Beyond the Horizon

by Bea Paige

  “Hey, Malakai, wanna come for a drink, mate?”

  It’s Rob.

  No, I fucking don’t. I want to get off this island and far, far away from Connie goddamn Silva.

  “Let me buy you a beer?” he questions, stepping down uninvited into my boat. I grind my teeth, so I don’t tell him to fuck right off.

  “I’ve got an early start,” I lie. More like I’ll lose my head if I walk into Lola’s Shack and see Connie, but I don’t tell him that.

  “Just one beer? I could use the company of someone who isn’t one of my crew. I love those guys, but I spend every day with them… Besides, I’m gonna need some help making sure none of those arseholes go after Connie and her girlfriends.”

  “What?!” I snap, launching myself upright. “They better fucking not!”

  Rob laughs. “You might not have noticed but there aren’t many eligible females on the island and now that you’re back, Lola’s taken and isn’t available…” his voice trails off and his body language tells me he thinks he’s overstepped the mark. Frankly, Lola could’ve shagged the whole damn island for all I care, she’s her own woman, and certainly not mine. Still, I don’t correct him. If he thinks Lola and I are together then that’s just fine, it covers up the fact I’m hankering after a kid half my age, for fuck’s sake. My blood is already boiling at the thought some other motherfucker might be after her.

  “Give me a second to grab my shoes,” I reply, pulling on my work boots before stomping down the aisle. “Let’s get that beer.”

  Rob chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “Thirsty after all?”

  I glance at him. “You’ve no idea.”

  In the two minutes it takes to walk to Lola’s Shack, my attitude hasn’t calmed any. I’m seething at the thought that another man might be trying it on with Connie. When we reach the shack, the place is heaving and my stomach drops. The thin walls are practically vibrating with the sound of music pumping through the wood and boisterous merriment, and by merriment I mean drunk arseholes acting like dicks. How the fuck Lola gets away with this, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure selling alcohol without a licence is illegal. Still, as far as I’ve been able to establish in the short time I’ve been here, the one and only police officer is retired and there’s no current replacement. I don’t think anyone is going to tell on her either. I get the distinct impression that Lola is very much loved by the island dwellers. Figures. She’s very likeable.

  “Budweiser okay?” Rob asks me as we step inside.

  “Yeah, that’d work,” I respond, my attention immediately drawn to the three girls surrounded by several sweaty, thirsty fishermen, and by thirsty I don’t mean for beer.

  Motherfuckers.

  Rob notices my scowl. “I’ll have a word,” he says.

  Nodding tightly, I step into the shack, sliding my back against the wall and take my measure of the place. Lola is behind the counter, pulling beers from a fridge and handing them to a guy I recognise as one of Rob’s crew. When Rob reaches him, he leans over and says something into his ear, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. The guy nods in understanding. He makes his way through the crowd, towards Connie and her friends. I can’t help but notice the way he stares at Connie who, so far, hasn’t noticed I’ve entered the shack.

  She’s waving her arms in the air, swaying in time to the music. Her eyes are pressed shut, her hair plastered to her head, a sheen of sweat covering her skin. I catch glimpses of her between the crowd. Her mouth parts, her pink lips moving as she sings along to the song.

  Like everyone else, I’m mesmerised.

  Fucking mesmerised.

  Despite the volume of the music, I swear I can hear her sweet, but powerful voice. The lilt of her accent, it’s slight and only noticeable to someone like me who’s spent more time away from this island than living here. I’m transfixed, unable to take my eyes off her even if I wanted to.

  She’s beautiful.

  Terrifying.

  A living siren in the flesh.

  She calls to me. To that part of me I thought I buried deep down inside. She awakens something I thought I’d never feel again in this fucking lifetime.

  Everything about her is dangerous, perilous, like a crop of rocks hidden beneath the ocean waves. She’ll tear my hull, she’ll pull me apart, dragging me into her depths until all I can do is swim to the surface and hope I don’t drown.

