by Eve Langlais
Someone was ready. And she didn’t mean him.
The crotch of her panties was drenched in her juices. She more than wanted him; she needed him. Now.
With deft fingers, she undid the zipper to his slacks, pulling his erection out and, once again, marveling at its size. Long. Thick.
Mine.
The possessive feelings only heightened her arousal for this man.
She stroked him, and his breath caught.
The element of discovery and danger should have made her want to move quickly, and yet, instead, it added an extra component to the excitement.
A taboo bit.
She slid off his lap, and he protested with a, “Where are you— Aaaaah.”
He stopped questioning when she knelt between his legs and gave him a lick.
A long, wet lick from base to tip. The glistening pearl on the head of his cock beckoned, and she swiped it with her tongue, feeling the shudder that went through him.
She swirled her tongue over the mushroomed tip before licking her way down the length of him. Then back up. Drawing him into her mouth, not as far as she would like, he was much too big, she suctioned and tugged and pulled.
He just enjoyed, his hands loosely threaded in her hair as he moaned and groaned, enough that she said, “Shhh. Don’t wake the boss, or we’ll have to stop.”
He went rigid after that, and while she sucked, she looked up to see the strain on his face, the way the cords in his neck went taut.
Seeing his enjoyment only served to increase her own. Her sex clenched and grew wetter, the flesh pulsing in arousal, waiting impatiently for its turn.
She did debate letting him come in her mouth, sucking him until he couldn’t hold back anymore, but Kacy needed him inside her.
Needed him to claim her with his big, beautiful body.
With one last hard suck, she released him and rose to her feet. He stared at her, his eyes at half-mast, looking utterly sexy.
Still standing, she lifted her skirt, high enough for him to see the holsters around her thighs. She reached under and grabbed the edge of her panties, giving them a yank so they fell to her ankles. She stepped out of them before positioning herself over his erect shaft.
Hovering in mid-air, she let her nether lips brush against the tip of him. A quiver went through her.
His hands grabbed her around the waist, holding her steady. She eased herself onto him slowly, taking him inch by inch, feeling the stretch as he filled her completely. He felt so gloriously big.
And she wondered if he’d fit all the way, even as she kept sinking onto him, impaling herself on his length until he was fully sheathed.
Dear God, it felt incredible. Her flesh throbbed around him, and when his hips moved, pushing him deeper, her head flung back, and she let go of her skirt to grab hold of him, digging her fingers into his bare flesh.
He moved again, stretching her to perfection. Filling her up so tight that she couldn’t help but squeeze him. Every slight movement brought pleasure. The wiggle of her hips drove him deeper. The upward push of his cock touched her in that special spot that caused such a sweet jolt.
She couldn’t help but want more and more, so she ground herself against him, rocking in a steady but languorous rhythm.
Her orgasm coiled within her, pulling tighter and tighter, each push, each stroke, each grinding pressure bringing her closer and closer…
When she teetered on the edge, she buried her face against his shoulder and set her mouth on his skin.
Just in time.
As ecstasy rippled through her, she bit him rather than crying out and kept biting him as wave after wave swept through her.
The intensity was shocking.
The pleasure more than she could have imagined.
Spent, she would have collapsed on him in a heaving and boneless mess, except Marcus wasn’t done with her.
He still rested inside, rock-hard.
With his hands spanning her waist, he began to lift and push her down on his rigid length. Slamming her sensitized flesh, reigniting her passion, making the waves that had subsided wash through her anew as he managed to roll her into a second orgasm, the sound of which he stole by kissing her, drawing the scream that hung on the tip of her tongue into his mouth, just as her body drew his cream inside her, the muscles of her sex pumping him and giving him his own climax.
And it must have been good because, for a long while, they both just lay cuddled against each other, breathing hard, his hands lightly stroking her back.
“Are you okay?” he whispered at one point.
She managed a grunt of some kind. And then, because she was a smartass, said, “We didn’t break the couch.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She laughed. “Maybe it is. But can we try to wreck it later? I’m kind of comfy right now.” And she was, snuggled on his lap, sheltered in his arms. So secure she might have slept.
Possibly drooled.
But that didn’t stop her from slugging him when she awoke not long after the dawn to his teasing, “Think we have time for a quickie while Darren is in the shower?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The morning dawned bright and beautiful, despite the dark clouds on the horizon. Marcus couldn’t stop grinning, and so Kacy kept slugging him, but he didn’t mind because he caught her grinning more than once, too.
Despite the danger they might face until they left the island, Marcus had never been happier or more optimistic about the future. He’d found a woman who didn’t mind his rough edges and who could handle him, scars and all.
It was almost enough to make him forget that Darren wanted to ditch him.
But that hadn’t happened yet, and Marcus wouldn’t dwell on it. Not when he had an invitation to Kacy’s to look forward to.
Despite the commotion from the night before, a trip to the terrace for breakfast showed no one else planning to leave. Only Manuelo couldn’t handle the idea of danger.
