Uncaged Read online

  With two slits for eyes, furrowed beneath bushy white brows, the captain stalked toward the sailor who already held his head down as if preparing for a tongue lashing. “Look at me, lad!”

  The young man’s head snapped up. Bruce thought he saw him shaking as he clasped both hands around the barrel of his rifle. The poor sailor was only dressed in skivvies, long red skivvies only buttoned half way. “Did you check in on the beast last night?”

  The man looked from the captain to the deck.

  “Look at me!” the captain bellowed.

  The sailor kept his head down, but raised his eyes. Bruce was now positively certain that the lad was shaking. His rifle was knocking against the deck.

  “Pray tell me you checked on the bloody beast!”

  The sailor shook his head. Bruce thought the captain’s head might blow off. He’d never seen a face so beet red. He looked more like a purple onion than a man with such a mess of scraggly white hair blowing about.

  “Step forward if you were on watch last night!”

  Not one soul moved.

  “Now!”

  Four men stepped forward, all of them just as frightened as the previous sailor.

  “Which of you checked in on the beast while on watch?”

  None of them answered.

  “None of you? Do I have a crew of complete bloody fools? Who saw the cage loaded?”

  One sailor spoke up. “I saw the beast as it was being hauled on deck.”

  “Did you help load it?”

  “No, Cap’n. Some slaves hauled him on board.”

  “Has anyone checked in on the cat since we set sail?”

  Bruce enjoyed the show, particularly since the beast was himself and had outsmarted everyone on board. No one answered the captain. Not one person had checked on the cat and only one claimed to see him carried on deck.

  “Well there’s no sense in prolonging this any further. Clearly, the cat was left behind. I don’t know what you saw, bloke but it wasn’t a caged beast. It was likely an empty cage. We’d have known by now if the cat was loose.”

  The captain paced, stopping only to scratch his head and to eye the ocean as if he were looking for something out in the vast, blue waters. The half dressed sailors watched and waited as the ship rocked to and fro.

  The captain broke the silence, twirling around to face his men. “I wouldn’t put it past the scoundrels to load ’im and then replace ’im with an empty cage the night before we set sail. I’ll take part of the blame but not bloody all of it! We hunted that beast down and caught ’im fair and square. They stole ’im from under our noses and now they’ll get more than a shilling for their efforts. We don’t have enough rations to go back, but we’ll return soon. We’ll get the cat back and the head of the men who took ‘im, mark me words!”

  Bruce seethed. They would never cage him again and if he had anything to do with it, they would never touch another cat, whether it be a shiftie like himself or his brother.

  Ye gods! He’d never thought of that. My brother could be next!

  “Back to work!” the captain hollered.

  No one noticed Bruce. His half naked body blended in with the other men who had been rushed out of bed. He would lay low all day, even work as a shipmate if he had to and tonight he would look for the woman. He would ask her how long until they reached land and learn all he could about the expedition.

  ~*~

  Bruce fell asleep, hidden between two hefty crates near the northern deck, where the shadows grew longer and blacker. He even managed to steal a loaf of bread and some ale. The first time in ages since he had eaten something other than raw meat. The alcohol quickly took effect, lulling him into a deep sleep, but something roused him, something delicate and enticing.

  He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with thick thumbs. The black night sky was scattered with millions of twinkling stars. He sniffed and then smiled. The woman was near. Her scent wafted through the sea air like honeysuckle dancing on the wind. She stood overlooking the bow of the ship. Her skirt whipped around her dainty ankles. She was barefoot. Never had Bruce known a naked pair of feet to look so erotic. A deep throated growl emanated from within. He shook his head in an effort to yield the wild creature within. Luckily the wind masked the noise. Rising and stretching, he made his way to her side, stomping across deck to alert her of his coming. He didn’t want to startle her and cause her to cry out. She turned when she heard him approach, greeting him with a half smile, her lips curved on one side.

  “Good evening, sir,” she said, turning to face him fully.

