by Kira Blakely
I checked in with the resort and learned their damage was minimal and had already been dealt with. I asked them to send staff to take care of the damage at Vermilion Key. “Bring me a half dozen charged batteries that will work with my phone and have the kitchens prepare two days’ worth of meals. No power here, so we can’t refrigerate. I can build a fire in the barbecue, though, so tell Chef to package in foil. More importantly, get someone out here immediately to fix the power.”
I gave them a few more sundry instructions and then signed off, wanting to conserve my phone battery. Picking my way through shards of glass, I opened the refrigerator to retrieve something we might eat in the meantime. It was still cold inside, but this would be the last time I’d trust it. I’d have it restocked when my crew arrived.
I grabbed some fruit from the Moroccan bowl on the counter and a bottle of champagne. No power, no pump for the water.
Balancing my armload, I took the steps as quietly as possible. Harper was still asleep, her back to me. I climbed back into the bed, arranged the food as attractively as I could and blew in her ear. After all, this was our first morning after and I wanted it nice for her. “How about a little nourishment?” I whispered, leaning over her to kiss her cheek.
Harper came up like she’d been bitten. She had a look of almost terror on her face and something akin to anger as she looked at me. She was still half asleep as far as I could tell so I waited for her to wake up. “You would think you’d let me recover a minute – for God’s sake, Bray!”
I jerked back in surprise. “What the hell? Harper, wake up! Recover? What are you talking about?”
She looked at me then and seemed puzzled, if not even surprised. Her hand shot into the blankets between us as if she was searching for something. Her lips parted with a look of victory as her arm shot up into the air. She was holding a banana I’d brought up. “Oh.”
“What?”
She looked away quickly. “Nothing.”
“No way. You can’t have a reaction like that and not explain yourself. What’s wrong?”
She let her hair fall forward to cover most of her face and then looked at me sidelong, flushed and obviously embarrassed. “I thought… I thought that thing sticking into my bottom was… you.”
“Me?” Then I realized what she was talking about. “No, sweetheart, I may be hard but I don’t require peeling, not to mention I sure hope you’d react a little better if it had been me!”
We both burst into giggles, and she threw a pillow at my groin.
“Hey! I brought up food, and you’re going to smash it!”
She picked up the banana and turned to face me. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and lifted the banana to her mouth, licking the tip. With red-tipped nails, she turned the fruit slowly, running her fingertip over it as if looking for that sensitive spot that would make it burst open on its own.
Something molten shot into my groin, and I was finding it difficult to sit still. With the tip of her finger, she first stroked the fruit and then formed a circle with her index finger and thumb, forming a collar. She slowly pumped the banana through the finger collar and as it came to her mouth, she used her teeth to nip at it, easing the peel downward in sections. Soon there was nothing left but the raw fruit and this she held high overhead and then opened her mouth like a sword-swallower and eased the banana into its depths.
Like a fourteen-year-old in the shower, I spilled my seed, then and there. I wanted that mouth on me, but the illusion was almost stronger than the reality. I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes, psychosomatically feeling her lips and mouth on me. I watched from behind barely-opened eyelids and this added a distorted haze that took me into her, if only in my mind. When she licked the flesh of the fruit, her tongue was stroking me. I’d never experienced anything so erotic in my life and I knew subconsciously I never would again, unless it was Harper with me.
She laughed, a wicked sound. Breaking my spell, she reached over and tickled me, chomping the banana quickly until it was gone. “Never underestimate me, Bray. You’ll live to regret it.”
I didn’t doubt her one bit.
I reached to touch her, wanting to pleasure her, but she pulled away. “No,” she said in a tone of finality.
“Why? Turnabout is fair play,” I pleaded, knowing I would get just as much pleasure from it as she would.
“I’m not like you,” she said.
I sat up. “What do you mean ‘not like me?’”
She made an exasperated sound. “You’re more experienced, you know things. I– I’ve not been with people like you have.”
“Baby, you don’t need to worry. I’m glad you’re the way you are. I want to show you things.”
“Like what? Kinky things?”
“No, well, not at first, at least.”
She didn’t like that response and was off the bed in a flash and headed into the bathroom. I decided to let it go for the moment. I could hear the sounds of boat motors and knew my crews were on their way. I got up and tapped on the door. “I’ve got clean-up crews coming, so don’t come downstairs naked or anything,” I warned her.
I heard something hit the door. I hoped she’d hadn’t thrown the antique vase that sat on the edge of the tub. Shrugging, I laughed and headed downstairs to meet the boats.
Chapter 15
Harper
I watched from the window as long as I could, but eventually, the cleaners had come upstairs and there was no way around it. I had to go outside, so I headed for the guest cottage where I was staying. I hoped no one had noticed. What is wrong with me? I had this crazy feeling I was supposed to be kept under wraps. I felt like a kept woman who wasn’t good enough for the boss to marry, but he’d sleep with her because she was a conquest from the old days he’d finally managed to bed.
Why did I think like that? I knew it was in my head, but it felt more like it was in my veins; a component of my blood making me Type A or B, except that I was a Type S, for slut. I knew one thing for sure—it made me feel like crap.
