Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

by Natalia Banks

  “Why?” She asked surprised.

  Jeremy tilted his head, “We’re not going to take your money now, Lo’.”

  “Of course you are — ” She interjected.

  “No, Anton and I agree definitely not; not the raise, either, or the bonuses, none of it.”

  “Jeremy — ”

  “You may need that money now. I earn what I earn and it’s fine. If fate or God or whatever wants us to raise a child, somehow that’ll happen, I just have to trust in that.” Sadness and disappointment was starting to show on his face.

  “Jeremy, it won’t make a difference to us. If we go bankrupt — ” Lorraine said aloud, trying her best to be realistic about the current situation they were in.

  “Lorraine, don’t even say that!” He blurted out. Jeremy was right, it wasn't something Lorraine liked to say, but she had little choice as the weeks went on and the future became clear. What she had to do was face it, and lead by example for Jeremy, for Ashe and Kayla and maybe even for Griffin himself. In a way, she had already accepted that fate, and it didn’t frighten her nearly as much as she thought it might.

  “Hey, I’ve been poor before,” Lorraine said with a fake smile, “I can do it again.”

  Jeremy sneered at Lorraine and said “Lorraine, being poor is a lot harder once you’ve been rich.”

  “How would you know?” She countered, her brows furrowing.

  “Call it a hunch! And for me, it’s not as big a deal, because there’s less money.”

  Lorraine turned a tender gaze to her old friend. “But Jeremy, I’ve already got my family, and that’s what really matters. The money? Without Griffin and those kids, without you, it wouldn’t be much more than a big stack of green paper.” There was no denying Lorraine’s heartfelt and profound honesty.

  Jeremy broke out in a surprised chuckle, Lorraine joining him as the two shared a loving hug and Kayla ran up to them, arms out, mouth in a wide, adorable smile.

  Lorraine took a deep breath and said, “Just hang tight, Jer, we’ll get through all this … somehow.”

  Chapter 8

  Lorraine wasn’t terribly surprised that Griffin wanted to get away for a few days. He always seemed to be drawn to that and he had good reasons every time; sound, practical reasons. But, Lorraine could remember her own days of fearful hiding and denial, all the reasons and justifications, excuses she now realized that she could manufacture. But, in truth, it was a way to hide from the dangers of the world she lived in, and more and more Lorraine couldn’t help but wonder if Griffin wasn’t behaving in much the same way without even realizing it.

  It hardly mattered. When Griffin put his mind to something, there was just no talking him out of it. So Jeremy and Anton were camped out at the penthouse with Ashe and Kayla while Lorraine was with Griffin in their private jet heading for the U.S. Virgin Islands.

  After a night of insane love making in an open-air hut at the end of a long pier, during which Lorraine felt as if she was having sex right on the surface of the water, they took a different view of those gorgeous, pale blue Caribbean waters.

  The next day their rented speed boat raced over the Caribbean waters, bouncing on the waves. Lorraine and Griffin were strapped into a bench seat side by side with a long, colorful parachute spread out behind them. Once the boat hit the right speed, they lifted up off the water, no longer sitting floating on the surface, but floating above it and getting higher fast.

  Lorraine’s stomach rose up to the bottom of her lungs, then dropped down to the pit of her bowels as they sailed upward, the boat and the ocean and the islands themselves getting smaller fast.

  The wind got stronger the higher they rose, pushing Lorraine back into the seat as the boat dragged them through the sky. Lorraine’s skin was covered with goosebumps, blood rushing in her veins. Lorraine’s head went light, dizziness threatening to pull her head forward, but she fought the sensation.

  Don’t let the fear in, Lorraine told herself, don’t let it back in!

  Griffin reached out and held Lorraine’s hand, and she was glad of it. It didn’t bring her too much comfort, but it didn’t hurt. That gaping spread of empty air stretched out beneath her, higher and higher as they ascended, the boat speeding along the water’s surface, the only thing keeping them alive.

