Buck Moon Party on the Beach

by Alice May Ball

  “Nothing you wouldn’t be welcome to join,” he looks around the table. He tells the girls, “There’s only one true lassie for the chieftain, and he’ll not dally nor tarry till he finds her.” He lifts a big, frosted glass with a clear cocktail, “Is it the truth, laird?”

  “It’s a legend and you know it, you big jessie.”

  “Held true up to now, though. Right, Jock?”

  I brush him off with a smile. “Are you ready to talk, Dashiell?”

  He knows why I’m here. He knows the ask I’m making and we both know he’s going to say ‘yes’ in the end. If I wasn’t certain before I came, I know it now, when he’s going to talk about it across the table, with Coral, Camilla, Tatiana, and Elspeth with us, listening in.

  They’ll be happy, confidential witnesses to his generosity. If he was going to say ‘no,’ we would be talking in private.

  He’s sounding thoughtful and wary. “It’s still a lot of money, Jock.”

  “You could buy the whole island, pay cash, Dashiell. You and I know you’d not notice the money had gone.”

  “You’re one to talk. You could buy me, pay cash and not notice the money was gone.”

  I’m asking him to put in all of his profits from the Buck Moon Beach Party. It’s the island’s biggest annual event, and Dashiell is one of the biggest promoters involved.

  “It would be enough to build a village with a school, Jock.”

  “There are great and dedicated teachers here already, Dashiell. They don’t need more buildings, they only need better pay. No, I was thinking we’d do some rebuilding, and we’d start a hospital. It won’t repair all the damage from last year’s storm, but it would go a long way in the right direction.”

  All the time I’m talking with Dashiell, his lovelies are looking at me, over their shoulders, up under their eyelids, and all I can think of is whether the lassie would approve of the deal. Would she be impressed if I told her? And I’ve the urge to tell her, too.

  I never would, obviously. Dashiell and I, we’ve long had a pact. We’ll do all we can for the island because we love it, but our names will never be heard of in connection with the work. Neither he nor I need or want any publicity for ourselves or our money.

  All the credit goes to hard-working locals. We make heroes of them. Give them and their friends something to look up to.

  “All the profits, Jock? Couldn’t we make it half?”

  I give him a look. I know he’s haggling. Biding his time and stalling while he waits for something from me. It’s okay. I’ve got an idea he won’t be able to resist.

  For now, I jockey him along, “Dashiell, think of the naughty grins on the mucky faces of the kids in the old side of the island. Those little scamps are the next generation of your chefs and mixologists, not to mention the staff for your hotels, security, taxi and limo drivers.”

  He takes a sip of his drink. “This is my biggest earning event of the year.” I don’t believe it. Not for one second. He has weekend festivals all over Southern Europe in summer and a huge music convention in Miami.

  “Alright, Dashiell,” I tell him, “let’s go one better. You put in your earnings from the party, I’ll match it. From my own pocket. What do you say?”

  Chapter Five

  When I get back to Blood Moon Beach, I’m looking for Banger. I want to celebrate the deal with Dashiell and I know Banger will be pleased. He’s got a relief barmaid on in the bar of Surf Sup.

  That’s when I look in on Poppy and Sunrise in the surf shop.

  I’m not expecting to see Miss Firecracker there. She stares at me. Defiant.

  The bikinis Poppy picked out will look great on her, though. She knows it and I know it, too. I can’t wait to see her in them. I want it enough it’s making me ache.

  Poppy touches her shoulder and tells her, “Soon as you walked in here, girl, I knew the bikini I wanted to see you in.”

  Amber is still glaring while Poppy scurries to the back of the store. She comes back with three tiny costumes.

  Poppy says, “I thought of these, too. These are perfect for you, Amber. Trust me, you are going to look sensational in all of them.”

  Her stare is hard and hot. She’s making me hard and hot, too. I can see her digging in her heels, so I try a challenge.

  “She won’t. Our blow-in beach beauty is too proud. She’s too perfect to be trying on bikinis.”

  Her face colors up.

  The look on her face as she snatches the bikinis almost makes me double over. Sunrise looks at me, shaking her head with a grin as Poppy leads Amber to the back of the shop.

