"Sure you can. People rent out Disney all the time. Churches. Museums..."
"Not entire parks."
"Yes, entire parks," he corrected. "Us being living proof of that."
"But that's not fair to everyone who planned to come here today."
"Sure it is. I paid for them to be able to come here tomorrow with no charge. They were all happy to oblige. Or so I was told."
"But why would we need it to be empty?"
"You'll see," he told me, giving my leg one last squeeze before exiting his door, leaving me to slip back into my shoes and follow.
"What is this?" I asked, looking up and seeing nothing but rolling hills of greenery. Beautiful, lush greenery, but seemingly nothing else. No temples, no statues, just natural beauty.
"So many questions."
"Just one question, actually," I corrected, brow raising.
To that, he rolled his eyes, reaching for my hand, twining his fingers between mine, and pulling me along.
I was supposed to snatch my hand away.
I was making it too easy.
He wasn't going to fall for me if there wasn't some resistance.
I needed to pull away.
But his hand felt good in mine—strong, reassuring, companionable, like we were going on an adventure together.
Which, I guessed, we were.
So I left my hand right there, telling myself that I could find some resistance some other time, that I was just going to enjoy this moment.
From there, we took off on our own, not even stopping to greet the park ranger as we passed, Fenway just giving him a nod that was returned as the man promptly disappeared.
I didn't know how much this had cost Fenway—I didn't want to know—but I had to admit there was something about hiking through this park in complete silence that made the experience almost seem, I don't know, spiritual.
"Fenway?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Um, are we just... taking a hike? Or is there some sort of destination in mind?"
"You haven't figured it out yet?" he asked, raising his brows.
"Figured what out? What is there to figure out?"
To that, he pulled to a stop. "Listen," he demanded.
I was going to tell him I'd been doing nothing but listening when I did, in fact, hear it. I guess I had been listening to my own heavy breathing and internal monologue and not the sounds around us after all.
Because the moment he told me to hear it, I did.
"A waterfall," I declared, smiling.
"Very good," he told me, eyes bright.
"I love waterfalls," I told him. "I have to have at least a thousand pictures of my best friend and me at various waterfalls all across the United States."
"As lovely as all those must have been," he started, pulling me along again, this time with more enthusiasm, which meant I damn near had to jog to keep up. "I think this one will take the cake," he told me, suddenly dragging my body in front of his.
Then there it was.
He wasn't wrong.
It was the best one I'd ever seen.
Not because it was the biggest—it wasn't—but because there was something about its quiet seclusion, about the way it was technically three waterfalls in one, about the way it was surrounded with the greenest trees and moss I had ever seen.
"Wow," I whispered, shaking my head, going ahead and leaning back into Fenway when his arms went around my midsection.
"Right?" he asked, lips down by my ear.
"Wait, I'm not done," I told him when he pulled away, grabbed my hand, started to drag me with him.
"I promise, this will be even better," he told me, dragging me into a tree-lined path, but not one that was well worn like the rest of them. If anything, this didn't seem to be an on-the-map path at all, but merely one a select few people knew about.
And, of course, Fenway was one of those people.
The further we walked, the louder the crash of the waterfall got, until it was all that you could hear.
"This way," Fenway called, nearly yelling, yanking me to the side, then ducking under a squat tree.
Without another choice since he was still holding my hand captive, I followed, hair getting caught on branches as we squat-walked for a minute before we slipped through a hole in a rock formation, where we could finally stand up again, my burning thighs crying in gratitude.
The noise here was nearly deafening.
The spray from the water wet our faces as we got closer and closer to the wide opening to the side of the second waterfall.
"Okay, you're right," I declared, taking a deep breath, wanting to remember this sight, these smells, this one perfect moment.
There were many small, perfect moments in life.
I had pages of memories of them.
But this one felt different, bigger somehow.
Fenway moved in behind me once again, watching the cascading water from over my shoulder as his chin rested there, his arms wrapping me up once again.
Don't ask me why I did it.
I couldn't tell you. Not if I had a lifetime to analyze my motivations.
But my head turned, and my lips pressed to him.
Light.
Sweet.
I'd done a lot of kissing in my life. But it had always had a singular purpose, a lead up to something more.
This, though? This was not that. This was just connection, just intimacy, just taking the sensations that were overflowing out of me and trying to share them with him.
It was the purest, most innocent kiss of my life. I felt it down to my toes, up to the top of my scalp. A tingling that wasn't desire, but something deeper, something stronger, something I wasn't familiar enough with to have a name for.
My heart was beating hard in my chest, a kick-drum to my ribcage, as Fenway's hand rose, gently framing the side of my face, turning me to face him completely.
I didn't bother to fight the urge to wrap my arms around the back of his neck, to press my body tighter to his.
We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, lips soft, sweet, undemanding.
Eventually, though, the warmth that was spreading in my core made its way across my belly, over my chest, until every inch of me felt warm, felt the throbbing of desire.
