Personal Log of Octavia E. Pye
Wednesday, February 24
Midwatch: Three Bells
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“If I was to kiss you right here, what would you do?” I opened my eyes and looked at Jack as he hovered over my left knee. “Probably moan.”
“Would that be a good moan, a ‘he’s kissing his way up my legs and will soon sup at the gates of my own personal paradise, making me squirm and writhe and become a true believer in the power of o******x’ sort of moan, or a bad moan, a moan that indicates you’re in pain and just want to be left alone to sleep?”
“Unfortunately, it’s a bad moan, although I don’t want you to leave me. And indeed, I don’t have time to sleep.” I made an effort to sit upright in the rather uncomfortable inn bed, and swung my good leg over the edge. My wounded knee protested at the very
