The dinner, an artistic presentation of filet mignon, might have been made of sawdust, for all I was able to taste it. I had showered, painted on make-up, and wrapped myself in the deep violet dress, but it was all distant from me, the steps an actress takes before stepping on stage. I barely saw the faces as I made my way down to the club and stepped within.
Kayla glowed from her position at the head of the dance floor, her dress a shimmering white which seemed an angel’s dusting against her skin. My heart ached at the sight. I remembered all the times she had been a loyal friend growing up. How she had held me for weeks after Tanya died, when I was inconsolable. How she had been my strongest supporter when I chose to go against my parents’ wishes about college. How she had always been there when I became homesick those first few months in Boston.
Now she seemed eight years old again, wide-eyed, entranced by what the world held. And towering above her was a man who sought to use that trust to every advantage.
The drums kicked in hard, the guitar was the threshing oars, and Sven’s voice arced high above it all, a war cry, a primal yell, Zeppelin’s ode to his Viking ancestry.
Before when he’d sung these words I’d seen it as an energetic rock song, one with a driving beat and a pageant to long-ago legends. But now the chords were sinister, the ripple of his muscles very real. These were not legendary acts he was celebrating. The plundering was there before him. The defenseless women, unaware of the threat just over the horizon, were like sheep waiting for the slaughter. He yearned for that moment, the piercing moment of conquest, of power, of hard force overcoming all obstacles. I could see it in his gaze, in the penetrating focus which shone from every pore in his body.
Kayla danced before him, oblivious, a twirling tiny doll on a wind-up music box.
I glanced over at Evan. His eyes were on me, hooded, any emotion carefully hidden within the darkness. And then he dropped his gaze again to his fingers, all attention on the heavy, driving movements.
I took a seat at the table at the corner of the stage. I half-noticed the small placard which read “reserved” – Kayla’s wrap was laying alongside it. A waiter was there almost instantly, placing a flute of Champagne down before me. “On the house,” he murmured before dissolving away into the thick mob of dancers.
I shook my head. Who knew if it was Kayla, or the band, or even just the bar staff who had sent it along. I was being sucked in. Every moment I was falling in deeper, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to dig in to stop it.
I had to stay with Kayla. That’s what mattered.
The songs rolled by, I sipped at my Champagne, and then it seemed all too soon that the first break came. Kayla swirled over with a tall drink in vibrant green, plunking down with a smile at my side. She toasted her glass against mine. “They’re in fine form tonight,” she praised. “Did you hear Sven’s vocals on Welcome to the Jungle? I swear he could pass for Axl!”
I was detached from her. It was as if I were watching a progression of events through a one-way mirror, taking down notes, evaluating a client for a prognosis. “Mmmm-hmmmm.”
She ran a finger along the edge of her glass, pursed her lips, and thrummed the fingers of her other hand along the table. “So, where did Evan grow up?”
I drew a noncommittal smile on my lips. “Where did Sven grow up?”
She blinked at that. “Oh, I don’t know. Jeez, we don’t talk about that sort of thing. I mean, he’s been around, of course. Started in Miami, I think, then out in Vegas.” Her words seemed rushed, as if I’d caused her to deviate from her script and she had to fill the time while she figured out a new approach.
I nodded my head encouraging. “I imagine that’s how many musicians live. Where does he plan to move on to next?”
Her voice slid up a key, adding a tightness. “Next? Sheesh, I don’t know. He could go anywhere. He’s a free spirit. Rambles on, sings his song, you know, that kind of thing.”
I templed my fingers. “Indeed.”
Her lips pursed into a petulant curl. “Wait, why are you asking questions about Sven? I’m asking questions about Evan.”
I raised an eyebrow innocently. “I’m so sorry, were you? Why?”
A flicker of something danced behind her eyes, but she grabbed up her drink and took a long swallow. Her voice was a half growl. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
I gave a soft shrug. “Evan and I really haven’t talked that much about it,” I offered. “Seems like you’re in the same boat. Must just be the way musicians are.”
Her shoulders slumped, but she rallied. “I think we should both find out, Mandy! It’ll be fun. You find out all the details from Evan, and then I’ll ask Sven when it’s my turn. It’ll be like our own little game!”
I tilted my head, looking at her. “So you want to play games?”
She grinned, fresh enthusiasm coming into her eyes. “Do I ever! So, play with me, Amanda?”
I nodded, my resolution firming within me. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 6
I stood before the closed doors to the Stardust Theater, my throat closing up. I was loyal to Kayla, but things were going too far, were sliding down into a darkness I just didn’t understand. Besides, Kayla was a hollow mouthpiece in this scene. It was Sven behind her, filling her with words, looking to extract information from me.
Evan deserved to know.
I approached the large wall sign which promoted the upcoming show for Wednesday evening, our first full day at sea on our return home to Boston. It was all moving so quickly. I reined in the burst of nervousness which flared through me.
