by L. B. Dunbar
“You don’t feel safe with me?” he asked, his tone jumping an octave. “You don’t trust me? I had a hundred ways I could have taken advantage of you, but I wanted you to give them to me. One at a fucking time.” His palm slapped on his deck making me flinch. “I trusted you to give me permission.” He beat at his chest. “I believed in you because you said you loved me.”
“I…” my mouth fell open but my heart raced behind my ribs. He looked wild and broken and my heart bled for him.
“You know what, you should go. Not only from the hurricane, but if you don’t feel safe with me, leave.” His words sharp, his head turned away from me, his cheek presented as if I’d slapped him. I’d done it before. He let me fuck him silly that night. He let me control him, giving me the power, because he trusted me to never hurt him.
Don’t leave me, he’d said a million times. Now, he was telling me to go.
Him refusing to look at me made my chest clench. I spun for the door and just as I reached it, I imagined I heard a soft cry.
“Mouse.” A single word, whispered as if he didn’t mean what he said. Silence followed, and I walked forward, assuming I misheard. I was used to my imagination playing tricks on me.
+ +
I found Miller stylishly dressed in a sport coat, green shorts and a straw fedora, with his bag packed as he stood by my door.
“I’m getting off this godforsaken island,” I muttered as I shoved the door open too quickly, and it slammed on the opposite wall.
“What happened? A little cat gave you too much tongue and now you’re scampering away?” Miller stood behind me as I stalked around my room, collecting the minimal things I’d brought.
“Hilarious,” I mumbled, pushing past him for the closet. I threw my suitcase on the bed and started haphazardly filling it.
“Honestly,” Miller exhaled. “What happened?”
I briefly explained what Abby told me, and my confrontation with Tack.
“First of all, think about this. Why would he want our little slice of charity when his whole company is one big one?” In many ways, Miller was correct. Tack had no need of our company. The very philosophy of his company—finding resources to help others less fortunate—spoke of his charitability. He didn’t even need my ideas, he could simply create his own. My jewelry sales were no small potatoes, but he could educate five times the women we reached.
“Second, I’d never believe he was engaged to Barbie Abby. She’s too into herself, and he wants someone into him.” I stared at my best friend.
“He told me to leave.”
“And…” Miller was on a roll so there was no stopping him. “Do you really believe he wants to control you like that, all BDSM and shit? Collars and licking shoes and stuff? Or is it more about having your emotions? He wants you to feel something for him, which she does not.”
I paused, blinking up at my best friend.
“He’s a powerful man. He can buy whatever he wants.”
“Maybe what he wants is someone to genuinely like him, not that moneygrubbing Barbie drooling after him, or a group of loser friends daring each other to take women.”
I was holding the shampoo bottle from the hotel, but I didn’t realize I’d been unscrewing and rescrewing the cap as a nervous tick. I squeezed the container at his words, and tropical-fragranced hair cleaner spurted out, covering the front of my shirt.
“Shit.” I ran back to the bathroom, removed my shirt and dumped it on the floor.
Forget it, I thought. I don’t need that one. I slipped on another tee, zipped my bag and followed Miller to the elevator, but something nagged at me. Was Miller correct about Tack? Did he want someone to love him for him? I’d learned he didn’t like to be alone, but could that loneliness match mine? Could his loneliness be a lack of confidence? I wanted someone to care about me. Didn’t he see that I did feel that way about him?
“This hurricane business is a bit frightening,” Miller said as we entered the elevator. “It’s freaking scary, actually, but so are lots of things in life.”
I didn’t understand what he was getting at and didn’t have time for Miller-philosophy. We needed to get back to the mainland. A hurricane was scary business. I’d been through one before. The thought gave me pause. My lip twitched with the need to smile at the memory.
Miller placed a hand on my forearm.
“Etty, tell me what happened with him before today. Where were you yesterday?” His perfect eyebrow rose, and in the taxi to the airport, I explained how I’d given Tack the book, and it led to spending the night on the island again.
“It was more than I imagined,” I said. I snorted softly with the thought, letting my head fall back on the backseat. Everything about Tack and I was more than I imagined. It was a fantasy of sexual freedom, emotional control, and friendship. And love. I loved him. I hadn’t told Miller my fears, that I would lose Tack when we left the island. I hadn’t shared that I begged Tack to possess me on the bed in my resort room, wanting him to prove we could be more than the island.