  Sunrise and I smile at the giggles and squeaks from the changing room.

  Then she comes out, and I almost come.

  “That bikini,” my voice is dry and almost cracks. “It could have been made for you.”

  “It’s not me. This isn’t the one…” She shakes her head, mussing her hair beautifully. She’s flushed, from her lovely creamy cleavage, all the way up to her cheeks. I swear I even see her knee tremble. Her hips roll.

  “I’m going to take it off, I mean.” She turns, too quickly. Rushes straight into me. Pressed against me, her billows of creamy flesh are too wonderful not to hold on to, at least for a moment.

  A long, breathy sigh sounds like it drags itself out of her. Like it’s not ready to come out, but it has to.

  Her face tips up. Her eyes gleam and glisten and her lips part. Her breasts heave against my hard abs. Her hair is across her face. I brush it aside. Her head tipped back, showing me her milky throat.

  I shouldn’t steal a kiss. I shouldn’t, I mustn’t. But then she stretches up.

  Feeling her soft warmth reach up along my body is too much. I grab the hair on the back of her head and her eyes widen as her mouth falls open. She breathes, “yes.”

  My lips fasten, tenderly and perfectly, on hers. We’re a fit, like we were born together. My tongue finds her and we’re joined on a single breath. The world spins slowly around us and recedes as our arms and our bodies wrap together.

  I fold her in my arms. Feeling swells inside me, buzzing hot. I pull her tight to me.

  A small moan drags out of her.

  She pulls away. Glares at me, panting. Hard. After a hot moment, she scowls and her face screws tight. She slaps me. Open-handed. Hard across the face.

  “Don’t ever do that again.” It stings.

  “You did it…”

  She slaps me again. “Don’t ever do it again.”

  She backs away. Leans against the wall.

  From the far side of the store, Poppy says, “Is it hot in here?” Looking as Sunrise. Their eyes are wide as they fan their faces with their hands.

  I’m beyond angry now. I’m shaking.

  Amber says, “I’m going to try on the others,” and she moves to stand by the changing room curtain. Stopped at the doorway. Looks back at me.

  The scent of her is making me insane.

  Poppy says to Sunrise, “You know, maybe it’s time we close for lunch.” Sunrise nods.

  “Mm-hmm. Yeah,” Sunrise says, “we’ll lock up. Maybe I leave the spare keys on the table, eh, Poppy?”

  Amber leans back against the doorframe. Her hips tilt forward and one thigh drifts open. Glaring hard into my eyes. Her thigh twists, making hips roll.

  “Sure, Sunrise,” Poppy says, “we can leave these two to lock up.”

  Sunrise opens the door, “When they done.” The girls slipped out and lock the door behind them. Giggling.

  As they get outside, they’re laughing so hard they’re bent over. They can hardly walk Their giggling drifts away into the beach noise and a hot still silence thickens the store. Amber’s breath is shallow and hard.

  Every bone, every muscle, every nerve in my body trembles, blazing hot.

  Amber backs through the curtain into the changing room. Her eyes don’t leave mine. I follow her in.

  She backs against the wall. “Don’t come near me,” her voice is as dark as smoke.
/>   She unhooks the bikini top behind her back. Her breasts swell and shake slowly as she folds her arms over her chest. The straps of the top fall, tumbling down the tops of her arms. She’s breathing hard. Her breasts heave.

  “Don’t…” She leans back harder against the far wall. Her hips roll and her thighs open and close.

  I let out a breath, “Fuck…”

  “Vagabond.” That slays me. Starts me off, laughing so hard I can hardly speak. “What the fuck is it even supposed to mean? Okay, that’s it…”

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she lets her arms down. The bikini top drifts to the floor, it flutters like a bird, but my attention is on the perfect breasts she’s left bouncing free.

  Now I’m serious. “Lassie, you don’t know what you’re starting up here.”

  She hooks her thumbs in the sides of the bikini bottoms.

  The front of my kilt rises.

  Her eyes roll, “What have you got under there?”

  I move in front of her. “Do you want to fucking know? Do you want to see? Why don’t you take a hold, find out for yourself?”

