by Kira Blakely
Chapter 14
Brayden
I took my time getting down the stairs. My knees were actually a little weak – not from the concern of what I’d find downstairs, but from the realization that I’d just made love to the woman I’d wanted my entire life. Our joining was just like that storm; unexpected and filled with power.
I shined the flashlight enough to see a clear path and headed for the utility room behind the kitchen. I couldn’t understand why the generator hadn’t automatically kicked in, but found my answer as I rounded the doorway of the utility room and saw the trunk of a giant palm lying on the generator and then penetrating the wall. Further searching revealed that yet another palm had taken out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, its rain-drenched fronds splayed over the back of the sofa. There was nothing to be done for it, certainly not in the darkness and without a chainsaw or sheets of plywood to hold out the elements. I decided to let the gods settle down before man’s work began.
Picking my way through the debris, I went back up to Harper.
“A couple of palms, one through the wall and one through a plate glass window. One took out the generator so looks like we’ll be dark until daylight. It sounds like it’s calming down, so we should just get some sleep.”
“Where did it come from, Bray? It was perfectly nice one minute and then only minutes later and all hell had broken loose. I’ve never seen a storm come that fast.”
“I know. But, remember, they come from the west and we were facing east on the patio. We were also having a bit of a heated discussion and it sneaked up on us. Are you okay?”
She snickered. “Okay? I feel wonderful.”
“Yes, you did,” I teased her. “Okay, I think we’ll be fine up here. Slide over here and let’s get some sleep.” I dropped my clothes and slid into the covers. She obliged without arguing, for once, and I knew we’d reached a turning point. She laid her head on my shoulder and her fingers traced what she could see of my tat in the remaining flashes of lightning as the storm retreated.
“I never knew you had this,” she whispered as her fingers on my skin were making me hard again.
“Got it when Cory died. My way of remembering him. He used to tell me all the old Irish folk tales and wolves were always involved—at least in his.”
“I’m seeing a side of Brayden I never knew existed.”
“And I felt the inside of Harper I hoped I might experience someday, and I don’t mean this,” I said, cupping my hand over her damp, swollen pussy. “I think I finally tapped into that place where you go to hide, honey. And now that I’ve been there, I’m not going away, so get used to it, okay?”
She snuggled closer, and I felt her head nod on my shoulder. “Promise?”
I was shocked at the voice of the little girl who asked the unnecessary question. Oh, I’d found her hiding place, all right. It belonged to me now, and I’d make sure no one ever hurt her again. “I swear,” I whispered and kissed the tangled mass of curls that fell like waves of silk down her smooth, voluptuous body. Damn! I’m a lucky man!
* * *
Nature had a way of mocking us and the blue skies and placid waves the next morning were proof of that. I surveyed Vermilion Key as best as I could from my vantage at the bedroom window. In addition to the customary palm fronds that dotted the beach, I could see the boathouse had a tree lying over it and there were any number of things in the pool; including furniture, limbs and debris that had washed up from the ocean. Mrs. Sims had been correct. It had been a bad storm.
Then I turned and looked at Harper, who was still sleeping next to the indent my body had left in the blankets. She looked like a small, fragile child and I felt the urge to scoop her up and tell her everything would be okay because I would see to it. I knew she’d experienced more than one storm the previous night—I could feel it in her body as she responded to my touch.
An odd feeling came over me then. All the years since I’d known her, she had been the goal; the thing I couldn’t have and therefore wanted more than anything. I’d met women in the past who had become goals, but only for the space of an evening. Once acquired, they lost their value and I was on to the next challenge.
This time it was different. Harper felt more like I’d been on a long, restless trip where nothing and no one could quite fill in the missing pieces. She was my missing piece. Harper had felt like finally getting home. I had no urge to leave. If anything, I wanted to plant roots so deep that no one and nothing could ever pull me free again. I never wanted to enter that drifting space again. It had become almost a phobic reaction.
I grabbed my cell and went downstairs so I wouldn’t disturb Harper. There was a lot of broken glass downstairs, and she’d probably be better off just sleeping in until I could get things back in shape.
I called Meghan’s cell. “Hello?” she answered, her normal and bouncy self.
“Hi, sweetie. Everything okay there?”
“Oh, heck, yeah. It was a big to do about nothing, but I learned how to make potato pancakes from Mrs. Sims’ sister. They’re really cool, Uncle Brayden. You top them with all kinds of things, kind of like a blintz. Mine were perfect… naturally,” she boasted, and I could imagine her teasing face.
“Well, good. Take your time coming back, will you? Tell Mrs. Sims that we’ve had some damage here, lots of things broken and no power. If you don’t want to stay at her sister’s, then ask her to move to a hotel. Just keep in touch. My phone charge won’t last forever, but I need to stick around and supervise. I’ll have some spare charged batteries brought over until the power is restored.”
“Sure thing, Uncle Brayden. Don’t worry about us. I’m having the time of my life. There are some cool girls living next door and I’ve been invited to watch horror movies with them tonight, but I thought I’d be gone. I’m going to run over and say that I can come after all. Love ya!”