“Isn’t that what love should be? More than we thought. More than we expected,” Miller wisely stated. We’d reached the airport and stood waiting for clearance for the tarmac. I turned to face Miller.
“But look at how this all began. I mean, he almost…” I let the word float away, swallowing the pain of the past. “How can that be the start to a relationship?”
“It wasn’t a start,” Miller stated, nodding to agree. “But look at the finish line, Etty. Look where the race has led.”
“It’s led to me leaving,” I blurted, shaking the bag in my fist for emphasis.
“It led to him loving you, like he should. You’ve made the choice to leave.”
“I...” I didn’t know how to respond. Had I misunderstood? I’d walked away once before, because I feared exposing Tack to Lillian would mean I’d lose him. Standing at the airport, it was only me who would lose out if I walked away. He’d been waiting for me all this time to find him. Suddenly, it occurred to me, in my fear that he’d eventually reject me, I rejected him.
“The island sees,” I muttered, wiping a hand over my forehead. “I wasn’t looking.”
“What?” Miller asked, looking at his phone.
“I didn’t pay enough attention. He said…he said…” I paused. “He said he wanted to be all I had. He didn’t want the business but wanted to give me the money to make it all I wanted.” I looked up at Miller. “He was doing to it for me.” I swallowed as I looked out at the plane, and the line of people slowly walking toward it.
“You said he felt responsible for you.”
“He does. But he also says he loves me.”
“He said that, huh?” Miller smirked, tweaking his eyebrow, smiling slowly at me as if he knew a secret. “What’s that thing about three blind mice? Oh right, see how they run.” He wiggled his fingers in the motion of walking away. “Maybe one mouse should wise up, tuck her tail between her legs, and hold her head higher? Trust in what was before her.” He tipped his chin, narrowing his eyes at me. “You have all the power, Etty. You can make whatever choice you please. The only person you need to justify it to is yourself.”
My heart raced with the thought. “Oh my God, Miller. What have I done?”
23
Tack
“I think we’re all clear, Boss,” Marco said to me to as I helped him secure the wooden hurricane panels across my office windows. We’d emptied the hotel of guests and staff. Only a few people remained, scattered here and there. We convinced most people that the window of opportunity to leave was now or accept what came next. Some visitors had lived through several hurricanes and decided to weather the storm, not wanting to cash in on their vacation insurance. A few workers stayed at the hotel, finding the higher altitude and solid structure more protective than their village homes.
“Thank you, Marco,” I said as I stepped back and found Branson entering the office.
“Is everyone on the planes?” I swallowed the
small lump in my throat. She’d left me. In my anger, I told her to go, and she did. After all that I’d learned, that she’d been forcibly removed from the island and had tried to see me at my father’s offices, I realized she’d never intended to leave me before. She’d kept her promise to find me. This time was different.
I’d been consumed with rage earlier, my arm sweeping the contents of my desk to the floor after the door clicked shut with her departure. I stepped behind it, examining the heap of papers I’d stacked on the smooth surface. My laptop and phone were thankfully not broken.
“Yes,” Branson answered. Hesitation in his voice forced me to look upward at him. His hair stood upright as if he just ran his fingers through it.
“What?” I barked.
“Where’s Juliet?” he asked, looking around the room.
“What do you mean where’s Juliet? You just said everyone boarded the planes.” My fist clenched and knocked at my desk, adrenaline slowly seeping into my veins like a junkie.
“She didn’t go.”
“What?” I shouted, slamming my fist downward.
“I was watching her, like you asked. One minute she was with Miller, and the next she was racing through the airport. I caught her just before the entrance. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she was coming back.” He paused. “She said she was coming back for you, actually.”
I slowly sat, stunned at the admission.
“So where is she?” I asked him as he stood there wondering the same thought.
“I said I’d bring her here, but she slipped away.”
“What about Miller?”
“He got on the plane.”
“Okay,” I shook my head, still processing that she hadn’t left. She was coming back for me, but where was she? The rumble of my hurricane panes reminded me of the imminent danger around us. I stood abruptly.
