His entire body reacted at touching her, smelling her hair as she leaned back farther still, grinding her back into him, fully aware of the overpowering presence between his legs. His thighs tingled, his stomach was tight, and his breath quickened until he couldn’t take it anymore. He released his hold on her and lay on his back. Blythe soon followed, rolling over to face him.
She placed her cheek on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. He put his head back against the grass, closing his eyes. He thought it was over, that she’d try to sleep. That is, until he felt her breath on his skin. Mak’s body reacted as any man’s would, blood rushing from his head to his groin, his erection straining now. He held as still as he could, boiling internal turmoil. He fought both the urge to push her away warningly and the urge to roll her onto her back and indulge his fantasies. Instead, he remained statue-still.
Was he dreaming or were her lips actually caressing his earlobe? Yes, Blythe’s kisses became more forceful, obvious, until their lips met once more. There was nothing Mak wouldn’t do for her now. Nothing. His hands clasped her cheeks as he brought her mouth to his with reckless abandon. Oh how he’d waited to kiss her again. His tongue claimed ownership and the experience was totally hot. He physically felt her panic dissipate as her body relaxed in their union. Embracing her, he suddenly felt the urgent need to hold on tight and never let go. As if his lips and hands could protect her from anything.
Her hand traced down his strong stomach, inching lower and lower until it met it’s mark. Mak flinched slightly at her touch before relaxing into the sensation. She felt him through his cargo pants, stroking him through the fabric until he begged for more. A guttural growl escaped his throat, his yearnings peaking. He broke the kiss and sat up a little, his stomach muscles in top form. Swiveling sideways, he brought his hands around her waist and pulled her onto him in a straddle.
The motion seemed to thrill her as her breath quickened and she smiled in anticipation. Their eyes locked with a relenting need. Leaning up more, he peeled off his tee shirt and tossed it aside. Blythe’s hooded eyes widened in the moonlight at the sight before her. Her hands, as if by instinct, reached out to feel his muscles. She dragged her fingertips lightly down his pecs as if to bring him to the brink. He returned the favor, reaching up and palming her breasts with care. He squeezed gently as she arched, the firelight casting her silhouette into an otherworldly spectacle – like a Pele goddess. Mak realized then that the city girl he’d arrived with was no longer present. Their harrowing experience on Kahoolawe had transformed her into the vivacious, sexy siren he’d caught a glimpse of at the cane burn. Fear had burned her inhibitions away.
Mak kneaded her firm flesh, her nipples beading beneath her cotton blouse. She squared her hips above his, gravity working it’s magic as she pressed down into him, the hot burning ache mutual. As she bent forward, their lips joined in a passionate lock and tongues soon joined the exploration of desire. His muscles tightened, flexing on instinct. As tight as a line, his nerves were about to snap if he couldn’t have her. Every move of her hand across his bare flesh made Mak want to show her how much he cared. Very deeply, very inch deep. She looked like every guy’s fantasy with her knee-length skirt riding up around her hips – the most impractical thing to have worn to the island, aside from those damn shoes that were now long gone.
“This probably shouldn’t be happening, but I’ll take my chances,” Mak said.
“We may die anyways, right?” Blythe whispered in his ear, bringing his earlobe into her mouth. She sucked it slowly before kissing her way over to his jaw. She sat back on his groin and brought her hands up to slowly unbutton her shirt. Mak devoured every deliberate move she made. She was driving him mad. She peeled back the blouse and fluidly brought her camisole over her head, revealing a thin gauzy bra that left nothing to the imagination. Mak could see her exquisite dusky nipples underneath, taut and at attention for his benefit alone.
