Still rubbing his cheek, Moana flashed a dazzling grin and nodded. “One way.”
Rahiti rolled his eyes. “Moana, you’re going to frighten her.” He looked apologetic. “Forgive him, Lyric. It has been several hundred years since he’s been able to touch a woman.”
“Especially one as beautiful as you. Lyric. Lyric.” He seemed to be trying out her name on his tongue. “Didn’t I tell you, Rahiti? Look at her. She is everything we dreamed of.”
Lyric held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, big fella. My work here is done. I’m going back to my hut, and you guys can go off to…wherever it is you belong.”
“We belong with you,” Moana said, his face folding into a puzzled frown. And what a face it was. Where Rahiti was all stocky muscle, Moana, while no less masculine, had finer features, lips that seemed chiseled by an artist’s hand, midnight-black hair that fell to his shoulders, and eyes of gold. He, too, bore black tribal tattoos over his arms and chest and even across the tops of his thighs. They just naturally drew her eye to the more interesting bits. Lyric had to tear her gaze from him to answer.
“There’s a man who lives on the island. His name is Henri. I’m sure he can help you figure out what’s happened. He’s the one who told me about that legend.”
“So you do believe?” Moana asked.
Rahiti slung his arm around Moana’s shoulders. “Of course she must, now, after seeing you change.” His attention never strayed from Lyric’s face. “You were right, Moana. She knows our names. She is the one.”
“The one what?” Oh boy, this couldn’t be good, the way they were looking at her so intensely, their cocks still at half-mast, her body throbbing from Moana’s kiss and wanting more. No siree, that couldn’t be good at all.
Moana started to answer, but Rahiti spoke over him. “Can we at least return with you to your hut? Perhaps you can find some covering for us, some…clothing. And then we will speak with Henri.”
“Or with you,” Moana blurted. “I would like to talk with you. I want to know everything about you. Where you come from. What you like. How to please you.”
He gazed at her with such unabashed adoration that Lyric wondered if maybe he was a little nuts. Then again, being stuck as a dolphin for a couple hundred years might do that to a man. Oh heck no, she wasn’t going down that path. No matter what she thought she saw, it had to have been some kind of a trick. Still, peering out over the ocean, she didn’t see any dolphins.
Just these two.
Waiting for her answer.
She pushed her mask up a little higher on her head then set her hands on her waist. “Okay. You can come with me now, but later, when Henri gets back, we go to see him. You can tell him what happened because I’m still not sure I believe it.” When Moana began to protest, she held up a finger. “Uh-uh. We’ll let Henri sort it out. And no more kissing.”
He lifted his hands. “I only wanted to thank you.”
“What he means,” Rahiti said, his curling his fingers around Moana’s upper arms from behind as if warning him not to dig himself in deeper, “is that we will do whatever you like.” He tipped his head. “We are yours to command.”
Moana nodded.
“Hmm,” she said skeptically, careful to keep her astonishment from her expression. What exactly was happening here? As she turned to splash toward the beach, a growing part of her pushed to accept the impossible.
Somehow, some way, the two men following her back to shore, stumbling and hanging on to each other for strength, were ancient Polynesian warriors.
And they were hers.
“Do not agitate her,” Rahiti whispered to Moana in their native language as they followed Lyric onto the beach. “She does not behave as women of our time did. She has courage and fire, but we cannot expect her to fall to her knees and be a good, obedient wife as Mohea would have been.”
“No more kissing. That’s a worse punishment than being a dolphin.” Moana moaned beneath his breath. “I don’t know if I can stop touching her. Her skin is like the softest sand. Her mouth is the warmest of waters.”
His foolish friend would ruin this if he couldn’t stop thinking with his tore. Rahiti corrected himself. They must start thinking and speaking in Lyric’s language, English. So, that would be…his cock, he’d heard sailors say. Cock, dick. They would surely say Lyric had a fine ass. He didn’t realize he’d been staring at her swaying hips until Moana chuckled and slid his finger underneath Rahiti’s thickening penis.
“I see you are also thinking of kissing her,” his friend murmured mischievously. “Or more?”
