Out Too Farr

by Stein, Andrea K.

  “I’m pretty sure we’re alone for now, but no, we’re not the first.”

  “What’s in the cans?” Moj asked.

  “Looks like high-octane gas…”

  “…like small airplanes use.” He finished her sentence. Moj grinned at the surprised look she flashed him. “That’s right, Ms. Secret Agent Woman. Ol’ Moj got some moves of his own.”

  She colored and then asked, “You a pilot?”

  “Kinda. Been taking lessons here and there whenever I get a free day, but I still haven’t tested for my license.”

  “Good to know,” she said.

  “Should we take the fuel with us?” he asked.

  “No, not unless you want to lug these cans back through the brush to our camp.”

  “Our camp?” he said, and gave her an odd look.

  “The camp we need to get back to and piece together right now before the sun gets any lower in the sky,” Rania said, squinting up through the leafy canopy.

  “What about water?”

  “If I’m right, I’ll bet it’s through here. We’re almost to what looks like the highest point on this little island,” she said, and pushed her way through a pair of palm trees leaning against each other, like sisters.

  There was a small clearing beyond the palms that definitely looked man-made to her practiced eyes. Not only was there a freshwater spring, but someone had installed a hand pump. Not the sign of a deserted island.

  Someone must own this place. And she got the creepy feeling they wouldn’t appreciate company. And speaking of creepy, she hadn’t even brought along one of the guns from the case. Some protector she’d turned out to be.

  Before she could apologize to Moj for being a complete screw-up as a guard, he kissed the top of her head. “I know what’s going through that kamikaze head of yours, and you need to stop. Right now.”

  He turned her to face him and added, “We’re in this together. There’s no way you could have foreseen any of this craziness, let alone prevented it.” He craned his neck upward and said, “You’re right. We need to figure out how to carry some water and head back. Maybe we could weave some leaves together, and then…”

  Rania’s heart did a little jig. This man had turned out to be nothing she’d expected. Her experience with celebrities had not been good, but Moj adapted to adversity like a duck to water. After his serious suggestion to weave leaves together, she didn’t just want to take him down and do wild, passionate things to him.

  She could almost fall in love with this guy. Almost.

  She grinned and fished two folded pieces of plastic from her bag, snapping them to full size. When she waved the cubes back and forth in front of her, they filled with air. Water carriers.

  * * *

  Moj hefted his gallon-and-a-half jug of water and took the lead going back to their “camp.” After about a half-hour of sweating their way through the jungle growth, he wondered why he’d ever thought a jug of water would be easy to carry. At least the path they’d beaten through to get to the freshwater well was easier when they traced their steps back. Rania had done the hard slashing work.

  Now that she was bringing up the rear, he missed watching her swaying hips and occasional deep bends to cut an especially tough vine. He wondered if she knew how every little move she made ratcheted up his need for her.

  Slow down, he thought. Don’t let your imagination run away with you.

  It was only a matter of a few days at most before someone found them. Being stuck on a little slice of heaven with a gorgeous woman like Rania would make any man’s thoughts run wild.

  He stopped at a place where the path wasn’t especially clear and assessed a possible second path at what looked like a “Y.”

  Rania ended up against his back and put her arms around him. “A piastre for your thoughts,” she whispered.

  He was amazed at how well her whisper carried in the desolate jungle once they stopped thrashing along the path.

  He whipped around and socked his water jug onto the ground before taking her up in his arms for a long kiss and then letting her slide down and feel for herself where his thoughts had centered all day.

  She gave him a cat-like smile and made a little sound in her throat like purring.

  “Once I get back from running re-con, I will take care of that. I promise you.”

  “Re-con?” Moj didn’t like the sound of that.

  They quick-stepped the rest of the way back to the beach.

  Rania retrieved her guns from the case.

  “I’ll be right back. If you want, you can build the camp. I want to make sure we are alone.”

  “I’ll make it the fastest camp-building exercise in history.”

  “And I can run very quickly.” With that, she raced away into the jungle.

