Unseen Messages

by Pepper Winters

His gaze shot bullets into my mind.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  My lips tingled in invitation and surrender. “I feared you’d never ask.”

  His height towered over me, but his neck bent with grace and purpose, bringing his mouth to mine.

  Every cell relocated in my lips, transforming into mirrors and prisms, desperate for his reflection.

  He paused one final time. “I won’t be able to stop.”

  “I don’t want you to stop. Not this time.”

  A moan caught in the back of my throat as my breasts pressed against his chest. The tatty grey t-shirt he wore was sun-faded and wave-ruined, but he’d never looked more handsome. Everything—from his overgrown sorrel hair to his soft beard and stark cheekbones.

  I’d never been so attracted to anyone.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

  “So are you...”

  He kissed me.

  His lips were softer than rabbit fur, softer than satin pillows. Kissing Galloway was like snipping the anchors holding me on earth and floating in utter sweetness.

  But then his hands came up and captured my cheeks. His feet came forward and imprisoned my body. And his lips lost their soft sweetness, turning into something entirely lost.

  “G—” I panted as his kiss became stronger, faster, wilder. The taste of desperation laced our senses while our tongues tried to memorize every slippery sensation.

  The explosion of liquorice and musky passion drugged me until my fingers scrambled at his clothing, dying to touch his flaming skin and put an end to my self-inflicted misery.

  I moaned as he clutched me harder.

  I cried out as his teeth replaced his lips, nipping their way from my mouth to my throat.

  My back arched, my body swayed, giving up all control. I didn’t want to fight. Not anymore.

  But then, we were moving.

  Galloway’s fingers tugged my bikini top, freeing the black triangles, pulling the useless apparel away from my sex-swollen body.

  His mouth tore away from my neck, his eyes transformed into blue-silver beacons matching the sunrise for spectacular beauty.

  I followed his lead, gasping as the warm tide washed away the sand on my feet, quickly licking up my calves.

  I shivered as Galloway bent his knees and took my nipple into his mouth. My hands flew up, fingers threading like music notes into his hair, holding his face close.

  His teeth nipped, my body turned liquid, matching the waves with moisture. And something happened, something that had never happened before.

  I lost sense of time, of space, of right and wrong.

  I forgot about Conner and Pippa and the crash and the island and the fact I might never see my home again.

  All I knew, all I cared about, was the trembling, aching man in my arms and the magical ability our bodies had to delete everything with pleasure.

  Letting me go, Galloway tore off his t-shirt and yanked at the Velcro holding his board-shorts. He was nothing but heat and crazy and yearning. But beneath his molten smoulder, he looked at me as if I’d broken yet another piece of him. I’d shattered whatever walls he’d erected and stood in the rubble of his mind. He looked broken but also cured.

  I fell and fell.

  I fell from disaster and found salvation in his hold.

  His erection sprung free as he kicked his board-shorts to languish on the tide’s surface. He was past caring for the safety of his limited wardrobe. “Come here.” His arm snaked out, lassoing me to his body as his fingers unthreaded the black bows on my hips.

  The final piece of my bikini came away, and we stood before each other, painted with russets and apricots of the new sun.

  I licked my lips as he hoisted me up. Instinctually, my legs wrapped around his hips, pressing myself against the hardness I desperately wanted.

  The thought of condoms and contraception flickered and snuffed out. If we did this, we wouldn’t do it with prior conversation of past lovers or health history. We did this out of trust and agreement that we came together bare—both body and soul.

  His muscles bunched where he held me, his face tortured with patience and want.

  This wasn’t the time for long sensory overloads. This was the time to feed our ravenous hunger and give in.

  Holding his gaze, I reached between us and grabbed his cock.

  He jerked, biting his lip.

  Our eyes screamed everything we couldn’t say as I silently arched in his hold and positioned him at my entrance.

  His jaw sewed tight as I achingly slowly slid onto him. My legs spasmed around his hips, my vision spluttered to greys and shadows as the blissful joy echoed from my core.

