Greetings, gentle readers! We made it to the funny bad turning point, I'm very proud of everyone who lasted this long with me. Alas, I'm forced to change plans slightly: since chapter 14 is a fairly long one, I can't do a double feature on account of the post becoming long enough to try everyone's patience if I did. But fear not, for this chapter can stand on its own as one of the funniest damn things I've ever read.
Let's dip in, shall we?
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| This one needs no explanation either. Or at least it won't once you've seen the chapter. |
Chapter 14: Whirl and Dip and Spin and Splinter
Previously on Moonlit Obsession: after creepy asshole Stephen Burke made me very happy by getting injured during a raging sea storm, he made me very sad by surviving to torment me more. However, his awkwardly-named lady love Anemone Carstairs tended to him, which gave her an excuse to finally put her hands on some (not really) valuable spy intel in the form of a letter, about events in New Orleans getting eventuated by people named the Spider and De Vauban. I see the naming scheme in this book continues to be subtle and understated – but I digress. Burke and Anemone ended chapter 13 by agreeing to meet up for dinner so they can discuss the letter, and I'm tempted to make an "is that what they called it back then" joke because with their constant makeout sessions happening now, we all know there won't be much discussion happening tonight. Or eating.Chapter 14 starts by Anemone pacing in her cabin in her fanciest velvet dress, nervous about the impending smexing, and I get to hear about how her frock "displayed an almost indecent amount of creamy bosom". Please never say the words "creamy bosom" to me ever again. Thank you. Since she still thinks the gown belongs to Burke's mistress, Anemone wonders briefly if he has any feelings for her, and thinks about the L-word. No, not "lesbian", although that would make this story a lot more entertaining. Yes, Anemone thinks she's already in love with Burke, and I'm left scratching my head because she doesn't know a damn thing about him other than that he's a good kisser, that he has mood ring eyes, and that he seems to think consent is optional for sexytimes. (Please ignore the fact that we know better and are already aware he's an absolute dumpster fire of a person; let's work with what Sea Urchin seems to be thinking for now, since the Magical Amnesia Stick of Plot Convenience has taken care of her fear of Burke.) I've read books that took me longer to finish than the amount of time Anemone needed to fall ass over teakettle for Burke's dubious charms. Sigh.
Stephen Burke, Anemone thought with a rush of wonder, was the epitome of what a man should be.
I GOSH DIDDLY DING DONG DARN DISAGREE, DEAR
So after I gag on the lunch I already ate once, I'm treated to roughly a page of Sea Urchin singing Buffalo Burke's praises and thinking about how hot she is in the breeches for him, "tormenting her with the newness of her emotions." That makes two of us – the torment, that is, not the praising. God, no.
Despite her apprehension and my nausea, Sea Urchin readies herself for the approaching smexing and decides to go though with it, walking from her cabin to Burke's and knocking on his door with "quivering excitement". Please never say the word "quivering" to me ever again. Thank you. Even though Anemone expects him to be standing in the door as aflutter as she is, he just yells at her to come in... Dick. After seeing that Burke's busy working on charting the ship's course and barely paying her any attention, Anemone gets angry at how he doesn't immedately drape his manly form over her and goes to leave with a flounce. Try not to faint from surprise when I say this, but Burke easily restrains her and refuses to let her go. Then he apologizes for not paying Anemone due attention, and something rubs me the wrong way about the fact that he was so casual and dismissive with her and didn't even notice that he was clearly offending her until she said so. Power dynamics what? Oh, don't worry, we'll come back to that, but now we're here to point and laugh.
What had she expected? Stephen was not the kind of man to sink to his knees at her entrance, to dote upon her with flowery phrases and foolish poems. And she had never been the kind of woman to wish for such nonsense.
[Oculus looks up from the romance novel where the heroine straight up says she dislikes genuine romantic gestures because she's Not Like Other Girls.]
Hm.
[Oculus goes back to reading.]
Burke gives Anemone a "magnetic smile" when she apologizes for losing her temper at him, and now I just have the mental image of a bunch of tiny iron nails and steel pen nibs flying across the room to stick to his face. Anemone then reveals that she's an expert navigator, because of course, and Burke asks, "Is there no end to your talents [...]?" No. No, there really isn't. Except whenever she actually needs them. Anemone replies that she can't play the piano or do embroidery; on one hand I'm fainting from shock at her not pulling yet more mad skillz with zero plot relevance out of her hindquarters, and on the other hand I'm blacking out from rage at the constant Not Like Other Girls character shilling. Either way, I'm on the floor.
After Sea Urchin tells Burke that she was practically raised on the battlefield (that will never not be stupid) he distracts her by staring at "the sight of her breasts swelled above the aquamarine velvet gown". Swelled? Dear Lord, I think she needs a doctor.
