by Mari Carr
Once the third drink was consumed, she reached out and touched his hand. “I still think you should go. Treat it like a writer’s retreat. Get out of the city, clear your head of the bullshit and start filling it with those damn serial killers you seem to love to terrorize the rest of us avid readers with.”
It was a tempting offer. He’d read quite a bit about Eden over the past couple of years. Apparently an eccentric, reclusive billionaire had purchased the island, moved a castle there—brick by brick—from Ireland and set it up as a tropical paradise. Located off the coast of Florida, it attracted the wealthy, the famous and those—probably like him—who just wanted to get the hell away from the world for a while.
What Jett suspected Carissa didn’t realize was that Eden was also whispered about quite frequently in the BDSM community because of its well-known and popular dungeon, run by one of the most renowned masters in the world, Roan.
Jett’s older brother, Justin, had introduced him to the BDSM lifestyle several years earlier when Jett was researching the sadomasochist set for a novel he was writing. He’d interviewed several prominent Doms—Roan included—taken a few lessons in bondage, studied the psychology behind the sex, and realized his interest had become less about work, taking a much more personal turn.
He’d joined a private club and started putting his new knowledge to use. While he didn’t consider himself a lifestyle Dom, he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed “playing” with a sub, pushing a beautiful woman to her limits and sometimes beyond.
Justin’s writer’s block advice had actually involved Jett frequenting the club more often. His older brother was a firm believer in sex cures all. Justin had been a player for years, though recently he’d settled down with one woman, Bella, whom he shared with his best friend, Ned. Jett had wondered if Justin could make forever work in a committed ménage. So far, he had. Which thrilled the family because they all loved Bella and Ned.
“You could use the vacation as much as me, Rissa. When’s the last time you got out of New Orleans?”
Carissa shrugged. “Never.”
Jett frowned. “What?”
“I’ve never left New Orleans.”
Jett wasn’t sure how to respond. He and Carissa had been friends for years. How could he not have known this about her? “Seriously?”
She toyed with his glass, not bothering to look at him as she spoke. He got the impression she was embarrassed. “I’ve spent about ninety-nine percent of my life in this damn bar, Jett. It’s not like this dump has made my family or me rich. Plus it’s open from noon to four a.m. every single day of the week. That doesn’t leave much time to play tourist anywhere else.”
Her admission jelled with what he knew of Carissa’s upbringing. It had taken him years of hanging out in the bar to get her to open up about herself. She’d inherited the Royal Lunch from her workaholic father, who—like Jett’s own dad—had died of a massive heart attack while in his fifties. Carissa had shared that information with Jett when he’d been tying one on at the bar on the fifth anniversary of his father’s death. He still missed his dad intensely. Papa Lewis had been larger-than-life and he’d seemed invincible to Jett. His father’s passing had taught Jett a hard lesson about exactly how fleeting life was.
“You have to go to Eden, Rissa.”
She shook her head and he suddenly realized why she was hesitant. How intimidating would it be for a girl who’d never left New Orleans to get on a plane and take off to some island in the middle of nowhere on her own?
However, regardless of her unease, Jett wanted Carissa to have the opportunity to see more of the world. Since becoming a full-time author, Jett had done quite a bit of jet setting around the world, for conferences, speaking engagements and book signings.
She gave him a look that told him she wouldn’t be moved. “It’s not going to happen. So take the tickets or they’re going in the garbage. Even if I had someone to go with, I can’t close the bar for a week and I have no one here to leave in charge.”
Jett started to argue but Carissa’s gaze left his, drifting out the front window to the street. She winced.
He turned to see what she was looking at.
“Um…listen, I’m sorry about this, Jett, but you sort of left me no choice.”
There, waiting for the light to change so they could cross the street, was his family. All of them…plus the significant others.
He glanced at Carissa. “You ratted me out?”
“I had to. I was heading to your mother’s house when you showed up.”
“You were coming to Sunday dinner?”