  I’d never felt so in control and so controlled in all my life. Never felt so full and empty.

  When I’d taken as much as his length as I could, I paused.

  But he didn’t let me stop.

  His large hand landed on my hipbone, gently pushing me the final inch, pressing past pleasurable pain, inserting more than just his body but his heart into my chest, too.

  We stood quaking with the tide lapping around us, our breathing the same torn rattle.

  As much as I didn’t want to break the mood, I had to give one tiny instruction. I’d accepted that I was wrong to stay away from him. But I wasn’t wrong about my fears. Pregnancy could never happen. We could find happiness together, but that was where our coupling had to end.

  Holding him close, I whispered in his ear. “Love me, take me, I’m yours. But don’t come in me.”

  His body jolted; his eyes searched mine. Understanding followed swiftly and his cock twitched inside.

  We groaned together, and he surprised me by pressing his forehead to mine and thrusting up. “I promise.”

  My heart shed its final prison, becoming a crazed winged creature desperate for him. Knowing he would help me prevent a future of dreadful uncertainty allowed me to fully relax since we’d met at the airport in Los Angeles.

  Because even then, I’d known. I’d felt his soul casting its lure to tempt mine. I felt the barbed hooks making their way slowly into my psyche, webbing our lives together, whether we wanted them to or not.

  Stumbling forward, Galloway slammed to his knees in the water. A pained grimace showed the action wasn’t planned but part of the weakness of his ill-healed ankle.

  Water splashed, filling our mouths with salt.

  But it didn’t stop or dislodge us.

  Hauling me onto the wave-lapped shore, Galloway lay me down, baptising me in seawater as his hands clutched the beach on either side of my head and thrust up.

  Everything dissolved.

  My legs opened.

  My fingers clutched.

  And my body beckoned him deeper.

  “Christ, Estelle.” His mouth found mine and together we rode, splashed, and claimed, rocking to the same despairing rhythm, our tongues mimicking our bodies, our mutual want ensuring our rise to the pinnacle flew rather than swam.

  Thrust after thrust, I spooled tighter into a galaxy waiting to supernova.

  Thrust after thrust, my fear about him coming tainted my pleasure.

  And when a growling groan spilled from his lips and his back turned to stone and his features set in quartz, I panicked.

  “Stop!”

  He didn’t.

  His lips claimed mine again, orchestrating my body to ignore repercussions and only live in the moment. To come with him. Because he was seconds from coming undone.

  “No!” I screamed, my heels kicking his back.

  His hips stopped pistoning, his eyes round with fear. “What? I won’t hurt you. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” Rage replaced the stunned terror. “You said you believed me!”

  My breathing turned wet with swallowed tears. “I promised? You promised. You said you wouldn’t come inside me.”

  His eyebrows shot into his dark hairline. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.”

  “You were about to.”

  Babies and pregna
ncy and complications.

  My passion bubbled into panic.

  “I wouldn’t go back on a promise, Estelle. I was about to pull out.”

  I shoved his shoulders. “Well, pull out now. I can’t—I can’t do this.”

  Wrong thing to say.

  Heavy shoplifter-proof shutters clanged over his eyes. Without a word, he moved his hips, withdrawing the hard deliciousness from between my legs. Sitting on his knees, he scowled. “Happy?”

  Scrambling up, I hugged my knees, feeling ridiculously stupid and horribly naked. “No. I’m not happy. I know I just ruined it. But I’m sorry. I can’t...I can’t—”

  “I wasn’t going to come in you, Estelle. You told me not to. I would’ve obeyed.”

  I had nothing to say.

  I was stupid to jump the gun and ruin something so perfect.

  But it was ruined, and I didn’t have the strength to salvage it.

  Not today.

  Unfolding, I stood, fighting the urge to cover myself. “I’m sorry, Galloway.” Turning my back on him, I scooped my sodden bikini floating like a black stain on the water and purposely didn’t look back.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ...............................................

  G A L L O W A Y

  ......

