by L. E Joyce
Paradise Found
Book 1
By L.E. Joyce
Copyright 2014 by L.E. Joyce
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author(s).
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, including ex-boyfriends, is completely coincidental.
Published by Midnight Heat Books, www.midnightheatbooks.com
Edited by Jodi Sh. Doff, [email protected]
Cover by Mind Fire Creative, [email protected]
Warning: This title contains explicit sexual encounters between consenting adults. It is intended for 18+ audiences. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
About Paradise Found
Bruno and Karen, two married, yet lonely, expatriates living in Thailand, risk everything when they find comfort in each other’s arms. Leaving their kids and spouses in the smoldering city of Bangkok, they steal away together for a hot weekend on a remote island off the coast of Phuket. Their forbidden affair is tested when they are invited to join a couple’s party on the beach where clothes are entirely optional.
Excerpt
“Are you ready for me, Karen?” he said.
She loved the way her name rolled off his lips, dark and accented. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. She returned his embrace by encircling his neck. His hands slowly slid down to her buttocks, where he squeezed the flesh tightly. She moaned softly, encouraging him.
“Feel me,” she said and gently guided his hand between her legs. “Can you tell that I’ve been ready for a long time?”
Bruno slid his hand under the soft fabric and caressed her folds. His touch sent shock waves through her body. He cupped her mound, rolling the flesh with his fingers until he found her most sensitive spot. He massaged it and she began to feel herself crumble in his arms.
Wrapping her legs around him, he lifted her off the floor and carried her to the bed. Finally, this was happening. Finally, she would feel him inside her. Bruno stood at the edge of the bed and lifted his shirt over his head, exposing his muscled chest and six pack abs. She loved that he was a hairy beast under his clothes. Man, all man, she thought to herself. He ran his hands down her thighs and with a sly smile, flipped her skirt up, high enough that it covered her face. Karen howled with laughter.
His playfulness lasted but a minute. Karen hissed as he eased off her panties. She felt the bed shift and hot breath course over her legs. He was near. He kissed her stomach, then hips, and then the soft flesh above her folds. With his face, he gently parted her legs. She welcomed him and braced for when his tease would meet its end.
“Do you know what I like about you?” he asked, his hot breath on her most sensitive spot.
“I don’t care, Bruno,” she said with choked gasps. “Just taste me.”
Bruno laughed. He swiped the skirt away from her face. “I like you because I can see the passion coursing through your veins. Now, watch me. Watch me taste you.”
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Contents
Paradise Found
About the Author
Other Works by L.E. Joyce
Bonus Excerpt
More from Midnight Heat Books
Paradise Found
One
Karen didn't hesitate when Bruno asked her to steal away with him to a secluded island off Phuket. Her breath caught, and she saw the corners of his mouth curl as if he could sense the very effect he had on her. She did not pause to consider the consequences; there was no wind in which to throw caution. She relished in the pure understanding that she was not crazy, that she wasn’t just seeing something she wished was there. Bruno wanted her, alone, for three days and two wild nights. All logic fell away. The jagged cracks in her core—he ever present reminder of her taxed marriage to the wrong man for too long—filled as her lusty daydreams of an affair with Bruno became reality.
“Welcome aboard AirAsia Flight 329 with service from Bangkok to Phuket.” The soft whispery voice of the Thai flight attendant spread through the cabin. As Karen settled herself in the window seat, her mind raced with the anticipation of landing. She couldn’t wait to see the crystal blue waters and pearl white sands again. She was looking forward to the sound of the surf at night, the way the beach quieted as the sun went to sleep and the moon stretched into the sky. She was especially looking forward to the escape from the steaming city of Bangkok. No time away from it was ever enough.
Bangkok: the City of Angels, where the world is your oyster–if you are a Western-farang man. Thai women threw themselves at her husband, Karen knew this, and pretended not to care. As a Chevron executive, the lifestyle Jack lavished upon her and their two kids was moderately excessive; she still did the school runs, though her driver sat behind the wheel, and Jack hadn’t reached the level warranting chartered jets. Yet. She needed nothing except for a warm touch of a man who wanted her. However, when she decided to have an affair of her own, she realized that farang women over the age of thirty-five were pariahs, and women bigger than a size zero were invisible.
Everything changed when she met Bruno. He was tall, olive skinned, and Portuguese–and didn’t have an eye for the Thai ladies. She didn’t care that he was married to a top diplomat at the Portuguese embassy. She didn’t care that the four of them: Bruno, Marianna, Jack, and herself had all become friends and socialized often. The only thing that mattered was the next time she’d see him.
A flight attendant made her way down the aisle assisting boarding passengers with their carry-on bags. She smiled at Bruno sitting in the next row over, and lightly placed her hand on his shoulder. Three words ran through Karen’s mind. Skinny. Thai. Bitch. She didn't like that they had to sit separately, especially on a flight where the attendants looked like size-zero China dolls with boob jobs. But Bruno was right; it was for the best. What if people from their prospective communities spotted them together? Portuguese diplomats and American expats didn't cross paths except at school and playgroups, always an interaction involving their children. She didn't want the cover blown off her forbidden affair before it had a chance to begin.