He placed a hand on her thigh, the other he brought up to her ribcage, skimming his fingers along her silky skin until cupping her breast again. He teased her nipple with a feather-light stroke from his thumb. It felt like supple heat. “You’re my island goddess,” he smiled as he stared her down. Her hair was wild around her face and a million stars twinkled in the black expanse above. “A goddess with fiery hair.” Mak pushed back the auburn mass as Blythe bent to kiss him deeply, tenderly. With a finger, he pulled back her bra to expose a beaded nipple. Blythe arched and offered it to his mouth, which he accepted gladly, his tongue teasing her to the core. He was painfully hard and wanting as she arched more. She moaned a little, enjoying his tongue’s attention as he worked his way to her other breast, pulling the fabric down and claiming it with his lips.
Curse be damned, this was heaven on earth.
Sitting back, Blythe ran her hands over his smooth chest, hot to the touch. “I want you, Mak, but I…”
Fully entranced in the moment, her words sang in his ears. He half sat up, kissing her shoulder and up her neck as his finger hooked the bra strap and pulled it down her arm. He brought the other hand down to rest on the apex of her sex, his fingers strumming back and forth as his breathing increased to match hers. “Wait Mak, there’s something I have to tell you,” she said, barely audible in her desperate desire. “I haven’t been totally hon…”
But her confession would have to wait. The sound of a small explosion ripped through the silence. Audible shouts and a scream of agony carried on the wind, reaching them.
The chaos instantly perked their attention, killing the mood as they both froze in the act. Blythe scrambled off him, crouching under the overhang. She hastily clamored for her blouse, shoving it on in a frantic rush.
The heightened frenzy of the interlude was over, but the sensual need still pulsed between them like a beating drum. Tension and fear forced them into action. Mak rolled over and grabbed the gun fluidly like he’d done it a thousand times before. The undercurrent of sexual desire was replaced by a yearning to survive.
Mak brought the gun up as the voices escalated. He clamored for the binoculars. Leaning over one of the boulders, he peered down toward the thug’s encampment. The fire area was vacant. He swung the binoculars left toward the sound of the shouts. Although seeing anything was practically impossible in the darkness, he was able to make out three silhouettes standing and one writhing on the ground, screaming in agony.
Blythe’s mouth gaped as she saddled up to Mak and took the binoculars, looking for herself. “Was that a landmine then?”
“Yes. Not his lucky day,” Mak said without remorse.
Blythe clutched her stomach. He saw the fear blazing in her eyes. The reality of the landmine dangers was right there, flailing around on death’s door at the foot of Lua Makika. The next one could be for them if they weren’t careful.
“Well, that’s bound to get some attention from the big island, right?” Blythe said.
Mak watched her fear turn to hope. “Don’t be so sure. This side of the island can’t be seen from Maui, and at this time of night, most people are inside sleeping. Not many people on the beach in the dark to witness it.”
“That’s not what I want to hear.”
“Just being…”
“Realistic, I know. For once you could lie to me, that would be just fine.”
“Sorry, not my style,” Mak winked.
Blythe crept back toward the rock overhang and lay on her side, curling her legs up protectively. “This could possibly be the longest, most emotional day of my life…and possibly the last.”
Mak followed suite, wrapping her tightly in his arms. They were spooning again, but the moment of urgent heat had dulled into a muted need for comfort. “This isn’t the end, Blythe. I’ve got plans for us. We’ll get off this damn island, I promise.” He reached out and touched a sleek, silky strand of her hair. “We’re from two different worlds but this feels so right. Are you feeling it too?”
Blythe nodded, but her body language changed slightly. Mak
couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was as if she’d mentally pulled away. He wished he could see what thoughts were going through her head. He couldn’t see her eyes because of the way her head tilted toward the darkness, shadowing half of her face.
“That means a lot,” she finally said. Mak noticed her voice trail off a bit, growing distant. Wearing his heart on his sleeve was something rare and judging by her reaction to it, maybe it was too much too soon. He realized he didn’t care, it needed to be said and there was no time like the present.
“You and I together would be incredible. I’ve never experienced this kind of thing before, this need to be with someone, to protect them. It’s giving me tremendous purpose, Blythe. Blythe?”
He realized then that she’d fallen sleeping.
