True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2)

by Mandy Lee

  ‘You want to lie in the shade?’ I ask, coming to stand by his side.

  ‘Of course not.’ He smiles lazily. ‘I want to fuck in the shade.’

  And that does it. A rising heat in my groin, a flutter in my clitoris. I look back at the pathway.

  ‘What? Here?’

  ‘It’s the only shade on the beach, Maya.’ He snakes an arm behind his head. ‘Strip for me.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Chill out. This place is completely private.’

  ‘But what about Bill?’

  ‘He never comes down here. Now get on with it. Strip.’ Lips parted, eyes hooded, he waves a hand. ‘And do it slowly. You know what I like.’

  Feeling distinctly nervous, I lift the strappy top over my head and drop it onto the sand. He smiles, taking in my body as if he’s savouring a work of art, and I know exactly what he wants next: a good view of my breasts. But he’s not getting it, not just yet. I’m going to make him wait. Deciding to leave the bra in place for now, I unfasten my shorts instead and edge them down my legs, taking my time, stepping out of them in slow motion before I straighten up. When I finally take off my bra, I throw it at his face, but he’s far too quick. With a grin, he catches it, swirls it round a finger and flings it off towards the second sunbed.

  Before I can even make a start on my knickers, he signals for me to get closer. Tucking an index finger into the waistband, he runs it from side to side, smiling to himself in a reverie that doesn’t last for long. He tugs at the knickers, forcing me onto the sunbed, his big hands manoeuvring me into position and I’m kneeling now, straddling his crotch, his hard-on totally evident. I feel a hand at the back of my head, and I’m pulled in for a kiss.

  ‘What now?’ I breathe.

  ‘This.’

  In an instant, he reaches down and tears away the knickers.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell.’

  Ignoring my complaint, he takes hold of my thighs and grinds against me. Already pulsating deep inside, I swallow back a groan. He reaches up, eases the band out of my up-do and tosses it away, leaving my hair to tumble onto his bare chest. I get a few seconds to run my hands across his muscles, loving their tautness, before he issues the next order.

  ‘Get these shorts off me.’

  Quickly, I raise myself onto my knees and pull at his shorts, realising that he’s gone commando today. His cock springs free: hard and ready to go. I draw the shorts down over his feet, discarding them on the sand with the rest of our clothes. Holding out an arm, he motions for me to return to my previous position, and I shuffle back into place, straddling him again. Only this time, skin on skin, I get the full effect of his erection.

  ‘Are you wet?’ he asks.

  ‘I believe so.’

  He smiles mischievously. ‘What am I going to do with you, Miss Scotton?’

  Without waiting for the obvious answer, he clasps one hand around my upper arm, urging me upwards, while he guides himself into me with the other.

  ‘Slowly,’ he warns me.

  Resting my hands on the sunbed, I begin to work, up and down, as slowly as I can, but it isn’t easy. Almost as soon as I begin, ripples of warmth flood through my abdomen, causing the walls of my vagina to quiver.

  ‘God, Maya. I fucking love you.’

  ‘And I fucking love you too.’

  He lets go of my arm, clamps a palm around my buttocks and begins to thrust. Steadying himself against the sunbed with his free hand, he matches my action with his own and before long, we fall into a perfect, steady rhythm.

  ‘I’m not going to last long,’ I warn him, only too aware of the growing tension inside.

  ‘And you think I am?’

  He switches up the tempo, punching into me with quick, deep movements that hit the back of my vagina, and even though I’m the one on top, I know he’s gradually taking over. With a dishevelled heart rate and a rampaging pulse, I struggle to suck in a decent breath. I’m pretty sure that I’m about to pass out when a fizzling sensation erupts deep inside. The grip tightens on my buttocks. I watch as his pupils dilate and his lips part. Overcome by the moment, he takes a handful of my hair, tugging me in for a ferocious kiss. He jolts and thrusts, one final time, groaning into my mouth as we come together.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he gasps, still twitching inside. ‘Paradise just got better.’

  Exhausted and contented beyond belief, I crumble into his arms, conscious of the fact that bodily fluids are already beginning to obey the laws of gravity. If we’re not careful, we’re going to ruin one hell of an expensive sunbed. I’d get up and avoid the impending mess, but I can’t move. An arm is locked around my back.