From the next row, Bruno looked over and smiled. She blushed and her crotch got warm. She couldn’t help it. He could do things to her without even touching her flesh. She watched as he removed his cell phone from his pocket and began typing. Probably checking in with Marianna, she thought to herself. For a moment, calling Jack crossed her mind, but she knew better. He didn’t care where she went, or what she did. He only cared that she didn’t leave. Ladder-climbing divorced oil executives didn’t bode well at promotion time. He wanted to keep her in the marriage for the show.
Her cell phone buzzed. A new text. From Bruno.
Lick, it said.
This was a game that he liked to play. He liked to mess with her, arouse her, at the most inconvenient times and in the most inconvenient of places.
> And she loved to play along.
Suck, she typed.
Bruno: Tell me...
Karen thought for a moment then pounded the keys on her phone: You are lying on your bed. I’m in the shower. I’ve been in there way too long…
Bruno: And?
Karen: The curtain open, and I don’t even bother with a towel. You roll over and watch me sink to my knees…
Bruno: And?
Karen: And slide you into my mouth. But you are impatient. You want more...
Karen: You push my head away, and bring me to standing. You kiss me hard and hot on the mouth.
Karen: You take charge, because waiting is not your game, and throw me on my stomach on the bed...
Karen: I feel the bed give as you climb on top, and I gasp as you push inside me…
Karen: How was that?
She looked over at Bruno. With a flushed face, he fanned his shirt, a gesture that meant she had won the round.
The soft voice of the Thai flight attendant came over the loudspeaker again. “Ladies and gentleman. We have closed the cabin doors and it is now time to stow all electronic devices.”
As she moved to power off her phone, she received one last text.
I’m sorry…but you are going to enjoy your…vacation…several times a night. I’m sorry… that we didn’t do this sooner…I’m sorry…that you’ll have to wait until we land so I can finally rub my face all over that steaming hot pussy of yours.
Karen’s mouth went dry. She had been overthrown in seconds. She focused on the moving ground outside the plane and tried not to look at him. Karen shifted in her seat. Her pussy throbbed, and she could feel her panties soaking wet with need. How did he do it? How did he melt her like that? She had talked dirty with countless men before Jack, yet this one struck to the core of her– all control, sense, and reason abandoned her whenever he was near.
She would do anything for him, and she hoped that he’d do the same for her, and to her. She smiled at that thought–the two of them in their bungalow on the beach, fucking and sleeping and eating and drinking and fucking the weekend away. The tiny island resort they had booked was secluded and remote–just what they liked and needed. The only way to access it was by long tail boat from Phuket’s southern fishing pier. The path to this island was so hidden that there were not enough markers beyond sand and sea to find them.
As the plane gained speed and pushed into the sky, Karen held on to the armrest. She was a nervous takeoff flyer, and wished Bruno was next to her. As they climbed, Karen clutched her seat, her eyes sealed shut, holding on for dear life.
Finally, she heard the thirty-minute ding and the soft voice of the flight attendant.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached a cruising altitude where it is safe to move about the cabin.”
Karen let go of the armrest and steadied her breathing. Bruno’s curly dark head sunk deep into the headrest. He was asleep, she was sure of it. She looked to the back of the plane and saw the green light over the restroom indicating it was free. She unhooked her seat belt, and stepped lightly down the aisle toward the bathroom. For a moment she thought she would finish off what remained of her arousal that takeoff didn’t extinguish, but decided she’d wait for Bruno to do the honors when they arrived on their island.
Their island. Their secret island. Whatever was in store for her when they landed, she already knew she didn’t want it to end.
Inside the cramped airplane bathroom, Karen ran cool water over her face and neck. Her long dark hair had frizzed out of the hair band she had hastily fixed before leaving her apartment. She removed the band and smoothed out her curly tresses before twisting it all back into place. It had only been three hours since she left her kids and husband in Bangkok, saying she had to leave on a rush field assignment for Asian Travel magazine. Jack had known better, of course, and only said, “See you when you get home,” before she slipped out the door. The kids would be fine; Jack with all his faults, was good father and great at making things look perfect.
With her anticipation mounting, Karen smiled at herself in the mirror and remembered how she got here, on this plane, with Bruno only a few seats away.
