by Jools Louise
I really cared for all my guys, and while we all shared in lots of sexy time together, the remaining four held themselves back slightly, as though they were scared to commit too deeply. I had the feeling that Raphael was a little uncomfortable being involved with the group all the time. He often went off by himself, or shared sexy time with Louis or Marcus one on one. I got the impression that while he enjoyed our orgies, he preferred a man-love partnership to our more flexible arrangement.
I understood and didn’t let it bother me. When they were ready, they would share. If Raphael decided he would like a different dynamic that was okay. Our association was a work in progress, not an instant partnership.
“So, are you here for an extra nap, or was there something you needed to share with us.” I smirked at Max, since he had apparently forgotten what he came in for. His mouth was currently fused with Caleb’s, hands roaming along Caleb’s muscular chest. I gave his cotton-covered ass a light slap as the kiss became more passionate.
Huffing lightly, Max eased away from Caleb’s hot mouth and grinned at me, lips glistening temptingly from the lip-lock.
“Our first guests are about to arrive, slackers. You’d better get your lazy asses out of bed or Jackson’s gonna be kicking them later.”
I gave a squeal, realizing what day it was.
My leap out of bed was less like that of a jungle panther and more like that of a stumbling sloth. The end result was that I staggered gracelessly for the bathroom, cursing Max fluidly.
I heard the laughter of the three studs, ignoring them as I washed off cum and sweat in record time.
“That cup of coffee had better be the best yet, or Jackson won’t be the only one to kick ass!” I yelled the threat to Max who laughed aloud, not intimidated in the slightest.
“That cup of coffee is waiting for you in Caleb’s Cafe just as soon as you get your sexy ass there!”
I swore at him, washing my hair and drowning out the sound of the trio’s laughing departure. Caleb and Michael had apparently decided to clean up in their own villa. A wise move, since we’d end up getting too distracted—again!
My dark brunette hair would take forever to dry so I plaited it into a thick braid down my back after towel drying it. Flinging on a pair of linen trousers, the ubiquitous bikini top, and covering it with a lightweight sleeveless top made of thin silk, I scampered out of the villa, deciding to leave the mess of sheets until later.
Welcome to paradise!
Chapter Two:
Silent Tears
Flip-flops were perhaps not the best footwear for speedy walking, but they were certainly comfortable around the island. I sped along the path from my villa, heading to the central compound where the new guests were just arriving. In this area were the crew quarters. Consisting of ten bungalows which looked out onto the stunning white sand beach, each one had an unenviable view. Criss-crossing between these bungalows were paths made from crushed seashells and cement. The paths meandered their way over to the main resort area which was half a kilometre away. The Café, manned by Caleb, offered a range of light snacks and breakfast beverages for everyone. We had our own kitchens, but the Café was our gathering place and we always ended up there.
I was cursing myself for my tardiness, since for the first time in about twenty years I was late for something. What had I been thinking? I wasn’t on an extended vacation. Our guests were people in need of a bolt-hole and counselling. My sex life would have to be put on hold for a few hours until our guests were settled in. I couldn’t even blame the rum!
As I neared the compound I heard someone crying. Frowning, I paused to listen. The sound was coming just off the path and I moved toward it.
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. Dean sat with his arms around his knees, huddled next to a tree, sobbing his heart out.
“Dean!” I knelt beside him, pulling him into my arms and hugging him close. The sobs continued, and his arms went around me clutching me tightly like a lost boy. I rocked him as though he was a child of six instead of a man in his midtwenties. He cried for several minutes before subsiding with an exhausted sigh, his head buried in the crook of my neck. His tears soaked my shirt and his moist breaths shuddered out of him as he tried to compose himself.
“What happened?” I asked the question with a hitch in my voice. His tears had been so heart-wrenching that they hurt me deep inside as I listened to the outpouring of pain.
A pair of aquamarine eyes peeped at me as he lifted his head slightly. Dean had the face of an angel. Longish blond hair, which had lightened to almost white in the sun, fell against his damp cheek. His skin was flawless, never tanning too deeply but over the past few months he had a healthy glow about him. When I first met him he had been quite shy. The youngest of the crew, he was about twenty-four years old and had the most sheltered upbringing of any of us. His parents had died when he was young and he had been raised by grandparents who were both strict and terrified of the ever changing world outside their huge mansion in the north of England.
They died just after he reached the age of twelve, leaving another child to the mercy of a system which failed to vet the people in charge of its most vulnerable. Dean had been sent to a foster home which had turned into his own private hell. Like Harry Potter in the popular wizard stories, he had been forced to sleep in a small cupboard under the staircase of the house. The foster family already had five other children, but Dean had been singled out since he was shy, quiet and terrified of the noisy confusion he had been thrown into.
Five years later the authorities had entered the house to find Dean half starved, bruised, and numb from years of verbal and physical bullying by both the kids and adults in the house. He had not been educated in those five years since his “caretakers” had not wanted the authorities to know what happened in the house. Unbelievable that no one had bothered to check up on a boy who had lost his entire family in just a few years and then had been left at the mercy of a bunch of money hungry bullies. I rarely got angry enough to feel homicidal, but I would definitely feel like hurting someone badly if I ever met up with the greedy bastards responsible for Dean’s abuse.