  I RUINED IT.

  Just like I ruined every other good thing in my life.

  That night, I lay in bed agonising over how I could’ve prevented the awful ending after the best sexual experience of my life.

  Estelle was everything I wanted. It wasn’t just because she was the only woman on the island. It wasn’t just because I found her attractive and smart.

  She was my person.

  The one perfect creation just for me.

  And the knowledge that I’d upset her by doing something she didn’t want me to do.

  It bloody killed me.

  I’d tried to talk to her once I returned to camp. We had all day to clear the air and sort out how to fix what was broken. But Estelle threw herself into taking care of Pippa and Conner. She gathered firewood, stoppered containers full of fresh water, fried silver fish in coconut milk, and garnished the dish with fresh salad and toasted coconut shards.

  By the time the moon kicked the blazing sun from its throne, lack of sleep from the night before with turtle watching, and the stress of upsetting Estelle, I fell into a restless sleep on my side of the partition wall.

  All night she didn’t come to me. She didn’t crawl around the flax barrier or cuddle into my side.

  The next day was just as bad.

  Strained and unnatural smiles. Sugary words and polite conversation painted over the truth of what we needed to say.

  It was God-awful.

  The worst day of my damn life.

  But with the magic of hindsight, it wasn’t the worst.

  Not really.

  I’d thought the crash was bad. Being stranded. The fear of survival and never being found.

  Turned out, it could get worse.

  And it was coming for us.

  We just didn’t know it.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  ...............................................

  E S T E L L E

  ......

  Fortune favours the fortunate. Bad luck favours the deserving.

  The world has its favourites, just like every man, woman, and child has theirs. We have our favourite person, our favourite food, our favourite memory.

  And unfortunately, the universe has its favourites, too. And for those who don’t play by its rules, misfortune and bad luck reigns.

  I thought I was one of the favourites.

  Turns out, I was wrong.

  Taken from the notepad of E.E.

  ...

  BAD LUCK COMES in threes (or, at least, that was how the expression went). Our luck—what with crashing and being left to our own devices for four months—might be slightly skewed. However, it felt as if the universe didn’t like us very much with the week that followed after I slept with Galloway.

  First, there was Conner.

  The day after my disastrous tryst, Conner collected his fishing spear like every other day and went to spend the morning chasing breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  He’d become so proficient, I no longer worried about him swimming out of his depth or stabbing himself accidentally. The reef around our island protected us from crashing waves and the calm atoll was as safe as a chlorinated pool for a seasoned hunter.

  For a few hours, I weaved another blanket with Pippa to replace my first attempts and restocked our firewood. I smoked some more coconut shards on a flat rock in the fire, set a cauldron of water to boil for a clam salad lunch, and even managed to find ten minutes to scribble a phrase or two in my notebook while no one was looking.

  But then...

  Calamity happened.

  Turned out the reef wasn’t as safe as a pee-filled paddling pool. Not as secure as a pool with pretty mosaic tiles on the walls.

  A pool didn’t house enemies.

  Pippa saw him first.

  Dropping the thin vine she’d been decorating with fish skeletons, she squealed and charged down the beach to her limping, gasping brother.

  Oh, my God.

  Galloway, who’d returned from the crash site to salvage an extra piece of fuselage, threw the axe into the sand and took off after her. Limping/jogging, he only wore his board-shorts, ignoring screams from his own body to focus on the boy who’d become our son.

  Please...no...

  “Conner!” I charged after them.

  My feet flew in the soft sand, hurtling me to all fours just as Connor collapsed into Galloway’s arms.

  “I’ve got you.” Galloway lowered him to the beach, cushioning Conner’s back on his chest.

  My eyes zeroed in on Conner’s right leg as it splayed out. His normal brown skin was puckered and white with a wickedly red puncture on his instep.

  “No! Conner. No!” Pippa tried to grab him, but Galloway pushed her back. “Pip, don’t. Let me deal with it.”