Carissa nodded. “I called your mom to see if she thought you’d take the tickets. She loved the idea and then insisted I come to dinner to give them to you there. She said she’d make sure you didn’t refuse. Mama Lewis thinks this trip could be the answer to overcoming your writer’s block.”
Jett wondered briefly if he could make a break for it, escape the coming onslaught by high-tailing it out the back door. That idea was dashed when the bell above the front door rang and the loud sound of his entire family—all talking at once—destroyed the peace that had reigned in the bar just moments before.
He turned to face his mother as she walked directly to him.
“You missed dinner.”
He nodded. “I was going to call you later to explain.”
Mama lifted her hand and patted his cheek. She’d used that gesture of affection for as long as he could remember. “It’s time to turn the corner, son.” Mama looked over at Carissa. “You told him about the trip?”
Carissa nodded, her expression wavering between amusement over his mother’s arrival and guilt that she’d set him up for this. Jett narrowed his eyes, letting her know she wasn’t off the hook.
The rest of his family seemed content to let Carissa and Mama handle things. Setting the Lewis clan free in a bar was equivalent to ringing the last bell before summer break in high school. Chaos ensued as they all bellied up to the counter, ordering Bloody Marys and Hurricanes and asking Shawn to turn up the volume on the baseball game.
“So you’re going.”
It wasn’t a question. His mama had delivered an edict. Carissa snickered, fully aware there was only one person in the world he wouldn’t say no to, and that was his mother. Carissa had taken the decision to accept or refuse the trip out of his hands the moment she’d called Mama.
Then Jett spied a way to get his revenge. “I’ll go on one condition.”
“And what would that be?” Mama didn’t appear concerned. After all, there was pretty much nothing the woman couldn’t accomplish when she put her mind to it. She’d raised four children of her own as well as countless foster kids. She was a force to be reckoned with and most people had learned it was much easier to just say yes from the get-go. Saved them time since Mama Lewis would continue pressing until she got her way.
Jett smiled at Carissa. “Rissa goes with me. She won the trip and I wouldn’t feel right taking the tickets away from her. She’s always wanted to go to Eden. Think she called it a ‘dream trip’ once.” Jett continued to pile it on, making certain to cement Carissa’s fate with his mother. “Besides, she’s never taken a trip or even ventured out of New Orleans. This is an opportunity I can’t deny her.”
Mama turned to Carissa. “I think that’s a wonderful idea! So it’s all—”
“I can’t go, Jett. I told you that. I can’t afford to close the bar for a week and there’s no one to—”
“Hey, Noah. What are you doing next week?” Jett asked his younger foster brother, cutting Carissa off mid-refusal.
Noah shrugged. “Thought I’d bum around as long as Mama Lewis will let me, then try to find some summer work. My next semester at the Culinary Institute doesn’t start until September.”
“How would you like to start that summer work now? Run the Royal Lunch for Rissa next week.”
Noah rose from his stool at the bar and joined them. “Oh my God, man. Seriously? I’d love that
!”
“Jett—” Carissa started.
“It’s the perfect solution,” Mama interjected. “Truth is Noah’s only been home a few days and he’s already driving me crazy. Plus, he’s an incredible cook, Carissa. This would give him the opportunity to try out some of his recipes with your customers. It could be a win-win for both of you. And if it works out, maybe you’ll consider keeping him on until he returns to school.”
Jett walked over to a sign she’d posted in the window and pulled it down. He flashed the words Help Wanted at her. “Kills two birds with one stone.”
Carissa closed her eyes, her expression proving she knew she’d been beaten. “Fine. Can you start tomorrow, Noah? The flight to Eden leaves next Saturday, so that will give me a week to show you the ropes around here and get you set up as far as the food orders and where to deposit the money.”
Noah grinned, clearly thrilled to have landed a job that would include cooking and a cool boss. “I won’t let you down, Carissa. I swear. I have a ton of ideas for some different po’ boys you could add to the menu. And a new recipe for etouffee that’s to die for. Might even try to pair some of your lunch specials with different drinks.”