She disconnected and I was struck by her happiness in having girls her own age to spend time with. It wasn’t fair to her to hold her captive on Vermilion Key. She deserved to have a whole life.
I checked in with the resort and learned their damage was minimal and had already been dealt with. I asked them to send staff to take care of the damage at Vermilion Key. “Bring me a half dozen charged batteries that will work with my phone and have the kitchens prepare two days’ worth of meals. No power here, so we can’t refrigerate. I can build a fire in the barbecue, though, so tell Chef to package in foil. More importantly, get someone out here immediately to fix the power.”
I gave them a few more sundry instructions and then signed off, wanting to conserve my phone battery. Picking my way through shards of glass, I opened the refrigerator to retrieve something we might eat in the meantime. It was still cold inside, but this would be the last time I’d trust it. I’d have it restocked when my crew arrived.
I grabbed some fruit from the Moroccan bowl on the counter and a bottle of champagne. No power, no pump for the water.
Balancing my armload, I took the steps as quietly as possible. Harper was still asleep, her back to me. I climbed back into the bed, arranged the food as attractively as I could and blew in her ear. After all, this was our first morning after and I wanted it nice for her. “How about a little nourishment?” I whispered, leaning over her to kiss her cheek.
Harper came up like she’d been bitten. She had a look of almost terror on her face and something akin to anger as she looked at me. She was still half asleep as far as I could tell so I waited for her to wake up. “You would think you’d let me recover a minute – for God’s sake, Bray!”
I jerked back in surprise. “What the hell? Harper, wake up! Recover? What are you talking about?”
She looked at me then and seemed puzzled, if not even surprised. Her hand shot into the blankets between us as if she was searching for something. Her lips parted with a look of victory as her arm shot up into the air. She was holding a banana I’d brought up. “Oh.”
“What?”
She look
ed away quickly. “Nothing.”
“No way. You can’t have a reaction like that and not explain yourself. What’s wrong?”
She let her hair fall forward to cover most of her face and then looked at me sidelong, flushed and obviously embarrassed. “I thought… I thought that thing sticking into my bottom was… you.”
“Me?” Then I realized what she was talking about. “No, sweetheart, I may be hard but I don’t require peeling, not to mention I sure hope you’d react a little better if it had been me!”
We both burst into giggles, and she threw a pillow at my groin.
“Hey! I brought up food, and you’re going to smash it!”
She picked up the banana and turned to face me. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and lifted the banana to her mouth, licking the tip. With red-tipped nails, she turned the fruit slowly, running her fingertip over it as if looking for that sensitive spot that would make it burst open on its own.
Something molten shot into my groin, and I was finding it difficult to sit still. With the tip of her finger, she first stroked the fruit and then formed a circle with her index finger and thumb, forming a collar. She slowly pumped the banana through the finger collar and as it came to her mouth, she used her teeth to nip at it, easing the peel downward in sections. Soon there was nothing left but the raw fruit and this she held high overhead and then opened her mouth like a sword-swallower and eased the banana into its depths.
Like a fourteen-year-old in the shower, I spilled my seed, then and there. I wanted that mouth on me, but the illusion was almost stronger than the reality. I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes, psychosomatically feeling her lips and mouth on me. I watched from behind barely-opened eyelids and this added a distorted haze that took me into her, if only in my mind. When she licked the flesh of the fruit, her tongue was stroking me. I’d never experienced anything so erotic in my life and I knew subconsciously I never would again, unless it was Harper with me.
She laughed, a wicked sound. Breaking my spell, she reached over and tickled me, chomping the banana quickly until it was gone. “Never underestimate me, Bray. You’ll live to regret it.”
I didn’t doubt her one bit.
I reached to touch her, wanting to pleasure her, but she pulled away. “No,” she said in a tone of finality.
“Why? Turnabout is fair play,” I pleaded, knowing I would get just as much pleasure from it as she would.
“I’m not like you,” she said.
I sat up. “What do you mean ‘not like me?’”
She made an exasperated sound. “You’re more experienced, you know things. I– I’ve not been with people like you have.”
“Baby, you don’t need to worry. I’m glad you’re the way you are. I want to show you things.”
“Like what? Kinky things?”
“No, well, not at first, at least.”
She didn’t like that response and was off the bed in a flash and headed into the bathroom. I decided to let it go for the moment. I could hear the sounds of boat motors and knew my crews were on their way. I got up and tapped on the door. “I’ve got clean-up crews coming, so don’t come downstairs naked or anything,” I warned her.
I heard something hit the door. I hoped she’d hadn’t thrown the antique vase that sat on the edge of the tub. Shrugging, I laughed and headed downstairs to meet the boats.
Chapter 15
Harper
I watched from the window as long as I could, but eventually, the cleaners had come upstairs and there was no way around it. I had to go outside, so I headed for the guest cottage where I was staying. I hoped no one had noticed. What is wrong with me? I had this crazy feeling I was supposed to be kept under wraps. I felt like a kept woman who wasn’t good enough for the boss to marry, but he’d sleep with her because she was a conquest from the old days he’d finally managed to bed.
Why did I think like that? I knew it was in my head, but it felt more like it was in my veins; a component of my blood making me Type A or B, except that I was a Type S, for slut. I knew one thing for sure—it made me feel like crap.
