South Seas Seduction

by Anita Kidesu

  “Why didn’t your father realize Francois wasn’t Jean Paul? And what about his parents?” Steve asked.

  “My father never actually met Jean Paul, so it would have been easy for Francois to impersonate him.” Emma rubbed her empty ring finger. “Francois told us his parents were in mourning over the death of his grandmother. We had no reason to doubt him.”

  “Did you even like him?” Steve asked.

  “He was all right. Nice manners. Quite good-looking if you like the slicked back, perfect persona. He knew exactly what to say to impress my parents.” She smiled at the men. “I rather like the rugged, skimpily dressed kind myself. His true colors came out at night after he turned off the lights.”

  “Did you talk to anyone about him?” Toby asked.

  Emma laughed. “Who would I talk to? My parents? His parents? Any friends I had in school were either happily married or working until they could find the right man. My best friend, Maria, was also matched up by her parents and married someone they knew would be compatible with her. They also gave them time to get acquainted, and they fell in love. She’s so happy that I knew she wouldn’t understand.” Emma closed her eyes and moaned. “I’m such a moron.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Emma,” Steve said. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little naïve.”

  Emma heart swelled. How wonderful to have someone, and in this case several someones, listen to and understand her. “Well, a proper young lady never travels alone and is always chaperoned. Let me tell you, my chaperone never took her eyes off me. If a man even took one step toward me, she warded him off like the plague. One move from her six-foot frame and they ran off and cowered under the nearest chair.”

  Toby raised his eyebrows. “Your chaperone was six feet tall?”

  “Did I say six feet tall? I meant six-feet wide and maybe five feet tall.”

  The men stared at her.

  “I’m kidding,” she laughed. “Actually she was a pleasant woman but was as protective as a she-bear. I spent more time with her than my parents. She was in her forties, carried a few extra pounds, wore her hair in a tight bun, and rarely smiled except when alone with me. She took her duties to heart.”

  “Couldn’t you talk to her about him?” Jack asked.

  “Oh, my, no.” Emma giggled. “She almost fainted when couples kissed in public. I practically had to refill her smelling salts every hour when we visited France.”

  “What happened to her after your marriage?” Steve asked.

  “We moved into my grandmother’s house in Washington D.C. Grandma died a few years back, and her will stated that once I married I’d inherit her house, belongings, and money. After my wedding, I couldn’t let Maria go, so she moved into the house and now acts as housekeeper.”

  Jack stood and stretched, giving Emma a view of his toned and muscled body. Even flaccid, his cock sent tingles to her toes.

  “All this talk has made me hungry again, and my skin is wrinkling. Why don’t we get something from the cave and spend the rest of the day up here? I want to show you the letter again.” He stepped from the pool.

  To Emma’s disappointment, he put on his shorts and headed toward the cave.

  Curious at what was so important that he was able to walk across the ridge by himself, Toby, Steve, and Emma dressed and followed. By the time they rounded the curve of the mountain and reached the walkway, Jack was already inside the cave. Torches were lit when they entered. Jack dug through another bag.

  “Damn, where’s the letter?” he muttered. “Ah, here it is!” He held up the piece of paper. “You guys get some canned meat and corn, and let’s make a fire by the pool.” He walked back out of the cave and disappeared.

  “Jack, wait,” Emma called, racing to catch up with his long strides. “I’ve been thinking about the letter, but don’t remember the details. I guess I’ve just been thinking about you guys.”

  Jack glanced at her but didn’t stop. “We’ll discuss this after we eat. I’m too hungry right now. Emma,” he started then hesitated, “is there anything about your husband you’re not telling us?”

  “Like what? As far as I know his family is rich. They own several wineries in France. He has a couple of brothers and sisters.”

  “Did he tell you the story or did your parents?”

  Emma thought for a minute. “I’m not sure.”

  “Are you sure his family is rich?”

  Toby pointed to the paper in Jack’s hand. “What’s with all these questions?”