  Exhilaration pushed her fear aside as Lorraine’s experience stepped in to replace her old, lingering insecurities. She’d soared above New York in a helicopter, nearly drowned on an errant flyboard, sped along zip-lines and stood before hundreds of people, risking her life and almost losing it in the bargain.

  They sailed above the colonial buildings, colorful and antiquated; light blue, red, orange, yellow, uneven rows of ramshackle squares that could not disguise their turbulent past, difficult present, and nearly nonexistent future. From that elevated perspective, the ugliness melted away and only the beauty shone through. Gazing out over those jagged island mountains and pretty boats on the white tips, Lorraine felt as if she was not in danger; in fact she felt miles removed from any danger at all.

  Nothing can touch us up here, Lorraine realized. Down there is where all the peril and duplicity is. Up here it’s me and Griffin, the endless blue sky, the most gorgeous patch of Earth spread out beneath.

  There in the breezy heights, Lorraine felt elevated, delivered by Griffin into a different strata, where few enough people dared to tread. Lorraine knew that a scant few years before she would never have taken such risks or enjoyed such rewards, seen what she had seen or done what she had done, been whom she’d become, won what she had won.

  So instead of fearing a fall to her death, Lorraine savored the security of the straps, enjoyed the freedom of her naked legs kicking idly under the bench seat. This is where I am now, Lorraine told herself, this is where I belong, this is what I deserve.

  This … and more.

  And there was more. Griffin hired a private car to drive them out to Virgin Gorda, a popular beach. Griffin was withholding a smile, as if he had a secret he wouldn’t divulge. Lorraine was happy to let him have his secret. She knew he’d share it soon enough, and she couldn’t wait to see what it was, or to find out how long she’d be able to endure it.

  Once on the beach, Lorraine followed Griffin past the tourists and sunbathers, not too many of them during that off-season week, to a small opening in a rock bank. Griffin stepped through and then reached out to help her in, her feet carefully feeling the way into the unknown, mysterious cavern.

  Once inside, natural light leaked in through crevices to illuminate the amazing bath caves. Huge granite boulders were stacked upon one another, magnificent formations carved out by eons of tidal erosion to create works of art God himself had put his unseen signature to.

  The cavern was filled with the salty mist of the Caribbean Sea, water leaking in with the pulse of the waves, Lorraine and Griffin holding hands as they walked through the labyrinthian cave.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Lorraine couldn’t help but say.

  “It was until you stepped into it,” Griffin said. “Now, compared to you, it’s just another hole in the wall. I don’t doubt that the cave is somehow reeling at your natural beauty, Lorraine.”

  She smiled at how sweet Griffin was, words couldn’t find their way through the lump in her throat. Tidal pools collected between the rocks they climbed over, colorful creatures seeking refuge from the chaos of the oceans beyond. There were predators out there, gliding monsters with teeth like sharpened steel.

  Lorraine had to wonder, How different am I? Is this the way I was living, sheltered and afraid? Maybe it wasn’t so bad, huddled up with my family, my tribe, letting the rest of the ocean solve its own problems. And it would have to, at least for the time being.

  Lorraine and Griffin went from Dead Man’s Beach to the St. Thomas port town of Redhook. Island music leaked out of every street corner and every bar; electric reggae with guitars bending chords, drums rolling along in that rickety rhythm, steel drums floating in the humid breeze.

/>   They strolled down the main drag, the smells of spicy jerked pork and fresh, robust ganja filling the air and her nostrils. Lorraine almost began to feel lightheaded, a feeling she knew well in her college days but not since.

  Brightly painted shops sold t-shirts with the ever-present face of national hero Bob Marley, the familiar five-leafed marijuana plant, and, of course, the tricolor wool hats so popular among those who practice that lifestyle and religion.

  Children sold fruit to pedestrians, police strolled around as if their mere presence might have some effect on the teaming criminal element which barely bothered to hide beneath the surface of the tourist town.

