Island Nights

by P. J. Mellor

  “I take it you didn’t have time to explore the island during that visit?”

  “You got that right.” He finished his cocoa and slurped up the marshmallow pebbles. “But as a kid,” he said, chewing vigorously, “I knew every inch of the island.”

  She nodded. “So, in your opinion, there’s no chance there is any oil?”

  “I don’t know where it would be. I—wait! I used to get into trouble all the time for getting this nasty goop all over me from the swampy place.”

  “The swampy place?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, out on the north end. It never dries out and is full of really gross black mud that stains your hands and everything it touches—shit. I bet that’s because it has oil in it!”

  36

  “What? Is there a problem? Why are you looking like that? Reese, cut it out! You’re kind of scary when you have that look on your face.”

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry.” She finished washing and rinsing their mugs and handed them to Ben to dry. “I was just thinking about what you said. You know, about the swampy area at the end of the island.”

  “It’s a stinky place too.” He made a face, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t blame Gram for getting mad when I dragged in, covered in the mess. I remember one time, she had to burn my clothes.”

  “I bet they burned pretty easily.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t notice, but clothes usually burn with no problem. With or without oil, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  Reese fished her cell out of her bag and held it up by the window. Her shoulders slumped. “Still no signal,” she reported.

  Ben held out his hand. “Let’s go sit on the porch for a while.

  The rain is coming pretty much straight down now, so we should stay pretty dry.”

  She trudged behind, allowing him to pull her along as her mind hopped from one worry to another.

  Had Dorinda ever planned to open a B&B? Did she know about the soil testing? Was her boss possibly planning to move into the oil industry? And, if so, would that leave Reese unemployed? Sure, she’d been planning to resign, but did she have enough set aside to live on if her termination was immediate, before she had a chance to find another job?

  Ben pulled her to stand in front of him on the porch, his arms wrapped snugly around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  Reese tried to blank her mind and enjoy the feel of being in Ben’s arms. Who knew how much more time they had left to be together?

  “Relax,” Ben said in her ear. “We’re safe out here. Are you cold?” She shook her head and he gave her a brief hug. “Good. It feels good to be outside and not get pelted with rain.” He rubbed her arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in plenty of time for the auction.”

  That surprised her. “I wasn’t worried.”

  “Yeah, right.” He pointed toward the water. “Look. If you try real hard, you can see a gradual lightening in the cloud cover. The heaviest rain should be past us by midnight. It may even be gone by morning.”

  Surprised, she craned her neck to look up at him. “Are you saying we can safely go back to Sand Dollar tomorrow morning?”

  “Maybe. For sure, by afternoon. Like I said, plenty of time before the auction.”

  “I have to get busy!” Her progress to the front door was halted when Ben grabbed her hand.

  “Whoa! Hold on. Where are you going? What’s there to do?”

  She chewed on her lip for a second. “I’m out of clean underwear—”

  “Don’t wear any on my account,” he said with a grin.

  She swatted his hands when he tried to pull her into his arms. “I am not going back to Sand Dollar without underwear.”

  “Okay. Fine.” He held up his hands. “I see your point. I don’t agree, but I understand. In fact, I’ll even help you.”

  “I’m capable of washing my underwear. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Ah, there’s where you’re wrong.” He bent to stare into her eyes. “Do you know how to operate a wringer washer? I can see by your face you do not.” Grinning, he pulled her into the lobby. “Lucky for you, I was my grandmother’s laundry helper.”

  “Is there enough electricity to run a washer?” Already heading for the stairs to get her clothes, she paused.

  “Nope. There’s enough to run the pump to pump water in and out. That’s where I come in. I’m your agitator—”

  “You can say that again,” she teased.

  “Hardy-har-har, Blondie. Better be nice. You need my muscles, not to mention my expertise.”

  “No offense, but how much expertise does it take to operate a washing machine?”

  “Watch and learn, Grasshopper.”

  “That’s a lot of suds.” Reese eyed the rising foam. “Are you sure you don’t have to measure the detergent?”

  Ben grunted and continued operating the lever to move the agitator. “I’ve seen my grandmother do this a thousand times. She never measured.” He increased his tempo.

  “Maybe so, but she also had done it a lot, with doing laundry for the hotel.”

  “She didn’t do the hotel laundry in this thing,” he said through gritted teeth, muscles in his bare arms bulging. “There are about a half-dozen commercial-size automatic washers-and-dryers out back.”

  “Where?” She would have noticed a laundry facility. “And, more important, why the heck aren’t we using it?”

  “They’re in the second outbuilding,” he ground out. “And, if you recall, we don’t have enough power to run them.”

  “But what about using the dryers?”

  “Sorry, Blondie. We’re going native. Have to hang them up to dry.”

  “Well, at least they’ll be clean. I—oh! Look out!”

  The old machine gave a ferocious-sounding belch. It spewed the rising wall of foam out in a geyser to coat the floor, as well as Ben and Reese, in a layer of slick soapsuds.

  “Eew!” Reese slipped and slid, grabbing hold of the washer to prevent falling into the mess spreading over the floor.

  That’s when she noticed Ben coughing and gagging.

