by L. B. Dunbar
Falling forward, her body covered mine. Her head came to my chest and my fingers combed through the damp streaks. She rolled so her mouth covered my left pec, and she kissed me there. I remembered the first time she did that. This time she lingered like before, and I wondered what she whispered to me, silently praying it was words I longed to hear again.
16
Juliet
I didn’t know where the sudden rush of desire came from, but it gnawed at me, telling me to take him.
The power lies within you. It was as if the island spoke to me, encouraging me to take from him, and then he told me the same thing.
Take what you need. Take everything. I wanted it all from him, and I didn’t even know what that would include. My lips pressed to his chest, my mouth infusing the words—I love you—directly into his heart. I didn’t think he was ready for such emotion after such a short time. We’d only been reunited for three days. It wasn’t like he was asking for a lifetime.
With that thought, I released him slowly, removing my lips from his damp chest and sitting up. He slipped out of me, and his moisture seeped from my core. He could have gotten me pregnant. I hadn’t given it a thought when we were on the island before. He’d had no need of condoms, not expecting a woman to be on the island with him. When we did make love, I never considered it, until I missed my period. It was another reason I had gone to see him at Corbin Industries.
I looked down at him, under me. His eyes had closed, and his chest heaved. I had no idea what type of father he’d be. It hadn’t mattered. My period was simply late, an adjustment to the return to civilization. I’d been taking pills to stave off the flow, like they give women in the military, and my body hadn’t adjusted to the end of the supply. This time, we had no preventative protection.
“Baby, you okay?” he asked, snapping me out of my reverie.
“I’m exhausted,” I laughed, surprised at my lack of endurance for sex. Suddenly, I was drained, as if all the blood leaked out of me. He sat up and tugged me to him, holding me pressed against his chest. A strange tension floated around us, as if there were words to be said, but couldn’t be formed yet. He kissed my shoulder.
“How about some sustenance?” he muttered, and I giggled into his neck at the formality of the words. The tension dissipated and I slipped off of him.
“I need a shower.” The statement hung between us, and we both laughed. There was no shower here. This was not a resort. This island had been redemption, and it would be it again.
“How about a dip?” He nodded toward the water, and I followed his nakedness as he sprinted for the salty sea. Eventually, he dove like an expert, disappearing under the darkening water as evening had taken over. Darkness was coming, and I noted the midnight blue chasing the lighter-colored sky. It had been a long time since I’d noticed the sky as much as I had the past few nights.
Unlike Tack, I simply walked into the water and lowered to my shoulders, tipping my head back to wet my sweat-laden hair and rinse it in the sea. The salt would cling to us as we dried, but the water was refreshing after rolling in the sand, sweaty bodies attached to one another. I had a strange sensation that something was watching me, but the feeling disappeared when Tack popped out of the water before me. Reaching for my jaw, he tugged me to him, kissing me before playfully dunking me in the water.
17
The Island smells your fear
They’d consummated their love again, joining their bodies as one, but left the words unspoken. She was troubled by the silence, but she playfully ignored it. The water washed over them, salty and rejuvenating, a baptism of sorts that cleansed them both. The past drifted away, though not entirely forgotten. How could she explain she’d fallen for a man who tried to assault her? It wasn’t something she could say as way of introduction.
He almost raped me, but he didn’t.
Then he burned the building where it happened.
She was confused by his gesture.
She wondered what they were doing on the island. What was the benefit of returning here? Confusion consumed her when they first arrived. She could do nothing but stare, numb at the extravagant display of his wealth. The larger tent, the elaborate dining table, and the expensive chairs spoke as if they were at a resort instead of an island that had been their banishment.
She’d wanted freedom when she first came here, she had told him. She longed for independence. How things had changed, she thought.
One night, everything was stripped away.
Another night, a promise of something more stitched her back together.
Redemption was about a second chance. Was she on the island for another chance with him? Could they recapture what they had or were they only here to finish what they started—seeking absolution?
It had only been one night. Two years had passed. The thought struck her. The date had to be near the anniversary of her first coming to the island.
Oh, the irony, she thought. One night took, one night gave.
He’d been asking. He didn’t want to take. He wanted permission.
But what did she want?
The answer was as clear as the water surrounding her. He swam before her, playfully acting as if he were a fish. He was different here.
Here made him better.
Here made her stronger.
But here wasn’t where they could live, and she knew that. She wiped a hand through her wet hair and laughed in response to him. Her laughter ruffled the leaves as it joined with the breeze. She hadn’t laughed in a long time, and happiness rippled through her, unfamiliar but welcome. It felt good to laugh, just like it felt good to let him in. Her body recognized him, relished in the firmness of him. She already wanted a second round.
A second chance.
I want someone to care about me, she’d told him in the past. Some things did not change. The island stood as witness and watched. She felt it speak to her.
Take what you want, the water whispered to her. Let this be your chance.