  ‘I’m going to bring you back here every summer and fuck you on this thing,’ he breathes into my ear.

  ‘This one? Not the other one?’

  With a laugh, he releases me.

  ‘Definitely this one.’ He smiles lazily. ‘I’ll make a notch on it.’

  ‘I’m hot.’ I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes.

  ‘Then it’s time for that swim.’

  Gently prompting me to move, he sits up. I struggle to my feet, face the ocean … and stall. It’s calm, inviting, glorious, but I can’t remember the last time I swam in the sea. And anyway, every single time I’ve ever taken a dip in salt water, it’s always been in England. Here, I simply have no idea what’s lurking in the depths.

  I feel an arm around my waist.

  ‘Tell me you can swim.’

  ‘Yes.’ I bristle. Really? Does he think I’m that hopeless? ‘But aren’t there sharks?’

  I look up to find amusement in his eyes.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I can’t ...’

  He raises a hand, halting me in my tracks.

  ‘Bermuda’s surrounded by a reef. The sharks hardly ever come in. There’s never been a shark fatality here. You’re perfectly safe.’

  ‘You could have just told me there weren’t any.’

  ‘And lie to you?’ He clasps my hand. ‘Come on. Remember what Bill said. You need to face your fears head on.’

  He leads me into the water, one step at a time, keeping hold of my hand, smiling in reassurance. It deepens quickly and before long I’m up to my waist, surprised at how warm the water is, how quickly I get used to it. But still …

  ‘I could be the first fatality,’ I splurt.

  ‘Relax. Sperm’s a natural shark repellent.’

  ‘Is it?’

  He laughs, urging me further. When I’m up to my breasts, I look back at the deserted shore, hardly aware that his hand has left mine. Jesus, we could both be eaten now and nobody would know about it for hours. I hear a splash, turn quickly and find him treading water.

  ‘Come on, Maya.’ He grins. ‘You might as well.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I nod frantically.

  And that’s when it happens. In an act of pure lunacy, my brain flicks a switch and hurls me into reckless mode. Almost panicking, but not quite, I take the plunge, swimming off towards the entrance to the cove.

  ‘Sod the sharks,’ I shout. ‘Bollocks to the sharks! They’re not eating me.’

  I swim on, hearing the smash of water by my side as Dan overtakes me, showing off with a front crawl. There’s no way I can match that. Instead, I decide to carry on with my lady-like breaststroke, watching as he finally realises that he’s left me behind and comes to a halt, treading water until I catch up.

  ‘Further?’ he asks.

  ‘Out there?’

  I squint and gulp, accidentally swallowing a mouthful of salty water.

  ‘It’s perfectly safe. I’ve swum to it before.’

  ‘Okay.’ My heart beat jitters, but I’m determined to meet the challenge. ‘Let’s do it.’

  He stays by my side now, sometimes on his back, sometimes slipping into a sedate breast stroke, watching me constantly and smiling his encouragement as we swim. It doesn’t take long to reach the island and when we get there, I’m amazed to find that someone has gone to the tro
uble of fashioning concrete steps into the water.

  ‘Why are there steps?’ I ask. ‘There’s nothing here but rocks and trees.’

  ‘Bill had it done.’ He hauls himself up onto the bottom step, still waist-deep in the water. ‘For me and Louis. We used to come out here and pretend we were explorers.’

  With a smile, I pull myself onto the step, settling in between his legs. He curves an arm around me, under the water, and rests his chin on my shoulder. For a minute or so, we remain silent, gazing back at the shoreline, and right here, right now, it feels as if there’s no one else in the world.

  ‘Listen to that,’ he whispers at last.

  ‘I can’t hear anything.’

  ‘Precisely. Peace and quiet. Nobody bothering us. How much better can life get?’

  ‘It can’t get any better.’

  ‘It can,’ he whispers, leaving a good pause before his next words. ‘Marry me.’

  I turn to look at him. He touches a palm against my cheek, his eyes soft, waiting for an answer. And I’m so close to giving him what he wants. But I can’t. Not yet.