Noah’s enthusiasm was infectious. Carissa laughed. “Okay, okay. That all sounds great. But keep in mind, this bar is pretty old school and known for its classic dive-like atmosphere. Don’t get too fancy and everything will be fine.”
“Deal.” Noah returned to the bar, engaging Shawn in a conversation about what liquors they had on hand. Jett could practically see the wheels spinning in his foster brother’s head.
Mama Lewis clasped his hand and squeezed. “I’m so pleased for both of you. And Jett, I know this trip is going to do the trick. I suspect the second your feet hit that sand, your words will come back to you.”
Jett didn’t reply. After six months of staring at a blank page on his laptop, he’d begun to lose faith. With the added pressure of a deadline looming, his agent and publisher screaming at him daily on the phone and fans continually asking “where’s the next book?”, he felt like a man with a noose around his neck.
“Now, I vote we shake things up this Sunday. What’s the lunch special today, Carissa? And do you have enough to feed all of us?”
Carissa laughed. “It’s gumbo. And there’s plenty.”
“Perfect. I’ll just nip into the kitchen and help your poor cook dip it up.” And with that, Mama Lewis disappeared into the back.
Jett winked at Carissa once they were alone again. “Gotcha,” he joked.
“Awesome, Jett.” Carissa’s tone was pure sarcasm. “Did you forget the part about this trip being a lover’s retreat? Jacuzzi. One room. One bed.”
Jett enjoyed the slight flush that covered her cheeks as she stressed that they’d be essentially shacking up while on vacation. It provoked him to tease her even more. “I don’t have a problem invoking a friends-with-benefits deal for the week.”
She smirked. “I’m sure you don’t, but no thanks. Hell will freeze over first. We’re putting a line of pillows down the middle of the mattress. And there will be no crossing the barrier.”
He chuckled, but agreed. Jett had been a bit annoyed about being backed into a corner on the trip, however, now that it was a reality, he found himself excited about the adventure. Carissa would be an easy traveling companion and the idea of sneaking away to explore Eden’s dungeon each night appealed to him as well. Suddenly, he was imagining an entire week of beach, bondage and brainstorming ideas for his next book.
Mama was right. It was time to turn a corner.
Chapter Two
Carissa stared at the puddle jumper in front of her and wondered how the hell Jett had managed to drag her from the safety of her tiny bar to this airport in Florida. They’d just finished driving twelve hours from New Orleans to Miami. Jett had offered to buy them tickets for flights from Louis Armstrong airport to this miniscule landing strip, but one flight was going to be scary enough. She didn’t think she’d manage to work up the courage for two take-offs and two landings.
So they’d packed their suitcases in the car and left home at the ass crack of dawn. Hell, three a.m. couldn’t even be considered dawn. They’d departed in the middle of the night, taking turns driving while the other caught catnaps. Around lunchtime, they were both wide awake and her excitement about the trip had grown as they talked about all the things they wanted to try while at Eden—everything from caviar to snorkeling, rock climbing to sunbathing with fruity drinks in hand. She dreamed of sexy cabana boys, while Jett joked about meeting an island babe, skipping the return flight home and living out his days as a native, wearing nothing but palm leaves for clothing.
As she studied the tin can that was apparently going to deliver her to paradise, she remembered the lesson her father had started teaching her from a very young age. All good things come with a price.
“This was a mistake,” she muttered. She hadn’t meant to voice her anxiety aloud. After all, she hadn’t mentioned her fear of flying to Jett.
“No it wasn’t,” he said. “I was teasing about the friends-with-benefits thing, Carissa. We’re just two pals going on a trip.”
He’d misunderstood her anxiety. Mercifully. “When does the flight take off again?”
“Five o’clock.”
Carissa checked her watch. They had less than an hour. She glanced around, hoping to spy a bar. Maybe she could curb her nervousness with a couple shots of tequila. That hope was dashed when a pretty dark-haired woman approached them.
