by Ker Dukey
I slap a hand to his chest. “Yes, brother, yes she is.”
Mona’s full tits, firm and perky, are just visible under the moonlight. So bad, I want to taste them, suck those hard nipples into my mouth and hear her moan.
“Are you coming?” she calls out, moving down to the sliver of sand, the waves breaking against the shoreline. “Colt, come on,” she calls again, and I slip off my jacket and loosen my tie.
Swimming in the cold ocean at night has never been on my bucket list, but for her, I’ll embrace it. Next comes my shirt, then my slacks, until I’m standing in my tight boxer briefs, her eyes transfixed on my junk.
“One thing at a time, islander,” I tease, and even though I can’t see it, I know she’s blushing.
She turns and runs to the water, getting in up to her shins before screeching at the shock of the temperature. “It’s freezing,” she cries.
I splash her, making her yelp and jump, her tits bouncing. Fuck, my dick is hardening and she can see it all. Fuck it. I advance a few steps in, then dive beneath the surface, taking a few strides and popping up when the water is up to my chest. “You coming?” I counter her question.
She bites her lip. “I don’t understand how to actually swim.”
Damn that bastard ruining her childhood. I should swim to that island and drown the cunt. What father surrounds his life with water and forces his child fear it?
“Then we’ll teach you,” Cash says, coming up behind her, offering his hand. She accepts it with a smile and nods. She trusts us.
As they get deeper, I swim closer toward them. “Put your hands on his shoulders and let your body float. He’ll swim.”
A light giggle fills the air as he pushes off with a breaststroke, her body being pulled along above his. He does a circle around me with her. “Kick your legs,” I tell her, and she complies. “Good girl.”
“I feel weightless.” She beams. “It’s so calming.”
“We can get you real swimming lessons, then you can swim whenever you want.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Watch Cash, how he moves his arms. Now, let go and swim to me.”
“I can’t,” she squeals.
“Trust yourself,” I tell her.
Letting go, she kicks her legs and powers her arms. “I’m doing it!” she shouts, her teeth chattering. “I’m freezing,” she mutters, and a loud bark of laughter roars from inside me. It’s so fucking cold, my balls have gone up into my stomach. Cash grabs her waist, guiding her to me.
“Let’s go get warmed up.” I claim her from Cash, and she wraps herself around me, her bare tits pushing against my chest. I don’t feel quite as cold, the numbness thawing not just on the outside of me, but inside too.
She stays wrapped around me all the way back to the house.
I deposit her reluctantly in front of the fire place, our faces so fucking close, the look in her eye tells me she wants to be loved, to feel the real touch of a man.
And damn if I don’t want to be the one to give her that. “I’ll get some towels,” I tell her, pulling her arms from around my neck.
When I return a few minutes later, she’s wrapped in a blanket from the back of the couch and holding the fruity cider between her palms. Cash meets me halfway, taking a towel for himself. I gather mine around my waist and offer Mona hers, which she wraps around her head after placing her drink down.
“Thank you—not just for the towel, but for showing me more in one night than I’ve experienced in my entire life.”
“There’s so much more to show you,” Cash tells her, pouring us both a drink.
“Can we play some music, like what they played at the club?” she asks, her face animated.
I shrug a shoulder at Cash. “Sure.”
Cash brings a playlist up and syncs it to the built-in system. Music begins crooning from the speakers throughout the room. She tucks the blanket around herself like a toga, gulps down her drink, and begins to dance. She’s uncoordinated and all limbs and hair flips, but it’s fucking adorable.
“Dance with me,” she says, pulling me by the hand. She’s fascinating, carefree, doesn’t focus on making sure she’s poised and every strand of hair stays in place. Everything she’s thinking comes straight out of her mouth, and it’s more than refreshing.
“I never want to leave here.” She sighs, swaying her hips. I turn her, spinning her under my arm, making her giggle. “That’s good because I’m keeping you,” I murmur.
Cash is sitting watching, a smile on his usually moody exterior.
After a couple more songs, I notice the alcohol has taken effect on my sweet islander. With glassy eyes, she stares at my lips while biting her own.
“I think maybe we should get you to bed,” I state. All I want to do is show her how her body should feel when being fucked by a real man, but it’s too soon—too fucked up when she’s drunk. “I do feel a little dizzy.” She rubs her fingers against her eyes.
“Maybe just a little nap.” I scoop her up into my arms, and she snuggles against my chest.
“You smell of summer rain,” she breathes, her eyes closing.
“Cash, will you bring some water and two aspirin.”
By the time I’ve ascended the stairs to her room, she’s breathing heavy, her eyes closed. I’ve never felt this content before. I never want to let her go. It’s madness to have such a strong desire toward someone you’ve just met, but she evokes a protective nature in me and excites the beast beneath the surface.
I place her on the bed, but she doesn’t untangle her hands from around my neck. When I look down, she’s looking up at me. “Colt…”
“What is it, islander?”
“Will you kiss me?”
Fuck.
“Just once,” she adds, her brows drawn together.
