster, costermonger.”
“Costermonger?” Rod laughed. “Is that a Shakespearean insult?”
“Hornswaggler, rapscallion, scalawag…I could go on all night.”
“Yes, let’s go on all night,” he trapped her with her own words.
Her mouth snapped shut.
How did they always get the best of her? At work, she and Rod were pretty evenly matched, but with Zane on his side she was outnumbered.
“The doctor is multi-talented. A scientist, a literary scholar, and a historian,” Zane complimented her. “A true Renaissance woman.”
“Humph.”
“Let’s go back to your pirate fetish,” Zane smirked.