Rahiti pushed his hand away, but not before a ripple of anticipation spread through his…balls. The ease with which the earthy language came to him pleased him. They’d have little trouble communicating their desires to Lyric. “If we are wise and do not rush her but let her accept us instead, she will come to us.”
Moana put his hand up on Rahiti’s shoulder. “I do not know how long I can wait. Her kiss was like the first rays of the sun touching the water.”
Rahiti chuckled. “You were always the storyteller, Moana. Next you’ll say her breasts are as downy as the gull’s belly and her limbs as supple as a palm in a hurricane.”
“It’s true.” Moana grinned at him. “And you.” He drew back to give Rahiti a long appraisal. “How good it is to see you in your warrior’s body. Strong and proud.” He punched Rahiti’s shoulder companionably.
“Weak as a newborn,” Rahiti grumbled. “We must learn to move as men all over again.”
Moana hopped over the last of the waves and danced up on the sand. “Her kiss renewed me!” Reaching out, he grasped Rahiti’s hand and pulled him up the shore. “Dance with me, my friend.” As if he hadn’t been a seagoing mammal just a few minutes before, Moana began a war dance, arms and legs moving strongly as he chanted a throaty song.
“What is he doing?” Lyric cried, coming closer.
“He is dancing.” Out of breath from walking up the beach, Rahiti lacked the strength to join him. Was it possible Lyric’s kiss really had renewed Moana?
Her cheeks turning pink, Lyric half covered her eyes with her hand. “Could he please get dressed first? All that hopping up and down…”
When Rahiti realized she referred to Moana’s flapping cock and balls, he laughed. “He’s happy to be a man again. As am I.”
“You really aren’t giving up on that story, are you?”
“It is the truth. We have been waiting lifetimes for you, Lyric Deponte.”
The alarm that widened her eyes made his breath catch in his throat. Surely he would scare her off. But despite her obvious apprehension, she stayed standing beside him, and his admiration for her grew. She was only uncertain, not afraid. Good. Their woman needed courage and intelligence. Mohea had had both, but Lyric wasn’t Mohea. It would be dangerous to think that way.
With a final shout, Moana finished his ridiculous dancing and rejoined them. His skin shone with sweat, and he grinned from ear to ear. Rahiti had forgotten how broad his friend’s shoulders were, how powerful his arms. The many times they’d pleasured each other as dolphins caused him to see Moana in a different light, even though they were men now. When he’d watched him kissing Lyric, his body had reacted almost violently with desire—for both of them. Another troubling aspect to this challenge was his wondering if Moana would still want the same contact now that they were in their true forms.
“Rahiti.” Moana reached out and pushed his shoulder. “Stop looking so serious.”
Like a weak child, he stumbled back a step. Lyric caught his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to these legs.”
“But he is.” With a puzzled frown, she gazed at Moana. “You seem to be feeling all better.”
“It’s because you kissed me,” he said, coming up close to her side. “If you kiss him, he’ll be strong again, too.”
She gazed at Rahiti. “Well, it can’t be that easy.”
“Try it,” Moana urged.
Rahiti said nothing, but inside, he burned for her touch.
She bit her lower lip, making it plump and moist when she released it. “Look, I’ll give it a shot, but it’s just a peck. No tongue.” She shot an accusatory glare toward Moana, who didn’t look contrite at all.
When she turned and put her hand on Rahiti’s cheek, his chest tightened. So trusting. So brave. He would honor this woman. He lowered his head to hers, and she touched her lips tentatively to his.
Instantly, a thrill of power tumbled through him, and he caught her up in his arms, reminding himself to be gentle. Lyric clutched at his shoulders, then the back of his head, drawing him down to her, and in the far distance, or so it seemed, Moana laughed. “Didn’t I tell you?” his friend teased.
Her sweet flavor filled his mouth, and her scent flooded his nostrils. Her skin felt like the smooth, cool underside of a leaf against his chest. To his delight, she was the first to open her mouth, welcoming his tongue’s invasion. By the gods, she was like nectar.