  “Ben! Are you okay?” It was slow going, but she finally covered the three feet of treacherous floor to get to his side. “Ben?”

  Since he continued to have problems, she thumped him hard on the back.

  It knocked him off his feet, his arms windmilling, feet slipping in a desperate attempt to remain upright.

  “Oh, no!” Grabbing to steady him was not her best idea.

  They went down together in a sliding, oozing heap on the floor.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” At least, she noted, Ben had stopped coughing.

  “I was trying to help you!” She tried getting to her feet, only to fall again and rap her elbow sharply on the edge of the washer leg. “Ouch!”

  “Help me? You were the one who knocked me down!”

  “You’re welcome, by the way.” He was right, but it still hurt her feelings. She had been trying to help him. Why couldn’t he see that? Stupid tears stung the backs of her eyelids.

  He scooted closer and pulled her the rest of the way on the slick floor until they were nose to nose. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Swallowing, she looked up into his eyes. A giggle erupted. “You have a cute little foam hat.”

  With a wry grin, he scooped up two handfuls of foam and slopped them on her breasts, then fashioned the suds into pointed peaks. “There. Now you’re not so skinny.”

  Reciprocating, she put a pile of foam on the zipper of his cargo shorts and bared her teeth in a smile. “My dream man.”

  “You don’t need a dream man,” he said, pulling her hand back until she’d rubbed away all of the foam. His hand forced hers to cup his arousal. “Not when you have the real thing.”

  His free hand brushed away the suds from her breast, stroking her until she bit back a moan.

  “Now I’m too skinny again,” she said in a husky voice.

  “Na
w.” He pushed her shirt up and over her head, baring her breasts. “I’d say you’re just about perfect.” Bending, he touched the tip of his tongue to first one peaked nipple, then the other. “Although you do taste sort of soapy.”

  Lying back on the tile, she cupped her breasts, offering them to him. “Maybe you should clean me off.”

  She’d thought he’d rinse her breast, then continue their sex play.

  Instead, he surprised her by laving her breasts with his tongue, then sucking her nipples until she was writhing on the hard tile, slipping on the slick surface, desperate for more.

  Desperate for Ben.

  “Ow!” Ben’s head conked the tub of the washer, but he managed to strip the rest of his soggy clothes away and reached for her.

  Her shriek echoed in the tiny back room when he pulled her shorts off, accidentally shooting her in the opposite direction.

  “Stop clowning around, Blondie.” He grabbed her ankle and dragged her back, sliding his soapy hands up and down her inner thigh along the way.

  “And these,” he said, hooking his finger on the thong between her legs, “are in the way.” He lingered, his finger stroking and petting her until she was bucking her hips wildly, begging for more.

  “Take them off,” she finally managed to whisper.

  “Your wish is my command.” His smile was white in the dwindling light.

  Thong dispensed with, he spread her legs and rested her calves on his tan shoulders. He reached between her legs to stroke her, his touch gentle. “So pretty and soft,” he said appreciatively of her waxed area. “But I have to tell you, I’m a little disappointed. I had hoped to find out if you were a natural blonde. But this is good too.” His voice was soft and hot against her folds.

  His tongue was smooth, its warmth caressing her, relaxing her to open more fully to him.

  Arching her back, she thrust her hips higher, greedy for his intimate kiss. His finger circled and tickled her opening, while he sucked and worried her nub with the edge of his teeth.

  Soapsuds sloshed into her ears, drowning out the beat of her heart with the hissing sound of thousands of bubbles.

  In an intimate cocoon, Reese allowed bliss to reign for the first time in her life. While Ben played and sucked her, she ran her slick restless hands up and down her torso, circling her breasts, pinching her slippery nipples.

  Ben’s probing tongue her sent her over the edge. Every muscle clenched, including her thighs, which held his head prisoner while she rode her personal wave of ecstasy.

  Before she could catch her breath, Ben raised to his knees, arranging her limp legs around his hips and plunged into her. She wanted it.

  She wanted him.

  He obviously wanted her.

  The soap-slicked tile floor had other plans.

  37

  Dorinda swatted Halston’s hand away as the limo crunched on the gravel parking lot of the Sand Dollar Inn. Bad enough he’d groped and probed her all the way down on the plane.

  Not that she was really complaining. In addition to being well hung and a gifted lover, Halston was as horny as they come. Quite possibly he was the first man she’d been with who loved sex as much as herself.

  Together, they made a dynamite team, in or out of bed.

  Halston regarded her with a lazy look as he reached to buzz their driver. “Take a walk, Javier. Come back for us in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the voice through the speakers. Immediately the sound of the driver’s door opened and closed, followed by the unmistakable sound of footfalls on gravel.

  “You seem on edge,” Halston said, reaching under the skirt of her business suit. “Let me help you take some of the edge off.” Their eyes met as he slid her thong down her legs. He tossed it aside. “Now pull up your skirt. Let me see how happy you are to see me.”

  She took orders from no one. Especially a man.

  But she needed him. In business and in pleasure.

  Together, they would be invincible.

  He tickled her seam with the tip of his index finger as she hurried to wiggle up the tight-fitting skirt.

