I hitch my skirt and step over Nate’s legs, planting my foot firmly in the foot-well. The sound of his zip and his low groan send a river of excitement through me. His spontaneous expectation, the exhibitionism, it’s the perfect aphrodisiac. As if I need one when Nate’s involved.
He grabs my hips and pulls me down to him. With one of my hands, I hoist the fabric of my skirt up to give him access.
“Why the fuck aren’t you wearing panties?”
“If you have to ask that then you’ve not been paying much attention over the last week. I’ve not worn any accept my bikini bottoms since the first night in the bungalow.”
“Fuck, that’s sexy.”
He yanks me down hard, and the blunt end of his cock pushes to gain entrance between my legs. My arms lock out, giving myself purchase as I try to ease my legs wider. Nate drives himself inside, his fingers gripping hard against my hip bones.
This isn’t romantic, or love. It’s rough, desperate, but it feels…necessary. Like we both need it to clear the air. And it’s perfect.
Heat explodes over my body as he picks up the pace, rutting into me with only one goal. My legs start to quiver as I hold my position, but the inevitable climax is right there, dancing on the periphery of my grasp.
“You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” Nate puffs out behind gritted teeth. “Exposed.” His hand wraps into my hair, tipping my head back to him, sharply.
“No.” It sounds like a plea to my ears, like I’m craving exactly what he’s delivering. I straighten and try to grind my pussy against his lap, now desperate for him to spark my orgasm. “You wanted me to smile,” I spit out. “Make me come.”
“Keep your fucking ass still unless you want me to put my dick in it.”
“Promises, promises.”
“We’ll get to that. Don’t you worry.” I grunt as he shoves in deeper, his fingers bracing me down with little hope of moving. “Are you smiling yet?”
“Yes, but I’ll be much happier once I...” His hand snakes around to find my clit before I can finish, squeezing the over-sensitised nub with a precision I’m getting used to. “Oh, god yes…” Shocks of pleasure spike through my nervous system, my orgasm exploding through my body without any help from me.
“Fuck, Gabby.” He groans, hammering against me, his skin slapping against mine as he drives in again and again. I’m barely breathing as I grip onto the bar above me. I let him fuck me with little care anymore to who might see, a smile riding my face, and then he stills and groans out again.
Minutes pass. Or hours. It’s just me and him, buried in each other.
“Did you mess up my skirt?” I know the answer, and his chuckle has me smiling all the more. There’s no way I’m wearing this in public.
“You brought clothes. Wear something new.” I turn around to face him with a beaming smile over my face. “Jesus, you needed that.”
“Yes, I did. Thank you.”
“You’re fucking welcome.”
After we arrive back at the resort, I head over to my own bungalow to change. Nate and I have been living in each other’s pockets, or rather his bed, for the majority of the last week. It’s suited us both. Hell, it’s been perfect. I got to see him every day and watch the diamonds. Not that the last matters too much.
But the longer I’m around Nate, the harder it is to keep things on a first name basis, certainly with those diamonds lying right next to us. I want to ask questions, like he does, and find out more about the man I’m sharing my body with.
A one-night stand with no strings is easy. This? Not so much. And his double standards piss me off. Why is it important for him to know about my life while not giving me the same courtesy?
My feet pace over the smooth wooden floor of the bungalow. I check over my go-bag in the wardrobe and replace a few of the items of clothing with some of the clothes I bought from the market today.
The black rucksack looks at odds to the line of dresses and other high-end clothes I’ve purchased since being on the island. The money I spend on clothes wouldn’t bother me so much if I got to keep them, but it’s the same each time I leave. I leave everything along with the place I’m moving from, ghosting out as if I was never there. And my time here is nearly up. A few more days and I’ll be back on a plane to another destination before I make the final journey back to Antwerp for a few weeks.
Leaving has never been a problem before. I’ve always resigned myself to the reality that I’ll never be able to stay in one place for long because of what I do but spending this amount of time with Nate has thrown a spotlight on the loneliness that’s been growing inside of me.
I sought my brother’s approval when I was younger, thinking he’d be the way to find the family I’ve always wanted, but he shows me time and time again how little he cares for me past what I can do for him. With Nate, it’s different. Hopeful even.
The long flowing tropical print dress still has the tags on, but I choose to change into it for the rest of the day. I grab my phone and double check my bag again before checking the walkways between the bungalows. There’s been no sign of anyone out of place. Nothing to tip me off that someone followed me here. But that doesn’t stop me from being vigilant. I’ve been in such a bubble with Nate, it would be easy to slip, and I can’t afford that. I finally head out towards his bungalow.
As I walk through the door, I banish all the sombre thoughts that have plagued my mind.
“Hey, where did you get to? I was looking forward to watching you swim across.” He comes over to me and plants a kiss on my lips. There’s a slight sheen to his skin like he’s been baking in the sun for too long.
“I didn’t want to get my dress wet. Why are you sweaty?”
“Workout.”
“Really? In this heat?” He’s been more than happy to laze about.
“And?”
“Nothing to do with the comment I made earlier?” I wiggle my brows at him. Seems he took my teasing to heart about lacking abs, not that he currently has any trouble in that department.