Other than being without power, the cottage was for the most part exactly as I’d left it. There was some dirt on the window exterior, but one of Brayden’s people had that soon removed. I’d pulled out some garbage bags and was emptying the contents of the refrigerator into them when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a pleasant young woman in a pale blue work jumper. Like a fly on honey, she was in my refrigerator, dumping the contents. She washed it thoroughly and, as she left with the bags, she flipped the switch for the ceiling fan over the table. “That way you’ll know when the power is back,” she explained and gave me a pseudo salute as she closed the door behind her.
I went into my bedroom and looked at the array of brightly-colored clothing strewn across my bed. My original plan had been to bring Brayden in and show him what I’d bought. Things had gone another direction, though, so I busied myself hanging up my new things in the closet. I knew, without a doubt, I’d only had to open the door and waggle a finger and someone would have been in my room doing it for me. It seemed that Brayden had the whole world conditioned to respond to a waggled finger. Even me.
I hated myself in this mood. It was like some kind of dark cloud of depression. I seemed determined to see the worst in everything. There I was, in paradise, and I could still find fault. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be around me in this mood.
I heard a subtle noise and walked into the next room to see the fan blade circling. The power had come back on. I looked out and saw that this had only heightened the activity outdoors. Like a murder of crows descending on carrion, the disruption disappeared and the entire island was left looking untouched. Another knock at my door brought in the same young woman, except this time she was trailed by several young men with boxes. She opened my refrigerator, restocked it in almost the exact way I’d left it, tapped the brim of her hat and left. Was I living in a movie?
I securely locked my door and headed into my shower. I didn’t want to emerge to find someone vacuuming my floor as I stood by naked and waited for them to finish. My vanity was covered with colors and powders Meghan and I had purchased at the cosmetic counters. I played a bit with the concoction, at least until my hair had dried into its normal confusion of ringlets.
I pulled a one-piece shorts jumper from the closet and layered it over a lilac blue t-shirt. It seemed like a good idea to wear shoes, so I threw on some multi-colored thongs and headed out.
I found Brayden central to the activity. There were men on the roof of the boathouse, hammers wildly beating a progressing rhythm. A coconut palm was lying nearby, neatly chopped into small, manageable chunks that I knew would soon disappear. Even its coconut fruit was piled liked so many cannonballs ready to be fired at the enemy. In Brayden’s case, disorder was his enemy.
He saw me, smiled and came over, lifting me off my feet in a giant bear hug topped with a kiss. “Power’s back on,” he said, setting me down.
“Yes, your little gal who cleaned my refrigerator left the fan on to cue me.”
“I do like efficiency,” he mused as he watched the men on the boathouse.
“Apparently,” I commented dryly and he gave me a startled look.
“Did they disrupt you somehow?” I knew he was being sincere and stored my mockery away in that lonely dark place of my brain where I go when I’m feeling out of place.
I shook my head. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Nope. Just find somewhere to perch and if you see something that needs fixing or clean-up, let one of my people know.”
His people? What is he, like a king or something? What the hell is the matter with me? I’m acting like a royal bitch and this isn’t me, at all.
“Have you talked to Meghan?” I asked, although I already knew his answer. He was a watchful wolf, if nothing else.
“She’s fine and no damage there. Told me she’s met some girls next door and they’re goin
g to watch horror movies tonight. I think she’s lonely, Harper. What do you think?”
“Of course, she is. She’s been stuck out here with her uncle and an old lady who has a highly superstitious mind. She’s at that age when friends are everything. I should know. I was that age once.”
He looked down at me. “Indeed, you were. I seem to remember. And you are just as ripe and luscious now as you were back then. If these people weren’t here… well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.” He smiled and gave me a pat on the butt to push me toward the lounge chairs around the pool.
That’s when I knew what was wrong. I hadn’t been able to put a finger on it until that very moment. He was being too nice and too own-ery. Everything in sight, including me now, belonged to him. He liked control, liked knowing the numbers in each column. I was that last piece he couldn’t have, but now that had been resolved. I was owned!
I hated that feeling! It made me think of my father and how he’d taken it for granted that my mother would never leave him, never desert him. She had paid for the pleasure in his life by donating her own. I’d sworn no man would ever treat me like that and there I was, in the guest house with my license and registration in his glove box. He owned me.
I threw myself onto a lounge chair and crossed my arms over my chest in disgust at myself. That’s when I stopped and looked around. I was being a pain, a real brat. No better than Dougie when he threw a fit. Brayden had worked hard for what he had. He was providing good jobs for a great many people and he had asked nothing of me. I’d given it, freely. In fact, I’d practically put a bow on it and served myself on a platter. How could I fault him for that?
I couldn’t and I knew better. I was embarrassed and looked around to see who might have witnessed my little hissy fit. No one paid attention to me and that was when I had my aha moment.
No one was watching. No one cared. Why not? Because the wealthier you are, the more invisible you become. You can afford to pay people to look the other way. It was sort of like having your gyno exam and knowing that the doctor was not putting moves on you. He looked at pussies all day long! I was nothing more than another pussy!