  ‘Still too fast,’ I inform him.

  ‘Bugger.’ He smiles. ‘I thought I’d have you this time.’

  ‘Patience.’

  He grimaces at the word. ‘Just for the record, should I try every day, or every other day? It’s just that I’m not too sure.’

  ‘About once a week.’

  His eyebrows curve upwards. ‘Fair enough. Well, this is Saturday, so every weekend. Is that okay?’

  I nod, nonchalantly. His smile widens.

  ‘We should go. We’re going to fry in this sun. Are you ready to swim back yet?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Not scared?’

  ‘A little,’ I admit. After all, what’s the point in trying to deny it? ‘But what the hell?’ I slide away from him, back into the water. ‘It’s day for facing fears.’

  A shower, a quick session in the bedroom and a light lunch lead us neatly through to the afternoon. With a few hours to kill before dinner, Dan announces that we’re going out to explore and before long I find myself in the passenger seat of Bill’s BMW, skirting along a coast road and ignoring the scenery. I’m far too distracted by the sight of the man at my side. Wearing a pair of Ray Bans that Kathy bought in town, and back in his shorts and T-shirt, he could easily pass for a movie star. Nobody would ever guess he spends his days discussing the ins and outs of multi-storey car parks and shopping malls.

  ‘We need to go back to the house,’ I announce, fiddling with my own pair of sunglasses and slipping them on. ‘I want more sex and I want it now.’

  He smiles.

  ‘My nymphomaniac girlfriend is going to have to wait. I’m taking you somewhere.’

  ‘Where?’ I lean my head back against a leather rest, enjoying the cool rush of the air-conditioning.

  ‘Surprise.’

  Flicking the indicator, he flashes me a quick grin, and we head away from the coast, pressing inwards now, passing the occasional field or a smattering of pastel coloured bungalows, all topped with the same white roofs. At last, we leave the main road behind and begin to trundle along a track. Up ahead, perched at the top of a hill, I can see a white lighthouse … and we seem to be aiming straight for it.

  As we come to a halt in the car park, my pulse begins to splutter.

  ‘A lighthouse?’ I falter.

  He nods. ‘Gibb’s Lighthouse.’

  ‘You’re not … We’re not going up it?’

  He nods again. ‘It’s a day for facing fears. You said so yourself.’ Placing a palm on my thigh, he leans in towards me. ‘Flying. Swimming in the sea. You’re on a roll.’

  I take another peek. My lungs threaten to explode out of my ribcage.

  ‘And I’ll be with you every step of the way.’

  ‘Seriously, I can’t do this.’

  ‘Wrong. You can do anything.’

  Unbuckling my seatbelt and then his own, he’s out of the car before I can complain any more. Coming quickly round to my side, he opens the door and encourages me out into the heat.

  The lighthouse rises above me like a huge white Dalek, and I stare up at it, reminding myself that if I can manage to stay sane on a Lear jet, then I can definitely drag my sorry backside to the top of this thing. It’s entirely my choice whether I take those steps or not, but if I am going to do it, then there’s definitely going to be some sort of payback.

  ‘Okay,’ I murmur at last. ‘I’ll do it … on one condition. You’ve got to give me something in return. You face your own fears.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Take a guess.’

  ‘Sisters,’ he mutters.

  I watch silently as he chews at his lip, glances up at the lighthouse, then back to me. My sudden attack of bravery seems to be catching because he holds out a hand, and I interpret it the only way I can. I’ve thrown down another gauntlet, and I can only suppose he’s picking it up.

  ‘One hundred and eighty-five steps,’ he says quietly. ‘Then we come out onto the observation deck. You get a full three hundred and sixty-degree view of the island. It’s worth it.’

  ‘Fine.’ I hold out my own hand in return. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Without letting go of me, he pays for our tickets and leads me inside.

  And so … we begin to climb.

  Taking one step at a time and ignoring the porthole windows, I tell myself that I’m absolutely fine. I’m really not bothered at all. And why would I be? The top floor of Fosters is higher than this. It’s just that I’ve never been on the outside. As we come to each landing, we take a rest, allowing me to get my breath back while Dan gently strokes my arm. Finally, we arrive at the eighth landing. No more steps. No more rests. This is it.