Just as I want to make another comment about Nate’s sudden interest in training, my phone chimes, followed by another, and then it starts to ring.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I know who it is. I don’t need to check the phone. Andreas always sends two messages before he calls. And it’s never a good thing when he does. “Hello.”
“Where the fuck are you? I’ve been home for a week now, and I’ve heard nothing from you.” He snaps the accusation at me.
I walk calmly from the open living room through to the back bedroom before responding.
“And since when have I ever had to check in with you?”
“Since you ran off with half my payment. Those diamonds aren’t for you, and I need them back.”
“Estúpido! You needed me for the diamonds. I delivered. It was your deal that ended in bullets flying and no other choice but to run. You were in your own fucking vehicle by the time I reached mine. No great concern there.” The panic from that night swells up inside of me. I dip my head around the doorjamb to check Nate is far from earshot, lowering my voice again.
“Look, hermanita, I’m sorry things got out of hand, but I want those diamonds back. You need to watch your back. Both sides want them. Are they safe?”
“Are they safe? What about me?”
“You can look after yourself. You’ve been doing that for years.”
“Good to know you care, hermano.”
“Come home. With the diamonds. I need you to do that for me.” His voice softens for the first time, and I hear the fear I felt as I drove towards the airport that night.
“I can’t, Andreas. Not yet.”
“Damn it, Gabriella, don’t play games. I need those diamonds back.” His voice booms down the phone. It reminds me of when I was a teenager and would sneak in to his warehouse to find him. He’d bark orders at his friends, and they’d scurry off to do his bidding. He was like a general, commanding his troops. They looked up t
o him, wanted to follow him, and all I wanted was to be part of it, too. It was what drove me to step outside the lines of the law, but it didn’t give me the rewards I hoped for.
“I never play games. And I’m done with the mess you pulled me into.” My finger stabs the end call button, and I hold my breath for a few seconds to let the venom seep into my blood. Andreas makes me so mad. And I spent so long seeking his approval.
My exhale brings calmness back, and I put a smile on my face as fake as the diamonds around the neck of the bimbo I saw that first night.
“Hey, sorry about that.” I pick up the glass on the table and join Nate on the outside chairs.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just…” I consider telling Nate it’s nothing, but there’s something inside of my heart longing to share something real, something of me with him. “Family. They can be hard work.” And despite how much I hate my brother right now, I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. He’s not usually as mean to me as he was today. We’ve worked together, and he’s always shown me some degree of respect. This conversation was different, harsher.
“Hmm.” Nate doesn’t elaborate but sips at the clear liquid in the glass, the ice clinking as he sets it back down.
“My brother can be challenging. We’re different personalities.” He lifts a brow at me, interested.
“You have any other siblings?”
“No. He is plenty to handle all on his own. What about you?”
“We’re not talking about me.” He turns away, a wry smile on his face.
“Oh, don’t start that crap again, Nate. Knowing if you do or don’t have a brother isn’t going to change the last few days we have or give me any grand ideas past our time together.” Seems my brother’s bad mood is catching.
“Fine. Jesus. Yes. I have a brother.” He raises his hands as if I just asked him to admit to some scandalous secret.
“Was that so hard?”
“You’d be fucking surprised.” He scoffs, turning away again.
We both sulk, seemingly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. The tension grows and becomes a physical barrier. Unspoken words and unanswered questions drift in the air between us.
It’s stupid. I knew what I was getting myself into when I walked up to Nate in the bar. Just because he’s stirred some feelings inside my chest and caused me to feel like I could belong somewhere, with someone, for the first time in my life, doesn’t mean it’s destined to happen. It’s this place. This island. Luring me into a romantic state with its utopian views, exquisite surroundings and ‘nothing is too much trouble’ service. That’s all. Nothing to do with my heart. Or the ease with which Nate and I fit together.
If we were back in the States, or in Europe, it would be different.
“Would you rather eat in tonight, or shall I book us a table at one of the restaurants?” I try for a practical question to get us back on track. With only a few more days, regardless of how things will end, I should enjoy Nate while I have him.
Both of us should enjoy each other.
“I’m easy. You choose. Although something a little more private than the bar would be nice.” I nod and walk back inside. My eyes check the vase for the diamonds to ensure I’ve not missed them these last few days. Sure enough, they’re still where I put them.
The welcome guide is open on the counter in the kitchen. I flick through the restaurant options and choose the fine dining experience. Further at the back of the book are other evening entertainment spots. A linked hotel on the mainland has a casino and Friday nights are the big game events.
We’ve kept everything low key so far. It would be exciting to go and have some real fun. I can’t keep the smile from my lips as I run the plan over in my mind. Nate’s only seen the holiday version of me. Of course, I move in a lot of different circles and I can certainly hold my own at the tables.
“Hello, Mr Nate. How may we help you?” The operator picks up after a single ring from the in-room phone.
“Oh, hello. We’d like to book a table at Arii Moana for tonight, please. Can it be in a more secluded section?”
“Of course, Miss…?”