  Moj gathered dead branches from the ground edging the beach. He built a simple lean-to against a large boulder with just enough room for two. He listened carefully, but didn’t hear gunshots, cries of panic, or any sign of trouble. Thank all that was good in the world. He didn’t want anyone interrupting them.

  She had promised to take care of him; she’d be the first since Fiona passed.

  Speaking of which, Moj’s hand went to his throat. The chain with his and Fiona’s wedding rings was gone.

  His heart came to a shuddering stop in his chest. He remembered the chain pulling on the gun case, but he hadn’t thought much of it. Now the necklace and the rings were at the bottom of the Indian Ocean.

  The pain was sharp, but then he remembered Fiona asking him to love again. And could he have worn the necklace when he made love to Rania? No, the necklace had been taken away at the perfect moment, almost as if Fiona had planned it all.

  He lifted his eyes to the darkening sky.

  “I get what you are saying, Fiona,” he murmured. “I can let you go. And I can be with Rania. Thanks for that.”

  Still no sign of his Egyptian bodyguard. He was getting worried. If there was trouble, he would need to take care of her. Why hadn’t he gone with her?

  He glanced over at the lean-to. They needed a bed. He climbed one of the coconut palm trees with a sharp knife and lobbed down broad leaves they could layer into a crude mattress. A house, a bed, and dinner — he chopped off several of the fruit and let them clatter to the ground.

  Rania had jogged out of the jungle by the time he slid back down. Sweaty, she still wore only the little black bikini.

  “It’s safe, Moj. We are alone. I couldn’t search everywhere, but I’m fairly certain there’s no one on this island but us.”

  Moj smiled like it was Christmas.

  “That is great news. And you are so beautiful.”

  She waved a hand over her face. “Really? I feel like a total mess.”

  “You’re the farthest thing from it, tesoro.”

  The sun had dipped below the horizon, but the clouds were putting on a show. Burning golds swirled with fiery orange and red.

  Rania’s body in the dusk was one beautiful, unblemished canvas. A canvas he wanted to claim and paint their story across. He tried not to stare but failed.

  “I can’t believe you speak Italian,” she said quietly. “Tesoro means ‘my treasure,’ I think.”

  “It does.” He wanted to say more, in any language, but he became so tongue-tied all he could say was, “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, but not for those right now.” She toed the coconuts away and entwined her fingers in his.

  Her touch loosened his tongue. “Rania, I want to take care of you. I want us to be together. It’s been so long since I’ve felt…”

  Rania put a finger over his lips.

  “Shhhh, Albi, we have all night to explore what we mean to each other.”

  “Albi?”

  Rania brought his hand up to kiss it.

  “It’s Arabic, for my heart. And I feel it, too. I’ve felt it since the first time I saw you on stage.”

  Without another word, she led him into the lean-to.

&nb
sp; CHAPTER NINE

  Inside the shelter, Rania let Moj envelop her, let him cover her body with his. She felt his desire immediately, pressing against her thigh. She moved only a few inches and gasped when he shifted onto her, directly between her legs. Only their thin bathing suits separated them.

  He gazed down into her face, but she couldn’t see his features clearly. Suddenly, their lean-to felt very enclosed and dark. She wanted to memorize him, his lips, his eyes, the curve of his bicep, the taut muscles of his chest and abs. For that, she needed more light.

  But first, a kiss.

  Gripping him by the back of his head, she drew his face closer, closer, closer, until his soft lips pressed into hers, and he took in a sharp breath. Her pounding heart throbbed in her temples. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t need breath. She needed his kiss.

  His mouth covered hers, and then his tongue, tentatively, then playfully, caressing hers. She moaned, and her hands left his head to grasp his rock-hard ass, so firm, so smooth. She pushed herself up at him.

  Part of her was ashamed she could be so bold, but another part was thrilled. And this big man pressing against her clit felt like heaven. The smell of him, the scent of the ocean, the distant memory of his aftershave, made her clutch him harder.