  Conner moaned, smiling weakly at Pippa. “I’m okay, Pippi. Don’t—” Agony cut him off; he buried his face in Galloway’s chest. “Make it stop. God, make the pain stop.”

  I shook as if a magnitude ten earthquake replaced my heart. Grabbing Pippa, I stopped her clutching Conner and wiped at her tears. “Shush, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay!” Her wails lifted until the sound echoed off the palm trees. “Conner...please.” She cracked in half, turning in my arms and sobbing on my shoulder.

  I rubbed her back, doing my best to soothe her while terror tore at my soul.

  “What happened, mate?” Galloway cuddled Conner close, wiping away his sand-filled hair. “What’s up? Tell me what hurts.”

  Conner opened his mouth to speak, but he retched instead. Galloway repositioned him so he could vomit on the beach. He never stopped murmuring comforting things while Conner gave into the nausea and toxins coursing through his blood.

  Pippa’s tears turned into rivers; she squirmed from my arms and grabbed Conner’s hand. “Don’t go to sleep, Co. Please don’t go to sleep.”

  I wanted to calm her—she’d put herself into hiccupping shock soon—but my panic for Conner turned me ruthlessly focused.

  I nudged her away. “Pippa...I need to look at him, okay? I’m going to make sure he doesn’t go to sleep.”

  Don’t promise something you can’t deliver.

  My teeth clacked together.

  Pippa fought, but she didn’t match my strength. In the back of my mind, I hated myself for treating her so cruelly, but she was alive.

  Conner was dying.

  Shuffling closer, I met Galloway’s eyes. His cheekbones stood out starkly; his panic threading a dark blue through his turquoise eyes. He nodded as I cradled Conner’s foot, inspecting the wound.

  Gritty sand stuck to the blood trickling from his injury, but nothing looked as if it’d lodged inside. The tiny hole alr
eady wanted to close, clogging with debris. “Do you remember what happened?” I palpated his foot, wincing at his hot, hot flesh.

  I racked my brain for what could’ve done this.

  “I didn’t...see it.” Conner wheezed, holding his chest as if suffering an asthma attack. “I thought it was...a rock.”

  “Well, you’re okay now, Co. Take your time.” Galloway stared worriedly as Conner’s lips turned bluish. “Don’t try to talk too much, buddy. Just give us the basics.”

  Tears lived in my fingers, my toes, my heart but none dared torment my eyes. I remained dry-gazed and focused.

  Conner was ours. I wouldn’t let him die. I wouldn’t let anyone I loved die again.

  My parents...my sister. They’d been taken from me. Fate wouldn’t take my second chance at a family.

  We. Will. Not. Die. Here.

  My childhood warnings exploded to mind. Living in Australia, we were drilled about poisonous creatures, snakes, spiders, and jellyfish. We knew before we could walk how to wrap something tight around a bite and who to call for antidotes.

  After all, we lived in a country where ninety percent of the world’s deadliest animals resided.

  “Estelle...” Galloway’s voice wrenched my head up. “What—what could it be?”

  Conner went rigid in his arms, gasping for breath.

  Shit!

  He said a rock.

  Something he’d stepped on.

  Something spiny and poisonous and...

  Think!

  Numerous fish were venomous. Scorpionfish, dragonfish...but only one looked like a pebble.

  “A stonefish.”

  Galloway flinched. “Stonefish? Aren’t they...” He stopped himself, but the word hung in the air.

  Deadly.

  I swallowed hard. “Not if the dose was small enough. Not if it’s on an extremity and not on the chest or throat.” I did my best to sound knowledgeable and confident, but inside...inside, I was a little girl screaming for her parents to fix this.

  Pippa bawled harder. “Don’t die, Conner! Don’t. Don’t go to sleep.” Hurling herself onto Conner’s chest, Galloway stroked her hair while never letting go of her brother.

  The little boy looked sick and terrified, his eyes round and white skin shining with sweat.

  “What can we do?” Galloway glared at me. “Estelle...think, goddammit.”