My lips demanded more first, and Fenway's were eager to give me exactly what I wanted, his hand sifting into my hair, tugging a little, making my head arch backward, giving him better access.
My hands moved down his back, gathering the material of his tee, pulling upward.
Our lips broke apart long enough for him to toss it to the side, his hands sinking into my ass, the slinky sundress hardly any barrier at all. I could feel the heat of his palms as surely as I felt the hard length of him pressing into my hip.
When his lips broke from mine again, it was so he could lower down to his knees, his hands bunching up the material of my skirt, pulling it slowly upward, his lips kissing each exposed inch of skin, the sensation of it going not only straight to my core, but higher, seeping into my heart as well, a warm, fuzzy feeling I had no name for, but found both comforting and overwhelmingly terrifying somehow at the same time.
But then his tongue was tracing the outline of my panties, wiping away anything but the desire that was like a stabbing sensation inside, something hot and acutely painful.
His lips didn't move inward, though, but placed kisses across my hip, up my belly, between my breasts, up my throat, then pulling away completely to pull my dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but my barely-there panties, the cool water dampening my skin within seconds, sending a chill through me.
Fenway's hands settled into my hips, turning me, pulling my back against his chest once again, both of us facing the waterfall as his hands covered my breasts, teasing my tightened nipples into harder buds, not relenting until my ass was grinding back against his hardness, desperate for relief from the clawing need inside.
Only then did one of his hands slide up, gently clos
ing around my throat as the other slid down my belly, making a delicious path downward, under the waistband of my panties, then stroking up my cleft, finding my clit, circling it lazily, building the pressure.
Just when I thought I was at the breaking point, his fingers slid downward, slipping inside me, my muscles tightening hard, greedy for the sensation of fullness.
"Feel how much you want me?" he asked, his teeth nipping my earlobe.
And, God, yes, I did.
It was something almost bigger than myself, this need to have him inside me, something urgent, something that refused to be denied.
His fingers started to thrust lazily, hinting at what I needed, but refusing to give it to me, just wanting me whimpering, gasping for breath, fingernails digging crescents into the skin of his forearm.
"Fenway, please," I cried, hips rocking back against him.
A low, growling noise escaped him, his hand leaving my throat as his hips shifted back, his hand freeing himself.
I heard the crinkle of a condom foil, and with my head resting against his shoulder, I could see him raise it up, nip the edge.
Anticipation was a live-wire in my system as he reached between us, protected us, before his hands were on me again, one slipping between my legs, pressing against my clit as my legs parted slightly, my ass arching back and up, begging for an end to the torment.
Luckily, Fenway didn't seem to have much self-control left either, his cock sliding between my thighs, pressing against me for a moment before sliding inside, long and thick as I had expected, filling me completely.
There was one solid moment of nothing, just silent acknowledgment of this singularly perfect moment before the need for release overtook everything else.
Fenway's free hand gathered my hair, wrapping it around his fist, yanking it to the side, exposing my neck, his lips and teeth claiming the sensitive skin as he started to thrust.
Hard.
And deep.
But not fast.
Dragging it out.
The pressure built deep, working outward until it overtook me completely.
His cock buried deep.
His finger swiped.
And I simply shattered.
Shards of me flew in every direction, leaving nothing behind but a strangled cry, a wave of pleasure so acute it was almost painful.
A growl escaped Fenway as my walls squeezed him through the orgasm.
But he wasn't done with me.
He hadn't come with me.
I came back together, gasping for breath, body trembling, only to have Fenway pull out of me, turn me, and press me back against the cave wall, the moss cool and soft against my back as his hand reached downward, hooking my knee, dragging it up high before slamming inside me.
After an orgasm like that, I was sure I was done, that my body wouldn't be able to take anymore.
Apparently, I didn't know myself as well as I thought, because as Fenway started to thrust—harder, faster—I could feel the desire rekindled, the aching need for fulfillment renewed.
He drove me up fast, pushing me to the edge, then tossing me over, but this time, he fell with me, both of us crashing at the same time, bodies sinking into each other as we struggled to find breath, to find strength in our gelatinous limbs.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that before we finally broke away, Fenway stooping to retrieve his pants as I tried to talk my body into cooperating with any sort of movement.
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching as he produced a plastic baggy from his back pocket. Where the hell had he even found plastic baggies?
"I hate to be a discourteous guest," he told me, tying off the condom, slipping it into the bag, sealing that, then tucking it back into his shorts.
"Why did you bring baggies?" I asked, shaking my head.
"Well, I knew I would need one for my phone," he told me, finding another baggy, slipping his cell inside it, sealing it, then tucking it into his other back pant pocket.
"Why would you need it for your phone?" I asked as he reached for his shirt, then my dress, my panties.
I thought to hand them to me so we could both dress and head out.
I really should have known better.
