by Harlem Dae
I went through the motions, glancing inside my passport as I did so. The woman in the picture—a woman who was no longer me in many respects—had been happy, fucking her way around the world without a care. I dreaded to think what I looked like now—my hair a damp mess, my face haggard, showing I was worried and altogether unsettled. All those times I’d been self-assured, arrogant, even. Where had that part of me gone? And, more importantly, would it ever come back?
Yes, it would. I straightened my shoulders, refusing to cave in like I had years ago, when things had gone so terribly wrong. I was a different person now, and no amount of Albinos or Nathans would alter me.
Sutton must have noticed the change because he gave me what I could only describe as a secret smile. He knew—perhaps he’d been in my situation himself at some point, or one very similar. He understood, and that meant more than I thought it would. A day ago, I wouldn’t have cared what he thought of me—except that he fancied me and wanted to fuck me senseless. Now…?
He linked arms with me, and we walked towards the back of the reception area, Sutton tugging my suitcase on wheels along behind him. Alberto stood at a door, and he pursed his lips as though sorry that I had to go.
“A postcard,” Alberto said. “To let me know you are okay.”
I nodded, absurdly emotional, and allowed Sutton to gently push my back so I went through the doorway and into a white-walled corridor. The lights above were harsh and stung my eyes—yes, it was only the lights making them water—then out through another door into a car park. Sutton glanced left then right. He nodded at Alberto then headed for a dirty-white Fiat with an orange rental decal on the side. Maybe he’d chosen it so that he didn’t stand out while driving. No one would take any notice of a vehicle that had seen better days, but a newer model? Yes, he’d gain attention in the seedier parts of town.
I joined him, getting into the passenger seat. He toured the outside of the vehicle, holding out some kind of gadget. Then, when he got in himself, he let out a sigh of relief as he started the engine.
Before he took off, he said, “The car isn’t bugged.”
I thanked our lucky stars that I wouldn’t have to keep my mouth shut on the journey. It would have been difficult, seeing as so many questions were waiting patiently on my tongue.
Chapter Eight
Sutton drove with careful precision, his attention unwavering as he gripped the steering wheel.
I stared out of the window—banana plantations, meagre villages, lush fields, expensive villas—a familiar coastal route to the airport.
With a sigh, I twisted to look at Sutton. The sun was a white orb sinking towards the horizon, its sharp rays highlighting his profile. His nose reminded me of one of those mathematical instruments I’d used at my six-figure-fee private school for checking triangles—perfectly straight down and then snapping inwards at an acute angle. After that his fuzz of facial hair spoiled the sharp lines of his chin, and his Adam’s apple pot-bellied outwards. He was a handsome man, once you got used to his surly ways and social awkwardness.
But where was he taking me? Were we staying in the Caribbean? The USA perhaps, or maybe farther, into snowy Canada or a trip over an ocean to Asia or Europe?
And what would we do when we got there?
‘How do you know who to trust?’
The Albino’s words belched back to me.
A tinny sound rattled in my ears, competing with the drone of the engine. My temples itched, as though I was dehydrated, yet I knew I wasn’t. Perhaps the smoke of earlier was still lingering, festering in my neurons and clogging up my capillaries.
Should I be here? Was Sutton really my guardian, my paladin, my knight in shining armour?
What if he were driving me to my death? Whizzing me to a fate that would include a bullet in my brain, a smiling slit around my neck or a twisted knife spilling my innards onto the floor?
I nipped my forearm, small, biting stings, trying to tame my heart rate and wild thoughts. He’d seemed to be on my side. Had been there when I’d needed him most, in the market and when the Albino had me cornered.
But would the Albino have really hurt me? Had he been about to set me on a journey to meet my maker, or had a confession about what he was really doing there, following me, been ready to flurry from his lips?
I had no idea.
Fuck.
I set my hands on my lap. I had no control over this. Handing myself over to Sutton had been the safest option, the only option. His commanding governing of the situation had swept me along on a tide of gratefulness.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
What if he meant me harm? Had he tricked me, fooled me with his placid demeanour and sexually repressed attitude?
“Why are you doing that?” he asked.
“What?”
“That.” He nodded at my lap. “I’ve seen you do it before.”
Without me even realising it, my childish habit of pill-rolling had snuck up on me, the perfect synchrony of both index fingers rotating over the pads of my thumbs making my red nail varnish flash in the harsh light. “Sorry.”
“Doesn’t bother me, just wondered why you’re doing it.”
I pressed my lips together and clenched my fists, not wanting to reveal that I was anxious, scared, fucked off.
He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised.
Frowning, I stared straight ahead. We’d rattled right past the junction to the airport.
“Where are we going?” I asked, resisting the urge to connect fingers to thumbs again. “We’re on an island, you know. If it’s so imperative that we leave then wouldn’t the airport be our best bet?”
Oh, God, was he going to murder me here, in St Lucia? Was he going to drive me into the hills, past the waterfalls then put a bullet in my brain and leave me to the mercy of the forest? I’d be devoured by ants, bitten into billions of tiny pieces and carried above their creepy little arthropod bodies into their den to feed swarms of writhing larvae.