“Are you Carissa Pierre and Jett Lewis?”
Jett nodded. “That’s us.”
The woman extended her hand. “I’m Joely, the pilot.” As Jett accepted her handshake, she added, “I’m a big fan of your books, Mr. Lewis.”
Jett smiled. “Please, call me Jett.”
“You’re the pilot?” Carissa didn’t mean to speak so loudly or to put quite so much disbelief into her tone, but seriously? The woman looked like she should still be hanging out by the lockers in high school before first bell.
Joely didn’t take offense. “I’m older than I look.”
It was on the tip of Carissa’s tongue to say “I doubt it,” but she’d already been rude. It probably wasn’t a good idea to piss off the woman who was going to hold Carissa’s life in her hands in less than—Carissa glanced at her watch—thirty minutes.
“I’m going to throw up.”
Her admission caught Jett’s attention. “You’re afraid of flying?”
Carissa didn’t own much in life, but one thing she had in spades was pride. “No. I’m not.” It was a lie, but she stiffened her spine, threw her shoulders back and delivered it with so much conviction she almost convinced herself her fear wasn’t real.
Almost.
Jett narrowed his eyes, studying her face. She had one hell of a poker face, so she held her own.
Joely had lost interest in their conversation and was consulting her clipboard. “You two are my last flight today. There’s a storm system moving in, supposed to hit Miami within the hour. How would you feel about leaving now?”
So much for the tequila. Jett quickly agreed, obviously delighted that they could begin their adventure sooner.
Her stomach roiled, but she followed the others, dragging her suitcase behind her, wishing she’d thought to bring Dramamine or a sleeping pill. Being unconscious for the next few hours would be a welcome respite.
Once their luggage was loaded onboard, Joely took her place in the pilot’s chair and began fiddling with the controls. Mercifully, Jett had nabbed a window seat, saving her from having too good a view of their plummet back to earth when everything went terribly wrong.
Carissa’s chest tightened, her lungs seizing as she found it difficult to breathe. She tried to focus on the back of Joely’s chair, but her peripheral vision kept landing on all the buttons Joely was pushing and then the sound of the plane’s engine fired up loudly.
“Shit,” she whispered, hoping the no
ise would drown out her panic.
It hadn’t. Distracted from the scene outside, Jett’s attention was drawn to her. She didn’t bother to look his way. She was too embarrassed, perfectly aware that her astute best friend probably wasn’t missing anything—not her labored breathing or her white-knuckle grip on the armrests or the way her knee was bouncing approximately seventy-two thousand times a second.
As if to confirm her fears, Jett’s hand landed on her leg, halting her nervous habit.
“Look at me, Rissa.”
She wanted to. She really did, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the back of Joely’s chair for fear she’d catch sight of something she didn’t want to see. The plane was in motion now.
Jett’s hand cupped her chin, turning her to him. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out whatever might be happening outside his window.
They flew open when she felt Jett’s lips on hers.
She tried to rear back, but Jett had anticipated her escape. His hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.
For several moments, Carissa wasn’t sure what to do. This was Jett, a man she’d considered her best friend for years. They’d never kissed. It had never even occurred to her to do such a thing. It wasn’t that she thought Jett was unattractive. It was simply that she wasn’t attracted to him in that way.
Or, at least, she hadn’t been. The man sure as hell knew how to kiss.
She followed his direction as his tongue swiped at her lower lip. She opened her mouth and let him in. His hand loosened when he sensed her acquiescence, moving to her cheek, his fingers lightly caressing her face.
God. Sexiest kiss ever.
Carissa lifted her arms to his shoulders, allowing herself to stroke his dark hair. Jett had been blessed with his mother’s thick mane, as opposed to his brother Caliph, who kept his head completely shaved. Both looks were sexy, but she preferred the way Jett’s hair fell over one eye when he let it grow just a touch too long.