by J. KRAMER
“Here. You’d better look at this.” Said Harry and pulled the crumpled poster from his pocket.
Gavin took the poster and stared at it. For a moment he was tempted to throw it into the water but curiosity got the better of him. He smoothed it out and looked at the face of a young girl. It was Becky, but a much younger Becky. Looking at the date on the poster, he frowned. So she’d been gone for months but she’d changed remarkably during that time. Even if people had seen the poster, they’d hardly recognize the girl now. She’d been missing for six months and her parents were offering a large reward. He wondered for a moment how Becky came to be on the island. Had she run away from home?
The anchor was lifted and the motors soon started to purr. Slowly the boat coasted out of the small harbor. Gavin smiled as he went down to the lounge to examine the contents of the bag. He’d not only captured a beautiful woman, but one who came from a very good family. He knew of John Ferguson the oil magnate who years ago had left America and moved to Australia with his family.
After removing all the fancy wrapping paper he took the velvet boxes to his cabin and put them in a drawer of the dressing table. Harry was silently unpacking clothes and removing the price tags. Judging by the pile on the bed, it would take him at least another hour to get everything arranged and put away. Gavin fingered the small velvet box and opened it. It contained a set, the engagement ring was plain, the diamond huge. The wedding ring matched it and was studded with small diamonds and there was also an eternity ring. He wondered if Harry had chosen the set or if it was the jeweler’s choice. “Harry, change my bed. I believe I’ve got a set of pink satin sheets in the cupboard and pretty up this room a bit. Make it look less like a bachelor’s playpen. I’m going to see if Becky is still sleeping. And don’t forget to get rid of all the boxes and wrapping paper. I left some in the lounge too. Make sure you throw it out. I don’t want her to find any evidence that this stuff was just bought.”
Pocketing the rings he threw the small box out of the porthole. Humming softly he left his cabin and entered Becky’s. To his satisfaction she was still asleep. He lifted her small hand off the covers and placed the rings on her finger. “There, maybe that will make it more believable,” he said softly.
He sat beside her bed for a while. This time he didn’t dare pull off the covers. She could wake up and would find it strange to have her husband fondling her in her sleep. Impatiently he waited.
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. What would happen when they arrived home and she asked for wedding pictures and found no clothing in his bedroom belonging to her?
Quickly, he ran back to his cabin and grabbed his cellular phone. He dialed the number of the department store he always dealt with and ordered a complete wardrobe, make-up, perfumes and jewelry for her. Then he called an exclusive store and ordered special gowns for her. The owner of the store knew him well and would know what kind of dresses to have made. He’d ordered them before on occasion but always destroyed them after a relationship was over. Then he phoned an interior decorator and ordered his bedroom redecorated.
The only problem left was wedding pictures, but he could tell her they had eloped and were planning a big celebration later this year. Satisfied that he had everything under control he called the house and told his butler, Jack, to expect the deliveries and decorator. He also told Jack to fire the staff and hire new people. He could trust Jack. Jack had been with him for years but he couldn’t take the chance that one of the household staff would slip up.
“Are you almost done, Harry? It won’t be long now before she’ll wake up.”
“Yes. I need to put away the small stuff and that’s it.”
“Hurry up about it. Did you get perfume and all that stuff? I need soap and bath oils so she can have a bath. Why don’t you get the tub ready for her?”
“Yes, master. Anything you say,” Harry said sarcastically and yanked open a drawer so hard that it flew to the floor.
Gavin noticed but ignored Harry. He left Harry to follow his orders and returned to Becky’s cabin to sit by her bed. It wasn’t long before she stirred.
Becky stretched. Her sleep had been dreamless. She opened her eyes to see the man who claimed to be her husband sitting beside the bed. For some reason she felt strange, as if she didn’t belong here.
Gavin bent forward and kissed her on the lips. His cock stirred and pushed against his shorts, aching for release. “You’ve slept a long time, honey. We’re back out to sea.”
“Where are we going?” asked Becky.
“Home.”
“Where is home?”