  She bit back a groan, wanting to pause and spread her legs, luxuriating in his touch.

  But she wanted to experience everything he was offering, and they only had fifteen minutes.

  When her skirt was wadded around her bare hips, he smiled and petted her inner thighs until they parted.

  “Relax. Let go of control and let me pleasure you.” He winked. “It’s the least I can do after you were so obliging, sucking me dry on the ride from the airport.” He did an exaggerated shiver and shot her a smoldering look. “Just thinking about it makes me want to come all over you.” He toyed with her labia, never breaking eye contact. “But that will have to wait. Right now,” he said, kneeling between her legs, “I want to taste my sugar pussy.”

  “O.M.G.” Bailey squinted down into the parking lot.

  “Bailey,” Travis said from behind her, “for some reason, I don’t think your comment has anything to do with what I just did.”

  “Hmm?” On her knees, she looked back at her newfound lover. “Oh. Of course not! You heard me scream. You were great. Fabulous. The best.”

  “But … I have a feeling there is a but in there.”

  She pulled him tighter against her back and brought his hand around to kiss his fingers. Placing his hands on her breasts, she smiled when he immediately began fondling.

  “Well, you’re right.” She motioned to the window. “Look down. Tell me if you see what I thought I saw.”

  Rising to get a better view, he pressed his already recovered erection against her back. “Wow!”

  Bailey nodded. “Wow is right. Are you looking through the sunroof of the limo? What do you see?”

  Travis chuckled, his penis rubbing in an interesting way. “I see some guy eating a skinny older chick. She seems to be getting off on it. Him too, if his pace is any indication. It’s like he’s trying to suck her brains out through her crotch.”

  “Hmm.” She leaned back and rubbed against him. “I think you interpreted it better than I did, but that was my general opinion too.” She giggled. “I can’t believe they’re going at it in the parking lot, in broad daylight.”

  “I wouldn’t mind trying it—but only with you, of course.” As if he were trying to prove it, he reached around and toyed with her nipples.

  “Of course.” She did a little shimmy, pressing her derriere into his arousal.

  “Any idea who it is?” His voice sounded strained as he pressed into her.

  Bailey smiled. She’d never had that particular effect on men. It was exhilarating.

  “I know who it looks like, from up here,” she replied, sinking back to the bed with him, “but I know it can’t be her, thank goodness.” Gripping his head, she met his hungry gaze. “Let’s pretend we’re in a limo.”

  Reese knocked on the locked bathroom door again. “Ben, open the door.”

  “No thanks, I’ve had enough humiliation for one night. Hell, I’m set for life!”

  Sighing, she rested her head against the eight-panel door. “It could have happened to anyone.”

  “Maybe, but it happened to me.”

  “Well, you did ingest a lot of soap.”

  “Reese, I threw up while we were making love.”

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her laughter out of her voice. “I know.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t contain her peals of laughter.

  The door opened and Ben walked stiffly past where she was doubled over with laughter.

  “I’m glad I amused you,” he said in a dull voice. “Just shoot me now.”

  He flopped onto an upstairs bed, his arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. “As soon as I gather my strength, I’ll go sleep in the lobby.”

  “Ben! Don’t be ridiculous—”

  “Right. I’ll make up a bed in one of the other rooms. No point in going all the way downstairs. I’m probably too
weak, anyway.”

  He was the picture of health, the white towel wrapped around his lean hips setting off his tanned body to perfection.

  Was this really how they were going to spend their last night on the island?

  Not if she could help it.

  Hands shaking, she quietly stripped, then sat on the mattress close to his towel-clad hip. “Is this a private pity party or can anyone attend?”

  He peeked out from under his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.” Smiling with more confidence than she felt, she walked her fingers up his leg and under the towel.

  “Stop.” He shoved her hand away and closed his eyes again.

  “Ben,” she implored, “it’s our last night on the island.” She moved until she was stretched out along his side, facing him. Taking his hand, she placed his palm on her breast, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he didn’t immediately jerk it away.

  “I’m sick.” He flexed his hand, gently squeezing her breast, his thumb idly rubbing the tip of her nipple. “Who throws up during sex?”

  “Anyone who ingested soap, I’d imagine.” With stealth movements, she loosened the towel and brushed it aside. “Did you chew the antinausea tablet I gave you?” Her hand dipped to cup his testicles, her thumb brushing back and forth at the base of his recovering penis.

  He nodded, eyes still shut, but she was pleased to notice he’d increased the activity of the hand caressing her breast. “Yeah. Thanks, by the way. Thanks, too, for loaning me your toothpaste.”

  “You’re welcome.” It was all she could do to keep her voice neutral when all she really wanted to do was beg him to make love to her. Or jump his bones. Or both. “I have something else that will make you feel better,” she purred, moving higher and closer.

  Turning, she guided her other breast to his mouth, teasing it open with her puckered nipple. Cajoling him, she jiggled her breast, encouraging him to take her into his mouth. When he finally began sucking, she almost swooned with pleasure.

  Her hand began making longer and firmer strokes. Soon Ben’s hips were rising from the mattress, seeking the counterpart of her movements.