When she drew away, her lips swollen and slightly parted, her eyes shiny with undeniable lust, he reluctantly loosened his embrace and set her free. She staggered back a step, and this time, he caught her for balance. Strength flowed through his body like the wind over the hills. Truly he had been restored.
She gazed from him to Moana and back. “What the heck is it with you two?”
The joy soaring through his veins cooled instantly. “I am sorry. I…could not stop. You are so beautiful.”
She touched her fingertips to her lips. Beneath the thin fabric of her tiny outfit, the tips of her round breasts jutted, and her slender belly moved with her rapid breathing. What he’d mistaken for anger he now realized was arousal. “It’s okay,” she said slowly. “I just…wasn’t expecting that.”
Her cheeks flushed pink as a conch shell, but her gaze did not drop from his. She held up her hand, palm out. “Look, there’s something you should know about me. I’ve—I’ve sworn off men for a while. I just went through this awful time with my ex. See, he got in trouble with the law, and I paid for his lawyers, and now I have no money, and I’m here because I need to get my head together, and this just can’t be happen—”
Moana cut her off by taking her hand, turning it over, and kissing her palm, then her wrist. He put her hand over his heart. Lyric’s mouth opened, and her eyes widened.
“We will do nothing to displease you,” Moana promised, “or harm you.”
Rahiti could practically see Lyric’s resistance wilting under his charm. Ah, his friend had always been the smooth one. No wonder Mohea had been swayed to his side. The old stab of jealousy caught Rahiti off guard. No, he must not think that way. Forcing away the thoughts, he touched Lyric’s slightly sunburned shoulder, drawing her gaze. “Tell us what to do, Lyric.”
Her luxurious lips pressed together, and her brows drew down. “How do I get myself into these things?” she muttered more to herself than to them. “Well…” She spared each of them a glance, the color high in her cheeks again. “I guess the first thing to do is find some way to cover you up. When you’re like th–that, I can’t—can’t think straight.” She flipped her fingers in the vague direction of their loins.
Rahiti exchanged a wry glance with Moana, whose cock was just as stiff as his. It was clear from her rapid breathing and all-over body flush that Lyric wanted them as much as they wanted her. Between the two of them, they could surely sway her to love them.
Chapter Four
When the two large men followed her into the hut, Lyric felt as if all the air got displaced by their heat and magnetic presence. Not that they were tall—she was only five-four, and they were about five-eight, which, she supposed, was probably tall for men of their…era. Her mind still stumbled around the notion that they were hundreds of years old. They only looked to be in their midtwenties, the same as her.
They gazed around the interior of the hut, touching and picking up the knickknacks with a sense of awe, giving her a moment to assess them. Christ almighty, they both had amazing physiques. Tight butts, slim waists, broad shoulders. Fascinating tattoos. As they moved unselfconsciously around the perimeter of the cozy central room, their cocks, which were finally starting to relax, and balls swayed with their movements. Now if only her body would calm down. Between their incredible kisses and burning hot gazes, her pussy positively throbbed. If she wasn’t already wet from the ocean, she’d be afraid her cream would be dripping down her inner thighs. Her nipples ached so much, every shift of her bikini top over them had her biting her bottom lip. She’d like to tear the top down and expose them to cooler air—or to their mouths. Her inner muscles contracted sharply. Yeah, her body loved that idea.
When they turned to her with curiosity in their eyes, she startled. Here she was just standing around ogling them. “Sorry, guys. I’ll have to get you some towels, I guess. I don’t have any men’s clothing.”
Moana, the cute one, tipped his head. “If it makes you more comfortable, perhaps you can just be naked, too. Then none of us has to worry about clothes.”
Rahiti, the sexy one, rolled his eyes, and Lyric couldn’t help but smile. The dynamics of their relationship would be fun to untangle. She said, “Yeah, I don’t think so. Hold on. I’ll be right back.”
She scooted from the room before she gave in to the urge to rip off her bikini, throw herself on the couch, and demand they ravish her. Behind her, she heard them speaking in low tones in that musical dialect that must be their native language. What were they saying? “She seems like an idiot. We’ll have her credit cards and bank account in no time.” Or, “Can you believe this girl? She actually believes we were dolphins!”