  His eye caught the gleam of a topaz pendant, nestled between her full breasts. His cock stiffened at the sight, pushing against his newly acquired breeches. Breeches that suited his size perfectly, until now. He took her hand and kissed it. The scent of her burnished skin drove him mad with desire. He shut his eyes.

  “Out for another smoke, sir?”

  “Aye. I couldn’t sleep. Are you feeling better today, miss?”

  “A bit. Thanks to you for inquiring,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Father is in a tizzy. All the fuss about the caged beast never setting sail with us.”

  Bruce smiled. A sweaty lock of his long, blond hair fluttered against his sun burnt forehead. He worked on deck all day, pretending to be a crewmate. He even helped repair a torn sail. No one had been the wiser.

  Bruce grunted. “Don’t see how a beast that size could be carried off without notice. Sounds an oddity for certain.”

  “Father says the slaves must have taken him back off the ship the night before we set sail.”

  “Does he really think they went to all that trouble and then carried an empty cage back on board?”

  “Aye, sir. A lion will fetch a pretty price. He’d make a fine attraction at the fair, bringing in loads of money. The slaves most likely took him back to their master while the cat was still full of sleeping potion. There was never no need to carry back an empty cage. Now the master can sell him for whatever price he wants. According to Father, they tracked that particular beast for weeks before catching him.”

  Bruce doubted that. He’d have sensed the men or at least caught a whiff of their scent. He’d been taken totally by surprise. “Seems particularly cruel to me,” he added.

  “Aye. To me too, sir. Reminds me of my mother. She’s no different from the lion. She’s been captured, bought and sold again. Cruel, indeed.”

  Wren looked up at him, seemingly noticing him for the first time. “Why did you say you were in Africa?”

  Bruce cleared his throat. “I didn’t.” He could think of nothing other than the slave trade and then the perfect answer came to him like a flash of lightning. “I’m with the House of Lords.”

  Wren wrinkled her nose. “A solicitor? Surely you jest, sir. You look nothing of the sort.”

  Bruce was insulted. “I don’t look smart enough?”

  “You seem highly intelligent, sir. It’s just that….”

  Bruce cut her off. “What then?”

  Even with her dark coloring, Bruce saw her blush.

  “You just seem altogether too much man for such a job. You’re so virile. You seem more suited for the outdoors. I find it altogether impossible to picture you seated behind a desk, scribbling down law onto paper.”

  She fancies me, then?

  Bruce stuck his chest out. So, the lady found him attractive, handsome perhaps. This he could go with.

  “I’ll have you know, miss, I am an astute member of Parliament. There’s much talk of abolishing slavery. I’ve come to investigate the matter further and take my vantage point back to my fellow solicitors.” When he’d lived in London, there had been much debate on the issue.

  Wren nodded. “Forgive me, sir. I didn’t intend to insult you.”

  “You’re forgiven. It was an honest mistake and besides, what man doesn’t like to be considered virile by a woman such as yourself?”

  Wren dipped her head into the shadow of his looming chest. He
was afraid he had embarrassed her or perhaps she didn’t believe him. With one finger, he tipped her chin up. “You think I only flatter you?”

  Wren frowned. “My father is a terrible man. What is it you want to know? I care not for his love. He cares not for mine.”

  Bruce stared at her before speaking. She was so lovely, so honest. It made his heart ache to see her living with such a man. “I know enough of your father, Wren.” He watched her face in the moonlight, sensing her distrust. “I want to know you.”

  Wren smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “Why? I am only the captain’s blackamoor.”

  Bruce touched her cheek with the back of his hand and shook his head. “No, Wren. You are the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen. I’m quite smitten with you.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t come out here for a smoke?”

  Bruce laughed. “You would be correct.”

  “You came to see me? To speak with me?”

  He nodded. “Aye. I fancy your company.”

  “You do?”

  Bruce nodded again. He took one of her hands, holding it between both of his. Closing his eyes he sighed.

  “Perhaps you’ve been in Africa too long.”

  He grunted. “Much too long.” His eyes snapped open. “May I kiss you?”

