He has not been sure of how bare she might wish to be, or how private; the way she lets her shirt fall to the sand makes it a little more clear. Once in a while, on the ship, he catches a pirate looking at her in a way he doesn’t like… if one of those pirates were to come across them now and leer at her sweet bare breasts, he might run them through. They have enough swords sitting around them, don’t they?

But her breasts are bare and they are sweet, and so close to him, and he misses the feeling of her warm, soft skin against his. So he pulls back and pulls the shirt over his head, and then pulls her into his arms again.

“Breeches won’t be so easy, love.” He breathes the words against her cheek between kisses. It’s better for her not to wear skirts on the ship, but the reasons why are the same reasons her breeches are troublesome now.