  She drifted off into the sensations and the kiss for a minute, letting the world slide away until he sat up abruptly.

  “Damn, Rania,” Moj whispered.

  “It’s too dark in here,” she said. “Let’s go outside.”

  Moj scooted out of the lean-to, and then offered a hand to help her out. They stood with the sky on fire above them and the waves lapping at the soft sand. The tangle of jungle greenery was lost in shadows.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked.

  Rania listened. All she could hear was the gentle lull of the sea. A bird called out. But she knew what he meant.

  “Yes, it’s the sound of us alone on an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.”

  “We’re alone.” Moj’s gaze never left her face. “We can do what we want. What do you want?”

  “To look at you,” Rania murmured. She stared into the power of his eyes, long, thick eyelashes, his irises such a golden brown.

  “To kiss you.” Rania again took him in her arms, feeling so small compared with the strength of his muscles. His lips brushed hers, but she didn’t want gentle. She wanted a hard, wet kiss. She was surprised at her own growl. She latched onto him; his tongue found hers again until she broke the kiss.

  “And for you to see me.” She moved his hand to cup one of her breasts.

  Moj smiled at her, his teeth straight and white. He pulled her arms over her head and slid her bikini top over the rise of her breasts. They fell loose, her brown nipples hard, ready for his mouth.

  He flipped the top away. Her eyes glanced down to his swim trunks and the evidence of his excitement.

  She kissed him again and pressed her breasts to his chest, skin on skin.

  His lips moved from her mouth, to her jawline, and then to her neck, brushing the soft skin with his lips, then licking.

  She wanted to shove his face into her chest, but she controlled herself. She applied pressure to his shoulders to give him a hint.

  Instead of complying, he said in a husky voice, “Tell me what you want.”

  Could she? She’d never been very vocal during sex, but she felt daring. How many times would she be with such a beautiful man, on a deserted island, as the sun set in the sky?

  “My nipples,” Rania said in a trembling voice. “I want you to suck on my nipples.”

  “I’d love to.” Moj kissed her again, wet, uncontrollable, and then dropped his head to her sensitive breasts, first the left, then the right. He was gentle, loving, as he sucked. He knew what he was doing. A lot of guys were too rough when passion seized them, but not him.

  He knelt before her.

  She looked down and saw the heat in his face, the magic in his eyes. The sunset danced across his skin.

  “Do you want to show me all of you?” he asked.

  Rania nodded.

  “Tell me,” Moj whispered. “Say it.” He rested his hands on her thighs. Her bikini bottoms weren’t very big, but they covered her sex. And she knew he wanted to see her as much as she wanted to show him.

  Her breath caught in her throat. “I want to show you everything.” Her hands went to the strings of the bikini bottoms and she drew them aside. The thin piece of fabric dropped revealing her at her most vulnerable.

  She kept her pubic hair clipped, but she wasn’t shaved. He focused on the black triangle between her legs.

  Rania grew more daring and slowly shifted her body weight, opening her legs, and when Moj let out a long breath, she felt sexy and victorious.

  She knew what was coming. He slowly, achingly, leaned his head forward until he was kissing her pubic hair. He slid his face against one thigh, then the next, breathing her scent in.

  “You want me to say what I really want?” Rania asked.

  “I do.” Moj knelt before her. His hands cupped her ass cheeks and then moved to lightly scratch her lower back.

  “I want you to lick me,” Rania said. The words felt so forbidden, so dangerous, she nearly came saying them.

  Moj shifted until he was sitting in the sand.

  “Give it to me, tesoro. Straddle me, and give it to me, and I’ll taste you. It’s what I’ve wanted since we first met.”

  Rania raised a leg over him and then settled herself down onto his mouth.

  He started slowly, licking the very bottom of her vulva, then up her lips, until his tongue found her clit.

  She shivered and gasped.

  He made the trip again, going slowly, exploring her with his tongue. He steadied himself on the beach with one hand. The other caressed the cheeks of her butt.