Evan would know what to do.
The key card was right where he’d said it would be, behind the sign. I took it and then went up to the door, testing the handle. It was, indeed, locked. I popped the key card into the slot, a tiny LED glowed green, and the handle turned beneath my grip.
The room again impressed me with its dark depths, like a temple dedicated to serene meditation. The door clicked shut behind me, locking again, and I stepped forward. I carefully made my way through the shadows along to the stairs, and then up to the balcony.
Evan’s shape coiled in his curved bench, his eyes glowing in the dim light, his expression hidden.
His voice was low and steady, and I could hear the tension underlying it. “Have you convinced Kayla to disembark with you in Boston?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not why I’ve come. It’s Sven. He’s asking questions about you.”
He was on his feet before I finished speaking, coming over to stand before me. His face was tense with concern, and his hand flashed to hold my arm. “God, Amanda, where did he corner you?”
I put my hands up to his arms to reassure him. “No, no, not in person. He’s feeding the questions through Kayla. But I know they’re coming from him.”
Relief coursed through him, relaxing his shoulders, easing the tension in his eyes. “Thank God.”
“It’s still not good,” I pointed out. “She asked where you’d grown up and what other job you held in Boston.”
His body stilled. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I promised him. “I deflected her questions and explained that we hadn’t talked much about those sorts of things.”
He gave a short shake of his head, moving back to sit down on the bench. His voice was tight when he spoke again. “Amanda, I wanted you off the ship in Bermuda. I wanted you away from this all. You were supposed to be in that ocean-side hotel, where you’d be safe.”
I dropped to sit at his side. “And instead I’m here, of my own volition,” I responded evenly. “I will do my best to protect Kayla. Hopefully I can convince her to remain in Boston with me once we land.” I gave a wry smile. “I’m sure I can take a few days of Sven’s reindeer games.”
He looked up at me. “Amanda, Sven isn’t someone to play around with.”
“I know,” I reassured him. “But I know how Kayla operates. She’s a bartender.
She’ll gently wheedle at me, trying to pry out information. Maybe I can use those conversations to my advantage, to get her to think more of those same questions about Sven. Maybe that will be what wakes her up out of this snake-charming she’s lost in.”
Evan’s gaze held mine. “This is serious, Amanda. These are dangerous men.”
My chest constricted around my heart. “And you’re deep in the middle of it all, Evan.”
His steady focus didn’t change. “I can take care of myself. Don’t you worry about that.”
I looked up into those warm eyes, eyes which had seen into the depths of my soul, and all of a sudden intense fear flooded through me. I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him, and his own came up automatically to hold me close. My throat was nearly choked closed when I spoke.
“God, Evan, I know what you’re doing. There must be some other way.”
There was a long pause, and when he spoke his voice was low, almost cautious. “You know what, Amanda?”
I burrowed my head in against the safety of his muscled chest. “That you’re faking your heroin use. That you’re trying to fit in, to make it through the next two months despite all the band is involved in. To ride out your contract and to make it home to a fresh start.” I pulled him even tighter, melding myself to him. “Don’t do it, Evan! Ask to transfer to another ship! Even if you are just a bartender there, it’s not worth it to stay. There’s too much danger!”
The pause was longer this time, and then his lips pressed tenderly, gently, against my forehead. “God, Amanda, you are a miracle. You are exactly what I have dreamt of.”
I raised my head to look up at him. “Then you’ll do it?”
His eyes were a swirl of emotion, of longing and desire and I couldn’t name what else. He raised a hand to gently trace it down my cheek. “I would do so much for you, Amanda. But this, I cannot. I will ride out my time here, and then it will be done. You have to trust in me.”
I could barely get the words out. “But Evan –”
His lips brushed mine. “Trust in me.”
I groaned at the contact, at the rich, soul-encompassing power of it. The briefest of touches, and it was as if a massive gong had been struck within my core, sending its shimmerings of resonation out throughout my body. I leant forward, returning his kiss, first with the flutter of a butterfly, then deeper, opening myself fully to him.
He groaned, pulling me astride him, his mouth hard on mine, his tongue tantalizing me, bringing every inch of my body into flowering life. His hands slid down my length to the hem of my violet dress, and in a moment he was sliding it up my torso, bringing it over my breasts and up over my head. He tossed it over on the next bench.
I tugged at his t-shirt, and he moved his arms up so I could yank it up off his body. The sight of his rippled muscles in the shadows made my mouth go dry.
His hand twined into my hair, pulling my head back, and his mouth descended to my bared neck, to suck at the sensitive skin there. I arched against him, my nipples hardening, my sex flushing with hot sensation. I wanted him with every breath in my body.
His lips traced down my neck, searing a path down the top of my breast, to the edge of the lacy bra. His tongue danced beneath it, and I moaned at the sensation. Cool air tickled at my exposed abdomen, against the length of my legs, and it flared me into higher levels of desire.