  My heart thunders, my cock hardens, my gaze narrows, my breathing stutters, yet I don’t look away, I don’t heed the warnings. I allow myself to absorb every inch of her sinful curves, her rosebud mouth, her heart-shaped face, her bare sun-kissed shoulders, her slim arms and the curve of her tits as she moves seductively in time to the music.

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter under my breath, needing that beer. Needing it now.

  Painfully, I tear my gaze away from Connie and suck in a deep breath trying to steady the rushing, pounding pulse that thunders around my body ending up in my cock. It hardens painfully, but I can’t do a damn thing about it. Not a damn thing.

  It’s just as well that no one is paying any attention to me. Lola is busy behind her makeshift bar talking to some guy I’ve not seen before. Rob is still waiting to grab our beers and everyone else is either dancing, drinking or chatting.

  The atmosphere is thick, humid. Swelling with portent, with warning. Just like the air before a storm. Already my skin is slick with sweat, and I push my hair off my face feeling the heat pouring from my skin. Where’s that fucking beer?

  I need to quench my thirst. I need to get fucking drunk. I need to fuck.

  Pushing off the wall, my feet move of their own accord towards the counter and Rob and Lola who are talking now. She hands him two beers, looking up at me with a smile in her gaze.

  “You decided to come after all?” she asks.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I remark, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be closing up soon.”

  Taking the bottle from her, I turn my back against the counter and take a deep pull from the ice-cold beer. It helps a smidge.

  “I told them to back off,” Rob says, raising his voice over the music.

  “Good.”

  To be fair to Rob’s crew, they’ve done exactly what he’s asked, though I see a number of them still staring at Connie and her friends, including the little arsehole who was hugging her earlier. I can only surmise that’s the boy, Jack, whom she’s mentioned a couple of times.

  Little prick.

  In fact, right now his gaze is firmly fixed on Connie’s arse that’s swaying to the music. She’s oblivious to all the men staring at her, oblivious to their attention with her eyes still pressed shut and her sweet mouth forming the words to the song.

  Knocking back the rest of the beer, I slam the bottle on the counter. “Give me another. Rob too,” I demand, tapping my fingers on the wood impatiently. Lola rolls her eyes.

  “Mind your manners, Malakai. I might hit like a girl, but I can still throw a punch.”

  Rob smirks, winking at Lola who chuckles. I don’t mean to be an arsehole, it’s just the way I am. “Sorry,” I mutter.

  “Apology accepted,” Lola responds, grabbing two more beers then moving off to serve someone else, leaving me to watch over Connie and her friends. Though I barely notice them. One is small and blonde, the other has dark hair. Neither hold a candle to Connie.

  Her beauty is otherworldly. Thank fuck she’s so unaware of it.

  The song ends abruptly, only to start up with another track I’ve never heard before. It has a low bass, a kind of throbbing sound. Everyone cheers. Connie’s eyes snap open, grinning as she smiles gleefully at her two girlfriends. One of them, the blonde, leans over and whispers in her ear, nodding in my direction. Connie’s head whips around and she stares right at me.

  Fuck.

  If I wasn’t being a complete creeper, I might not have noticed the way her eyes widen just a bit and her cheeks flush a deeper pink. But I am, and I do.

  Fuc
k, fuck, fuck.

  When she starts pushing through the crowd and walking towards me, my mouth goes dry and I swear to God, my knees go a little weak. My cock, however, that’s hard as stone. Turning my back to her I lean against the counter and lift the second bottle of beer to my mouth, knocking it back in one long glug.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as she rests her forearms against the bar, waiting to get Lola’s attention. A light sheen of sweat covers her skin, and my thoughts go to a dirty place, one where she’s spread-eagled on my bed after a long session of fucking… me.

  “Jesus, get a grip man,” I mutter to myself.

  “Would you like another drink?”

  “What?” I snap, glaring at Connie as she looks at me with wide eyes. I’d like to taste something, but it certainly isn’t beer.

  She steps closer, her gaze flicking between my face and my hand holding the beer a little too tightly. “I said, would you like another drink?” she repeats, nodding towards my now empty bottle.