I swallowed, nausea creeping up on me.
I’d never be found.
“The airport is too visible.” Sutton took a right turn. “We’re leaving by boat.”
“Boat?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you know, one of those big things that float on water and sometimes have sails.”
“No need to be a clever dick,” I muttered, slipping my hands beneath my thighs and sitting on them. “And I hope you can sail, because I can’t. Father always hired crew.”
“Nah, sailing isn’t my thing.”
“So we’ll just be at the mercy of the wind and the waves, will we? Hope for the best?”
“No, your father isn’t the only one who can hire a crew.”
“You’ve done that?”
“Believe it or not, protecting you comes with, amongst other things, an expense account.”
“I’m sure it does.”
Father never did scrimp on anything.
We arrived at a small village—single-storey homes, a neat white church, and a gaggle of school children playing in a yard, their excitable voices drifting into the car.
“This is Cotton Islet.” Sutton slowed the car. “Marion and Linus will be waiting for us.”
“Who?”
“Our crew aboard the Carpe Diem.”
“Carpe Diem, I like it.”
“I thought you would.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as though irritated by me.
“The enjoyment of the pleasure of the moment without concern for the future.” I rested my head back and parted my legs so that my skirt slipped up my thighs. “Maybe this boat ride won’t be so bad.” I paused. “What’s the skipper, Linus, like?”
Sutton didn’t answer. I wasn’t surprised.
I had visions of Linus being big and tall with broad shoulders and a smart white suit. Would he be black with dark, intelligent eyes and an impressive bulge pressing at his trousers, or would he be ex-navy, white, with a brisk manner and a challenge to tempt into my below-d
eck lair?
Oh yeah, a fuck, a hard, fast orgasm. That was what I fancied. It would soak up the adrenaline still swamping my system. A big solid dick to ride on right now would hit the spot.
Shame my so-called bodyguard wasn’t a bit more free and easy with his cock. He’d have a good time if only he’d lighten up. Learn a thing or two as well. I’d show him kinks I’d bet none of the other women he’d been with could. That was the thing when you’d lost count of the number of men you’d fucked. Pleasure, giving and receiving, became instinctual, varied. I was unconsciously competent in all aspects of sex.
Sutton parked the car, killed the engine, and stepped out.
I let him grab my cases from the boot then also alighted, swinging my handbag over my shoulder and tucking my hair behind my ears to prevent the wind smacking it against my cheeks.
Sutton was weighed down with my cases while we walked to the small harbour. I didn’t offer to help, and he was clearly too proud to ask for assistance.
There were half a dozen boats docked against a rickety pontoon, which shifted underfoot when I stepped along it.
Carpe Diem was the largest boat, at the end. It was about thirty-eight feet, I’d guess, and fairly new. Its masts stood tall and proud, and its white body gleamed. A dark navy bimini offered shade to whoever was at the helm.
There was a man, starboard side, Linus I presumed, hoisting a rope up the mast. He was neither black nor white. His skin was the colour of coffee and appeared fit to burst with the effort of keeping his damn fine muscles contained. They swelled and contracted as he put energy into his task. His biceps were bloated balls of strength, his shoulders lined with the sinewy contours of his tendons.
I licked my lips. Hot didn’t do him justice. The man looked like a sex machine and exactly what I needed in my life right now. Big and tough and with enough stamina to go all night, or at least until I couldn’t walk.
Perhaps we’d go at it so hard the boat would rock and keep Sutton awake. Good, that would let him know what he was missing out on. Maybe Linus and I would create such a splash in the bedroom that we’d create a tidal wave that would surge across the ocean and hit land as a tsunami.
“Hey, you must be Sutton.” A short, chubby woman appeared from beneath the bimini and stood, hands on hips, staring at us with an assessing glint in her eyes.
She wore white loafers with black socks, and shorts covered in vertical navy stripes that bulged outwards, owing to her wide hips, and formed brackets around her pussy, which, unfortunately, was outlined by the seam of the shorts showcasing her pouting labia even through clothing. Her large breasts hung low with not nearly enough support, and her skin was weathered and tanned.
“Marion.” Sutton released one of my cases, and it clunked to the wooden slats we were standing on.
“Captain Marion, yes.” She nodded briskly.
Captain?
She was the captain?
“You can’t bring those cases onboard,” Marion said. “We have nowhere to stow them. Space is rather limited.”
“But…” I swivelled to my faithful Louis Vuitton cases that had travelled the world with me.
“It’s okay,” Sutton said. “Take the minimum of what you need out and I’ll put the cases in the car. I’ll organise for them to be sent back to England.”
“But what about when we get to…wherever the fuck we’re going? How will I manage?”
“We’ll buy more.” He stooped and clicked my case open, lifted the lid.
“Hey, do you mind?” I slapped his hand away. “That’s private.”
The last thing I wanted was him going through my things. There was laundry in there, not to mention a few toys—although on second thought, that might stop him from being so stiff upper lipped and instead be a bit more stiff-cocked.
“It’s okay,” Marion said. “Linus will put the cases in your room. Sort them there, and then they can be taken off ship before we disembark.”