Given the staff was down to a skeleton crew, breakfast was served buffet style. Since everyone ate out of the same dishes, Kacy didn’t taste Darren’s food; instead, she made them wait a few minutes for everyone else to take a few bites before allowing them to dig in.
Feeling a bit smart-assed this morning, in between mouthfuls of fluffy scrambled eggs, Marcus said, “What if it’s a slow-acting poison?”
“They’d still show signs first.” Kacy waggled a piece of bacon. “And, quite honestly, slow-acting poisons usually require numerous applications over a period of time. Everything else reacts fairly quickly.”
“Speaking of quickly. The window for leaving the island is fast departing. According to Gerard”— the manservant who’d greeted them on the dock—“the winds are too rough for flying out or even taking a boat.” Darren had spent a moment speaking to the man before sitting down to eat.
“So, no matter what, we’re stuck here?” Kacy asked.
“What a hardship, stuck on a tropical island,” Marcus griped. “Whatever shall we do?”
The kick under the table? Totally expected, as was the glare Kacy shot him.
He grinned because he knew she was now thinking of the things they could do—with each other.
“If we’re going to be stuck here at least one more day, then we should be cautious. Just because Stefanov evacuated the island doesn’t mean everyone left.” Kacy stuck to business.
“Or that some didn’t come back,” Marcus added with an ominous tone.
The paranoid statement earned him a smile. “Exactly. We need to stay on guard.”
Ding. Ding. Ding. The rap of a utensil against a glass drew attention to the center of the terrace, where Stefanov stood, his cream-colored slacks looking slightly rumpled, as did his open-necked white shirt. By his side, wearing big sunglasses in spite of the shade from the gazebo, was Francesca, her lips puckered in disapproval, an expression that turned into outright annoyance as Kacy deliberately placed her hand on Darren’s arm and smiled at him.
The moment Darren strayed over that line, though… It shocked Marcus to realize there were some things he wouldn’t forgive his best friend for.
But he doubted he had to worry overmuch about Darren putting the moves on Kacy. The idiot man couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from fixating on a certain brunette.
Did anyone else notice the heated intensity in Darren’s watchful eyes?
“Dear guests,” Stefanov said when he’d gotten their attention. “I regret the incidents of yesterday. I take full blame for not realizing my staff posed such a risk. As you must have heard by now, I had all but my longest employed and most loyal servants removed in order to assure your safety.” Stefanov looked genuinely bothered, and Francesca squeezed his arm and softly said something to him.
A drink held to his lips went unsipped. Darren’s grip on his mimosa tightened until the thin stem snapped. Before Marcus could act, Kacy discreetly grabbed the broken glassware and disposed of it under the table while Stefanov continued his speech.
“I appreciate the trust you place in me by deciding to stay so that we might further our friendship. Which is why, tonight, even though I’ve canceled the band originally scheduled to come, I hope that you will join Francesca and me for an evening event where we shall dance and eat, a celebration of what we are about to accomplish with those remaining.”
“So much for keeping it secret,” Kacy muttered.
“And now I’ve said too much.” Stefanov smiled, and a titter went through the group, not all of it genuine, some of it tinged with nervousness. “So, enjoy the day before the rain comes, and I shall see you this evening, hopefully able to make a grand announcement.”
With that, everyone raised a glass in silent acknowledgement, Darren’s being water since no one was around to replace his missing drink.
In spite of Marcus not seeing any signal, Darren, along with the other power moguls in the group, rose from their tables and congregated around Stefanov, following him to his inner sanctum, leaving those brought as plus ones and security detail alone.
Being alone didn’t mean Marcus could slide closer to Kacy. They both still had a role to play.
The redhead who’d come with the British fellow slipped into an empty chair at their table.
“Morning,” Kacy said. “Interesting night.”
“I don’t think we’ve seen anything yet,” said the woman called Willow. At least that was what Marcus thought Kacy had said her name was when she reported about her.
“I was told the helicopter and boat were out of commission,” Kacy noted, the glass she lifted to her lips hiding her words.
“So I heard, and yet it’s not that bad yet.”
“A storm is coming,” Kacy remarked.
“Something’s brewing, all right,” Willow said, the words serious, and yet her expression showed a bright smile to anyone watching. “And I am not talking about the weather.”
“Do you think we’re in danger?” Kacy asked from behind her napkin, both women careful to not let anyone see their mouths.
Were they worried about someone reading their lips?
“Keep your eyes open. I don’t trust our host.”
Funny thing, neither did Marcus.
Despite the gloomy day, and the way each group kept to themselves, with Willow not spending much time with them before opting to go off, Marcus and Kacy stayed on the terrace. Well, Kacy did. Marcus, on the other hand, left her on a few occasions to scout around. The island was like a ghost town. The many gardeners he’d gotten used to seeing now missing in action, the servants fetching towels and drinks notably absent.
Only Gerard, an older woman who acted as housekeeper, the chef, and a pair of security dudes in white shirts—unlike Marcus and the others in black—seemed to be left of the island staff.
The lack of people should have eased his mind. Instead, he could feel the knot of worry getting thicker.