  “No.”

  “You look like you could do with another…?”

  “I don’t accept offers of a drink from kids,” I say, unkindly.

  “Ah, I see. Back to that again.” She pauses, as though deciding something. Eventually she rolls her eyes, and I have the sudden urge to drag her back to my boat and punish her for it with a few stinging slaps to her pert little arse. “I’m not a kid. I’m eighteen and I’m pretty sure half the men in here know that too.”

  Is she provoking me?

  A grumble releases from my throat as I turn fully to face her. I don’t care that my cock is hard. I don’t care that I’m looking at her like I want to fuck her, and I certainly don’t care about the other men in this place staring at her in the same damn way.

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “What?” Her pretty plump mouth drops open in shock.

  “You heard me. I’m taking you home. This is no place for you.”

  “Like hell you are!” she bites back, folding her arms across her chest defensively, which only serves to push her breasts up higher.

  “Ma Silva isn’t going to be happy about you flirting with all these men and being a tease.”

  “Flirting?! A tease?! I was dancing, having fun. You should try it sometime!” Her face flushes a deeper pink with her indignation before she turns away from me and walks directly into Jack’s arms.

  “You alright, Connie?” he asks her, barely able to hold himself upright. The little douchebag is drunk. He can’t even focus properly, not to mention that his hands are on her fucking skin.

  “I’m fine,” she bites out through gritted teeth, even though her body is stiff with anger.

  Jack seems to make a quick assessment of the situation and looks over at me. “What did you say to her?” he accuses, puffing out his chest like some peacock, because let’s face it, he’s no alpha wolf.

  “That’s got fuck all to do with you.”

  Connie spins on her feet and glares at me. “Stop being an arsehole, Malakai. Jack is my friend.”

  “I don’t care. He needs to get his hands off you before I do it for him!” I growl back.

  Jack, full of bravado and beer, moves Connie to the side and faces up to me. “Say that again,” he taunts.

  “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her!” I repeat, stepping closer and towering over the little weasel.

  “Whoa! Cut that shit out!” Lola appears by my side, forcing us both back. “What the hell, Malakai?”

  “He’s drunk. Connie needs to go home,” I snap, glaring at the little son-of-a-bitch who now has his arm wrapped around Connie’s shoulder. He’s swaying, pulling Connie with him as he stumbles. They both fall sideways and without thinking, I lunge forward and grasp for Connie, hauling her upright and against my chest whilst Jack falls to the floor. A moment later, Connie’s two girlfriends appear, the blonde is crouched down next to Jack whilst the other is staring at me and Connie with wide eyes. I realise too late that she’s almost flush against me, that she’s shaking with.. fear, anger, desire? Fuck. Putting space between us, but still not letting her arm go, I glare at Lola, at every-fucking-one.

  “I’m taking Connie home. Now.” With that, I turn on my feet, pulling Connie through the throng with me.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Connie shouts the moment we are outside and away from the crowd. She tries to yank free from my hold, but I refuse to let her go. A tiny voice is urging me to release her, but I ignore it.

  “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not the one acting all coy one minute then provocative the next. Are you looking for trouble, is that it? What are you trying to prove?”

  “I’m doing no such thing and you are being a complete and utter overbearing tosser. Who do you think you are?”

  She’s seething. I don’t blame her, I am being an overbearing tosser and yet, I can’t seem to help myself. I’ve never felt such fury. All those men watching her, fucking her with their eyes, thinking dirty, salacious thoughts. I know that I’m right, because I am one of those men. Goddamn it to fucking hell.

  “Well?” she demands.

  I narrow my gaze, pulling her into my body then lean down and press my nose against her pulse just beneath her ear. “I’m the big bad wolf.”

  Eleven

  Connie

  I’m the big bad wolf?

  Oh my God, he’d heard what I said? My skin prickles, my face flushes with heat, my body sways a little in his arms and despite my indignation, I want to lean into him.

