Reaper's Reward

by Marie Harte

  But he’d timed everything perfectly. Right now, the man assigned to guard Rick’s personal security servers shot out of the small room to take care of a sudden intestinal problem ‑‑ compliments of a doped cup of mango iced tea. Though the guard had enough presence of mind to lock up behind him, he hadn’t counted on anyone else having the proper password and keycard to enter the small room.

  The intruder let himself into the room and quickly took in his surroundings. To his left were a rack of servers and digital equipment he had little interest in. The wall-mounted monitors to his right, however, made him take note. Several video feeds showed the open courtyard, pool, and common dining areas. Another smaller, desk-mounted computer screen remained blank, and it was on this that he focused. He sat down at the desk and pulled the keyboard close. Glancing down at the code written on his palm, he typed in the random numbers and letters he’d been given ‑‑ for a small damned fortune ‑‑ and stared in awe as the screen flickered and came to life.

  The screen was sectioned into three views. In one, Rick and Elise were fucking like there was no tomorrow in a private Jacuzzi, a scene that both surprised and irritated him. In another, a prominent senator and his boyfriend ‑‑ not his wife ‑‑ were engaging in some interesting positions culminating in a messy release. Though stimulating, and with great potential for blackmail material, the images didn’t interest him. He had his sights set on a bigger prize.

  Thoughts of finally stealing Rick’s prized possession, the Mirvolo Cup, refused to let him go. Ever since he’d seen the thing, he’d known he had to have it. Like the other objects he’d stolen, hell, even killed to acquire, the cup would tie him to the preternatural pleasures inherent in all of Bacchus’s true artifacts. He could still remember the odd feeling he’d experienced after drinking from the cup and knew Rick’s chalice, more than any other relic, had been the wine god’s favorite.

  Perhaps tonight he’d finally get his hands on the damned thing. He just needed to verify with his own eyes where the cup should be. Once assured Rick’s room lay empty, he’d jaunt down the private corridor after turning off the security cameras and then, bingo.

  But as he quickly scanned the lower view into Rick’s room, rotating the hidden camera left and right, he was stunned at the erotic escapades in Rick’s massive bed, a bed he’d once been invited into.

  The new security man, Ethan Reaper, was fucking the shit out of some dark-haired goddess on her knees. He looked closer. Holy shit. Said goddess was Jewel Riser, the new hottie he’d been more than pleased to meet, and who’d mysteriously vanished three days ago. Damn, but he hadn’t realized she’d been added to Rick’s “dessert” menu. Uncertainty and anger confused him, and he focused on the screen. What the hell was Ethan doing in Rick’s room? And who knew Ethan had such wonderfully wicked proclivities?

  The intruder licked his lips. He’d met Ethan and been immediately intrigued, more so knowing the giant had been hired specifically to stand in his way. But he could never have imagined how delicious the guard would look during sex.

  Reaper’s taut ass flexed as he drove inside the woman’s soft mouth. Groaning and grunting, the domineering man referred to the woman as his slave, and the watcher rubbed his own stiffening cock with pleasure. Rick had once been forceful like that. The one night Rick and he had screwed, he’d come so hard he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

  But after only one evening with Rick, he’d been banished to ex-lover status, both Rick and the Mirvolo Cup out of reach. In addition to the fortune it would bring on the black market, the cup was rumored to have mystical powers, powers the intruder knew to be true. He’d never before felt such sexual ecstasy as he had after sipping from it, and no matter how many lovers he took to his bed, he hadn’t felt that earth-shattering pleasure since.

  It was more than Rick. It had to be, he thought with desperation. Rick had no more interest in him since having had him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the canny resort owner discovered his guilt. Yes, he’d been sloppy with Meyers. He never should have killed the man, but he hadn’t been certain Meyers hadn’t seen him in his private vault.

  The screen took his attention again, and he stroked himself as he watched Ethan come over the woman’s tongue. She thanked him repeatedly for the treat, and he wondered that he hadn’t earlier sensed the submissive buried in her.