Fingers were pointed and blame was cast by everybody involved. No one took responsibility until one Jackson Channing Murray took charge and seized a frightened boy of eighteen from the torment, taking him under his wing. Dean was not stupid by any means, and under Jackson’s care he caught up on his education. He suffered night terrors, and once or twice I had been awakened by his screams in the night. I let Jackson tend to him, feeling more confident in Jackson’s ability to reach the terrified boy inside the man. This was the first time I had been there to catch Dean.
My hand brushed the damp hair away from Dean’s face, and I placed a tender kiss on each eyelid, soothing the reddened skin. Tears welled again, threatening to fall and I felt my own eyes fill at the despair in those beautiful blue-green eyes looking at me.
“Are you scared?” I kissed his cheek, smoothing my thumb along his smooth shaven jaw.
“I can’t do this,” he finally whispered to me, his mouth brushing my jaw as he spoke hesitantly.
I looked at him.
“This?”
“I don’t think I can help these people. I’m not qualified at anything like the others. I’m not an ex-soldier. I’m not an extrovert or a joker or a psychologist. I can’t do what they want me to do.” Dean began to cry again. “I’m stupid, why would anyone want me here?”
I was devastated that Dean felt this way. Here I was grumbling because I’d slept in, and Dean was feeling like crap. He was so quiet a lot of the time that he sometimes got pushed to the back and we all assumed he was okay since he wasn’t telling us any different. My God! How stupid did I feel at that moment?
I began to talk softly, holding him close and feeling his strong heartbeat against my chest.
“When I started my first job I was sixteen. I had no qualifications to do anything much, not even go to college. I started working at a local supermark
et. It’s the kind of job that doesn’t require a lot of thought, and people from school who had bullied me about my weight came in all the time to tell me what a loser I must be.” I could smell the fresh, clean scent of his skin, like sunshine and the sea mixed with a hint of citrus. I kissed his damp cheek, nuzzling against his soft skin.
“After a few months, other people from school came to work there. I ended up supervising one or two since I had been there for a while. The ones who had been the worst of the bullies were no better than me. They still ended up stacking shelves for the same pay I was getting because they hadn’t done so well at school. I realized they felt just as stupid and worthless as I had, they just pushed all their bad feelings onto others.”
Dean raised his head a bit more, cupping my face with a large hand, his beautiful eyes compassionate. I kissed his forehead, resting mine against his and closing my eyes, inhaling his sweet scent.
“I gained confidence and stopped worrying so much. Some of my former tormentors were just idiots and did stupid things, too lazy to do anything different. Stealing and doing drugs, that kind of stuff. They were sacked fairly quickly. The ones who stayed were the ones who realized that they were not at school anymore and could change. They realized they didn’t have to be who they were at school. They could be the people they wanted to be. They became friends of mine.”
I sighed, pausing for a moment.
“What I’m trying to say is you’re not on your own.”
I raised my head, kissing Dean’s nose and smiling at him.
“I’m sorry we haven’t been there for you, Dean. Sometimes we forget that being quiet doesn’t mean you’re not in pain or suffering. It just means you don’t know how to tell people you’re in pain. I’m scared, too. I’ve never done this type of thing before. I managed a supermarket, not people’s emotions and trauma. I’m terrified I might say or do something which will set someone back or send them over the edge. What do I know about mental health? I stacked shelves for a living!” I kissed him gently, my lips moulding to his and sipping his delicious taste as he opened to me. His tongue swirled with mine, his hands massaging along my back as the kiss deepened.
My mouth lifted slightly.
“You are definitely not stupid.” I kissed the corner of his mouth.
“You don’t need to be the extrovert or the joker or the psychologist.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss.
“We all want you here. We don’t want you to be anywhere else.” I held his head between my hands, sucking on his tongue as I tried to tell him without words how much he meant to me.
“You are sweet and sexy and you have the best butt.” He let out a startled chuckle as I gave the aforementioned butt a teasing squeeze. “Yep! Definitely the best butt! It’s like a ripe peach, just waiting for someone to bite into it.” I nipped his lower lip, sucking on it and he moaned, his cock hardening against my thigh.
“We have to greet our guests, luv. You can help me check them in and get them situated in their villas. Caleb will need a hand with luggage, then the bar later. We’ll check with Jackson who has appointments with him tomorrow, then you can help by making sure they find their way, okay?”
“Yes, we should greet our guests.” Dean sniffed and I looked around for a tissue, shrugging when all I found were palm leaves and sand. Tugging the camisole top over my head, I let him blow his nose in the cloth…what was a bit of snot between friends?
Realizing I now only wore my bikini top and linen pants I asked Dean to run back to my villa for another top. He would be a lot faster than my stumpy legs.
He grinned, kissing me again and legged it, returning five minutes later with another top which I put on before heading off to the compound hand in hand as I teased him about his cute butt.
Just before we began to greet the newcomers, I pulled his head down.
