Their sweat kept clinging to their skin as the pungent smell of sex kept permeating the hot air around them. Their breaths, after their physical exertion, were already slowing down but their sated smiles still remained on both of their lips.

He was lightly touching her hair, slowly caressing her red tresses, an hobby he deeply cherished that sadly could much less frequently rejoice and only in time like this, when they were alone and she was content enough to let him amuse himself with this bollocks, as she defined them. She rested idly by his side, barely covered by the thin bed-sheet, with her head on his naked torso. "What was that?" she asked him with something very similar to incredulity in her voice.

"I've always done that!" he piquantly replied, nearly outraged by her astonishment.

"Not like that!" she insisted, but this time he could hear the grin in her voice.

"Darling, let a poor man keep his secrets. Would you?" He acknowledged, softly kissing her head and enjoying the tranquility of the moment, relaxing after a quite fatiguing performance for him. She remained silent for a while, playing lazily with his necklace, her fingertips barely caressing his skin and making him shiver. A few calm minutes passed and then suddenly he felt her stiff.

"Is that that one?" she hissed, lifting from his chest to look fully at him, full of loathing.

"Uhm? Which one what?" he stammered sincerely puzzled by her question.

"The one with the large tits?" she grunted, defiance in her eyes.

"I… don't know what you're talking about." He stumbled on his words, part because he really had no clue as to what she was referring to and part of it because the cotton sheet slipped from her body and his eyes fell on her very naked bosom on their own accord.

"Are you fucking her? Does she please you more than me, mmm?" she demanded, bending forward towards him still lain on the bed. It would have been quite seductive if her voice and her expression weren't ones of murder. "Did you eat her like you just did me? Tell me, how does her pussy taste like-"

"Jesus H. Christ, Anne! What the fuck are you talking about?" he begged bedazzled by her ferocity, barely rising from the bed, both elbows upheld on the mattress. "I'm not fucking anyone but you, especially not my employees! What brought such a ludicrous thoughts into your mind all of a sudden?"

"You just did, you fucking shit!" She fumed and that made him crumble almost instantly.

"Alright, I confess. I asked her some tips as to how to… please you... after my disgraceful debacle last week. And she was kind enough to explain to me one thing or two about you women! And let me tell you, my dear, that for being a fucking whore she was such a copious advocate of the fine art of cunnilingus that I had to feign a rush of belly-ache to shut her up!"

She seemed quite taken aback by his explanation and muttered "You asked for help. From a whore. To learn from her how to please me." She inquired and he swallowed, didn't replying a thing. "How did you manage to ask without befooling yourself?"

"I kindly asked, as his patron and current employer, what would she do to attract more female customers to our brothel considering quite a group of our usual clients went away with Captain Flint chasing the Urca de Lima and while they're gone we wouldn't certainly want to see our profits diminish too much, wouldn't we…"

"And she did believe you?"

"Not for one bit. No." he replied, nearly holding his breath, afraid of her response.

After a moment her face relaxed a bit and she lightly smacked him on the chest. "Idiot." She mumbled and then retook her place on his torso, hugging him to her more than usual, apparently liking his confession.

He calmed down and took a deep breath, assuaged by her show of jealousy but kind of glad that it subsided quickly with none of his manly bodily parts injured. He removed a strand of hair from her neck and naked shoulder and started to lightly caress her smooth skin again, gaining a soft moan from her. They remained like that for some time, enjoying each other's company in silence, gently touching one another.

"Is this the life you wanted?" he asked in a low voice, almost in a whisper. She didn't answer so he continued "I mean… This brothel, the life on soil. Sometimes I fear I might have screwed up, Anne. This is not the life I promised you when I fetched you away." She sighed lightly, her hot breath making him shiver nonetheless. "Surely every sensible Captain on this shit of an island would piss gold at the mere idea of having you on their crew. If you ever grow tired of this fucking bog just choose a ship. Tell me a name of a captain and I'll make sure it happen. When they'll come at your feet begging you to join them just tell them you would prefer if old dear Jack came with you and we'll get the hell out of here together. I'll offer even to swab out the piss buckets if nothing better suitable to my peculiarities should show up. Just tell me what you want and I'll do it, love."

"I trust you, Jack." She simply stated, as if only those three words could disperse all of his paranoia.

"Do you, still?" he asked quite unsure, gently lifting her face with two fingers under her chin to gaze into her eyes.

A silent communication passed between them and, understanding the source of his doubt, she just remarked, point blank "I go where you go, Jack."

Jack smirked and said "Well, Nassau isn't that bad after all. As far as Lady Guthrie keeps hold on this place."

"The Cunt does good in here." She mumbled fondling his torso with her nose, in an affectionate way.

"Yes indeed, she does. For the moment…" he agreed absentmindedly, stroking her back maliciously and showing her some more of what he had learnt.