Alas, all she'll get is the D
Alas, the tongue-flossing is interrupted when a crewmate appears with their dinner. Anemone is so happy that she quotes a poem over the table to Burke (I thought she didn't like– God, nevermind, I'm not sacrificing more braincells to this). Then she pours some wine and says she won't get drunk enough to disgrace herself or let him take advantage – cute or skin-crawling? You decide. Burke says this.
"Admit it, brat, I've been a perfect gentleman."
Sometimes I wonder about the Bizarro World where sentences like this don't count as immediate and violent self-contradictions. Also unless these two are into the kind of roleplay I don't ever want to hear about, "brat" is roughly on the level of "comrade" on the list of the least sexy things your manly love could call you.
As they wine and dine, flirt and smirk, Anemone asks Burke why he's in such a rush to track down the Belvidere, and he tells her about his buddy Johnny being imprisoned on that ship. Burke says he doesn't have a plan for freeing Johnny from the ship yet, but he wants Anemone's help to come up with one. God help that entire ship's crew if these two are about to descend on it with their super mega spy skills. As they discuss Johnny's imprisonment, Burke brings up the ship's hold, then asks Anemone why she's so obviously terrified of the thing. Turns out that when Anemone was four, some relatives of her tried to play a prank on her and locked her in a wooden chest for a few hours. Her remembering that trauma is conveyed reasonably well, but...
SUPER MEGA SPY!
...because I'm still left scratching my head over the fact that her serious claustrophobia seems to barely be a hindrance for her spying. I know she only does super mega spying and that doesn't require many braincells, but I've talked before about why this character trait makes no sense. Moving on.
Or at least I tried, but Burke decides to poke the plothole by pointing out that Anemone is a spy, and spies are generally not known for being exiled into wide open fields if they get caught.
"I've always made my business never to get caught!" she returned lightly, snuggling deeper into his arms. "Until you came along, that is."
SUPER MEGA SPY!
On principle. The Carstairs Family Handbook of Spying strikes again, I see.
Burke turns the conversation to sap by saying he'd never hurt her (it'd be romantic if I didn't have to mentally amend it with "again"), they exchange some inanities about him wanting to do the horizontal mambo with her tonight, he hugs her and "her breasts crushed against his chest" – ouch, they shit on Cecilia again because Anemone brings up Burke calling her ugly, and he says he regrets it because she's much prettier than Cecilia (will you STOP that?!), then...
Yep, here we go.
We have a three-page sex scene, but I love myself more than to try and recap that, so I'll only give y'all the highlights.
I gave the most ungodly snort-laugh in response to this one. I legit transmogrified into a horse for a second with that sound. Thank you for that experience, Ms. Gregory.
Please never say the words "heady textures of love" to me ever again. Thank you.
Then they kiss some more, he undresses her and I get to hear about the "rosy crests of her breasts", she pets his chest hair, and then they're naked. She tells him the L-word (sadly, it's still not "lesbian"), he licks her ear (ew) and I get to hear the words "firm mounds" in a sex scene. Thank you, Ms. Gregory. Then they go at it in the most boring vanilla way possible, until Anemone has... quite possibly the funniest orgasm I've ever seen in a book.
So after Anemone treats me to what I can only describe as Sexy Thesaurus Syndrome, and a description truly out of this world that sounds less like her coming and more like someone put her in the washing machine, they finish their hilaridiculous sex. With this.
Look, I know firsts are meant to be special (and I can't say this one wasn't because I'll never be able to get the words "erotic thrusts" out of my brain now) but he's really not "lovingly love forever with a loving heart" special, ma'am.
Anyway, once I'm done folding in half from laughter like a pair of freshly laundered pants, Burke says the L-word back at her and they celebrate by going on another carousel ride, then they fall asleep. When they wake up close to dawn, Anemone tells Burke that she's been thinking about who De Vauban might be, and as much as it pains me to do it, I can't help but agree with him when he laughs at her for thinking about spy things while butt-naked in his bed. He kisses her roughly, and this happens.
I trust I don't need to explain that one.
Anyway, Burke reveals to us that Jean-Pierre De Vauban is a French aristocrat from America who's deeply devoted to Napoleon, and that the Spider is a legendary double-triple-quadruple agent "working for several countries at once" and knowing what I know about the guy from the later chapters, I'm only half-joking when I say that even he probably doesn't know who he's working for at this point. Anemone, in turn, finally tells Burke that she's the daughter of Thomas Carstairs, and then I laughed very hard.
Every intelligence agent in the world knows who Carstairs is? Holy shit, how bad is this guy at his job?!