“California.”
“I don’t remember anything. I feel really weird, as I’ve just been born or something.”
“I’m sure you’ll remember in time. How about that bath now? I’ve asked Harry to fill the tub for you.”
“That sounds good.” Becky said as she sat up. She pulled the sheet around her body, for some reason ashamed of her nakedness. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she felt a moment of dizziness.
Gavin saw her waver and quickly went to her aid. “Here, let me help you. Better yet, I’ll carry you,” he said while scooping her up into his arms.
The sheet fell to the floor and Becky felt her face grow hot under his intense gaze.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t wait to get you back into my bed.”
The ardor evident in his voice and eyes excited Becky. She couldn’t remember anything about him, their marriage or making love, but he wasn’t unpleasant to look at and if he was her husband, he had rights. Did she love him? she wondered. If she did, she felt nothing now. Not the kind of love one read about. Now how did she know that? Why could she remember reading books, but she couldn’t even remember making love to her own husband?
Harry had just thrown the last of the boxes and bags out of the porthole and watched them drift away when Gavin walked into the cabin carrying the girl.
“You can leave now, Harry,” ordered Gavin.
Without a word, his eyes on the floor, Harry left the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
“I don’t like him,” said Becky. “He’s surly and looks at me as if he hates my guts.”
“Don’t mind Harry. You and he never got along very well,” he lied. The door to his private bathroom stood open, the tub filled with bubbling hot, perfumed water. He lowered her gently into it then peeled off his shorts, socks and running shoes and joined her. “You’re still weak,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
Becky languished in the hot water. The jets massaged her back, one of them spurting between her legs and massaging her private parts. It sent stimulating sensations through her cleft and into her vagina. She studied the man who sat opposite her, his gray eyes obviously wild with desire. He wasn’t tall, neither was he muscular. She’d almost call him fragile for a man. His black hair was immaculate, as was his whole appearance. When he stood and bent over her, she saw his massive cock. It was hard to imagine that such a slight man would have such a huge tool. It was long and rising above his bellybutton as it stiffened even more. Not only was it long, it was also very thick and surrounded by black bushy pubic hair. His chest was also covered in black hair, as were the tops of his thighs. His balls were dark and the sac firm. His cock pulsated, seeming to have a life of its own as it moved back and forth. Never had she seen a man with such a huge penis. Have I seen naked men before? Now how could I compare him with anyone if I don’t remember? She thought, confusion setting in, but only for a moment.
Gavin’s hands were on her body, lathering her with perfumed soap, his slim fingers softly massaging her chest, her breasts. She moved up higher so her breasts were visible. They hardened. Her nipples were large, brown and the aureole puckering and a lighter brown. She noticed her body was very tanned as if she spent a lot of time lying naked in the sun.
“Do I tan in the nude?” she asked Gavin.
“Yes, honey. I love tanned women. It turns me on.�
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“I see. That’s why I’m so brown then.”
“You’re gorgeous and you’ve got the most beautiful tan for a blond woman,” he said as he massaged her breasts harder. He could hardly bear to leave them alone to wash her hair when she asked him to. After putting shampoo on her hair he washed it as fast as her wound allowed, being careful not to rub too hard. She slid into the water to rinse it and came up sputtering. “My head is sore on the back. Is that where I hit it?”
“Yes. The swelling is going down though. Stand up so I can lather the rest of your body. Lean on me so you don’t fall if you become dizzy.”
She stood. His hands were all over her body sending strange sensations to her stomach. The flesh between her legs started to pulse almost as if answering the rhythm of his cock. When Gavin spread her legs and lathered between them, she breathed in sharply. He washed her cleft. Slowly, sensually, his fingers parted the folds and washed each part. Then she felt his fingers inside her and she squirmed in ecstasy. She didn’t have a clue if she loved this man, but she knew she wanted him to make love to her, to satisfy the hunger that grabbed her between her legs.
“Later, honey. Later when we’re in bed,” he said in a hoarse voice. “For now, let’s just play a little.” He pulled her down into the bubbling water and turned her over on her belly. “Hold the hand rail,” he told her.