18
Juliet
After we swam, he made us grilled fish and vegetables over a small Hibachi. This at least felt familiar. I refused the formal seat at the table, telling him we should make a picnic of it, spreading the table cloth over the sand by the fire. He’d given me a moment of privacy after we swam and I draped myself in a towel. He wore the same thing wrapped around his hips, and we laughed at how native we’d become. Again, it felt good to laugh.
He fed me off his fork. I fed him with my fingers. It was romantic in its own way, not the forced way he originally intended. After cleaning up the dishes, we sat by the fire with our own thoughts. He’d taken a blanket and wrapped it around us. We still wore only our towel-dressings. The night chattered as it had before with birds chirping, the ocean gently lapping, and the breeze rustling the leaves. It was peaceful, like my heart at the moment.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked.
“How things change.” I paused. “I feel like the island recognizes me. It’s telling me things, but I don’t understand their meaning. Silly, right?”
“Garvey would say you are one with nature.”
“Explain Colton, his son, to me. I thought you disliked him.”
“I learned that Garvey was instrumental in getting me into restorative justice. His grandfather and my great-grandfather had some kind of understanding. When he learned I was in trouble, he went to my father. His son had gone through this process. I asked Garvey about the experiment.”
“Was he involved?” I asked, shifting to look up at him from my position between his thighs.
“He wasn’t. I should have known better. He believes this island is sacred. He trusts in his cultural heritage. He believed I was here alone, but he also recognized that finding you here was a sign. Nature speaking, in some way.”
“So you believe it? Getting in touch with nature and everything?”
“Can't get any more one with nature than eating dinner nearly naked,” he replied playfully
, his finger tugging at my hair. I laughed in response and silence slipped between us again. My thoughts turned serious.
“So many things I'm sorry for,” I said, my voice low.
“Me too,” he said swiping back his hair. He looked more like I remembered. Not so polished. “Trusting Rick. Being a dick. So many things I can't take back.”
“You still feel responsible for me, don’t you?” The question made me sad.
“I feel love for you.”
I spun to face him, my eyes searching his.
I still love you, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I couldn’t explain why I still held back.
“Come inside the tent,” I said instead. I stood and stalked to the canvas structure, his presence following me as he moved from his seat by the fire. Just inside the flaps, I removed my towel. Slowly, stepping forward, I lowered and kneeled onto the mattress. It was lusher than his original one. A thick blanket softened the edges.
“And the vixen has returned,” he muttered directly behind me, having caught up to me.
Crawling forward on the bed, my bare ass exposed to him, he grabbed my ankle, halting me in the position.
“I want to have you my way. Can you trust me?”
I looked at him over my shoulder, my hair loose and tucked to one side around my neck. The truth was I did trust him, but I couldn’t explain it any more than my love for him. I nodded instead.
“Stretch forward, reach for the edge of the mattress.” The command made me wet, heat rose between my thighs. I did as he asked. Reaching forward like a lazy cat, my fingers found the edge of the mattress.
“Lift your hips.”
I purred in response, not recognizing my own noises. Firm hands caressed my ass, a warm massage to the cool skin.
“I won't ever tie you up again unless you ask me. And we'll stop if it's too intense.” His voice was husky, his attention focused on spreading the globes of my behind apart and gripping my hips. My heart raced with the possibility. I didn’t know if I could handle him going there.
“We'll play this my way.” The phrase made me catch my breath, and he rubbed a hand up my spine to calm my fears. “Blink can be our safe word.” On instinct, I blinked without responding verbally.
He smoothed over tender skin and my hips shifted, following the warmth of his palm. He smacked me once, and I yelped, and then he slammed into me without warning. I shifted forward with the fierce thrust, then curled back against him, drawing him deeper. My fingertips dug into the edge of the mattress. I purred again.
“Like that, baby,” he muttered, his voice choppy as he hammered into me. Our skin slapped together, the slick sound of moisture working between us. He held my hips for stability and then reached around my abdomen, lowering for that sacred spot near my core. His finger circled as his dick filled me with sharp thrusts, his tip hitting a spot that triggered an instant response. I screamed, pressing back against him, holding him deep inside me.
“That’s my Mouse,” his voice hissed, harsh and rushed. He leaned forward, and cupped both my breasts, using them as leverage to force me against him. “Another one,” he whispered into my shoulder blade and the tension built again. He tweaked my nipples, twirling them with his finger and thumb. He tugged them forward, pinching hard. I crashed again with a low animalistic growl.
He grunted behind me, setting himself upright. The slapping sound continued. He pressed inward, hitting the same sensitive spot again. A fluttering rumbled, a tickle of promise, but I thought it might take too long to reach another orgasm. I sensed him tightening.
“One more,” he strained.
“Can’t,” I exhaled, my breaths coming in short rasps.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and I did as he said, leaving one hand wrapped around the mattress, the other scrambling for my clit. I felt him drawing in and out of me, the firm ridges of him gracing the edge of my knuckles as I touched myself.