  A sexy woman, Jewel Riser had an abundance of curves, a smart mouth, and a sense of humor. Unlike Ethan, who barely spoke and remained as expressionless as a rock wall. A ton of muscle, but not much upstairs, or so he had thought.

  Hmm, apparently, Ethan had a lot more going on than first appeared. Glancing at the man’s large, dripping cock, he smiled. Much more.

  He panned the camera again, dismayed to find the Mirvolo Cup not in its usual place on the four-foot display table in the corner of the room. The table sat empty, and Ethan occupied the room while Rick took up with that slut Elise elsewhere. But the cup had to be in there. The million-dollar question was how to manage an opportunity to look around.

  Filtering through resort images on the security feed, nervous excitement stole through him. Images of the VIPs sexing it up, thoughts about stealing Rick’s most prized possession, and the imagined look on Rick’s face when Rick knew he’d been bested ‑‑ by him ‑‑ all created a whirlwind of dark desire. Lust and longing filled him, and a wave of self-righteousness seethed. I’ll teach you to disregard me, to throw me aside. He scowled at Rick, so caught up in Elise that the man couldn’t see the truth when it stared him right in the face, day in and day out.

  Pressure pushed his balls tight, and as he stroked harder, he coiled to release and made the decision to infiltrate Rick’s room…tonight.

  “What the hell?”

  He turned, surprised. He hadn’t heard the door open.

  “What are you doing in here?” Peter Dancourt, the guard, asked in bewilderment.

  “Waiting for you, lover,” he purred and stood, pleased when Peter swallowed loudly and focused on his erection. The guard’s eyes otherwise occupied, he missed the glint of silver that would have announced the intruder’s real intentions. Three smart stabs and Peter gasped into death.

  Staring down at his brawny ex-lover and caught up in the rush from having killed another man, he groaned and began stroking himself, finishing what he’d started earlier. He knelt down and aimed, and came in a stream over the deceased ‑‑ a fitting tribute to a man who hadn’t set him aside. A lover’s last gift.

  He smiled.

  In a few days, DNA testing would prove him responsible. But by then he’d be long gone. A murderer, right under Rick’s nose. If this didn’t scare Rick, nothing would.

  * * * * *

  Jewel sighed and snuggled into Ethan’s tight embrace. For three days straight he’d taunted her, tempted her, and shot her into so many orgasms she’d lost count. For a man bent on domination, he’d proved remarkably unselfish. She’d assumed, incorrectly, that he’d find his pleasure again and again, leaving her to wallow in frustrated misery. But Ethan had surprised her.

  She knew a little about the D/s scene, from reading and talking with a few friends about the lifestyle. So she knew Ethan was anything but typical. He wasn’t hardcore, thank God, and alternated too frequently to be a real Dom. Oh, he enjoyed her calling him her master well enough, but he seemed to like her resistance as much as he liked her giving in.

  But, hello, her submission made him so hard and so thick, it was a wonder she could walk at all. She was glad of her contraceptive, or he’d surely have planted a baby by now. Jewel paused, and immediately shied away from tender thoughts of carrying Ethan’s child. Literally shaking her head, she realized that for a woman who wasn’t really into sex, she’d had more of it in her week here than she’d ever thought possible.

  Even now her vagina felt deliciously used and a bit sore. Yet her ass remained as virgin as the day she’d arrived. She knew he was putting off the ass reaming she “so deserved” to draw o
ut their excitement and anticipation. And damned if it wasn’t working. Each time he mounted her, she wondered, would he do it now? And the butt plug he kept using on her, as well as his incredibly stimulating tongue, made her want it.

  Wrapped in Ethan’s strong arms as she was, her mission seemed so far away. They hadn’t talked much, and she was both disappointed and glad. She wanted to know more about him. Hell, she was hungry for even a side note about his life outside the resort. But if he answered her questions, he’d likely ask her the same ones. And she didn’t want to have to lie to him, any more than she wanted to listen to his lies. She’d caught snippets of his phone conversations with Rick, and Ethan seemed as concerned with Rick’s well-being as his property…making her think he was here more to protect Rick than the Mirvolo Cup.