  “Don’t think I didn’t hear you, Connie Silva…” he growls, the rumble of his voice shooting an electric current straight down my spine to my core.

  “I…”

  My voice fails me. I want to respond but I suddenly have no use of my mouth. Words stutter on my lips. Words that have nothing to do with how much of an arse he’s being and more to do with how he’s making me feel right now.

  Scared.

  Alive.

  Taut.

  Wet.

  Needy.

  Throbbing.

  My breath falls heavy from my lips, matching the raggedness of his. I’m seconds away from throwing myself at him. Seconds…

  “I’m taking you back home,” he grumbles but I notice the crack in his voice, the groan. What is happening here? The way he says that sounds far more meaningful than it should.

  “I don’t want to go home,” I breathe, meaning something else too. I want to be with him.

  I want him. God help me, I do.

  I’ve never ever felt this way. This pull. I can feel it deep inside, connecting me to him, drawing me to him. Only him. Forever him. I draw in a deep breath and can’t help but let out a whimper because he smells of the sea when it rains. He smells of saltwater tears, of leather warmed in the sun. He smells of the whole damn ocean.

  It’s a heady smell, intoxicating. A drug, addicting.

  “It doesn’t matter what you want, Connie Silva, this is happening…”

  Yet, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he edges closer, wary, as though I’m the predator and not the prey. His fingers on my arm tighten painfully, but I don’t feel it because I’m all too aware of how his breath tickles my ear, how his lips brush ever so softly against my skin, making me weak, pliable.

  “Malakai…” I groan, unable to help myself.

  The heat between us grows in intensity, and I’m aware of nothing else as he raises his free hand and cups the back of my neck, curling his fingers into my hair at the base. I’ve no idea if Lola and my friends followed us out of The Shack or if there are people watching us.

  I’m only aware of him. Just him.

  “Don’t move,” he grinds out. “Don’t think. Don’t speak. Don’t fucking breathe.”

  I’m whimpering now as he lips trail against the side of my face, so softly I feel as though I’m imagining it. I’m not sure if he’s intentionally kissing me or if he’s trying not to. Either way, I’m lost.

  “Why?”

  “Be
cause every time you do I can feel your tits brushing against my chest and it’s taking everything in me not to rip that dress from your body and fuck you here right in front of everyone. That’s why.”

  Dear God, please, I almost beg.

  “MALAKAI!” a shrill voice shouts.

  Reality comes rushing back in as Lola’s anger rings through the air. He steps back, dropping my arm as a burst of air fills the space between us. I shiver, despite the lingering heat from a scorching day. Without him I feel cold.

  He wants me…?

  “What the hell is your problem?” she yells.

  My eyes snap up to meet his and he’s scowling again. “She’s a siren…” he mutters.

  What?

  “What?” Lola snatches the word from my head, storming over to us both. “Speak up, Malakai! You’ve never been one to mince your words, so tell me what the hell that was all about!”

  God she’s angry. She has every right to be because a moment longer and I would have wrapped myself around Malakai and ordered him to fuck me. I’m such a bitch. He’s hers, not mine, I remind myself. My teeth start to chatter in earnest. I feel so cold without him.

  “I can’t do this,” he mumbles, shaking his head. I notice how his fists are clenched, how his body shakes just as violently as mine.

  What’s happening? I don’t understand. My head spins with his words.

  “Because every time you do I can feel your tits brushing against my chest and it’s taking everything in me not to rip that dress from your body and fuck you here right in front of everyone. That’s why.”

  Did he say those words, or did I imagine them because I want him so much? Is any of this real?

  “Are you okay?” Lola asks me, touching me gently on my arm right above the spot he held me so tightly. Why is she asking if I’m okay? I was practically dry humping her boyfriend.

  “I’m fine.”

  But I’m not. I’m not fine.

  “You don’t look fine, you look…” her voice trails off as she really looks at me. This expression I wear isn’t from fear. It’s lust, want, need, guilt, but not fear. I’m not afraid of what Malakai will do to me, I’m afraid what will happen if he doesn’t.