“And when will that be?” Sutton stood and looked at his watch.
“Sooner rather than later.” Marion turned and raised her hand. She clicked her fingers loudly.
Linus stopped what he was doing and set his attention on her.
“These cases, into stateroom one,” she called up to him. “Now.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he hopped down from the upper deck and onto the pontoon with surprising grace for such a hulk of a man.
He gripped the handles of both cases and moved back on deck, leaving behind the aroma of a man who’d been hard at work in the open air.
I breathed deep, flaring my nostrils, wishing the breeze wouldn’t snatch away his scent so quickly.
“For fuck’s sake,” Sutton muttered.
“What?”
He gave me a withering look then walked up the gangplank and onto the boat.
I stared at his arse now encased in worn jeans. The pocket on the left was ripped at the seam, as though it might come off completely with one sharp tug.
My throat tightened as I remembered back to a different time and place. Another man in jeans that had lost a pocket—a man who I should never have trusted my love with. He’d tempted me, seduced me with his smiles and his testosterone-infused allure, then, once he’d had his fun, had done the damage, he’d disappeared the way a thief would on a dark stormy night.
I shook my head and watched Sutton spread out a map and bend over it. Marion leaned in next to him.
What the hell gave Sutton the right to judge me the way he did? He might be being paid by my father but he wasn’t my father. I’d do whatever the hell I wanted, and if I wanted to smell, lick, and fuck Linus, I damned well would.
And enjoy every minute of it.
I was used to boats, though usually a little larger than this one as Father had often chartered a fifty-footer for a few weeks during the British winters to get us out of the London drudgery, so I stepped onboard.
Linus had headed to the one doorway that led below deck, so I followed suit.
The galley was surprisingly spacious and perfectly ordered, which made me wonder why my cases couldn’t sit there for our voyage. It was clear Marion ran a tight ship with strict rules. I gathered stateroom one would be at the far end of the boat so I slipped past the small bathroom, a seating area, and a desk set up for radio communication and navigation.
Linus appeared before me.
“Oh, hi.” I smiled up at him. “Linus.”
His lips twitched, and his piercing gaze settled on mine.
A small thrill went through me. He was easily twice as broad as me. His pecs would be a handful if I pressed my palms over them, and, standing this close, the saline scent of the ocean oozed from him.
“Thank you for taking my cases down,” I said with my flirtiest smile. “I really appreciate it.”
He nodded once, his gaze unwavering.
“I’m Anna, by the way.”
Nothing.
“Have you, er…worked on Carpe Diem for long?” I asked, reaching for a strand of my hair and coiling it around my finger.
He didn’t reply, just stared at me.
“I mean, weeks, months, years?”
Still nothing.
What is it with this man? Doesn’t he understand English?
“Marion seems nice?” I said, dropping the strand of hair.
His attention left my eyes, and he looked at the curl that had landed over the rise of my left breast.
Oh, so he was interested.
I quickly checked for a wedding ring.
Nothing.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I was starting to feel a little crazy in this one-sided conversation.
He looked back up at my face and smiled.
His smile changed his whole face. Instead of being serious and sexy, he became soft, childish almost. His lips were wide, his teeth straight and his eyes narrowed, small creases shooting from the sides.
“He won’t answer you.”
I turned.
M
arion was stepping down into the galley.
“What?” I asked, frowning.
“My son is a mute. Hasn’t spoken since the day he was born.”
Chapter Nine
“Oh.” I turned back to Linus.
A mute?
He shrugged as though apologising for his silence.
“But he understands everything, so don’t be fooled.” Marion reached for two cans of cola. “Drinks in here if you’re thirsty, help yourself.”
I ignored her.
Her footsteps tapped on the wooden steps as she went back on deck.
I’d been curious about Linus before, but now I was utterly fascinated. A big, hunky man who didn’t speak. I’d never had one of them to play with.
He swept his tongue over his bottom lip and again glanced down at my breasts.
I knew why he was looking. My nipples were hard tight points, pressing up against my thin cotton top. Not only was the galley cool, I was turned on.
“Have you ever had sex?” I asked quietly.
His smiled dropped, and he nodded.
“Do you like it?”
His nod became more enthusiastic.
“Would you like to have sex with me?”
He reached out with both hands and cupped my breasts.
I smiled. Good. I had him. A shag, a glorious shag with a man without the complication of conversation would pass the time once we pulled anchor and Sutton took me off into the sunset.
I slid my hand down Linus’ torso, enjoying the sweet heat of his flesh and the contours of his honed abdomen. When I reached his waistband I didn’t stop. I kept on going and applied firm pressure to the wedge of hardness straining beneath his clothing.
“Stay hard,” I said. “And later…we’ll have some fun.” I pushed onto my tiptoes and swept a butterfly-light kiss over his lips.
He squeezed my breasts, but only for a second, because then I stepped away and into my stateroom.
I shut the door.
He’d have to wait. Day nineteen was turning out to be more complicated than I’d expected, and right now I had to empty my cases and then, more importantly, I wanted to find out where Sutton was taking me. There was still time to jump off the Carpe Diem and figure it out on my own if I didn’t like his plans.