Unlike me, Burke is deeply impressed with the Carstairs Family Handbook of Spying, and gives his condolences to Anemone for her dad's death... only for her to immediately reveal to him that the old devil is still alive.
Didn't he specifically tell you in his letter not to tell anyone about that? I see the apple didn't fall very far from the tree, but it did hit every branch on the way down. Anyway, Anemone tells Burke that she's headed to New Orleans to see her dad, he grabs her, and...
Press F to pay respects.
Sea Urchin is obviously up for another round, so Burke pulls the blanket off her and looks at her with "his now midnight eyes" and oh my god I was KIDDING about him having mood ring eyes. Holy shit. They end the chapter by bumping uglies again, and I'm left to my own company, and – say it with me – laughing very hard.
Cheerio, gentle readers. I told y'all the fun bad was worth the wait.
Yep, here we go.
We have a three-page sex scene, but I love myself more than to try and recap that, so I'll only give y'all the highlights.
Heated pleasure shot through her when his tongue darted between her teeth, and she answered his erotic thrusts with her own.
I gave the most ungodly snort-laugh in response to this one. I legit transmogrified into a horse for a second with that sound. Thank you for that experience, Ms. Gregory.
[...] Anemone whirled into a fiery heaven, a golden-hot world filled with the lights and scents and heady textures of love.
Please never say the words "heady textures of love" to me ever again. Thank you.
Then they kiss some more, he undresses her and I get to hear about the "rosy crests of her breasts", she pets his chest hair, and then they're naked. She tells him the L-word (sadly, it's still not "lesbian"), he licks her ear (ew) and I get to hear the words "firm mounds" in a sex scene. Thank you, Ms. Gregory. Then they go at it in the most boring vanilla way possible, until Anemone has... quite possibly the funniest orgasm I've ever seen in a book.
It is wonderful! Anemone thought on the brink of that shattering pinnacle. It is magnificent!
And then she could not think at all, but only whirl and dip and spin and splinter.
And then she could not think at all, but only whirl and dip and spin and splinter.
So after Anemone treats me to what I can only describe as Sexy Thesaurus Syndrome, and a description truly out of this world that sounds less like her coming and more like someone put her in the washing machine, they finish their hilaridiculous sex. With this.
She and Stephen were one, and all the love poured out of her heart and she knew she would love him forever.
Look, I know firsts are meant to be special (and I can't say this one wasn't because I'll never be able to get the words "erotic thrusts" out of my brain now) but he's really not "lovingly love forever with a loving heart" special, ma'am.
Anyway, once I'm done folding in half from laughter like a pair of freshly laundered pants, Burke says the L-word back at her and they celebrate by going on another carousel ride, then they fall asleep. When they wake up close to dawn, Anemone tells Burke that she's been thinking about who De Vauban might be, and as much as it pains me to do it, I can't help but agree with him when he laughs at her for thinking about spy things while butt-naked in his bed. He kisses her roughly, and this happens.
"Now, what were you saying about De Vauban, my darling?"
"Wh... who?" Anemone whispered dazedly.
"Wh... who?" Anemone whispered dazedly.
SUPER MEGA SPY!
I trust I don't need to explain that one.
Anyway, Burke reveals to us that Jean-Pierre De Vauban is a French aristocrat from America who's deeply devoted to Napoleon, and that the Spider is a legendary double-triple-quadruple agent "working for several countries at once" and knowing what I know about the guy from the later chapters, I'm only half-joking when I say that even he probably doesn't know who he's working for at this point. Anemone, in turn, finally tells Burke that she's the daughter of Thomas Carstairs, and then I laughed very hard.
"Every intelligence agent in the world has heard of him!" Stephen threw her a look of amazement.
Every intelligence agent in the world knows who Carstairs is? Holy shit, how bad is this guy at his job?!
Unlike me, Burke is deeply impressed with the Carstairs Family Handbook of Spying, and gives his condolences to Anemone for her dad's death... only for her to immediately reveal to him that the old devil is still alive.
SUPER MEGA SPY!
Didn't he specifically tell you in his letter not to tell anyone about that? I see the apple didn't fall very far from the tree, but it did hit every branch on the way down. Anyway, Anemone tells Burke that she's headed to New Orleans to see her dad, he grabs her, and...
In the long look that passed between them, Thomas Carstairs was forgotten.
Press F to pay respects.
Sea Urchin is obviously up for another round, so Burke pulls the blanket off her and looks at her with "his now midnight eyes" and oh my god I was KIDDING about him having mood ring eyes. Holy shit. They end the chapter by bumping uglies again, and I'm left to my own company, and – say it with me – laughing very hard.
Cheerio, gentle readers. I told y'all the fun bad was worth the wait.
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