Pierce
She does continue to provide the most delectable view, something his heavy lidded steel continues to survey her as her clothes remain to hang off of her shoulder. It’s calculating again, not that it had entirely left, but Pierce had certainly been distracted prior to that his gaze had softened for that brief moment.
It’s a conscious reason that he doesn’t tell her how he found them. Once again like a cat and mouse, and as she requests something to drink, he prowls around the edge of the table toward a barrel in the back of their little offshoot. His strong muscles flex as he pops the lid off, reaching in and grabs a bottle of some aged liquor, returning and popping the cap off to hand it to her. “What kind of pirates don’t also smuggle liquor?” He teases, a dark brow rising as he braces in front of her again.
“And yes. There is a chance.” As for what the tide could do? A soft snort leaves him. “There’s also a chance we could drown.” He nearly purrs, his lips quirking back into that smirk, head tilting slightly. “What a thrill.” He says it in a sigh of dramatics, that deep baritone rumbling only for her ears.
His gaze traces along the edges of her skin and finally lift to her face, a dark curl hanging over one of his eyes. “I get this distinct feeling that you like thrills.” Why else would she be there with him?
It’s a conscious reason that he doesn’t tell her how he found them. Once again like a cat and mouse, and as she requests something to drink, he prowls around the edge of the table toward a barrel in the back of their little offshoot. His strong muscles flex as he pops the lid off, reaching in and grabs a bottle of some aged liquor, returning and popping the cap off to hand it to her. “What kind of pirates don’t also smuggle liquor?” He teases, a dark brow rising as he braces in front of her again.
“And yes. There is a chance.” As for what the tide could do? A soft snort leaves him. “There’s also a chance we could drown.” He nearly purrs, his lips quirking back into that smirk, head tilting slightly. “What a thrill.” He says it in a sigh of dramatics, that deep baritone rumbling only for her ears.
His gaze traces along the edges of her skin and finally lift to her face, a dark curl hanging over one of his eyes. “I get this distinct feeling that you like thrills.” Why else would she be there with him?