Other than being without power, the cottage was for the most part exactly as I’d left it. There was some dirt on the window exterior, but one of Brayden’s people had that soon removed. I’d pulled out some garbage bags and was emptying the contents of the refrigerator into them when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a pleasant young woman in a pale blue work jumper. Like a fly on honey, she was in my refrigerator, dumping the contents. She washed it thoroughly and, as she left with the bags, she flipped the switch for the ceiling fan over the table. “That way you’ll know when the power is back,” she explained and gave me a pseudo salute as she closed the door behind her.
I went into my bedroom and looked at the array of brightly-colored clothing strewn across my bed. My original plan had been to bring Brayden in and show him what I’d bought. Things had gone another direction, though, so I busied myself hanging up my new things in the closet. I knew, without a doubt, I’d only had to open the door and waggle a finger and someone would have been in my room doing it for me. It seemed that Brayden had the whole world conditioned to respond to a waggled finger. Even me.
I hated myself in this mood. It was like some kind of dark cloud of depression. I seemed determined to see the worst in everything. There I was, in paradise, and I could still find fault. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be around me in this mood.
I heard a subtle noise and walked into the next room to see the fan blade circling. The power had come back on. I looked out and saw that this had only heightened the activity outdoors. Like a murder of crows descending on carrion, the disruption disappeared and the entire island was left looking untouched. Another knock at my door brought in the same young woman, except this time she was trailed by several young men with boxes. She opened my refrigerator, restocked it in almost the exact way I’d left it, tapped the brim of her hat and left. Was I living in a movie?
I securely locked my door and headed into my shower. I didn’t want to emerge t
o find someone vacuuming my floor as I stood by naked and waited for them to finish. My vanity was covered with colors and powders Meghan and I had purchased at the cosmetic counters. I played a bit with the concoction, at least until my hair had dried into its normal confusion of ringlets.
I pulled a one-piece shorts jumper from the closet and layered it over a lilac blue t-shirt. It seemed like a good idea to wear shoes, so I threw on some multi-colored thongs and headed out.
I found Brayden central to the activity. There were men on the roof of the boathouse, hammers wildly beating a progressing rhythm. A coconut palm was lying nearby, neatly chopped into small, manageable chunks that I knew would soon disappear. Even its coconut fruit was piled liked so many cannonballs ready to be fired at the enemy. In Brayden’s case, disorder was his enemy.
He saw me, smiled and came over, lifting me off my feet in a giant bear hug topped with a kiss. “Power’s back on,” he said, setting me down.
“Yes, your little gal who cleaned my refrigerator left the fan on to cue me.”
“I do like efficiency,” he mused as he watched the men on the boathouse.
“Apparently,” I commented dryly and he gave me a startled look.
“Did they disrupt you somehow?” I knew he was being sincere and stored my mockery away in that lonely dark place of my brain where I go when I’m feeling out of place.
I shook my head. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Nope. Just find somewhere to perch and if you see something that needs fixing or clean-up, let one of my people know.”
His people? What is he, like a king or something? What the hell is the matter with me? I’m acting like a royal bitch and this isn’t me, at all.
“Have you talked to Meghan?” I asked, although I already knew his answer. He was a watchful wolf, if nothing else.
“She’s fine and no damage there. Told me she’s met some girls next door and they’re going to watch horror movies tonight. I think she’s lonely, Harper. What do you think?”
“Of course, she is. She’s been stuck out here with her uncle and an old lady who has a highly superstitious mind. She’s at that age when friends are everything. I should know. I was that age once.”
He looked down at me. “Indeed, you were. I seem to remember. And you are just as ripe and luscious now as you were back then. If these people weren’t here… well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.” He smiled and gave me a pat on the butt to push me toward the lounge chairs around the pool.
That’s when I knew what was wrong. I hadn’t been able to put a finger on it until that very moment. He was being too nice and too own-ery. Everything in sight, including me now, belonged to him. He liked control, liked knowing the numbers in each column. I was that last piece he couldn’t have, but now that had been resolved. I was owned!
I hated that feeling! It made me think of my father and how he’d taken it for granted that my mother would never leave him, never desert him. She had paid for the pleasure in his life by donating her own. I’d sworn no man would ever treat me like that and there I was, in the guest house with my license and registration in his glove box. He owned me.
I threw myself onto a lounge chair and crossed my arms over my chest in disgust at myself. That’s when I stopped and looked around. I was being a pain, a real brat. No better than Dougie when he threw a fit. Brayden had worked hard for what he had. He was providing good jobs for a great many people and he had asked nothing of me. I’d given it, freely. In fact, I’d practically put a bow on it and served myself on a platter. How could I fault him for that?
I couldn’t and I knew better. I was embarrassed and looked around to see who might have witnessed my little hissy fit. No one paid attention to me and that was when I had my aha moment.
No one was watching. No one cared. Why not? Because the wealthier you are, the more invisible you become. You can afford to pay people to look the other way. It was sort of like having your gyno exam and knowing that the doctor was not putting moves on you. He looked at pussies all day long! I was nothing more than another pussy!