When Darren emerged late afternoon from his meeting, he appeared quiet and withdrawn. He wouldn’t answer any questions as they returned to the cabana, but he did insist on borrowing Kacy’s phone.
He closeted himself in the bathroom with the water running, leaving his two bodyguards to pace outside.
“He’s not telling us something,” Kacy grumbled for like the hundredth time.
“Because he’s the boss. If it’s important, he’ll let us know.”
“He might not realize it’s important until too late,” she snapped back. Then sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be a bitch to you.”
“I’ve got big shoulders. I can handle it.”
“We should have left last night while we still could. I don’t like this, Marcus. I don’t like this at all. Something’s wrong,” she said, reiterating Willow’s earlier words.
“We’re here because Darren thinks we need to be. So, we’ll handle whatever happens and shoot anyone we don’t recognize at this point.”
For a moment, she gaped at him then smiled. “Yes, we will.”
He held on to that smile as the evening event approached. Kacy elected to dress in a lovely halter dress with her hair pinned up. She looked elegant and sexy. Not dangerous at all.
A quick frisk of her body while Darren got ready meant Marcus could assure himself she was armed—and wearing boy shorts instead of a lacy thong.
“What happened to the dental floss you had on yesterday?” he asked.
“Have you seen the wind outside? I am not flashing my ass to everyone if it happens to flip up my skirt. And besides, if shit’s going to happen and I have to run or climb, I’d like to not show everyone my papaya.”
“Good plan. I’d hate to have to shoot them.”
“For looking?” she queried.
“Yup. It’s mine.” He dragged her close for a kiss and didn’t let her up for air until she was good and flushed.
Darren cleared his throat. “Ahem, if you’re both done, shall we get going?”
The walk to the main house was done in silence, mostly because Kacy and Marcus, even Darren, kept a close eye on their surroundings. The lush foliage didn’t appear so lovely and tropical now, not with the gloomy skies overhead.
Despite the quiet of the walk, once they reached the terrace, with the music from hidden speakers sending out a pulsing, rhythmic beat, smiles appeared on faces as everyone remaining on the island as a guest converged and pretended that everything was okay.
Perhaps it was. Perhaps Stefanov had eliminated the problem plaguing his guests. And maybe no one else had landed on the island, hiding and biding their time.
Maybe…
Or this was the calm before the storm.
In either case, everyone faked it. Especially their host.
Stefanov held center stage, spinning Francesca in a rapid-fire dance that drew Darren’s eye.
Kacy did her best to distract him, constantly tugging Darren this way and that, trying to turn his attention from Francesca. To no avail.
The man couldn’t help himself. Just like in France, Darren found himself sucked in by Francesca.
Since Marcus couldn’t exactly punch his boss in public and call him an idiot, he had to content himself with surveying the room.
With the storm approaching, and the winds outside gusting, the soiree was being held indoors, but the room proved more than spacious. The high, vaulted ceilings with their wooden beams and the boards between them painted white, gave an impression of vast space.
Along the wall closest to the kitchen, a series of long tables were covered in white linen and laden with food. Platters of fresh fruit cut into bite-sized chunks. A chocolate fountain bubbled for those who wanted to give their fruit some added pizazz. Shrimp on a bed of crushed ice appeared plump, pink, and fresh. Brochettes held spiced meat charred on a grill, while salads and c
ouscous added a variety of side dishes.
Most only nibbled at the fare, just like the majority only sipped at their drinks. He saw more than one person dump a full glass into a potted plant then refill, pretending they’d drunk it.
Marcus didn’t eat or drink at all where he stood on the outskirts of the room. He kept his back to the windows overlooking the terrace and intently watched the couples circulating, noting their fake laughter and smiles filling the air. Everyone had his or her public masks in place.
There existed a certain tension among them, an anticipatory air. If there was a hint of fear or nervousness, no one showed it. They’d chosen to stay, chosen to accept the consequences. Curiosity drove them to find out what happened next.
It made Marcus wonder if perhaps he and Kacy should have pushed harder for information. Demanded that Darren give them answers. Didn’t he owe it to them? To me, his friend?
What did it mean when Darren had said they were planning to combine their resources? Why did they have to meet in such a clandestine location?
So many questions. It drove Kacy nuts that Darren had declared the talks confidential, but Marcus had spent time in the military, a long time, where those higher in the ranks made the decisions, and the foot soldiers followed orders.
But that was before he’d met Kacy. Now, he couldn’t wait to get off this island, to drop this charade so he could openly explore their burgeoning relationship. He couldn’t wait until they could spend more time talking and sharing, not just their bodies but also their thoughts.
She’s the first person since Darren that I’ve let get close to me. The first woman to ever see past the hard shell he’d encased himself in.
A new experience for him. For them both, actually.
While their childhoods had taken different paths, there were similarities in the fact that they didn’t trust many people, were loyal when they did, and had a love for war movies—especially critiquing them.
Despite the danger on the island, he couldn’t regret the time spent here, not when it had resulted in a sharing of bodies and minds that he’d never imagined possible.