  Wren’s mouth fell open. He licked his lips, never taking his eyes off hers, beseeching her. Wren smiled. “You may.” She closed her eyes and waited.

  Bruce watched her heavily lashed lids flutter shut. He sensed a small amount of fear. He could smell it, but she wasn’t frightened of him. It wasn’t adrenaline he caught a whiff of in the night wind. It was pure lust. Unhinged, full frontal arousal from a woman of her quality. His cock poked and throbbed against his stiff breeches as his hands took possession of her face. She gasped. Her eye lids fluttered open and then shut again. Her lips parted. He moved closer, feeling her sweet breath on his wet lips, drying them with her heat. He kissed her. The sensation rocked him, spiraling down into his belly and into his legs, making every hair stand on end. His tongue probed her delicate mouth. She moaned softly, opening for him. She stuck her tiny tongue into his mouth, unleashing a growl. She yelped against him.

  He pulled her to him, molding his mouth to hers, slanting their kiss, sucking on her tongue. She moaned deeper, bewitching him with seductive, slow kisses that heated him from within, sending shivers along his neck and spine. Bruce groaned when she moved closer to him, molding her body to his. He felt the pulsing beneath his breeches. Bruce steadied himself. It’d been forever since he’d seduced a woman. He’d half forgotten. Instinct told him to turn her around and enter her from behind. It took all his powers, from both gene pools to reign the beast that yearned to buck the beauty he held in his arms. He really intended to kiss her only once. He had no idea she’d feel this glorious, this soft, this needy. Bruce shook. He wanted to shift but didn’t know why. He certainly couldn’t bed her while in cat form.

  She palmed his chest, fingering the tiny buttons of his shirt. She found his nipples and rubbed them with the heels of her hand. Bruce sucked in a heated breath. She pinched them. He pushed her hands aside and yanked the shirt open. She dragged her mouth away from his, trailing kisses across his jaw, down his neck, past the pulse throbbing in his throat.

  She tongued his nipples. He watched her. Watched as her pink tongue flicked and licked at the swollen nubs. Goose bumps rose on his chest. His cock swelled when she bit him and suckled with a hunger he had forgotten existed. She moaned softly as if she were enjoying her delicacy. He clutched her silken hair and pulled her face to his, kissing her fiercely, his tongue diving, tasting. Their teeth clinked when he slanted his mouth to hers, wanting more closeness, more togetherness with a woman he’d only met one day before. Blinding lust rushed through his veins, blacking out all reason.

  The wind picked up. The sails above them flapped in the breeze while salty waves slapped over the deck, spraying them, cooling their heated skin. Bruce swept her off her feet and pulled her onto his lap where he positioned himself over a large crate covered by a tattered sail. Her ass perched atop him. He unleashed a growl before burying his face in her cleavage. The jewel embedded between her breasts was hot against his lips as he nibbled and sucked around it. Wren arched her back, tossing her head into the wind, letting it blow her tresses behind her.

  Bruce freed her breasts. Full, dark mounds filled his hands and mouth as he took one nipple in his mouth, sucking fiercely. Wren cried out, her passionate song mingled with the howling wind. A tall wave leapt over the side of the boat, soaking them both. Wren screamed in surprise and then laughed out loud. Bruce only growled at the sight of the half naked, wet lady in his arms.

  He pushed her to the edge of his lap, unlaced his breeches and pulled her back to him. A mischievous grin curled around her delicate face, awash with passion and desperate need. Bruce’s heart went out to her. He lifted her skirts, grabbed her waist and lowered her onto him in one swift move. Wren gasped. Another wave of water tumbled over them as he sliced into her again and again. She molded herself to him, humming, licking her lips. Bruce loved the way his cock fit into her, so snug, so tight and so bold. She rode him while the ship rocked and swayed, a beautiful melody of wood creaking, waves splashing and Bruce grunting. She wrapped her legs around him tighter, gripping the mast that he leaned upon. With her arms over her head he had full access to her wet, heavy, swaying breasts as they slapped at his chest and face, only making him drive into her with more passion, more force than he thought was possible.