I felt this enormous sense of relief. It was almost as if an embodied spirit had been trapped inside me and now rose out and above me and then poof! It was gone. I drew in a deep breath and started looking around. I’d clung to the notion that people were watching and judging my entire life. I wanted to be a little naughty, to be get into trouble just a tiny bit. It could be fun. I’d always been held back by the notion that someone wouldn’t approve and there would be hell to pay. I was literally a tight ass!
Armed with my newfound enlightenment, I began to plot how I would exploit this new sense of freedom. My eyes fell on Brayden. Who better to try it out on?
That’s when karma entered the picture. My phone dinged with a reminder. Oh, my god. It was Brayden’s birthday! How could I have forgotten? Well, technically, I hadn’t, since I’d had the presence of mind at some point to add it to my calendar, thank God and Apple Computer.
I tapped out Meghan’s phone number. She picked up right away. “Harper! Wow! I heard you got the big storm!” Her voice was animated, and she was very excited with life at that moment.
“Boy, did we. I’m sitting here right now watching Brayden supervise his army to get it all cleaned up. Thank god the power is back on.”
“I’m not coming home just yet, you know,” she reminded me. “Uncle Brayden wants us to stay away until everything is fixed. But that’s okay, because Missy lives next door and her friends, Deb and Mousy—don’t you just love that name? Well, anyway, they’re all hanging out next door, and I’m invited tonight to watch old horror movies with them. I know it’s just an excuse to try on makeup and talk about boys, but what the heck, right?”
I could hear the joy in her voice. “I’m really excited for you, Meghan, but listen. Did you remember that today is Brayden’s birthday?”
There was a pause at the other end. “Oh, shoot! With the excitement of the storm and all, no, I forgot all about it. What am I going to do?”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I’ve got it covered. Just do me a favor and DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT text or call him. I want him to think we’ve all forgotten about it. Tell Mrs. Sims the same thing. You can pick up a gift on your way home whenever you come back, but for now, I’ve got this one. Okay?”
“More than okay, Harper. Somehow I think he’s going to like your gift better than anything I could bring home anyway.”
“Meghan!”
“What?” she feigned innocence. “I’m just saying…”
“Enough of that. Okay, now remember, mum is the word.”
“Got it. Have fun, Harper.”
I got up and headed to the guest cottage. I spied the young woman who had been hanging around my place and waggled my finger. It worked, she responded immediately. I was sort of getting into this finger-wagging thing.
“What’s your name?” I asked her.
“Joy. How can I help?”
“Well, Joy, follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she responded and followed me inside the cottage.
“Joy, this might seem like an odd question, but are you wearing other clothes under that jumpsuit?”
“Well, yes, my normal street clothes.”
“Here. I need your jumpsuit.”
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t get into trouble. I just need to use it for part of a costume and there’s no stores here as you can see.”
“Oh, there are more in the boat, ma’am. We carry extra in case we get spills or dirty, you see.”
I held out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. “Will you get me one?”
She grinned and took the bill from my fingertips. “No problem. I’ll be right back.” She stopped and pulled a plastic garbage bag from beneath my sink and left. A few minutes later, she was back and pulled the jumpsuit out of the bag, handing it to me. “Shall I hang this in your closet?”
Just like I’d thought – they were like flies.<
br />
Chapter 16
Brayden
Cleaning up took all day, and I was as tired as if I’d done the physical work myself. At least things were back to normal and Meghan and Mrs. Sims could return whenever they were ready.
I looked around for Harper, but couldn’t spot her. I was filthy and sweaty, so I headed off to my room to shower. I knew Harper hadn’t gotten much sleep either and figured she’d gone to take a nap at the cottage. I felt the urge to follow her there, but resisted. I stunk like a skunk, and I imagined she wouldn’t be terribly happy with being disturbed regardless.
My bedroom, just like all my resort rooms, had been restored to perfection. The bed was crisply made, its white sheets tucked and folded back exactly the way I liked them. I looked forward to having a short nap myself and dropped my clothes where I was standing before turning on the shower. The water felt great and I turned the temp up hot and let it pelt down on my shoulders. After the shower, I filled the whirlpool tub and let the jets massage my back and upper arms. I wanted to be really relaxed for my evening with Harper.
I toweled dry and walked naked into the bedroom. I stopped short. Evidently one of the crews had left a worker behind because she was dusting my furniture. Her back was to me so I had a chance to back up quickly into the bathroom and grab a towel to put around my waist. I re-entered the bedroom and she was still there, bent low and wiping the top of the cold air returns. She was wearing the blue outfit that identified the crew, including the cap that protected her hair. She turned slightly and I could see she was wearing earbuds, which I assumed were connected to a phone or other music player in her pocket.
“Hello?” I tried to get her attention. I didn’t want to touch her first because I knew it would startle her and make her jump. “Hello,” I tried again, but she was swinging her hips to the music and apparently didn’t hear me. I stood there, assuming she would eventually turn and see me. Instead, she went into dance moves with her hips thrust backward toward me. Her ass was wonderful. It filled out the uniform and left little to the imagination. I wondered, with some guilt, how long Harper would be asleep. I wasn’t the least bit interested in the woman, but any man who doesn’t respond to swinging hips has something out of whack.