He eased me to my feet, then stood alongside me, dropping his hands to his belt. His eyes glowed as he slowly, deliberately undid the buckle, and my heart pounded with every movement of his fingers. At last it was loose. Then he slid the zipper down, the bulge beneath readily apparent. He slid the pants down the length of his legs, stepping out of them.
God, the man was magnificent. I truly believed he could get through anything life had to throw at him.
He came up to me, then put his hands on my hips. He gently turned me around so I was up against the waist-high, sturdy wrought-iron railing which lined the edge of the balcony. My hands automatically came up to rest on it.
His voice was a murmur in my ear. “You are my Juliet. My sweet Juliet on a balcony. Imagine the seats below us full of eager fans, all waiting to watch the scene.”
The room was shadows and shapes, and I almost could see them, could see the forms within each seat.
His hand slid along my waist, up to my breast, dancing along the outside of the bra. His finger flicked over the fabric-covered nipple.
I moaned in agonized pleasure.
He chuckled low in my ear. “You’ll have to be louder, dearest Juliet. They won’t be able to hear you.”
His hand strayed higher, thumb and forefinger coming on either side of the peaked nipple. He gave a firm squeeze.
My moan was ragged, and I heard an echo come from the back wall.
A rich smile lit his voice. “Ahhh, there we go. You have to let it flow from you. Let it …”
His other hand delved within my panties, curling to press into my soaked depths.
I staggered against the railing, my cry swelling from deep within me, and his cock pressed hard against me, tantalizing me.
His hands both came up to my back. His voice thickened with emotion. “Let’s show the audience your body, one of the most stunning on this ship. Let’s allow them to feast on your beauty.”
A deft move of his finger, and the tension at my back released. He brought his hands around to cup my breasts, then whispered in my ear, “slide your arms out of the straps.”
I gave my shoulders a wiggle and drew my arms up. He released his hands slightly so the bra fell free, with his fingers remaining as a living shield between me and the mystical crowds beneath. And then he slowly spread his fingers. My nipples, hard and hot, shone through like beacons.
He groaned in my ear. “They are spellbound by you,” he murmured. “They want you; they want to be you. All that you are, they long for it.” He squeezed in and up with his hands, then released them so my breasts hung free in the open air. “You are glorious, Amanda. Let your beauty shine.”
It felt as if my entire body were glowing, were soaking in the attention of hundreds of eyes. I had never felt anything like it before.
“Show them everything, my love. Every inch of you.”
I could almost feel the eyes on me, the heated anticipation, as I brought my hands to my hips. I slid the fabric of my panties down over the curve of my buttocks, and my breasts touched the cool metal of the railing as I eased them to the floor. The sensation caught my breath.
Evan’s groan was louder, and it echoed back from the far walls, making it seem the room was alive, was watching and wanting.
There was a sliding noise behind me, and when Evan’s cock next pressed against me, there was no fabric separating us. His hands came up to my breasts, holding them, pressing them in, and my groan was a wordless cry which filled the room.
“My Juliet, my dearest Juliet, you are beyond compare. When I’m with you, I can barely think straight. When I’m away from you, the only thought reverberating in my brain is that I need to get back to you again. You are my sun, my -”
One hand slid down, delved into my core, and a deep groan of pleasure shuddered out of me, echoing around us.
His voice surrounded me. “Bend over for me, baby. Show your beautiful breasts to every person here.”
My breasts were glowing with heat, full with desire, and I obeyed, arching my hips back into him.
The sound of foil, and then the gentlest pressure against my opening, teasing me. His voice was hoarse. “Tell the audience what you want.”
I could barely get the words out, so thick was the pleasure which pummelled me from every side. “I want you.”
He nudged in slightly. “How much of me do you want?”
“All of you,” I groaned louder, my heart pounding, audible to the furthest seats. “I want every inch of you.”
His hands settled on my hips, his fingers pressing in. “You want all of me?”
I arched back against him. “God
, yes, all of you. Every ounce of you. Every cell, every breath, every last moment, I want … I want …”
His voice took on a new note, one of searing honesty, and it nearly ripped me apart. “And you’ll wait for me?”
I was somewhere beyond desire, into a realm I hadn’t known existed. “I’ll wait, I’ll wait, but not now, not … please … please …”
His voice was a half groan, half cry, and it reached the furthest corners of the massive theater. “You’ll wait for this.”
He plunged into me, hard, deep, filling me completely, and my cry billowed around me, surrounding me, encompassing me with its soul-searing sensation. I had no name for it, so lost was I in the moment, in the immediate now of a space between all time. And then he moved and it was a fresh now, one of infinitely more sensation, and then he was even deeper, even more perfectly coalesced with the essence of us.
Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set Page 12
