Chapter One

      Port au Prince, Haiti, 1811

      Carlos gritted his teeth as the familiar burn of rum stung his throat. After weeks at sea he and his crew from the Venganza were taking advantage of time ashore. Port towns were always the same: rum, women and fighting, in that order. Life didn’t get much better.

      In the smoke-filled room,Carlos watched his crew as each man took care of priorities in his own way. They were all drunk and most had women on their laps, fondling or being fondled by expert hands. Carlos, however, sat alone. His woman, Sheila, was still on Venganza. She was a dark-skinned whore he’d met in Jamaica four months earlier and had taken with him. Sheila’s ability to pleasure Carlos far outweighed any superstition about a woman on board being bad luck. Sheila never had to be forced or cajoled. She was always ready and willing for sex. The insatiable woman drove Carlos mad.

      Sometimes Sheila drove her lover a little too crazy. Her appetite was so lustful she had a hard time being satisfied by only one man, even a man as virile and masculine as Carlos. It had happened more than once. Most recently Carlos had caught her fucking Raul, his first mate. Sheila had overstepped her bounds yet again as the captain’s property. As punishment she wasn’t allowed shore leave with the crew and was confined to quarters.

      The Venganza’s crew were feared by most and thus no men were needed to stand guard. The only person left on the ship with Sheila was the teenaged cabin boy. Port au Prince was notoriously rough and Carlos ha’d left Jaime on board to keep him safe.

      Carlos watched as his crew went upstairs one by one, each pulling a woman, or women, in tow. Some began pumping in the tap room beneath a doxy’s skirt until they were sweaty and spent. Seven scantily clad women were lined against the wall giggling amongst themselves. Their breasts were pushed up and overflowing their bodices. They had artificially red lips and bare legs were visible beneath their skirts, but Carlos resisted. There was something about Sheila that kept his interest. Sex with her was never boring. She was adventurous, even dangerous at times. She knew what she wanted and didn’t stop until she got it. That made her more desirable in Carlos’s eyes. He was tired of women who pretended after you handed them a coin. Carlos smiled to himself. He’d surprise Sheila and return to Venganza. He’d show her a little mercy. She was always wet for him. She was probably fucking her hand in desperation.

      Carlos felt his cock stiffen. Watching wasn’t as good as the act itself , but it always excited him. Sitting next to Carlos, Raul had a woman straddling his lap. Her skirts were pulled up her legs. Raul’s fingers dug into a dark cocoa thigh. Her bodice was opened and Raul cupped a naked breast with one hand as he hungrily sucked on her nipples. The wench giggled. Carlos watched the contrast of the pink penis slipping in and out of the black pussy. The girl moved up and down, gyrating her hips. She bit her bottom lip and her eyes fluttered behind their closed lids. Her bouncing changed to a desperate grinding as the first mate squeezed her butt, let out a choked sigh and ejaculated into her.

      Carlos stood up. He wondered how Sheila would show her appreciation for his cock.

      It was dark outside and the weather was unusually cool for September. Carlos ambled the short distance to the waterfront. A boy was collecting his night’s catch from the bottom of his rowboat. Carlos tossed him a coin.

      “Take me to my ship, boy,” Carlos said, his words slurred. “‘The Venganza.” Carlos pointed towards the vessel bathed in light from the full moon.

      The boy looked at the captain. He likely knew he wasn’t supposed to associate with pirates. He looked at the gold coin in Carlos’s hand. Fishing every night for a month would not bring that much. “Yes, sir,” he agreed.

      The boy steadied Carlos as he climbed into the small boat and pushed off. He easily jumped in and began to row. They covered the distance quickly.

      “Wait for me and there’’s another coin for the return,” Carlos said, reaching for a rope ladder hanging down the side of the ship.

      The boy looked thoughtfully at the drunken man as he grabbed the ladder on his third try. “I’ll wait,” he decided.

      Carlos clumsily made it up the ladder.