She grabbed the rail and floated. She felt him spreading her legs and his cock rubbing between them. His grunts were loud as he grabbed her legs to push them tightly against his cock. It wasn’t what she wanted. Maybe it satisfied him, but it didn’t do anything for her except heighten her need. “Gavin, stick your cock in me,” she shouted. “Fuck me!”
“Not now! Later!”
“Do something then. Anything!”
He pulled back and stuck his fingers inside her. Two fingers, three, then four and he roughly moved them up and down rotating them inside her vagina. He heard her gasp again and again and beg for more. When his semen shot out of him, he collapsed on top of her, pushing her body to the bottom of the tub.
Finally he rolled off her and she turned around and gasped for air when she surfaced. She sat on one of the seats, her clit sore and chafed from his fingers. Becky looked at the man who was her husband. He languished in the water gazing at her now with a lazy expression. Obviously he was satisfied for the moment, but she wasn’t. She noticed the rings on her finger and frowned. Were they there before when she’d first woken up? She couldn’t remember. The diamond sparkled and seemed to wink at her. Jets of water massaged her back. She squirmed so that one of the jets massaged the tender flesh between her legs. Slowly, the smarting lessened but her desire to be filled by his huge cock only increased.
“Time for champagne,” said Gavin and pushed a button on the wall.
Within seconds, Harry appeared in the open doorway. “Yes?” He asked keeping his eyes tactfully on the floor.
“Bring me a bottle of champagne, Harry, and two glasses. Actually, make it three. Why don’t you join us?”
“Jesus, Gavin. You’ve got to be kidding,” growled Harry.
“Don’t be such a dull prick, Harry.”
Becky felt shocked at the invitation. Why would Gavin invite another man to join them? Embarrassment flooded her. She felt a dull ache begin just above her eyes. “Gavin, I don’t think I should drink. My headache is coming back.” She was glad that Harry had declined to join them. If she had on a bikini or bathing suit she wouldn’t have cared, but for Harry to join them while they were naked, and she didn’t even know the man, seemed indecent.
“Harry, bring some aspirin for Becky, too.” Gavin ordered. He dove into the water and surfaced next to her. “I’m sorry, my love. I worked you too hard. You’re still not well. I should have contained myself.”
I don’t feel well, but yet I want you, she thought. Is this love? What do I know about this man? What do I know about myself? I’m a stranger to myself and I’m married to a stranger. It has to be the weirdest relationship in the world. “I’d like to rest for a while, Gavin.”
“After you take your aspirin and we drink to your speedy recovery.” He fondled her breast for a moment then dropped his hand below the bubbles to gently rub her cleft. “Are you sore?”
“A little.”
“When you go to bed, I’ll massage it for you,” he promised softly. “By the way, you’ve got to stop shaving. You’re rather bristly down there. It doesn’t feel pleasant. I’ll take you to a beauty salon and we’ll have the hair removed by electrolysis.”
“I don’t even know that I used to shave down there. I don’t know anything about myself.” Becky gingerly felt between her legs and felt the stubby growth of pubic hair. “You’re right. It is like sandpaper.”
“Once it’s permanently removed you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“But isn’t it supposed to be there?”
“I suppose, but most women shave it off for bikini purposes or sexual activity. It gets in the way and doesn’t look sexy poking out of a skimpy bikini.”
Harry returned with the champagne, glasses and aspirin. He set the tray within reach of Gavin and promptly left the bathroom. Gavin filled the two glasses and handed one to Becky. “Cheers, my love. To our continued happiness and may your memory soon return,” he said softly hoping inwardly that she’d never remember her past.
“My memory…” Becky said. “Gavin, do I have parents? Family? Tell me about my past? How we met?”
“Later. Take your aspirin now, honey.”
Obediently she swallowed the two aspirin and sipped the champagne. She didn’t care for it and wondered if she’d ever liked it. “I don’t want it, Gavin,” she said and handed him the glass. For a second she thought she saw his eyes harden but then his eyelids closed for a moment and when he opened his eyes again, they were filled with longing.