  I face an open doorway.

  ‘Why don’t you close your eyes for a start?’ He places a hand on my back. ‘I can hold you, then get you into position.’

  ‘Okay.’

  As my breathing grows increasingly shallow, I lower my lids and immediately, his arms are around me, manoeuvring me slowly through the doorway from behind. I know I’m outside now. I can feel the sun on my face.

  ‘Keep them closed,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘I’m just moving you a little further. Trust me.’

  I’m gently urged on and then I come to a halt. With his arms clasped around my stomach, he pulls me back against his chest. His chin comes to rest on my shoulder.

  ‘Maya?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are your eyes still closed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve got you. You’re not going to come to any harm. It’s perfectly safe up here. Understand?’

  I nod.

  ‘There’s a railing in front of you. The body of the lighthouse is behind you. I’m here and I’m not letting go. Open your eyes when you’re ready.’

  For a few seconds more, I cower in the darkness. And then I make the move. At first, I see nothing but my own eyelashes and through them, the glare of the sun.

  ‘Breathe slowly.’ His arms tighten around my midriff. ‘Deeply. I’ve got you.’

  I do as I’m told, raising my lids a little further. Slowly, my eyes begin to focus. Another breath and I can see it all: the island laid out below me, virtually flat, with only the hint of a hill in places. From up here, we can see right down to the far end.

  ‘What do you think?

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  And it is.

  To the right, the coast curves around on itself, neatly defined. To the left, it’s a ramshackle collection of outcrops, islands and inlets. Everywhere I look, I see the same white roofs – a sprinkling here, a thicker collection there – scattered in amongst patches of grassland and the deep green of tree foliage. I raise my eyes to the dark strip of the horizon. Above it all, the sky’s a cobalt blue today, touched by feathers of cloud.

  ‘Feeling okay?’

  I swallow, looking down at the lawn below us and the sharp features of c
edar trees beyond.

  ‘I might fall.’

  ‘No way. I’ve got you.’ He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘About twenty miles long and two miles wide. Over six hundred miles away from the nearest land mass.’

  What’s he trying to do now? Distract me from my fear with a few choice facts?

  ‘We’re in the middle of nowhere,’ I comment, going along with it.

  ‘Pretty much … And we’re on top of a volcano.’

  Now, I’m not entirely sure he should have added that bit. As my body stiffens, I hear him chuckle.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s extinct.’ He points straight ahead. ‘To the right, that’s the South Shore.’ He pauses, suddenly noticing a tiny but distinctly important fact: I’m not breathing. ‘Take a breath, Maya.’

  One consciously drawn breath follows another until my lungs finally seem to remember what they’re supposed to do. Leaving the matter of breathing behind, I’m aware that my legs have turned to jelly. If Dan wasn’t holding me up, I’d be flat on the floor by now.

  ‘Nice and slow,’ he whispers. ‘Keep it going. You’re doing brilliantly.’

  ‘I’m shitting myself.’ I glance down at my hands. They’re shaking.

  ‘I should hope not. Enough?’

  ‘No.’ I may be malfunctioning in just about every possible way, but I’m not ready to give up on being brave, not just yet. I can hear the pride in every word he speaks, and I want more.

  ‘Okay,’ he goes on. ‘Hamilton to the left. The North Shore. That’s where we’re staying. Spanish Point.’ He raises a hand, motioning vaguely. ‘No sharks.’

  I hear myself laugh. And then the laugh fades. We stand in silence for a few minutes, taking in the view. My heartbeat slows, my breathing settles back into a normal rhythm and all the time his arms remain clamped around me, keeping me safe.

  ‘Take me to the other side,’ I say at last.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ I squeeze his forearm. ‘Before I chicken out.’

  Slowly, he guides me to the other side of the lighthouse.

  ‘Docklands.’ He points. ‘Right at the end. There’s not so much to see on this side.’

  I gaze at the ocean, the smattering of islands, and realise that I’ve lived with fear for too long. Chained up by its constrictions, it’s kept so much hidden from me. But now those chains are slipping away.