Beyond the Horizon

by Bea Paige

  “No. You’ve been working all day. Go sit down. We’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” Lola says. “You can spend time getting to know Malakai better.”

  What? Fuck. No.

  “He’s here too?” Ma Silva asks, the smile gone from her voice.

  “Of course. I thought it’d be nice to catch up. All of us.”

  Lola, ever the welcoming type. I’m beginning to regret telling her about this island. Adjusting my crotch, I try to think of anything but Connie and her deep blue eyes.

  “Perhaps Connie should help us after all?” Ma Silva offers.

  “Yes, sure, that’s fine,” my Little Siren agrees.

  My. Little. Siren? Fuck.

  “Don’t be daft. Go sit,” Lola shoos.

  I draw in a deep breath, blowing it out quickly when I sense Connie enter the room. I daren’t look at her. I can’t look at her…

  Don’t fucking look.

  “Hi, Malakai…”

  That damn voice and the way her tongue wraps around my name, caressing it, makes me think of sweet, torturous things. I grunt. Staring ahead of me. My hands are folded in my lap over my twitching dick. This is fucking ridiculous. She hovers in the doorway and I know I’m making her uncomfortable, but I can’t seem to help myself.

  “How’s your finger? Did you see Dr Fuller or did your ambidextrous skills sort it?”

  “It’s fine,” I snap at the laugh in her voice. Though right now my finger is hurting like a bitch given I’m squeezing my hands together over my crotch trying to cover the fact I’ve got a semi.

  “That’s good…”

  She moves into the room, clearly encouraged by my two-word answer. I should’ve just ignored her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her take a seat in the chair to my left. She’s wearing a red summer dress. It floats around her mid-thigh, the soft material grazing over her bare legs as she gets comfortable in her seat. Shit.

  Don’t fucking look, Malakai.

  Keeping my gaze firmly fixed on the empty fireplace opposite, I let the silence grow. Maybe she’ll get uncomfortable and leave so that I can breathe again.

  But she doesn’t leave.

  She fucking stares at me.

  I can feel her gaze, hear her soft breaths grow shallower as she runs her eyes over every inch of me just like she did yesterday in Ma Silva’s kitchen. Knowing she was coming, I’d purposely dressed down, making no effort whatsoever. I’m wearing my oldest denim jeans that are worn and frayed around the knees. My white t-shirt has tiny holes in it from overuse and on my feet I have my leather flip flops that will likely fall apart on the walk back to my boat.

  But you would think I was dressed up in an expensive tailored suit given the way she’s staring at me.

  For fuck’s sake.

  She needs to get the fuck out.

  Or I do.

  I consider getting up and doing just that. Then I think of Lola and how I’ve treated her, and don’t. So I remain stuck in my seat, willing myself to calm the fuck down.

  Connie doesn’t try to fill the silence with small talk. She doesn’t utter a single, solitary word, but her silence says so fucking much. I’m acutely aware of the motion of her fingers as they pluck at the hem of her dress as though itching to play an instrument. I heard from Lola that she plays guitar, that she sings. What sweet fucking torture.

  I’m in Hell.

  Along the hallway I can hear Ma Silva and Lola laughing at something then the sudden scurry of feet. A second later a black Labrador puppy comes running into the lounge and heads straight for Connie, jumping up onto her lap, its front paws pressed against her shoulders as it attempts to lick her face.

  “Eww, Baxter, get down. Bad boy,” she laughs.

  Lola didn’t say she had a dog. Where’s it been hiding for the last ten minutes, since I arrived? The puppy waggles its tail, its whole body moving with excitement. Despite my surprise at seeing the dog, I’m more distracted by the fact that its enthusiasm has made Connie’s dress ride higher up her legs, flashing me her underwear.

  She’s wearing white lacy knickers.

  White. Lacy. Knickers.

  My cock swells painfully.

  “Down!” I snap.

  The dog jumps off her lap and sits its arse down on the floor, it’s tail thumping loudly as it looks at me with its big brown eyes. But I’m not looking at the fucking dog, nor did I mean for it to get down. My gaze zeros in on her slightly parted legs, and the slash of white that taunts me between them.