  “It’s all right, Toby,” Emma said. “I think they’re rich—his parents anyway. When I asked him about our finances he always said wives shouldn’t question money matters. My grandmother’s money is safe because it’s in my name, not his or ours. He can’t touch my inheritance.”

  Jack sighed and opened up the paper. “What if you died?”

  Steve took the paper from Jack’s hands. After scanning it, he turned to Emma. “I forgot that part of the letter. I only concentrated on whether you were married or not. Answer his question, Emma. So, what happens to your inheritance if you died?”

  A frown creased her forehead. “Well, I suppose it goes to Francois. Doesn’t a husband inherit his wife’s money?”

  “Well, he must think so,” Jack said dryly. “Depends on whether you had a will leaving your money to someone else. But he committed fraud, so your marriage isn’t legal. Read the letter again, Emma.”

  “But if he thinks Emma is dead…” Steve handed the crumpled paper to her.

  Emma pressed the letter against her bare leg and read.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Oh, God, I’m going to be sick,” Emma cried, dropping the letter to the ground. She jumped away from the offending paper.

  Jack followed, holding her while she emptied the contents of her stomach. “That son of a bitch,” she groaned in between retches. “That rotten, no good bastard. He wanted to kill me. He wanted to kill my family.”

  “But he didn’t, Emma,” Jack said, pulling her long hair from her face.

  Emma wrapped her arms around her waist and groaned. “Why did he want to kill me? I wonder if he sabotaged my ticket just to get me on your plane. He knew Sebastian would be on it.”

  “Let’s not talk about this right now,” Jack suggested, guiding her back to the pool.

  She continued to shake as the men eased her into the warm water. Steve grabbed a rag and wiped her face. He poured water over her head, lathered his hands, and gently massaged her scalp. Likewise, Toby and Jack calmly washed her arms and legs, letting the tenderness of their movements soothe her mind.

  “You guys are the best.” she whispered, tears flowing again.

  “Yeah, we’re swell,” Jack murmured as he washed her feet.

  “You are. Look how you’re taking care of me, and this time you aren’t thinking of sex.”

  “How can you tell?” Steve asked, rinsing soap from her hair.

  “My clothes are still on.”

  The three men stopped and grinned at each other. She was right. Their concern for her wellbeing was so powerful they hadn’t considered their own needs. Having sex with Emma had been the last thing on their minds.

  “Well, as long as we’re so wonderful…” Steve said.

  “And before we lose sight of this wonderfulness…” Toby added.

  Jack smirked at Toby and Steve. “Let’s sit down and figure out why Francois wanted to kill Emma and her family.” He helped Emma wade through the water. They sat on the edge of the pool. “Emma, why did the letter make you sick today and not the other day when I first showed it to you?”

  Emma folded her arms across her breasts. “I guess denial. I did think about what he wrote, and it helped in my decision to be with you guys. Like I told you, Jack, my parents’ society teaches women and men to hold their emotions in. Emotions are a sign of weakness and can be used against a person by their enemies.” She sighed and gave them each a soft smile. “I believe you opened up a new me. I’m
even swearing, for Pete’s sake.

  Steve laughed. “We noticed.”

  “I don’t understand why he wanted to kill me,” Emma said, splashing her toes in the water. “I’d have given him money if that’s what he wanted.”

  Jack stepped out of the water and sat beside her. “I think he wanted more than money. I believe he thought of it as a way out of his marriage and a way to be with his male lover.”

  “Why didn’t he simply divorce me?”

  “On what grounds? He’s a homosexual?” Steve shook his head. “His life would be hell. Probably knew it, too. Besides, he knows the marriage is a fraud. You can’t divorce if you’re not married.”

  “But murder? Seems a little extreme to me.”

  “He probably thinks he got away with it,” Toby said.

  “How do you figure?” Jack asked, pulling the bottle of brandy back out of the bag. A few swigs would help calm them all down. All of them could have died along with Emma.