The night he asked her to steal away with him, they were at their regular Friday expat playgroup, Happy Hour Playgroup. They had spent the time chatting in a corner at the bar, while kids and other parents roamed the host’s five thousand square foot apartment. Five thousand square feet in Bangkok was the norm. Any less would mean a fruit and veggie tray on the food table and no booze. Any more meant house staff would serve hors d'oeuvres on bamboo trays while the host’s nannies followed kids around on their hands and knees. Five thousand square feet gave Bruno and Karen enough room to be alone in plain sight. None of the other parents had caught on yet, at least that’s what she was telling herself. For the last year, Bruno was the only stay at home dad to regularly attend their playgroup, and Karen had convinced herself it was all because of her. Maybe he had already made the rounds with everyone else and had finally made his way to her? She didn’t care. The attention he paid her filled her up, and she didn’t want it to stop.
After three cocktails and several shredded napkins later, their conversation had turned to Phuket. They talked about how they loved Phuket more than Krabi, and how their spouses hated it, how they complained of sand everywhere and the yawning stretches of nothing to do.
"Nothing to do? Watching the sea is something! Swimming her crystal blue waters is something!" Bruno held up his mojito glass to meet hers.
"Cheers!” Karen said, clinking his glass. "We should leave our grumpy spouses and take the kids to paradise ourselves."
"I’ll drink to that!" Bruno said, his Portuguese accent thickening with every sip.
He grew quiet then, and Karen was sure she had overstepped a boundary. He stared at his glass, swishing the remaining mint and ice around the bottom. And then he said it. He spoke in a low whisper that she almost didn't register his words.
"Maybe we should leave my grumpy wife and your grumpy husband, and all our kids, and take a trip to Phuket by ourselves."
Every moment Karen had spent pining for Bruno was justified–he wanted her. It wasn’t all wishful thinking. It wasn’t all in her head.
There was an unexpected knock at the bathroom door. She lifted the latch and found Bruno standing there, looking over his shoulder.
“Quick, before the flight attendant comes back.”
She let him in. The two stood face to face, their chests heaving with excitement. His scent engulfed her; he smelled of musk and man and the cologne she bought him as a secret Santa gift. Bruno grabbed her around the waist and yanked her towards him, crushing his lips to hers. He groaned as his tongue swept the inside of her mouth.
She slid a hand down the front of his Bermuda shorts, kissing his lips, his face, his neck, and his chest. He was rock hard and moaned softly as she unwound him. Overcome, he grabbed her hair in his hand and kissed her with a hunger that made her nipples peek. She stroked his shaft as her tongue darted inside his mouth.
“If you keep it up, you are going to unman me,” Bruno said with short caught breaths.
Unman him? Who talks like that? No one she had ever met before.
She kept her eyes trained on him as she slowly lowered to her knees. He hissed as she slid him into her mouth, inch by inch.
“My god,” he said, a little too loud.
“Shhhh,” she playfully scolded him. “If you keep that up, we'll be found out. You don't want that do you?" she cooed, gingerly stroking his length.
Her tease of him was too much to bear. Holding his cock in his hand, he placed himself onto her lips, urging her to take him in. “You are driving me crazy,” he whispered.
She toyed with him. Deeper and deeper she inhaled him into her mouth, lapping the fat head with her tongue, and then swallowing him up again. She grew more determined, faster and faster she pumped on his cock. Needing air, she withdrew him from her mouth, and feverishly str
oked him off, her hand gliding over his slippery wet cock.
"Come for me, baby,” she said.
That did him in. With a groan through clenched teeth, every ounce of control in him was released, and he was lost to her. Hot surrender poured into her waiting mouth, and she eagerly drank it up.
He brought her up to standing and kissed her long and wet on the lips. He hugged her tight, cradling the back of her head in his hands. The sudden affection shocked her. She was turned inside out by his lusty touches, but this kind of passion undid her in a way that was both foreign and terrifying.
A jolt of turbulence rocked them out of their embrace.
“We should get back,” he whispered.
“You go first and I’ll follow.”
He planted one last hot kiss on her lips and she was shattered all over again. How? she thought. How was she going to survive this weekend if he kept on kissing her like that?
Two
When they landed at Phuket International Airport, Bruno gripped Karen’s arm and guided her through the throngs of people milling around baggage claim. He wouldn’t let her carry her own bag and grabbed it from her hand the moment she retrieved it from the carousel. It must be a Mediterranean thing, she said to herself. His protective grasp made her feel attractive in a way she never thought possible. As they walked in hurried steps, she stole glances of him. His light olive skin and dark curly hair alluded Portuguese hotness. His chiseled jaw and Roman nose told of a genetic history her own mutt-Americana could never understand. In Portugal, there were libraries older than her own country’s constitution.
Outside, Bruno handed their bags to a stout Thai man holding a sign that said, “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” Karen giggled at the intrigue. He held the door open for her. She eased herself into the back seat, and he bounded in after her. As the driver stowed their luggage in the trunk, Bruno took her head in his hands and kissed her hard on the mouth. Heat throbbed between her legs. As if reading her mind, he shot one hand under her skirt and squeezed her mons over her panties. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her head shot back, and he kissed her throat as he softly caressed the moist white fabric.