  “Down!” I repeat.

  The dog cocks its fucking head but neither me nor Connie move.

  She doesn’t move as I stare and stare and fucking stare. Her knickers seemed to be moulded to her pussy, a little dent where her lips meet. I’m not a religious man, but right now I’m praying to the Lord Almighty to save my sorry arse.

  My mouth waters. My fingers itch to touch her, to trail over her skin and the red marks the dog has made on her thighs with his claws when he clambered on top of her.

  Yet, I stay fixed to the spot trying with all my might not to give in to my desires.

  Slowly, painfully, I drag my gaze upwards. Her nipples peak behind the thin material of her dress, the spaghetti straps a slim strip of material against her skin. Her fucking freckles are a star constellation across her chest that I want to stare at all damn night. My gaze meets hers and the breath she’s holding releases in a rush.

  “I said, down.”

  I’m fully aware of the tone of my voice, the rumble of vowels and consonants that spill out of my mouth like stones tumbling down a cliffside. I’m barely restraining myself from doing something really, really stupid.

  Her cheeks flush a deeper pink, her mouth parting on another rapid intake of breath. Then slowly, painstakingly slowly, her fingers grasp the hem of her skirt and she slides the material lower.

  I can breathe again, just.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Lola calls.

  The dog’s ears prick up and it scampers out of the room. Its attention on Lola now he thinks he’s the one getting fed. But despite Lola’s call, and the delicious smell of lamb and fresh mint, neither one of us make any attempt to get up.

  She stares at me. I glare at her.

  Tension stretches out between us.

  Footsteps head down the hall, and a beat later Lola pops her head around the door.

  “I said dinner’s ready,” she grins, looking between us with amusement.

  “Good… I’m starving,” Connie replies, so softly that I almost miss it.

  But when she looks at me, I don’t miss the hunger in her gaze.

  I don’t fucking miss that.

  Nine

  Connie

  “Are you sure you don’t want any help cleaning up?” Grandma asks Lola after we finish up our pudding of nuts, berries and honey laid on top of the sweetest, lightest meringue. Lola really is an amazing cook.

  “No, not at all. You get off home now. I’ll sort it out in the morning. Plus, I need to head to The Shack and get set up for the evening. Customers start arriving in about twenty minutes. I should really get going,” she replies, waving Grandma’s offer of help away.

  “Well, okay. Thank you for having us. Dinner was delicious.” Grandma looks over at me and for the first time all night I manage a smile too.

  “Yes, thanks Lola,” I say, dabbing at my lips with a napkin.

  Across the table from me Malakai is scowling, as usual. He’s looking down at Baxter who seems to have taken a shine to him. The sweet puppy is looking up at him, waiting for scraps. Not that he’s got any given Malakai wolfed down every morsel as though he’s the one who’s starving…

  “Good, I’m starving…”

  I can’t believe I said that. I mean the words were innocent enough, but the meaning… I meant something entirely different and he knew it. That flash of desire. I didn’t imagine that. It was there, right there in the swirl of his emerald eyes.

  Jesus, that one look had my clit throbbing.

&
nbsp; My clit has never throbbed. Even when I touch myself, it’s never throbbed like that.

  This feeling… it’s dangerous.

  And just for a moment back in the lounge I was convinced he felt it too.

  But when I look at Lola, at the happiness I see oozing from her in his presence, I know that I must be mistaken. I see how she looks at Malakai, the gentle smiles she gives him, and I feel guilt slice through my stomach. He’s not mine. He’s hers.

  “Mine,” I murmur, only realising I’ve said that out loud when Malakai’s head snaps around to face me.

  “What?” he demands.

  I shake my head. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

  Yet why do I feel like it’s everything? Why do I feel like this is exactly as it was meant to be? Why do I feel like he knows that too even though he’s distant, caustic, cold?

  Because when he allows himself to look at you the way he did, he feels the connection too, a little deluded voice in my head taunts me.

  “Connie…?” My grandma’s gentle tone draws me out of those dangerous thoughts.

  “Yes, sorry. Are we going now?” I blurt out.