  Jewel knew and understood the measure of value, and the stupid cup was priceless. Sure, she liked stealing to keep in practice. But with that damned cup…the pleasure to be had in its theft wouldn’t compensate for the risk of discovery. And more importantly, she had no desire to violate Ethan’s trust.

  “You’re thinking too loudly.” Ethan chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

  Warmth unfurled in her belly. “I’m curious about you.”

  “Oh?”

  Hell. She desperately needed something more of him to hold onto… “Where are you from? And why are you really here?”

  “I could ask you the same things.”

  “I’m from New Jersey, near the shoreline. And I’m Jewel Riser, waitress extraordinaire.”

  He didn’t laugh as she thought he might; instead, he flipped her onto her back and leaned over her, staring.

  “What?”

  “You’re a mystery, Jewel Riser. A woman who doesn’t exist, in a place too wild for her own good.”

  “Doesn’t exist?” She forced a laugh. “I’m right here.”

  “Please. I’m damned good at my job, Jewel. And no Jewel Riser has ever lived and worked in Jersey or any other state on the East Coast, unless you count an eighty-year-old grandmother of four.”

  Her pulse raced. He knew Jewel Riser didn’t exist. She stared, wondering what to say.

  “Can’t you trust me not to hurt you with the truth?” he asked quietly, a flash of emotion in his eyes, gone so fast she wasn’t sure she’d even seen it.

  “I want to, Ethan.” She surprised herself with the admission, and could see she pleased him as well. “But I don’t really know you, either. Why should I spill my guts when you won’t do the same?”

  He said nothing, appearing thoughtful. Ethan shifted over her, pressing into her and effectively pinning her beneath him. That easily, she grew distracted at the sight and sensation of such raw strength. His biceps bulged, and his chest flexed, such a wonderful ripple of muscle that she wanted to lick all over…if she wasn’t so exhausted from their lovemaking already.

  As she thought it, Jewel flushed. Lovemaking. Could she call what they’d done lovemaking? Could a person be “loving” while tied to bedposts, sucking down her lover’s cum while his mouth brought her to a violent climax? Yet Ethan’s sexual play had softened after that first intense day. Though he was still Mr. Dominant, her master, he seemed to look on her with pride and affection, as more than a simple sexual partner.

  His gaze now held that same admiration, and a hint of a smile. “That’s what I like about you, Jewel. You’re a real pain in the ass. Everything with you has to be earned.”

  She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but his smile indicated it should be taken as such.

  “I’ll tell you the truth about me if you can tell me everything you know about Rick’s cup.” He pressed a sequence of buttons on the wall near the bed, and she watched in awe as the wall freaking moved, revealing a hidden panel, behind which sat Rick’s blasted cup protected by an inner wall of glass.

  “Crap. You would have to ask that.” She grinned under her bluster, content to lay next to Ethan for the rest of her life ‑‑ the rest of the night, she quickly corrected herself. “I know the thing belongs to Rick, obviously, and he makes all of his employees drink from it when they step foot on his island. He fills it with some funky wine that makes your head spin the minute you drink it, and he offers some wacky prayer to Bacchus, as if the cup’s blessed, or something.

  “The cup’s old, I can tell you that. And those rubies and sapphires on the base are real, the gold authentic and probably between eighteen and twenty carats. Rick’s so freaking in love with all things Roman that it shouldn’t be a surprise he’s devoted this room to Bacchus, the Roman god of wine and pleasure.”

  “That’s all pretty basic. Anything else?”

  “It’s called the Mirvolo Cup.” Jewel huffed and finally gave up on her earlier lie. “I don’t know that much about Roman antiques.”

  “Well, that’s the most honest you’ve been with me so far.”

  She sighed. “Look, I told you what you wanted to hear. Now tell me about Ethan Reaper, if that’s really your name.” Jewel desperately wanted to know more about Ethan. The more he told her, the better chance she’d have in finding some flaw so she could readily dismiss him when she left the island and returned to New Jersey. That way, thoughts of leaving wouldn’t hurt so damned much.

  “My name really is Ethan Reaper. I live in Seattle and run a successful security firm.”