Turning onto his back, he gazed up into the expansive night sky and growing frustrated with her for being so damn irresistible, frustrated with himself for dragging her into this mess. Their ordeal would end soon, one way or another. Whether alive or dead, it would end some way. If they lived, could things ever be the same between them? Would she be willing to embrace a life that included a cursed boyfriend and embrace the stares and whispers from other disapproving women in Maui? Not likely. After they made it back to the island, Blythe would probably pack it in and move back to Chicago – if they ever did make it off the island.
Pulling on his tee shirt, he left her to sleep and crossed the grassy clearing, sitting alone by the fire. With the binoculars in one hand and the gun in the other, he would remain on guard, keeping a vigilant eye on the thugs below who were now camped out themselves, lying here and there with no rhyme or reason. They’d left the fourth man to wail and writhe around, not even having the decency to take him out of his misery. Mak was grateful they’d given up the search for them…for now.
Chapter Eighteen
The rising sun streamed through the cracks between the boulders and hit Blythe square in the face like a personal wake-up call. She was disoriented at first, but after looking around it all came rushing back. She put her hands over her face, her palms pressing down on her puffy, tired eyes. Thoughts drifted to Lou, which in turn reminded her of their impending doom. She willed her tears to retreat to no avail; they flowed out of her like an endless silent waterfall.
Pale yellow light on the horizon soon gave way to lavender and orange as the sun rose in the East above the waterline. Daybreak was arriving and with it, full visibility. There would be no hiding now. Feeling tired and stale, Blythe couldn’t believe they’d survived the night. Despite almost plummeting to her death and the close call with the thug in the bunkhouse, she was still intact – unlike the guy who’d been blown apart and left for dead. That was one way to defuse the palpable heat her and Mak had shared. Looking up, she watched his face in the rising sun, the shadow of stubble dotting his jaw. He stirred and then opened his brown eyes, rubbing one and squinting at the offensive light.
“You okay?” he asked. It was sweet that she was the first thing he worried about.
“I’m fine. You finally slept. That’s good.”
Mak checked his watch. “Last time I looked at my watch it was 4am, so a couple of hours. Better than nothing.” He sat up and brought his arms above his head, stretching out the stiffness the uneven ground had caused during the night.
Her stomach rumbled with the prospect of breakfast. A leathery fruit bar would have to do. As if sensing her need, Mak tossed her one.
“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” He rolled over and propped himself up on an elbow, peering over the top of a strategically placed boulder. “The three remaining guys are waiting at the dock with guns in their hands. Something’s going to happen soon.”
As if on cue, the distant drone of a motor hummed louder by the minute. Blythe finished the fruit bar and crawled up beside him so their shoulders touched. She chanced a quick look.
“A boat, there, in the distance.” She pointed, unable to mask her excitement. “Is it the Coast Guard?”
Mak brought his arm around her and pulled her lower. “Easy. I don’t think so. Looks like a very expensive powerboat to me, and it’s white. Maui Coast Guard is yellow.”
“Oh,” Blythe hunkered down lower, along with her hopes. So not only was the Coast Guard not coming, more men with guns would be arriving any minute.
<><><>
The whir of the high-speed powerboat grew louder as it rounded the island. The driver cut the motor a short distance away and the boat coasted toward the dock on forward momentum.
“You’re late, Wood,” Blunt barked as the driver steered the boat into the makeshift slip. “We’ve been waiting the entire goddamn night for you. What the hell happened?”
Wood, a rough looking middle-aged man, stayed tight-lipped while a muscular boat passenger cocked his sub-machinegun to show his displeasure at the comment.
“I said, what happened?” Blunt held his gun up defensively.
“Good things are worth waiting for, my friend,” Wood smirked.
“Yeah? Well, time is money so lets go,” Blunt snapped. Sanders and Pax stood behind him trying to look intimidating. The semi-automatics they held helped round out the overall impression.