  That sounded really ungrateful, like I’m desperate to get out of here. Truth be known, I’m scared to stand up and join Grandma who is currently hugging Lola, readying to leave. I’ve never felt more turned on. The ache between my legs has been building all evening.

  In the lounge he had stared at my thighs, at the space between my legs. At my lacy, flimsy, knickers that I’d chosen just for him.

  And I let him.

  Those knickers are wet with my desire.

  “Ah, yes, I’m keeping you. Your friends returned from their trip to the mainland today, didn’t they?” Lola asks me.

  “Yes. Alice texted me just before we got here. They’re desperate to tell me about all the fun they had,” I explain. Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to face their enthusiasm about a world I’ve no desire to see or be a part of. I’m not sure I have the energy to pretend I’m interested in anything beyond this island I adore.

  “Kids and their fun,” Malakai snorts flippantly, glaring at me.

  Back to that I see. Not that he was very amenable during dinner. He chatted well enough with Lola and Grandma, but he ignored me the majority of the time.

  “They want me to meet them at The Shack tonight, actually,” I respond, bristling because I know he’s lumping me in with that term too.

  Kid.

  Little girl.

  I’m neither. I’ll show him.

  “Great.” Lola smiles.

  “A night of fun sounds good.” I remark, pushing back at Malakai, allowing the innuendo to hang in the air between us.

  Lola smirks, winking. “Jack is quite the handsome young man.”

  Malakai’s glare hardens. Pretty sure he’s just growled too, or maybe that was the dog?

  “Yeah, he is,” I agree, because it’s true, he is handsome. He’s also not my type in the slightest. That night we spent together proved that to me. “I’ll come back with you, help you set up.”

  “Awesome. We’ll have Malakai to protect us from the big bad wolf.” Lola winks, oblivious to the rising tension between us. Grandma, however, doesn’t miss it, which comes as no surprise.

  “He is the big bad wolf…” I mutter under my breath, quiet enough that no one hears me.

  “It’s still light out,” Malakai points out, folding his thick arms across his chest. “And you have a car. You don’t need me to chaperone you anywhere.”

  Lola waves her hand, laughing. “Oh, stop spoiling my fun, Malakai. I was just joking. I’ll drive us back to the harbour after I drop Ma home. Then you can get an early night sleep on Princess. It might alleviate your grumpiness.”

  “You’re not staying here with Lola?” I ask, instantly regretting it. It’s none of my business where he sleeps or how they choose to conduct their relationship.

  “I like to sleep on my boat,” Malakai says, frowning when he looks at me. “Besides, there’s no point in getting comfortable, I won’t be staying on this island for long anyway.”

  I want to ask how Lola feels about that and whether she’ll be going with him, but of course, I don’t.

  “Well, I’m ready for bed, that’s for sure. It’s been a long day, wouldn’t you agree, Connie?” Grandma asks looking at me expectantly. I know she’s testing the waters. She’s seeing if she still has control over me even though I’m an adult. I internally roll my eyes.

  “I’ll make sure Jack brings me home at a reasonable hour, Grandma,” I state, not entertaining an argument with her. I’m not a child anymore and I’m not about to let her set a curfew and make a fool of me in front of Lola and Malakai. Besides, this is a small island with only a couple hundred people living on it. None of them are people I need to fear. Jack was right when he said nothing exciting happens here. Until recently, that is.

  I chance a glance at Malakai who is looking angrier by the minute.

  Grandma purses her lips, nodding. “I guess youngsters these days have far more energy than I give them credit for.”

  “You could say that again. All this energy needs an outlet. Letting our hair down at Lola’s Shack is a great way to expend it,” I remark, with more than a pinch of sass.

  Grandma snorts and Lola chuckles, instantly slamming her mouth shut when Malakai glares at her.

  “Great, am I going to be forced to listen to a bunch of teenagers screeching around the harbour and hurling their guts up all night long?” he complains.

  “You could always sleep here? Save you from seeing things you shouldn’t,” I suggest, smirking. It’s the last thing I want to say, but I can’t help but goad him. Two can play this game.

  “Maybe I’ll do that,” he snaps back.