“I love you,” I murmured in his ear and his grin split his face. He dragged me into a hug which had me gasping for breath. “I love you, too, sexy,” he replied, giving me a big kiss in front of everyone which had me blushing as ten new sets of eyes studied the pair of us with varying degrees of interest.
Great entrance, I thought to myself.
Jackson looked at me and Dean, his sharp eyes taking in Dean’s reddened eyes and the tearstains on his cheeks.
“Later,” I mouthed to him and he nodded, smiling slightly as Dean put his arm around me.
I finally was able to study the new arrivals, blushing bright red as I met each pair of eyes separately. There was more than a little amusement at my blushing.
“Welcome to El Santuario. My name’s Jess. Despite whatever you may have seen or heard I’m usually far more punctual, so sorry for my tardiness this morning.” I shook each person’s hand, smiling at each in turn as I ignored the knowing expressions on people’s faces.
“Darlin’, if he’s the reason for you bein’ late, I’m not surprised at all. I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed in a hurry!” The voice carried the soft rolling drawl of the Deep South, the grin wicked and knowing as he shook my hand, turning his cheerful blue gaze on Dean and giving the blushing blond an approving once-over.
“My name’s Marty. I’m your new nurse, sweetie.” He smiled at me, pecking me on the cheek.
I grinned at him, remembering Jackson telling me about conducting interviews with people to fill a couple of medical vacancies. He had mentioned Marty, but hadn’t given too much detail. Both Marty and two other medical personnel had accompanied the flight to the island, helping with the new arrivals. The man had shoulder-length sable-coloured hair tied back in a ponytail. He towered a good foot over my five and a half feet and he definitely looked as unlike a nurse as I could imagine. He resembled a Rambo lookalike, all rippling muscles and smooth satiny skin. First impressions aside, he looked at me with no sexual interest whatsoever, but the gleam in his eye as he studied Dean’s leanly muscled frame had me grasping Marty’s forearm lightly.
“Marty, my dear, there a few ground rules which you might be best hearing before we go any further.” I spoke softly to him, putting my lips close as close to his ear as I could, moving to my tiptoes. “The crew are off limits until they tell me differently. We are here to help victims of trauma and abuse. Please don’t start off on the wrong foot with me.” My words had a steely edge to them as I had seen Dean’s discomfort with Marty’s leer.
Marty immediately looked at me, startled, before studying Dean more carefully, eyes serious as he assessed the blushing blond.
“Well, sugah, I certainly did not mean to offend anyone. I am a big flirt and I just arrived to find myself surrounded by a whole stable of stud muffins, a banquet of beefcake. I surely do not mean to upset anyone, at least not in the first five minutes of getting off the plane.” Marty patted my arm, giving me a peck on the cheek. “Don’t you worry, sugah, I won’t ruffle anyone’s feathers. Although, if you could let me know if any of the stud cakes need any extra attention, you all just send them straight to me.” His chuckle was naughty and full of mischief as he winked at me.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. I had a feeling our little island paradise had just welcomed a force to be reckoned with.
“Don’t you worry, sugah!” I murmured, grinning. “If anyone needs special attention, you’ll be the second to know!” I winked back, leaving him to bark out a laugh as I moved on to greet the next guest.
Hours later, luggage was stowed, guests were ensconced in their villas, and I was discussing the new arrivals’ schedules for the coming two weeks. Each guest had been invited for a minimum of twelve weeks, with initial appointments scheduled to assess their individual needs. From there a course of therapy would be arranged with Jackson based on the assessment.
I had initially wanted Dean to help out the patients, letting him take each person to their appointments initially. Having met Marty, who would be there to carry out blood tests and general medical procedures, I wasn’t so sure Dean should be near him so soon.
I knew
I was probably worrying unnecessarily, but after Dean’s outburst earlier, I also knew he was vulnerable and wasn’t about to let anyone else hurt him. Dean had led a sheltered life, then been made to feel like crap by people who were supposed to take care of him. Then, we neglect him and make him feel like he isn’t good enough to be here. I was damned if some big, camp Southern boy was going to hurt Dean again, no matter how harmless he seemed. I mentioned my fears to Jackson.
“Jess, don’t try to fight all of Dean’s battles for him, or he’ll be right back to being the timid boy he was when his grandparents died. You have to let him stand up for himself. You have to let him feel useful. If you stop him helping out and coddle him too much, he’s going to feel even more like he doesn’t belong.” I stared into Jackson’s liquid-brown eyes, realizing that Jackson knew exactly what Dean had been feeling. I thought about the times when Dean had gone quiet, seeming to isolate himself from the group when we got too rowdy. Jackson had always been right there, offering a shoulder to lean on.
“Do you honestly think I would allow anyone on this island that would harm anyone here?” His brown eyes met mine, willing me to understand.
“No,” I replied, ducking my head in embarrassment that I had doubted him. Then I raised my head and stared back at him. “This is Dean, though. I held him in my arms earlier when he cried his heart out, frightened that we didn’t want him, frightened he wasn’t good enough. I won’t let anyone hurt him, however harmless you tell me they are.” I said this fiercely, like a mama lion defending her cub.
“You may have assessed Marty, but I certainly haven’t.” I glared at Jackson, arms crossed over my chest.