“Andreas. Sofia Andreas.”
“Ah, Miss Andreas. Of course. Of course.”
“I’d also like to book two sea taxis to the mainland for tomorrow evening. One at eight thirty for myself. The other at nine for Nate.” I want our little excursion to be a surprise for Nate. At least part of it.
“Certainly.”
“And have a return taxi on standby from midnight, please.”
“And charge to your room?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else.”
“No, thank you.” I hang up feeling good about my little plan.
This is what we need—a way to ease the tension without falling into bed together. At least not right away. Now I just need to get ready for tomorrow.
Chapter Ten
She said she’d meet me here, that she had something to do, but I’m damned if I can see her anywhere. I’ve scanned the casino at least three times finding nothing but the usual assortment of wealth and finery. It’s dull, monotonous. The same thing I’ve seen for the last twenty years of my life.
She’s far from that.
I tug a little at my collar, unused to the restriction around my neck after all this time not wearing one and signal the barkeep for another scotch. He does as they always do and brings it swiftly, so I stare into the glass rather than waste my energy on anything else here. It’s her I want to see. That’s all. I want that smile that comes when she hears this dirty mouth of mine, the slightly sleazy lift of her lips that does all kinds of things to me.
The flower rests beside me. Tahitian Gardenia. It’s as delicate as she is, yet smooth and tough at the edges, protecting itself somehow with an impenetrable outer layer. It makes me smile and I pull it towards me, fingering the white petals lightly as I take another slug of my drink and wait.
All day we’ve fucked around again, lounging with each other and smiling. Relaxing. It’s all we’ve done the entire time we’ve been here together, short of a few snapped comments. It’s like we’ve found the missing parts of ourselves in each other, certainly from my perspective, anyway. It’s annoying, confusing. It’s also making me consider that this is not simply a holiday fling.
Where the hell is she?
I snort at myself, amused with what I’ve become around her. Or maybe it’s just here, on this island, thousands of miles away from home and not giving one fuck for going back.
I’ve changed. I can feel it. I’m calmer, more relaxed. Less inclined to try calculating everything, and undeniably settled with the thought of just being.
A ruckus somewhere draws my head back up, neck twisting in case I need to be concerned. Fuck, old habits die hard. It’s just a bunch of dicks at the craps table, some of them pissed that their money’s gone to the house. I smile, remembering Quinn’s reaction every time that same thing happens in one of ours. He damn well loves it. Loves the loaded pockets, loves the power he holds over them all. It’s who he is, whether made that way or not. No one has survived his wrath. Not one person. I’ve watched him grow, backed him the entire way. Been there for him and waited until the right woman came along to change his perceptions. Hoped.
Who fucking knew it would be someone like Emily.
My head shakes as I think about her. She’s a good woman. I know that, but I can’t see her without seeing Josh. For the first time since it happened, though, and maybe because of this atmosphere, I’m less furious about it. I stare around the room again, watching the fakery present itself to the rest of the clientele. High end everything. Jewellery dripping off skin. Pretentious fucks. I’ve more than likely got more money in offshore accounts than these dicks have ever dreamt of.
I turn back to my drink again, less than enamoured with her timing. Patience is a learnt virtue in my line of work, and this island is bringing the old me right back to th
e forefront. Maybe I’m more like Quinn than I imagined.
Fuck this.
My legs have me standing up and walking the damn room to search for her again before I’ve considered my actions, flower in hand. I’m pacing the outer limits like a starved dog, weaving the tables, all the time watching for swindlers trying their luck to avoid my own feelings. They’re all about her.
I can feel them inside me, burning their way through what should be cold. I’m not like Quinn, though. Never have been. Not deep down. Something in me yearns for more than this barren landscape the Cane name creates. It searches for the good in people, hopes for connection and warmth even though it knows it shouldn’t. And she’s giving me that now. She’s finding the memories of my childish dreams with her attitude and flair. I’m smiling more. Laughing more. Christ, I’m even remembering the younger brother in me who tried to wind Quinn up all those years ago, the one who got to laugh and have fun.
Play.
I stand after a bit, mildly interested in a guy who’s not exactly playing by the house rules. He’s counting cards, aiming for a drunken fool who’s got more money than sense. I chuckle and keep watching, playing his odds right along with him. He’s doing well, and if it was my casino I’d have him lynched, but it’s not. Not this time.
I smile at my lack of responsibility and wander off again towards the roulette wheels.
And then I see the back of her, her chin slightly turned in my direction.
Fuck.
It’s no wonder I couldn’t find her. What the hell?
The vision is nothing like the Gabby I know. Tight damn everything—a full-length red dress clinging to every curve she’s got, stilettos making those legs longer than even my eyes can process, regardless of the fact I had them wrapped around my neck earlier today. Jesus. My dick twitches as I slowly move forward, enough so that I have to hitch the damn thing around as I wonder who the hell she is some more. She looks like she’s worth a fortune, owning the air around her just by standing still. The diamonds around her skin alone must be valued at more than the roulette table will make tonight. And the asshole talking to her needs to stop whatever he’s thinking of doing with his hand.
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 8