  Lola chokes on her drink. “Sure, if you want?” she questions, clearly not expecting that response. Weird, I thought she’d jump at the chance. Imagine all the hot sex… actually, that’s a real bad idea. Jealousy churns my stomach.

  “This is your home, not mine. I prefer the boat.”

  “Seriously, Malakai, if you want to move back in…” she offers, looking at him with hopeful eyes. Jesus, if they start eyeballing each other with fuck me eyes I might just have to hit something.

  “I told you, I’m not staying long,” he says.

  “Well then, you’ll just have to put up with a bunch of kids having fun, won’t you?” I say before I can stop myself. He scowls and I hold back a smile.

  Is it wrong that I love rubbing him the wrong way? The truth is, on the few occasions I’ve gone to Lola’s Shack with my friend, I’ve sat outside watching the moonlight glint off the water rather than get in the thick of all the fun inside. Getting drunk on my eighteenth birthday was the first time I actually let my hair down and totally regretted it the next day.

  I’m not really a party animal.

  Though he doesn’t need to know that.

  “You better not come home inebriated, young lady. You’re not too old to put over my knee,” Grandma warns, causing my cheeks to flush. What the fuck? She’s never put me over her knee. Ever.

  “Damn straight,” Malakai mutters. Arsehole.

  “I’ll be perfectly behaved,” I smile sweetly, flashing a look at Malakai that says I’ll be anything but, then turn my grandma. “I’ve got work in the morning. I’ll be back by midnight, I promise.”

  “Okay,” she agrees, despite her obvious reluctance.

  “Well, that’s settled then. Let’s head out.” Lola whistles for Baxter who comes bounding into the kitchen from the garden after he slipped outside a moment ago. “Sorry, buddy, I’m heading off to work. You keep this place guarded for me, yes?” Lola says as she crouches down and accepts Baxter’s wet kisses. He yips a couple times in response, making us all smile, except Malakai. Smiling isn’t something he does very often, I’ve established.

  Ten minutes later we pull up at the harbour after dropping Grandma at home. Already there are punters gathering outside The Shack w
aiting for Lola to arrive. Amongst them are Jack, Alice and Georgia. When I get out of the car and greet them, I make sure to hug Jack a little longer than I would normally, knowing Malakai will see. Childish, perhaps, but I don’t care.

  When we pull apart, Georgia’s staring through the gap between us. From the look on her face, I know who she’s spotted.

  “Who, in all that is sexy and sinful, is that?” she asks.

  Alice and Jack follow her gaze as Malakai accepts a kiss on the cheek from Lola, his gaze full of unbridled anger. He’s looking directly at me.

  “Well,” Georgia prompts, nudging me with her elbow.

  “That is Malakai Azaiah Dunbar. He’s Lola’s boyfriend.”

  “Malakai Azaiah Dunbar?” Jack snorts. “What kind of bullshit name is that?”

  “He can be called Derek for all I care. He’s hot,” Georgia remarks, finally finding her voice.

  I shrug my shoulders. “He might be hot, but he’s an arsehole.” An arsehole that makes my skin burn, my knickers wet, and my heart crash inside my chest. An arsehole I’ve secretly claimed as my own.

  Alice laughs, side-eying me. “Looks like life on the island just got interesting.”

  Yeah, it looks like it has.

  Ten

  Malakai

  I’ve been lying on my bed tossing and turning for the past couple hours. Even rubbing one out hasn’t helped my attitude any or relieved me enough to get a good night’s sleep.

  She’s still on my mind. More so given I imagined it was her hand wrapped around my cock instead of my own.

  “Fuck this…” I grumble, slamming my clenched fist against my mattress. “I just need to get laid.”

  I’ve been at sea too long. I’ve been without a woman’s touch for even longer. This is just the consequences of ignoring my needs. Problem is, there really isn’t much choice here. Lola is out of the question. She’s my friend and I won’t cross that line with her, and as far as I can tell there are more fishermen than women.

  You only want one woman, Malakai, a little voice inside my head goads me.

  “God damn it!” I slam my head back on the pillow. “She’s a kid. She’s Annabelle and Blake’s kid. No!” I yell, then slam my mouth shut when I hear someone step onto my boat.