"Well, of course I would need one for my phone," he told me, walking over to the cave opening, dangerously close to the edge, in fact. "Otherwise, it would never survive this," he told me balling up our clothes.
I realized his intention a second too late.
As they seemed to hover in the air in slow motion before falling.
"No!" I shrieked, heart dropping. "Why would you do that? I am pretty cool with all of this," I said, gesturing to my naked body, "but not cool enough to walk back through this park and up to the driver of your car stark freaking naked, Fenway."
"Luckily, my darling, that won't be necessary," he assured me, reaching for my hand, pulling me forward toward the opening of the cave, the water slicking my body with spray.
"Fenway, no," I said, trying to plant my heels, but there was no use.
He was determined.
The ground was slippery.
And, quite frankly, I didn't actually want to fight him anyway.
"Oh, darling, yes," he told me, face triumphant. And, God, it was a good look. So good, in fact, that my lips curved up with him, anticipation fluttering through my belly.
"Have you ever done this before?" I asked, leaning forward slightly, trying to see if there were any jutting rocks we needed to be worried about.
"Nope."
"Do you know if it is safe?"
"Nope," he said, smiling wider.
"That is a hell of a risk."
"Oh, come on now, darling, you're not scared of anything."
He was right.
And yet so incredibly, monumentally wrong.
Because I was scared of something.
Terrified, in truth.
And that was of the feeling I had in my chest when he looked at me like that, like I was the only thing in the world, like I was the only person he would ever want to have this adventure with.
Wanting to get away from those feelings, I took a deep breath, my fingers gripping his more tightly.
"On three," I told him, leaning forward slightly. "One..."
"Three," he declared, leaping, taking me with him.
When I looked back on this moment, I would find a sort of poetry in it.
The act of physically falling.
And the fact that, inside, my heart was doing something very similar, something just as frightening, but also as thrilling.
My scream echoed through the empty park right before we broke through the surface at the bottom of the waterfall, last-minute panic gripping me, realizing I had absolutely no idea if this water was deep enough to dive into, if we were going to survive the fall, if I was going to be some Jane Doe in a Bali morgue because no one here actually knew who I was.
But when my body propelled upward again, breaking the surface, allowing me to gasp for air, I decided it had been worth the risk.
I turned, finding Fenway who was reaching up with one hand to swipe his hair back, his grin as triumphant as mine must have been.
Have you ever been skinny-dipping in an Indonesian lake after leaping down a waterfall with a billionaire playboy?
Well, I have.
And let me tell you, it was the best moment of my life.
"You do realize that all of our clothes are sopping wet now," I said, seeing my dress float by us, Fenway's hand reaching out for it.
"I told you that you needed that dress at the market. But did you believe me? Nooo," he teased, eyes dancing.
"Well, had I known that we would end up tossing our clothing into a lake, I might have reconsidered that stance. We are going to be freezing on the ride back to the house."
"Well, then, I guess we will have to warm up in the hot tub together," he suggested, shrugging. "But we can't be too long," he added, reaching for me, pulling me closer, using one arm to keep us a
float.
"Why? Do we have more plans tonight?"
"Not tonight. But we will need time to pack."
Pack?
We were leaving?
And why was my heart sinking at the idea.
"I didn't even get to see the beach yet!" I told him, trying for light and fun when I felt like something was crumbling inside.
"Well, I am taking you to a different beach," he told me, pressing a silly kiss to the tip of my nose. "On the yacht," he added, eyebrows wiggling.
"Well, I can't exactly turn down a trip on a yacht, now, can I?"
"You certainly can not," he affirmed.
I had thought he meant a different beach in Bali.
Really, I should have known better.
This was Fenway, after all.
King of the ridiculous.
Chaser of new adventures.
To Fenway, we had 'done' Bali.
And it was time for a new experience.
And a new country.
Me, I was an eager passenger.
Sometime between the marketplace and the cave, I had somehow completely stopped faking it.
And it wasn't until a week later, my feet cozy in warm sand, when a ding on my phone reminded me of the truth.
That none of this was real.
That this was just a job.
And one that was nearly over.
NINE
Fenway
"Do you think we are going to see one of those giant crab things?" Wasp asked, eyes wide, smile bright.
Most people, when they heard of all the creepy crawlers in Australia, x'd out the entire country as a "nope."
Wasp?
Wasp wanted me to uncover every freaky, ugly, venomous, dangerous creature.
When I'd gotten her on the yacht four days before, after listening to a short lecture about how ostentatious it was before she decided we needed to break in the hot tub, she had pulled out her phone, finding some articles about all the weird and wondrous creatures that inhabited the Land Down Under.
"There are one-hundred-and-seventy snakes native to Australia. Want to know how many are venomous?"
I didn't actually, but her enthusiasm was infections. My hand moved out, tucking the hair behind her ear that had fallen in her face. "How many?"
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