My tongue swipes out to dampen my lips. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” I ask.
“Everywhere,” she yearns.
Double fuck.
“But for right now…” She leans up and seals her lips to mine. They’re thick and warm, soft against mine. My body overrides my mind, my tongue swiping out to part her lips, tasting her. She mimics my movements, letting out a little moan as I caress every part of her mouth, our tongues dancing like our bodies were to the music downstairs. I grasp her cheek, deepening our kiss before pulling away, panting hard.
“Now sleep, Mona,” I tell her, dragging myself out of the room, almost colliding with Cash.
“You okay?” He quirks a brow.
“Fuck no.” I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “I need a cold fucking shower.”
A knowing grin tilts his lips. “She’s the Garden of Eden. One bite of the apple…”
“Fuck off,” I grunt. I need a shower.
Seventeen
Mona
I wake with a pounding in my head and a thirst I’ve never experienced before. Heat flames my cheeks when memories come back to me of last night. Swimming with Colt and Cash. Seeing them strip from their clothes. Colt’s tight muscles under inked skin. His entire torso and arms are painted in art. It’s mesmerizing.
Cash had clear, taut skin with jewel piercings in his nipples.
I bite my lip, re-living the memory. My mind flashes to dancing with Colt wrapped only in a towel, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, the firm grip of his hands, the strength in that body when he effortlessly carried me to this room and then blew my mind with the most perfect kiss of my existence. Forget butterflies. Birds took flight inside me. Electricity pulsed through every nerve-ending. Heat pooled between my legs, desperately aching for relief. I roll onto my stomach, my hands disappearing between my thighs, rubbing away the need.
When I’m flushed and sated, I smile up at the ceiling, wishing it was Colt’s hands and not my own.
A glass of water and two white pills sit on the bedside table next to a note.
Swallow these. They will help with the headache.
I examine the p
ills, a little nervous zap surging through me. If they wanted to drug me, they would have done it sooner, and honestly, they don’t need to. I never want to leave this place.
After an extra-long shower, I slip into some fresh clothes from the wardrobe, making a mental note to ask Colt who they belong to.
The house is quiet as I pass through it. The vast windows leave a sprinkling of goosebumps over my skin, the ever-present thought of someone watching me through them. A shiver races up my spine, and I find myself jogging down the stairs instead of walking, craving Colt and Cash’s company.
A scent of hot food hits me when I reach the bottom step. My stomach grumbles in response. I love their food.
I go straight to the dining room, hoping to feast, and stop in my tracks.
My heart kicks against my ribs.
“Hello. I’ve been waiting for you,” their father announces.
“Why? So you can kill me too?” I snap, entering the room and scanning the space for a weapon I can use.
“Dramatic much?” he tsks.
I launch toward the table, picking up a bread knife and holding it out toward him.
“What are you going to do with that, saw me to death? The tip is blunt,” he mocks.
“Then it will hurt more going in, won’t it?” I retort, taking a step closer. I refuse to show him fear. He has no power over me.
He dabs his mouth with a napkin and leans back in the chair Colt occupied yesterday. Where are they? Did they set me up? No.
“It came to me after you left my club last night.” He tilts his head, studying me. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls a photo free. “You look like her. You’re prettier, but the resemblance is there,” he torments, pushing the picture across the table.
Thunderclouds fill my head. Pain stabs into me at the image of my sister lying naked, her chest open and bloody.
“You monster,” I yell, lunging toward him with the knife. Grabbing my wrist, he spins it up to my back and slams me facedown on the table, the impact sending pain exploding over my cheek.
His body covers mine, overpowering me in strength and stature.
“You’re feistier than she was,” he taunts.
Footfalls sound on the stairs, and I’m released abruptly. He re-claims his seat just as Colt enters the room.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls, coming to my side. “You okay?” He inspects me.
I’m a little winded, so just nod my head once.
“Did he touch you?” His hand strokes down my cheek, leaving a sting in its wake.
Holding up his hands, his father shrugs. “She came at me with a knife. I disarmed her, that’s all.”
“I will fucking kill you,” Colt snaps, moving me behind him. Rage stiffens his posture, fire alight in his eyes.
“Over what?” his father roars, swiping plates to the floor. “Another little island slut! Haven’t those people taken enough from me?”
“What the hell is going on?” Cash announces his entrance, his hair ruffled and beautiful face indented in sleep lines.
“Dad was just being his delightful self, letting his true colors show. I knew you were still fucking bitter over Mom. Is that why you killed Clara? To get back at them?”
“Careful, son. Guilty men shouldn’t be so quick to walk others to the gallows,” he sneers, retaking his seat.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Cash asks, coming farther into the room, his eyes flicking to the mess all over the floor.
Such a waste.
“Nothing. He’s just trying to play games, as usual,” Colt defends, his arm outstretched, shielding me.
“Do you know where Mom is?” Cash asks him, which seems to throw him off guard. He straightens, steepling his hands on the table.