“I’d like to go lie down for a while. I really don’t feel well.”
“Of course. I’m rushing you too much. Let me help you.” He took her by the arm and led her out of the tub. After draping a large towel around her he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the large king size bed. Gently he lowered her onto the bed and toweled her dry as if she were an infant.
Becky felt herself grow drowsy under his gentle administrations, but even in her drowsy state, when he parted her cleft and patted it dry, wild feelings attacked her. His cock was stiff and bobbed with each movement. It fascinated her.
After he was finished, he pulled up the satin sheet leaving her breasts exposed. “I guess I’ll go up top for a while and let you rest,” he said in a lazy drawl.
Through half-open eyelids she watched him pull on a pair of shorts. Just before he left the cabin he kissed her on the tip of her nose, tweaked her nipples and she was alone. She gazed at the closed door and the wall next to it, her eyelids heavy.
Suddenly she noticed the three paintings standing upright against the wall. She sat up with a start, causing her head to throb from the sudden movement. “That’s me,” she said softly while crawling to the foot-end of the bed. “I wonder who painted them?” She got out of bed and bent to examine the paintings in more detail. The thought that someone could have painted her in such revealing poses set her blood on fire. She reached out and traced the outline of her body and her cleft painted in such exquisite detail and drew her finger back startled when it stuck to the paint. “These are fresh. They’re still a bit sticky,” she said softly and looked at the artist’s signature. “Lucien Moore. I wonder who he is? Do I know him?”
She crawled back to the top of the bed and cradled a pillow in her arms. “Lucien—Lucien…” she whispered, trying to remember. The name rolled easily off her tongue. It had a sensual feel to it as she said it. Thrills ran down her spine causing the skin on her body to pucker in excitement. “Lucien…” the name was still on her lips as her eyes closed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After renting a car, Lucien registered at a motel. The coast guar
d had informed the police about Becky’s disappearance and contacted her parents. He was to meet them, and the police, at the Fergusons’ home in an hour.
He looked at the poster the captain had given him. The girl in the photograph was his Becky, the little sea orphan the sea had washed up on the beach. The girl who had been kidnapped didn’t look anything like the girl in the picture now. The bastards had taken his latest paintings but Lucien knew he could paint her from memory as every detail of her face, her body, was etched in his mind.
Just thinking about her caused his penis to throb, to rise with the passion he felt for her. It was almost as if his fear for her was another stimulant. But it wasn’t just the passion. He felt genuine love for Becky. She’d slowly crept into his heart, his soul and had become part of him.
Clasping the poster to his chest as if engraving her lips, her eyes, into his heart, he undid the zipper of his shorts and masturbated slowly. “My love, my sweet sea orphan, where are you? But you’re not really an orphan—you have parents and a brother.” Stroking his cock slowly he tried to imagine her fingers on it but he couldn’t find release. His concern for her safety overpowered the passion and his cock became flaccid.
With a sigh he jumped off the bed, took off his shorts and headed for the shower. After he was done, he was happy to find a disposable razor and a sample of shaving cream on the bathroom counter. In his haste he’d not packed his razor, or anything else.
Now clean-shaven, he inspected his appearance in the mirror. He’d have to do something with his mane of hair. But not now. There was no time. He quickly tied it back into a ponytail.
He pulled out the slacks he kept in the bag for use on the mainland only. They were a little creased, but there was no time to buy new ones or have them cleaned, the same with the short-sleeved shirt. After putting on brown leather sandals, he stuffed his wallet in his pocket and left the room.
The Ferguson estate wasn’t hard to find. The police had given him clear directions when he’d phoned them. He could spot the house from the road easily, but it wasn’t really a house. It was a large mansion. It lay isolated, nestled between dunes of silvery sand, its white exterior bright in the harsh sunlight. Its red tiled roof almost resembled a splotch of blood against the silver sands. Tall palm trees surrounded the mansion and the property.