  “Sounds like Sebastian was supposed to hire someone to kill Emma and her family. What if he did the deed himself so he wouldn’t need to share the money?”

  Jack held up the bottle. “What about the booze, cigars, and stuff?”

  “Maybe the other two guys and woman were the ones dealing in the black market and found this as a way to make extra money,” Toby said, taking the bottle and checking the level of the liquid before taking a swallow.

  Steve took the bottle from Toby and took several swallows before he passed it on to Emma. “Maybe he didn’t trust Francois and wanted to make sure he had some money of his own.”

  “The asshole probably had a reason not to trust the bastard.” Emma wiped off the end of the bottle and took a swallow, then another.

  Toby raised an eyebrow and smiled at the others. It was rare for Emma to swear, but once started, she caught on in a big way. “You could be right. So let’s say Francois, the bastard…”

  Emma giggled. “I like the title. It has a certain ring. Francois, the Bastard. Kind of like King Henry the Eighth.” She swung the bottle back and forth in a toast and sang. “Francois the bastard, he was a little prick. He couldn’t fuck his Emma with his little dick.”

  “Oh man, she’s plastered again.” Steve said, laughing at her antics.

  Jack joined in their laughter and pried the bottle from her hands. “Hate to see you spill any of this stuff. You make up a damn good song, though. So, Toby, go on with your tale.”

  “Yeah, Toby, go on with your tale,” Emma giggled, “and then you’ll get a little tail—Emma tail, anyway.”

  “Where did she learn about tail?” Toby asked. “I thought she didn’t know anything about sex.”

  Jack shrugged. “Hey, Emma, where did you learn about getting some tail?”

  “Oh.” She hiccupped. “One time when Jean Paul—I mean Francois—wanted to try putting his disgusting thing in me, he said at least I had a nice tail and he wished he could get some. He was rubbing my ass at the time, so I kinda figured what he was talking about.”

  “Good guess, babe,” Toby said, turning back to the men. “So, anyway. Here’s what I think. Francois and Sebastian are lovers. He needs money and wants to be with his lover. Francois kills Jean Paul and assumes his identity to leave France and marry you. If they take out Emma’s family, he would probably inherit her folks’ money, too. Sound right, Emma?”

  “I don’t know what’s in my parents’ will. I’m sure everything would go to my brother, but if he was dead, too, I guess my husband would inherit.”

  “So the two of them decide to kill off the entire family and make it look like an accident.”

  “Sounds evil to me,” Steve said.

  “Of course it is,” Toby continued. “But since they were killed before the plane crashed and Emma’s parents weren’t on the plane, all Francois knows is Emma is missing and probably presumed dead. Since he hasn’t heard from Sebastian, he can only assume he’s dead, too.”

  Jack ran a hand over his jaw. “Or he could assume Sebastian didn’t love him and left with the money.”

  Emma rubbed her nose and sneezed. “I remember a Sebastian at the wedding. Jean Paul introduced him as his best friend. He gave me the creeps. I believe he would make sure he got the fifty grand before leaving. Or at least hang around long enough to get out of the relationship what he could.”

  “Was it the same guy on the plane?” Jack asked.

  Emma thought for a minute. “I think so, but I’m not sure. The Sebastian I met didn’t have a beard or mustache, but a man can grow one easily enough.”

  Steve reached out to Jack for the brandy. He draped the bottle between his fingers. “So right now, Francois is either grieving for his lover or happy for not having to spend another fifty grand while still losing a wife and inheriting, what, millions?”

  “Easily,” Emma answered.

  “Shit,” Jack muttered.

  “What do we do now?” Emma asked.

  Toby passed a hand down the back of his neck. “What do you mean, what do we do now?”

  “I mean how can we get the bastard for trying to kill us?”

  Jack laughed, throwing an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot we can do, seeing as we’re stuck on this island in the middle of the ocean for heaven knows how long.”