  He felt the first tremors of release cinch around his swollen cock. Two more thrusts into her velvety smoothness and he’d lost himself, spilling into her his seed, his unleashed desire and his loyalty. Wren’s body rocked just as his began to still. She cried out into the night. He held her closer as the glorious spasms of quenched passion shot through her. Her necklace slapped his cheek as she rode him to the highest point of her release and then she collapsed onto him. Long, dark tendrils clung to her face and breasts. He peeled them off one by one as her breathing returned to normal. She sighed as he kissed her shoulder and pulled her to him. Even the ship found calmer waters as they clung to one another, two strangers no more.

  Chapter 3

  London, England - The Sea Lass Docked at The Thames River

  Bruce and Wren leaned over the railing of ship, watching the last of the wooden caskets carried off the ship and onto dry land to await their families claim. Usually the dead would have been tossed out to sea, but many had died just days before landing. Bruce thought it only proper to turn the dead over to their families for a fitting burial.

  “How many we have lost to tuberculosis and scurvy, Bruce? Their poor families! Such a deadly voyage this has been!”

  Bruce sighed as he pulled her closer, thankful he had ordered her to lock herself in her cabin until docking. “Forty at last count.”

  Wren pointed to two sailors carrying the captain out on a stretcher, moaning in pain. “There’s father.”

  Bruce nodded, noticing the sores covering his face. If only the bastard would kick off soon enough. He hated the man and wasn’t surprised when his ailment hadn’t upset Wren in the least.

  “I must congratulate you on keeping the ship afloat, sir.”

  Bruce kissed her forehead and breathed in the scent of her, along with a healthy gust of salty air. “I had no choice, darling. More than half the men on this ship are barely a day over eighteen. They needed someone who could dole out orders. Otherwise, they would have panicked and made the situation worse than it was already.”

  “Don’t be so modest, Bruce,” Wren giggled. “You’re a natural born leader. I have you to thank for keeping us all safe.”

  “Nonsense,” Bruce replied, smiling down at her, squinting in the bright sunshine. “I have you to thank for all those glorious nights.”

  Wren giggled as he wrapped both arms around her, hugging her to him as he kissed the top of her head. Bruce thought of their nights togethe
r and how much his life had changed since leaving Africa. He thought of their first night on deck, making love as waves spilled over them both and the countless other nights locked in one another’s arms. Nights full of passion, longing and desire that he had forgotten existed in a man’s world.

  If anyone understood true hunger it was Bruce Remington. Life in Africa was harsh during times of drought. He had survived two long seasons with scarcely enough to feed a cub. He also knew loss. Loss of the greatest kind. Love, pure and simple. The ache it had left was unbearable. He knew without a doubt that had he access to a pistol in those days, he would have done himself in. He had longed to stumble across a king cobra and meet his death, but fate would not have it. He had thought his lioness was his one true soul mate, but she was not. It pained him to realize it and he refused to allow it to darken his memory of her, but she was destined to die. Just as his capture was set in the stars so he could meet his one true mate. He’d given up trying to understand the why, the reason. It tormented him to ask. Wren was human and he was a shiftie. Clearly he would out live her and they would never experience the thrill of the hunt together or make love in the wild, beneath the stars with the heart of the jungle wrapping itself around their lives like a beating drum. He doubted he would ever go back to Africa. Not now. Not without Wren.

  ~*~

  Bruce was not completely surprised to see the tavern just as he had last seen it. His clan was a strong force in London, though many of his kind chose to move off elsewhere to live only as animals. He walked inside and sat down at the bar. He smiled when he saw her. She had not changed a bit he noticed as she filled a mug with ale.

  “How ‘bout a drink, madame?”

  The woman turned to face him, slapping the mug down on the counter, scattering the thick foam across the aged wood. “Bruce! My God! I never thought I’d see the likes of you again! I thought you were in Africa!”

  Bruce leaned over the counter, planting a big kiss on her plump cheek. “Amelia, can we talk privately?”