“Tack!” I screamed, overwhelmed with the sensation, the animalistic ritual of mating like this, and the pure euphoria of another orgasm. He pressed me forward as he stilled and washed the inside of me with the pressure of his release. His palm forced me flat, and he collapsed over me, his head reaching the pillow next to mine.
“You okay, baby?” he asked with a rasping voice, gasping for air. I nodded. I had no words.
He withdrew and returned with something to clean me. I was sticky and sweaty but didn’t have the energy to move. Tack climbed up next to me and pulled me to him. He kissed my forehead.
“Remember that discussion we had about dominants and submissives?”
I snorted in response.
“If you had to research that topic, based on what we just did, what would you think?”
It was strange to think he recalled those early, ignorant questions.
“Still think the female dominates because it's her call. She hands her power to you.” My heart pinched that he still might want those things. We hadn’t discussed the club and its outcome, other than him burning it to the ground.
“Is that what you did just now? Gave me power over you?”
I hesitated before I responded.
“I gave you my heart. That means you have power over me.” My voice was low as I spoke, not looking up at him, but aiming the words over his chest. His fingers had been scratching lightly up my back, but they froze with my words. He didn’t respond, and I worried I’d admitted too much. His chest rose and fell, and I assumed he yawned.
“I think you broke me, baby.”
I twisted to look up at him, finding his eyes already closed.
“Did I hurt you?” I wondered, sensing the soreness in my own body.
“Only when you left me, Mouse. Only when you left me.”
+ +
That night, I woke from the heat. Tack only shifted away from me as I moved from under his arm. Slipping from the bed, I found my way to the edge of the beach. I’d returned my bathing suit to my body, wanting to sit in the water and cool my thoughts. My body tingled with all the things he’d done to me. My heart raced with every sweet word he said. I didn’t want our time on the island to end, but I knew it would.
We’d had a time limit before.
We were supposed to complete a year. Instead, it had been cut short, and I thought back to when I learned what Lillian had done.
“We could see you were developing feelings for him. That wasn’t what we thought would happen.”
How could they have known, I remembered thinking. Hidden camera was my answer. She’d been watching me until the snake dislodged the first one. They installed a second one when she returned at the end of the first month. Discovering I had been sick worried Lillian, but the experiment must continue, she decided. What a fool I’d been to trust in her.
The storm knocked the second camera away, and that’s when they decided to rescue me. My death wouldn’t result in a positive field study. Falling in love with my perpetrator, as Lillian called him, wasn’t the result she expected either.
“Did you expect me to kill him?” The snarky expression Lillian gave me in response to my question hadn’t answered me. I didn’t know what she predicted. I only knew I failed. I loved him. I let him go. And even though we had returned to the island, I didn’t know how to get back to who we had been before we left.
“Hey,” Tack said, his voice groggy as he sat behind me. His legs surrounding me on either side, his hands rubbing at my shoulders. “You’re up early.”
“I was too warm,” I replied, as his lips kissed my shoulder. “Need coffee?” I questioned with a giggle.
“Need you,” he said, and the length of him pressed into my backside. I moaned. “Are you sore?”
I rolled my head against his shoulder, and he shifted his body to crawl before me. On his knees, he walked backward in the water, taking my hands in his and tugging me toward him. Without a word, he led me deeper into the morning water, calm from a night at rest, and lightening in the dawn. When we were deep enough, he removed my biki
ni bottom, slung it over his shoulder and slowly entered me. My hands braced me on the sandy bottom, the weightlessness of the water lifting me along with his arm curled around my lower back. He moved deliberately, the ocean lapping over his back gently pushing him forward, filling me with a sluggish rhythm.
“Don’t want to wake without you,” he said softly, as if not to break the silence of the early morning hour. “Where did you go?”
I’d already told him I was too warm, but he read more into my exit from the bed.
“Lost in my head,” I said, my voice hitching as he swam forward, filling me.
“Don’t think,” he said, kissing me too briefly. “Not yet.” He stilled and the pulse of him inside me let me know he’d found what he needed this morning. He lowered my back and my bottom hit the sand. He reached between us and played with that sensitive place that needed attention. He pulled out of me, and sat back, spreading my knees. His free hand pushed at the water, forcing it to lap at my tender entrance while his fingers continued to toy with me. He watched where he touched me, his concentration on pleasing me.
I came softly, the feeling washing over me as the water licked at my core. As I settled, Tack returned to brace himself over me, his arms caging me in. My knees rose around his hips as his legs floated behind him, allowing the water to support him. He kissed me sweetly, sucking at my lips.
“Don’t leave me,” he muttered, and my heart pinched. There was nowhere I wanted to go.
19
Tack
There were moments I sensed her pulling back from me. In my desperation to keep us in the present, I found myself pushing her harder, faster, than I planned for us to go. Making her come on the boat. Entering her from behind. These weren’t things I had predicted would happen, but I found being on the island heightened my need for her, increasing my desire to keep her connected to me as much as possible.