  “Well, hold on to the letter for me, Jack, because once we’re rescued, I’m going to get the slimy bastard,” she slurred before passing out in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Emma sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe they’d been on the island six months already. Tonight the men did the dishes since she’d cooked. She smiled at the idea of her cooking. Before crashing on the island, the sum knowledge of her cooking skills would fit on the tip of her little finger. Now, after six months, she could at least cook over a fire. She wasn’t so sure what would happen if given a stove and proper utensils.

  She wriggled in her chair as her stomach cramped. Thank goodness she’d gotten her period again. Each month since that first night together, they all fretted until her flow started. In order to make the supply of condoms last, they followed her cycle carefully and used them only when she was the most fertile. They all understood accidents happened. Even as much as she loved these guys and they loved her, making a baby, even with a doctor in their midst, would be a big mistake.

  She imagined the headlines after their rescue:

  Heiress castaway finally rescued after months on island with three men. Returns with child. Who is the father?

  Yes, definitely better not to get pregnant.

  It still amazed her to see the many differences in each man. They smelled different, tasted different, and made love differently.

  Dr. Toby. He seemed to think it was his mission to educate her on the human body. Sometimes he seemed to be “playing doctor” as little kids often did. In one examination, he spread her lips apart, put his fingers in her, and explained each part as she listened. One day he brought a mirror to the cave. While she reclined in the bed with her legs wide open, he put the mirror up to her pussy and made her examine herself.

  Although an interesting anatomy lesson, she didn’t think her pussy was as interesting as the men seemed to think, but watching him slide his fingers in and out of her turned her on more than she imagined.

  Steve. Poor, misguided Steve. A man who wanted to prove he was as worthy as Jack and Toby, but deep down was a shy little boy. On the nights they all spent together he was outgoing, ready to strut his erect cock around like a rooster in a henhouse. He slammed himself into her as hard as the others.

  As much as she enjoyed his roughness, she also looked forward to their times together when, lying in the makeshift bed, he would gently caress her body and bring her to orgasm in slow, methodic ways. He joined his body to hers with reverence, like she was the most precious thing in the world. And he always thanked her afterwards. Once she asked him why. He replied she was a gift; each time she let hi
m come in her, she gave him something priceless.

  He taught her about famous authors like Shakespeare, Voltaire, the Bronte Sisters, Dickens, and Shaw. The man had a photographic memory and recited plays and poetry at the drop of a hat. It was something he never told Jack and Toby, afraid they would laugh at him. Emma couldn’t convince him they wouldn’t. He also shared some of his own stories and poems.

  Then there was Jack, the adventurer. She understood now why he flew a plane from island to island. Every day was an adventure, something new around every corner. She never guessed what he would do. Sometimes on their evenings alone, he’d hold her hand as they walked up the hill to the cave and tell her stories of his travels. Other times they’d barely make it out of sight of the others before he ripped off her clothes, threw her to the ground, and rammed into her.

  The others mainly made love to her in the cave. With Jack they used the pool, the lake, or the cove where he first approached her about making love with the three of them. The positions varied as much as the sites.

  “We’re going to try something different tonight, Emma-girl,” Jack said, entering the cave. He touched his torch to the ones already there, casting a glow Emma referred to as the sex lights.

  Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and couldn’t think of anything new or different they hadn’t already tried. She loved them all so far. “What are we doing?” she murmured against his lips. Her pussy flared to life in anticipation of the next adventure.

  He ran his hands down her back and grabbed her ass. “Before we start, you need to choose a safeword.”

  She leaned back in his arms and looked up into his eyes. “A safeword?”

  “It’s a word you say if you don’t like what I’m doing and want me to stop. We should have had you pick one a long time ago.”

  “I’ve never wanted you guys to stop anything so far,” she whispered, intrigued, yet worried about what he had in mind. “I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve done with me.”