  Lorraine and Griffin dined on fresh shrimp and oysters, Lorraine unable to deny the fabled rush of aphrodisiac ecstasy that taunted her senses, tickling her imagination … among other parts of her body. With the lemony tang of the lobster tails, the heady taste of the banana daiquiris, her body was indulged with flavors and sensations she knew she just couldn’t find in New York. Looking around that beautiful and exotic island town, surrounded by the peak of God’s natural creation, Lorraine knew what Griffin had been talking about. It truly was important, even vital to partake of these experiences, to travel to the greatest distance and spend the countless dollars to achieve and enjoy them. This is a part of life, Lorraine had come to truly understand, it revitalizes and rejuvenates and it relaxes, it broadens the mind and the heart and the soul.

  And it feels so good, especially after the stress and strain of daily life in New York, even Denver; anywhere in the hustle-bustle world I know and have always known.

  But there is a choice, Lorraine knew then without a doubt, there is another way, if only I can muster the strength to embrace it and give up my presumptions of myself, of my community, of my government. What do those things really matter to me? I’ve got my husband, my awesome kids, my fantastic friends and parents. The rest is just distraction, isn’t it? How much does any of it mean against the majesty of that Caribbean sea, those tree-caked mountains, joy abounding that most people can only dream of and will never enjoy?

  And there was still more to enjoy. Willy T’s was a two-decker boat anchored in the nearby British Virgin Islands, where middle aged women did shots and young, shirtless men jumped off the top deck into the water to the joyous shouts and applause of their frat brothers and traveling companions.

  Bob Marley tunes blared into the starry night’s sky, the slinky rhythms finding their way into Lorraine and Griffins hips as they relished a corner of the deck for themselves, Griffin leaning against the metal pole that supported the canopy over the upper deck.

  Their bodies molded against one another, grinding to the beat of the music, a slow and sumptuous push that said all they needed to say and told each other all they needed to know. Lorraine smiled as she felt his massive cock growing under his linen pants, her tingling heat of her own pussy, already hungry for it, driven to greater heights by the drink, the music, the salty ocean breezes.

  Chapter 9

  They returned to their amazing bungalow, adorned with a hot tub and porch that overlooked the vast blackness of the Caribbean Sea. Inside the bungalow, Lorraine poured two flutes of Champagne and smiled to see Griffin approaching.

  Griffin just glared at her. “Who are you?” Lorraine’s eyes widened and looked at him with a surprised and confused smile, holding up two flutes of Champagne as if it should answer any questions he might have, no matter how absurd they might be.

  Griffin asked again in his low voice, “Who are you, and what are you doing in my bungalow?”

  “Grif? What are you — ?”

  “Don’t do that,” Griffin said, taking a step toward her, “Don’t. You sneak into a strange man’s private space and then play dumb? No, don’t.” Lorraine didn’t know how to respond, so she simply didn’t. Her heart beating faster in the midst of the confusion. She stood stunned and confused as Griffin approached her, but there was no fear of him, even her confusion was fast slipping away. “I suppose I should call the police, you just turning up like this, breaking and entering.” Griffin’s eyes twinkled and a naughty smirk filled his face.

  That was when Lorraine realized what her husband was up to, yet another trick, another technique he used to welcome her into another dimension of their own erotic paradise.

  “I … I didn't mean to,” Lorraine said. “I thought you’d be pleased. That’s all I wanted, was to please you.”

  “Is that so?” He growled. Lorraine trembled as he approached, taking one of the flutes and sipping the Champagne.

  “How is it?” She asked innocently, playing along with the fantasy.

  Griffin shrugged. “Fair. So, is this what you expected, that you could just slip in here and pour me some of my own liquor?”

  Lorraine stammered. “I … um … ”

  “You didn't think this through, did you?” He said in a serious tone, Lorraine enjoying every delicious moment of the role play that was unfolding.

  “No, I … I was just so eager to meet you, I guess I was too eager.” She crossed her legs flirtatiously, playing with the hem of her dress.

  “I guess you were,” he said, his voice a flat, cold slate of recrimination. “What else are you eager to do?”

  Lorraine cleared her throat. “Um, whatever you want me to do.”