  Red light shadowed the jungle beyond the glowing beach. If they weren’t alone, she didn’t care.

  She pressed herself harder against him.

  He sucked on her clit gently, and she felt it, felt the orgasm start.

  “I’m coming,” she breathed. He wanted her to talk, and she’d talk. “I’m coming so hard.”

  Her orgasm overtook her and the waves of pleasure crashed through her body. For the first time in her life, she screamed in absolute ecstasy.

  * * *

  Moj was so hard it hurt. But he was determined to focus on the goddess above him. He felt her orgasm and was surprised when she warned him she was coming. Even more surprising was her loud gasping yell at the very height of her bliss.

  Her legs started to shake, and he eased her down, until she rested her head on his chest, both of them cupped by the sand still warm from the day’s heat. The red in the sky had been pushed by the night to the very edge of the western horizon. The stars above them winked on. So close to the equator, it wasn’t going to get cold. Equatorial temperatures never ventured very far from eighty degrees Fahrenheit.

  “I was so loud,” Rania whispered. “And I said so much. I normally don’t talk. I want to, but I get shy.”

  “I felt that,” Moj said. He stroked her hair, a little rough from the sea, but still so nice. Her body was warm, lithe and perfect. “You don’t have to be shy with me.”

  Rania raised her head. “Because you’ve been with so many women? I can’t imagine how many. You’re famous in the music industry. I’ve seen how women throw themselves at men like you.”

  Moj cupped a hand over Rania’s head and caressed her cheek with his thumb, skin as soft as a kitten’s belly.

  “I won’t lie. At first, it was like that, and I was young and stupid. I thought love and sex were the same thing for a while, but deep down, I wanted more. I wanted one woman I could take care of. That’s how it’s meant to be. Playing around gets old and empty quick.”

  He saw the doubt in her eyes.

  “I know, I know,” Moj said. “It sounds like a line. It’s not. Honest truth. I don’t go after just anyone, and I don’t do this
with just anyone. It wasn’t special to me back then, but now it is. Real special.”

  Rania shifted more to her side and slid her hand down his belly toward the erection tenting his swim shorts.

  “I don’t see how it could get more special than this,” Rania said. “It’s like the fantasies I had when I was young. I wasn’t supposed to have sex until I was married. But I’d have dreams of being lost on an island with a hot guy, and the rules wouldn’t apply to us. Like now. The rules don’t apply. You’re not a world-famous celebrity, and I’m more than just a ship’s engineer.”

  “A lot more,” Moj whispered. His heart kickstarted into an urgent beat in his chest. “You’re a badass.”

  “Total badass.” Rania giggled, and Moj died at the sound of her joy. “I can do so much with these hands.”

  “I’ll bet.” Moj raised his hips as her hand went lower, slipping down his smooth belly and underneath his swim trunks. Her strong fingers circled his wet cock, and she stroked him.

  “You showed me yours,” Moj said. “Now I want to show you mine.”

  He lifted up and pushed the swimsuit down. She moved away and helped him strip naked.

  And there he was, in the warm night, starlight gleaming on the muscles of his body and the straining of his cock.

  “It’s wonderful,” Rania said.

  Some sand had somehow gotten into the mix, and he stopped her hand. “Uh oh, got a little rough there.”

  She stood up, delicious in her nudity. “I can help you wash off a little. Sex on the beach can be a little sandy, but totally worth it.”

  She turned.

  Moj couldn’t stop looking at the hourglass curves of her hips, the dimples in the small of the her back, the graceful movement of the muscles in her ass as she walked into the shallow water. She turned, and showed him her breasts, high on her chest above her flat belly and her strong, shapely thighs.

  Moj laughed. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a woman more beautiful.

  She grinned. “Come on, Albi. I’m not finished with you.”

  Moj went to her, into the water, as warm as the night air.

  She kissed him, and her hand seized him again, gripping him with the right amount of pressure. All the sand was gone. He groaned into her mouth, tasting her, smelling her. He wanted to live forever in her animal scent.