“Why do you keep bringing up that traitorous whore? Thinking I’m still bitter over her. It’s been two fucking decades since she made her choice. Why would I care where she is?”
“Tell me why you killed my sister then. Was it so bad that she loved your son?” I spit with disgust, clinging to Colt so I don’t lose my footing.
“Which son?” he sneers, narrowing his eyes on me.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Cash snaps at him, hands on hips.
“Why don’t you ask Colt.” He looks between his sons.
“You’re not answering the question,” I grind out.
“Because I don’t have to answer to you, little girl. I was proven innocent in your sister’s murder.”
“Then how did you get that photo?” I almost sob, but the anger keeps the tears at bay.
“What photo?” Cash and Colt ask in unison. I point to the image on the table.
Cash almost collapses when he sees it, a horrible sound tearing out of him.
“Press got the images and was going to sell them, so I bought them,” their father defends himself, swiping a piece of fruit away from his arm.
“Why?” Colt asks.
“Because if the public saw them, it would have damaged my case. No one can forget seeing that.”
“If it wasn’t you, who was it?” Cash manages to get himself together to ask the burning question.
“Maybe you’re looking at him every time you see your reflection.”
“Riddles? Really?”
“Get the hell out,” Colt barks, making me jump.
“I was going anyway. Good luck, sweetheart. Let’s hope that pretty face doesn’t end up on the front page of the newspaper.”
Eighteen
Cash
It’s been four days since my father showed up with his riddles of bullshit. I asked Colt if he knew what the hell he was talking about, but he just got angry and said he was having all the locks changed, then fired the security guards and cooks for allowing him access.
Mona has been quiet and withdrawn, the bruise covering the entire left side of her face a constant reminder that we failed to keep her safe. Colt’s mood has been dark, quietly raging, the atmosphere thick with an unsettled disposition.
“How about we watch a movie?” I ask. Mona looks up from the book she’s reading.
I click the button for the projector screen to unravel from the ceiling, making Mona gasp.
At times, I forget she hasn’t lived a life like ours. She’s never seen movies. I’ll have to create her a list of all the classics.
“I have some business to attend to,” Colt announces, grabbing his jacket and leaving the house. Mona’s eyes follow his departure. She feels things for him. It’s clear in the way she yearns for his looks, attention.
“I guess it’s just us two.” Thunder booms from above, warning of the impending storm. “I’ll get some snacks, you get comfortable,” I tell her.
She’s transfixed by Lord of the Rings. I figured we’d start strong. She gets closer every time something intense happens, her small body bunched up, knees under her chin. “I want to save my people,” she suddenly says, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?”
She turns to face me, determination in her eyes. “Most people on my island were born there under my father’s reign. They have no idea what the real world is like, that they don’t have to be punished for normal bodily urges or wanting to explore the world.”
“You’ll be imprisoned by your father if you try telling people about the outside world.”
She nods, her locks falling over her face. “I comprehend that. Can’t we bring more people with us, help free the people who don’t want to be there?”
“There’s always been a divide that’s tolerated, for lack of a better word, with your island and the city. The police don’t interfere. I believe your father pays them for his privacy.”
The sky thunders from above, a streak of lightening illuminating the sky, flashing through the window. Mona almost leaps into my lap when all the power flickers out, plunging us into darkness.
“It’s okay. Just a power outage. I’ll get the generator going. Stay here,” I tell her.
I find a f
lashlight and go into the basement, fucking around with the switchboard and then the emergency generator. It won’t start.
Perfect.
When I get back upstairs, Mona is standing at the big window in the living room.
“There was someone out there looking in,” she stutters, her body trembling. She’s probably got scared from the movie and the darkness. I walk over to her, about to tell her she’s imagining things, when she starts. “Look!” she yells, pointing to some trees. I see something move, but I’m not sure what.
“I’ll go check it out.”
“I’m coming with you,” she tells me defiantly.
I’m still holding the flashlight, but grab a gun from the safe.
Rain hammers down, drenching us both. “Stay behind me.” The wind howls, picking up leaves and debris and tossing them all over the place. The waves crashing against the shore sounds like the earth is vibrating. We round the house toward the trees where we saw movement.
“Who’s there?” I call out. “I’m armed and will shoot you.”
No one answers.
“Wait here,” I order Mona, then aim my weapon toward the trees, getting closer. My adrenaline spikes. This is where Clara’s body was found.
Anger pumps through my bloodstream. “If someone is fucking with me, you’re going to be eating lead,” I warn.
The rain picks up, distorting my vision. Mona’s sudden shriek turns my blood cold. I spin, aiming in the direction where I left her, and fire a shot at the figure holding her.
Bang.
Nineteen
Colt
“Fuck!” I yell as pain slices into my shoulder, jolting Mona from my hold.
“Oh my God,” she cries in horror. Rain hammers down on us, my feet slipping in the mud.
“Oh shit! Colt?” Cash calls out, swiping water from his eyes.
“You fucking shot me,” I grind out.
“I thought you were attacking Mona.”