  Griffin nodded with a wry half-smile. “I see.” He walked past her to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the opened Champagne bottle. “Okay then,” Griffin said matter of factly, “take off your clothes.”

  Lorraine slipped the spaghetti straps of her light, summer dress from off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor to reveal her naked body, no bra or panties to disguise her. She presented herself to him the way she always would. His role play game of being strangers, of her being an intruder, made her feel more vulnerable than ever before, more prone to the pitfalls of their reckless passion.

  Griffin walked out from the kitchen to the back of the bungalow, Lorraine following without a word. With a flick of the switch, the hot tub was frothing, steam soon rising up into the balmy night sky.

  Griffin stripped down without a word, his tall, muscular body chiseled like some ancient Greek statue come to life. He slowly stepped into the hot water while Lorraine stood there in silent confusion, waiting to be invited. And without a word, with just a jut of his head, Griffin offered that invitation.

  Lorraine accepted.

  “You knew I had a hot tub,” Griffin said, and Lorraine could only nod as she stepped in, the water hot around her feet, her ankles, her calves. Goosebumps jumped up on the backs of her arms and around her nipples, already hard, reaching out for Griffin’s expert attention and affection.

  “Yes,” Lorraine barely managed to say, “I knew.”

  Griffin refilled her flute, the Champagne cold and crisp in contrast to the hot, bubbling froth all around her.

  Griffin took another sip of his own drink, watching Lorraine as she savored another sip, too. Then Griffin leaned over and gave her a gentle little kiss, their lips touching in a tender moment of wordless wonder.

  Griffin smiled. “You always kiss men you don’t know?” Lorraine could only shake her head. “But sometimes, obviously … ” He said smiling.

  Lorraine shrugged, her naked shoulder arching up toward her ear, short red hair damp with steam. “Sometimes.”

  “And sometimes you let them fuck you, the way I’m going to.”

  “Oh no,” Lorraine said too quickly, the Champagne and the role play keeping her off her guard. “I mean, not the way you're going to.”

  “That’s right,” Griffin said, taking her flute and setting both glasses down on the edge of the hot tub. His hands found her arms and he gently guided Lorraine away from the side of the tub to sit in front of him, leaning back into his damp chest, his powerful arms wrapped around her, his hands on her wrists, her arms folded in front of her.

  His hard hammer was strong and thick between her legs, and as Griffin eased her
back, Lorraine relished the feeling of that beloved beast pressed against her ass cheeks, the small of her back, rotating to a different position as she shifted her body just a few inches in any direction. That slow grind became more pronounced as that cock searched out its home, finding her hot, wet pussy at the very bottom, wedging into her entrance and slowly pushing in. The heat and the bubbles made Lorraine’s nerves crackle with soothing comfort and anxious energy. She was relaxed and loose, but that tension returned as her body slowly became an extension of Griffin’s own, every fraction of an inch further bringing them closer together, two once more becoming one.

  Lorraine’s exposed breasts were glistening with the steam and the heat and the water. Griffin’s hands reached around to clutch her them, circling his fingers over her nipples in a burning tease before giving them both a good, hard squeeze, pushing those wanton nipples inward. They sprang back out from Lorraine’s firm breasts, ready to match Griffin stroke for stroke.

  Lorraine leaned back into his chest, his cock pushing up further into her tight clench, even the heat and the water failing to rob her muscles of their strength and power. If anything, Lorraine felt stronger than ever before, energized by all that bubbling water, energy swirling around beneath the surface and above, inside and out, up and down as Griffin guided her body up and down on his throbbing cock, long and unyielding.

  “Is this what you expected,” Griffin rasped into her ear, “is this what you came for?”

  Lorraine nodded, drops of water flicking off her short, red hair. “Yeah, this is what I wanted, so bad … wanted it so bad … ”

  “This is just the beginning, baby. You have no idea what you’ve stumbled into. But it’s too late now, you hot little intruder. I’m in, I’m inside you now!” Lorraine nodded, her focus divided between his words, her heartbeat, the heat rising up from the water and from her own loins. “You can feel it, you can’t avoid it, and you love it!”