  Her head nods, firm and definite, but her eyes and her mouth open in horror, “No!”

  Her pelvis rolls and her eyebrows steeple as she slips her bikini bottoms down to her thighs. Her glistening wet pussy is pink and swollen.

  Timid, she reaches up, under my kilt. Her fingers trace up my muscled thighs, trembling like they’re handling hot coals.

  The warmth of her palms, less than an inch away, either side of my stiffening cock is almost too much to bear. She wants me to take her. I know she does.

  And I will.

  And I’ll wait until she’s ready. She thinks she’s ready, but I can see in her eyes. She’s not. Not yet. Nearly. I hold her chin. Stroke her face. Run my hand down the side of her neck. Teasing, barely touching her, my hand slips down to cradle the curve of her breast.

  With barely any pressure, she takes a hold of me and she gasps. Not a little girl Ooh-what’s-this gasp. A womanly gasp. Like, I’m afraid, but I’ve got it and I’m going to hold on.

  It makes me even harder. She pulls me to her. Her scent rises. I can hardly keep still. I realize, I’m not still. My body is snaking. Weaving. Coiling and rolling.

  But not pushing.

  Holding me with both hands fluttering as she holds my pulsing shaft, she feels the length of my cock and pulls me to her.

  She jumps and moans as she pulls my head against her wet lips. Her hips saw and shove, pushing to get me inside. I hold her breasts, squeezing tenderly.

  I want to speak and reassure her, but she’s still too afraid for words.

  When she pulls me to her folds, though, locks me into her opening and she starts to wind the wet mouth of her soft pussy onto my shaft, her hot wetness is almost too much to take. She makes little startled gasps all the way. With my hand on her ass, I pull her to me.

  I stroke the hair from her face and look into her questioning eyes.

  “Lassie, I’ll do what you want. If you trust me.” She nods and her eyes glisten as she licks her lips. “Now, are you sure?” she nods again. “And are you ready?”

  She hesitates. Shakes her head.

  I grin. “Good.” I yank down her bikini bottoms to her knee and hold them so she can step her right leg out.

  I give her a gentle smile as I seize her ankle. Pull her leg straight up, stretch her till her ankle is over my shoulder. Hold her there.

  I grab hold of her hair. Pull her head back and look into her blazing eyes as I lower my mouth to hers. My lips curl. She trembles from head to foot as I take a kiss.

  Her arms fly around my neck and her eager little pussy rocks, holding me and working on me. Her kiss is deep and desperate. Needing. Open.

  Mine is hot and hard. A declaration of intent.

  Holding her ankle high, I look in her eye. With the other hand, I feel how hot and wet she is. Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I taste her for the first time. I know.

  She watches. I offer my fingers to her. Her lips seize on my fingers and her little tongue rolls around them as she sucks, greedily.

  Then she shouts as I drive all the way in.

  The noise the lassie makes, I ask her, again and again, “Are you happy? Is it good to get fucked by a big Scottish vagabond?”

  “Yes, yes. More!”

  I pull her waist and her ass rolls to take me deeper. The grip of her walls flutters on the length of my hard cock. As I slam in, banging her against the wall, I’m watching the pace of her breaths. Sensing her rhythm. Feeling where she plateaus and peaks. Holding back for when she bursts a wild gush on me.

  At the first peak, I pull her head back more. “Are you glad you got what you wanted, Amber?”

  “God, yes!” I hammer her mercilessly.

  “You’re beautiful, Amber. Come for me again.”

  And she does. Her leg trembles like she could collapse and fall, but she matches the force of my thrusts, banging and squeezing and taking all she can.

  Again and again, as I ram my shaft deeper. Higher.

  Another rising set of gasps, another rising roll of moans and shouts and I grip her ass, so tiny in my hand she’s like a little bird. As her thighs and her ass clench and tremble, I push deeper and thrust longer, harder until I’m clenching and pumping myself.

  She brims and spills as I’m hosing, splattering and filling her inside with my thick, sticky, pounding jizz.

  Then she tears herself away. Red-faced, she swings a wide, heavy open-handed slap across my face.

  I watch as she quickly pulls on her shorts and the skimpy jacket. Red-faced and angry, she scoops up her old bikini and her bag, and she runs.