“I see you’re already using our product, but I can assure you there’s no need for the heightened security. We had a deal and I will honor it,” Wood said calmly. He hopped onto the dock, leaving the four thugs that accompanied him to deal with tying the boat and unloading the shipment of guns that had arrived as ordered from Tokyo. The shipment had spent a week on a barge, skirting Tai Pei, until the powerboat met it for the swap off the Hawaiian coast.
“I understand the delivery is one box shy of my order. And why is that?”
“There was a miscommunication. You will be compensated for the loss. No worries. I thought you had three men with you?” Wood asked.
“We had a little problem with a landmine last night. My man, Roland, didn’t make it.”
“Well, no one said this island was without risk.”
“Whatever. Lets get this done,” Blunt spit and walked toward the awaiting crates.
<><><>
Blythe craned to get a better look at the scene below. It was next to impossible without the binoculars.
“What do you see?” she asked.
Hearing her desperation, Mak willingly commentated. “Eight men, but they aren’t a tight unit. The men from last night are definitely separate from the other five, like they’re meeting for the first time.”
“Do they all have guns?”
Mak nodded, staying quiet.
Blythe lay beside him on her belly, coursing with the need to see for herself. The reporter in her wanted every morsel, every detailed snippet of info she could gather on these men. The more facts she had, the easier it would be to bring them down later after they’d been rescued. Blythe still held hope that they might be. Surely someone would notice they were missing.
“What are those crates for?”
“Something illegal.”
As if to answer their question, the tall leader came forward with a crowbar and jammed it into the side of the closest wooden crate. He pried back one of the planks. Reaching in, he fished around, pulling out handfuls of shredded filling before finding his prize. He guided the long, black fully automatic machine gun through the opening gingerly, as if it were made of fragile glass. Even at this distance, Blythe could see the man’s mouth twist in pleasure and awe.
“Gun smuggling. Where would the crates have come from?” Blythe’s reporting instincts took over.
“My guess is Tokyo or Malaysia. Maui’s probably a drop off point before the guns are shipped onward to the mainland.”
“It makes sense. This island seems like the perfect location.”
“You’re right, it is. And since they’re willing to take their chances smuggling, they’re also willing to take their chances with the landmines and underwater bombs around the back of the island too. They know the Coast Guard stays clear of tha
t area, so no chance of being intercepted. Those are AK47’s. These guys aren’t fooling around.”
“Are those the worst kind of gun?” Blythe couldn’t mask her naivety. She’d covered stories on gunshot victims and violent hold ups before, but those usually involved small handguns or knives.
“It’s a powerful weapon. Terrorists certainly seem to prefer them. My brother Noki’s a cop and he’s always talking about guns and the kinds of crazy ammunition his guys are encountering these days. AK47’s are cheap, plentiful, and lethal.”
“These smugglers have done this before, haven’t they?”
Mak nodded. “Absolutely. They’re far too relaxed to be first time smugglers. Probably convicts with lengthy records already.”
“I wonder how long this has been going on. And to think Kahoolawe’s been sitting out here the whole time, totally accessible for just such a trade.”
“These guys are fearless with nothing to loose. A crazy combo.”
“What are the gun laws like here?” Blythe asked, never having been involved in that sort of thing unless she was reporting a story on Chicago gangs.
“Well, one thing’s for damn sure, machine guns like the one he’s holding are not permitted in Hawaii except by law enforcement or the military. Hawaiian laws are very strict when it comes to firearms.”
“Do you think the overly strict gun laws have increased smuggling then? This seems like a very active underground firearms market to me. They must’ve been doing this for a while here.”
Mak turned to look her square in the eyes. “Listen, there’s illegal firearm trafficking in every state, it’s a fact. Lets get one thing clear, you’re not a journalist right now. You’re a potential murder victim. Let’s keep our head in the game. I know you want to blow the lid off this with a glossy story on the front page of tomorrow’s newspaper, but lets survive first, okay?”
Blythe bit her lip. “Sorry, you’re right.”
“Besides, my brother Noki says most violent crime’s committed in Hawaii are done with legally registered firearms that somehow exchanged hands illegally.”
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