  She hadn’t expected that, but she supposed it fit. So why the hell was he here?

  “Someone wants to steal the Mirvolo Cup from Rick, and we’re worried about the danger to Rick’s life as well.”

  She frowned. “Over the cup? Why kill him when someone could steal it easily enough?”

  His eyes narrowed, and she realized she’d overstepped herself.

  “What I meant to say is, why kill Rick? Everyone who knows the guy loves him.”

  “Including you?” His voice was quiet, intimidating, and yet sexy as hell. For some weird reason, the meaner he grew, the wetter she grew.

  “Not including me.” She sighed. “Look, I couldn’t care less about Rick’s Roman antique, and I don’t wish him dead. I’m here, ah, let’s just say I’m here on a confidential job of my own.”

  His interest seemed to intensify. His brown eyes deepened to black, and his body tensed, waiting for more.

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge a whole lot. Suffice it to say, I have to get my hands on some damaging film that was taken by someone who’s here.”

  He paused a moment. “Did he, or she, happen to take photos of a guest while they vacationed here?”

  Ethan’s question surprised her. She thought for sure he’d demand to know specifics right away. “Ah, yes, in fact, he did.”

  “Then, you have to tell Rick about this, Jewel. That is your name, isn’t it?”

  She flushed at his dry tone and frowned. “Technically, no. My name is Julia. But I’ve always gone by Jewel.”

  He studied her. “Jewel suits you.”

  “Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “Glad you approve.”

  He chuckled and began rubbing her belly, soft, stroking swirls that comforted as well as stirred her senses. “Damn, but you’re a real firecracker, aren’t you? A firecracker out of bed, and a sexual dynamo between the sheets.”

  “You say the sweetest things.” Jewel drew him down for a kiss, surprised when Ethan tenderly kissed her lips.

  “Sweet? Just what every guy wants to hear. But seriously, Jewel. You need to tell Rick about why you’re here. Trust me, I understand all about confidentiality. But Rick’s fierce when it comes to privacy at this place. And if your boy has pictures of one guest, it’s a sure bet he has pictures of another.”

  She hadn’t thought about Denton possibly blackmailing someone else. Rick had high profile clients visiting all the time. Denton could really do some serious damage.

  “So I guess your cover as a waitress was just that?” Ethan kissed her cheeks. “No fiancé? No dire straits? No addiction to public sex and orgies?”

  “No.” She flu
shed, caught by the warmth of his gaze. God, but he looked at her like he felt something more than lust, more than simple affection even. Jewel swallowed and shook her head.

  “Good.” He kissed her hard and gripped her hands over her head. “But for lying to me, you’ve earned more than a spanking this time, Jewel.”

  Lust flared, and she tried to protest, but they both knew she didn’t mean it. Just as Jewel was about to confess how much he made her burn, how much he made her yearn for something more, an alarm sounded.

  Ethan’s gaze turned from aroused to menacing in a heartbeat. He quickly closed the wall housing the cup and shot out of bed, throwing on a pair of pants and his shoes. “Stay there. Whatever you do, don’t leave this room. I’m setting it on lockdown. That cup stays here, and you with it.”

  She would have protested but then she saw the Beretta he tucked in the small of his back. Instead, she nodded.

  “Be careful, Ethan. I wouldn’t want any harm to come to my…master.”

  He slowly smiled. “I will, so long as Rick’s treasure, and mine, are well guarded.”

  He departed in a blur, leaving her lying naked in Rick’s bed, her mouth wide open. His treasure? She grinned from ear to ear. Well, hot damn.

  Chapter Six

  Ethan crouched over Pete Dancourt’s dead body. “Shit.” He’d liked Pete. In the three weeks since his arrival, Pete had been a consistent presence, knowledgeable about security and full of useful information about the island. But now he lay dead, stabbed to death, with someone’s sperm staining his shirt.

  What the hell did that mean? Had Pete and his killer been intimate? Was it a warning, that the killer had had ample time to kill Pete and stick around for some perverted jacking off? Or was the killer simply crazy, a sexual deviant wandering free around the worst type of resort for a criminal of his kind?