Seriously, she did have to be crazy to have brought two strangers back to her hut. She’d have to play along until she could figure a way to get them out. From the bathroom, she grabbed a couple of towels—big ones that would provide a good deal of coverage—and headed back. “Here you go.” She tossed one to each. When they looked at the towels, then at each other, then at her with their foreheads puckered, she took the towel back from Rahiti and wrapped it around her waist. She tucked in the loose end then held up her hands. “See? Like this.”
“Ah,” Moana said, following her example. Rahiti did the same. Now they just looked like a couple of drop-dead gorgeous Polynesians fresh off the beach.
“So,” she drawled when they continued to stare hungrily at her—at her breasts in particular. “Are you guys…hungry?”
“Mmmm…” Moana nearly moaned, his gaze stripping her bare. Nothing subtle about him.
Rahiti backhanded his arm. “We caught some squid before—uh—before this.” He waved vaguely over his body.
“Squid. Nice.” Ugh. “So, what’s the deal with this curse? Are you going to turn back into dolphins?”
Moana glanced at Rahiti. It was clear he let the big guy do the talking when it came to the serious stuff. Rahiti said carefully, “We’re not sure. There are certain…conditions that must be met. How much did your friend Henri tell you?”
She opted to take a seat on the wicker couch and motioned for them to sit as well. They did, together on the opposing loveseat, moving in tandem as they had when they were dolphins. Cute. “He said you two fought over a woman, and that Copacabana turned you into dolphins to punish you. And that instead of marrying another man, the girl…” She hesitated.
“Mohea,” Rahiti supplied. “And the god was Kanaloa,” he corrected a bit sternly.
“Oh. Sorry. Henri told me that Mohea never got over you and died. But you kept living. Henri says you two protect the island.”
“We don’t like sharks,” Mohea said, his mouth setting in a stubborn line.
“And we have saved a few fishermen here and there,” Rahiti agreed. “It was the least we could do. These are still our islands—”
“—even if our people are gone.” Moana bowed his head, the brightness fading from his eyes.
Lyric l
eaned forward, elbows on knees. God, they were so convincing. “I’m so sorry. About Mohea and everything. It must have been so hard to see the world changing all around you.”
Rahiti nodded. “We tried to keep pace. Moana and I spent many long days listening to humans talking, spending as much time with them as possible.”
“We are fluent in several languages.” Moana perked up again. “English, French, Japanese, Samoan, Tonga—”
“All that matters is that we can speak with you,” Rahiti said, interrupting with a hand on his friend’s knee. “Tell us, why are you here on Tormala?”
“Me? Oh, well…” How much personal information did she want to share? They gazed at her so sincerely, rapt in a way no modern man would be, that she finally figured, in for a penny, in for a pound. “I was engaged. You know what that means?”
They shook their heads in a synchronized back-and-forth wag.
“It means I was going to be married to a man. A man I’d been with for over three years. We’d been living together in my condo—my hut.” The familiar hurt and anger began to churn in her belly. “I trusted him. We combined our finances—our money. Our belongings,” she clarified when their brows furrowed. “So everything was in both our names. Then one day, he got arrested—in trouble with the police. The…” She struggled to find some ancient Polynesian equivalent.
“We know what police are,” Rahiti said.
“And the Navy,” Moana added.
“Okay. Anyhow, he did something stupid. He got involved in an illegal gambling ring.” She shook her head. “I really should have asked where he got his money. I should have known a car salesman didn’t make that much. Well…” She flipped her hand. “He had the cops and some really bad guys after him. I loved him, so I gave him all my money to pay off his debts. Then I sold my condo to pay for his lawyers.” Her throat tightened, but she pressed on. “He swore he loved me and that he’d only done this so we’d have a future together. He promised it would never happen again. Instead…” Oh dammit, she’d promised herself no more tears. Swallowing a lump, she said, “Well, I was stupid and naïve, and he took all I had then disappeared out of the country.”
Linda Gayle Page 4