  Her temper when she realizes she has to unlock the door makes me double up laughing.

  I see that does not please her.

  Chapter Six

  I try a dive bar called the Rusty Screw as a place to hide and lick my wounds, but the atmosphere is too raw. I feel too exposed.

  Hiding in the shadows in the shade at the back of Surf Sup may not be my best plan for avoiding Mr. Kilt and his impossibly big dirk, but the Bahamas Grand is not the place for me right now and I feel I need to be somewhere I know.

  Kayleigh’s on the phone almost as soon as I sit down. Her voice is bubbly and full of energy. I always love that about her. She’s a bundle of energy and always fizzing with enthusiasm. I know she’s calling to lean on me for something, but it’s a comfort to hear her familiar voice.

  Any other time, she would be the first person I would seek out to talk to about what just happened, but I know I’m not going to tell her. I know I’m not ready to deal with it.

  “This mega DJ, Rob McCain, you’re going to love him, and he’s coming to the island for the Buck Moon Beach Party.”

  Nursing a long King’s Pole Tonic, I take a sip as I hold back a sigh. The smooth coffee cocktail really does seem to mellow me out and wake me up at the same time.

  I tell her, “I’m not here to go to parties, Kayleigh. Anyway, it’s not my thing.”

  “I can’t believe I’m stuck here in LA, trying to hunt down the elusive billionaire who everybody pretends they don’t know, and the one person who does know him, his old childhood friend and rugby teammate, is coming to Pole Island for the party of the year.”

  I know, all of this really matters to Kayleigh. Poor thing.

  “All you have to do is see him, Amber. Just see him and ask him to help get me an intro to Jack McCaber. You can do it.”

  “Okay, Kayleigh.” I tell her, taking a breath, “First, I’m not going to the party. Second, even if I did, I wouldn’t get anywhere near any superstar DJs.” By now Banger is looking at me from the bar. “And even if I did, why would he tell me anything about his reclusive friend. You’re reaching, Kayleigh. Clutching. I’m not going to be able to do this for you.”

  “You don’t want to. You don’t want to help me get the scoop of the year.”

  “Okay, the truth, Kayleigh?” I tak
e another breath, “I do want you to get the scoop of the year, honestly I do. But I don’t want to spend the time I’ve set aside for rest, running on wild goose chases for you, dashing all over the island, chasing after something that, honestly? I just don’t think I’m going to be able to get for you. I’m sorry, Kayleigh.”

  She sounds so sad when we hang up, I feel like I’ve taken a little girl’s balloon and burst it.

  Banger saunters over. “Was that Rob McCain you were talking about?” He’s brought me a beer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be listening in.”

  “Rob who?”

  “Superstar DJ who’s coming for the Moon Party midnight set?”

  “Is that who it is?”

  “I know him,” and then a grin splits his face. “but I tell you what, Jock knows him, really well. Why don’t you ask Jock to introduce you?”

  I want to tell him, ‘because I don’t want to. Because I don’t want to ask Jock, because I don’t want to go to a party, and because I don’t want to go and meet a superstar DJ.’ But even I feel like I’m being too mean and ungrateful. One party, one night. It could do a whole world of good for my friend.

  So what if I don’t want to go? It’s a party. How bad can it be?

  But, really. Ask Jock? I’d rather ask the devil himself. But Banger’s taken out a phone, “No worry, hen,” he smiles, “I’m asking him for you.”

  Back in my hotel, on the way across the thickly carpeted lobby, a concierge calls me to her desk. She smiles as she hands me a package, beautifully wrapped in red paper with a black ribbon. An orange card has my name.

  While I’m there, I see another poster for the buck moon party, so I ask her. “What is all this about ‘buck moons’ and ‘blood moons’? A blood moon is when it’s big and red, right?”

  “Right. It’s big and red in a lunar eclipse,” she tells me. “The Buck moon happens every year. It’s the first full moon in July. It’s called the buck moon because it’s when the bucks and stags get their new antlers. And,” she looks up coyly, “at that time, it is said much bucking occurs.”

  I take the package with a cold glass of white wine onto the balcony to watch the sunset.