“We need to find her. I want this entire resort searched. Get Marco to help you if he’s still here.” I walked around my desk and headed for my own search.
My first stop was her room, finding a T-shirt on the bathroom floor covered in tropical fragrance.
“Where are you, Mouse?” I murmured to the tile, taking in the fragrance I’d had perfected to match her. I set the shirt on the sink counter and returned to the hall.
I’d been through all the main areas. The storm was coming closer, the wind careless of trees and flowers. The sky was a solid gray. I considered that I should have stayed in my office in case she returned there looking for me, but I could never have sat still, knowing she was out here trying to get to me. I’d already let her walk away once, and I should have followed then. I should have protected her from Lillian, but it hadn’t occurred to me she was in danger.
Blink, she’d said to me, and I didn’t understand at first. She didn’t feel safe with me, and it crushed me. I couldn’t think of a single time I’d threatened her or given her cause to misunderstand my intentions. Even when we were rougher, I made certain it was clear she had the power. She could stop me.
My heart leapt with hope. Had she reconsidered? Had she decided she was safe with me? There was nothing to be afraid of, if we were together. I swiped a hand through my hair as I headed for the elevator. The electricity was spotty, and although we had a generator for lights, I’d shut down the elevator. I took the front emergency stairs two at a time, noting a few people who pulled bedding into the stairwell. This was the safest place for anyone once the storm hit. I prayed it would dissipate, but a hurricane was more likely. It would cover us, wreaking havoc until the eye crossed us, if it even did. Like an everchanging sea urchin, the storm might only dust our shores then sweep on to the next island. I burst into the hall of the third floor and stalked to my office.
Where are you, Mouse? I entered my office and walked into my private suite. I quickly changed out of my suit pants and dress shirt for casual clothing. I swiped two pillows off my bed and rolled the duvet over my arms. There was a stairwell outside my offices, rarely used by general guests and staff. I decided I’d put some supplies there and begin my search for her once again.
With my hands full, I reached the door and I tried to use my elbow to release the handle. The door didn’t open.
“What the fuck?” I said aloud, setting down my things. Using my shoulder, I rammed against the door and it swung open, a loud bang resounding through the well. I looked down the first set of stairs.
“Juliet?” Her name was a whisper as if I was imagining her there. Blinking twice for focus, I said her name again, racing down the stairs.
“Don’t…,“ she said, raising her hands and I stopped on a step. A large slam followed my descent and we were enveloped in darkness. “…let the door close,” she amended.
“What?” I demanded, clearly confused, as I took another step or two down toward her.
“The door locked. I couldn’t get it open. No matter how hard I was banging on it, no one could hear me. No one was coming.” I’d reached her on the landing where she stood pressed against the wall. The stairwell was dark, as only the emergency lights were on, but I could see she’d been crying.
“What are you doing in here?” I asked, my voice trembling as I spoke. I stood before her, my heart hammering. I reached forward to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
“I was trying to find you.”
“You came back,” I said, relieved. My fingers continued to work around her ear.
“I was wrong. So wrong. I got lost in my head again, and it took over my heart.” Liquid-filled violet eyes stared up at me. My hand slipped down to her jaw.
“Why would you let it do that, baby? After all we’ve been through.”
“I don’t know. I just panicked. I couldn’t believe you would want me when we were off that island. That we could be something outside of it. And when Abby…” she let the words falter as I glared at her. I didn’t want to hear her say Abby said. Suddenly, she reached for my shirt and dragged me to her. Her mouth pressed up to mine, and she was kissing me, tugging at my lower lip. I reached for the hem of her shirt, and she released my mouth only long enough to get the tee free of her head.
“I just couldn’t go without you. Not this time,” she said. My shirt was next as hands frantically roamed each other’s body between kisses and comments. I snapped off her bra, and the warmth of her breasts against my chest made us both sigh.
“I’m constantly telling you not to leave me. How could you walk away?” I asked, my mouth working down her jaw to her shoulder.
“This time you said to go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I reached her breast and latched onto her, rough in my sucking before my teeth nipped at the nipple. She yelped, but pressed my head to keep me attached to her.
“Tame me,” she whimpered. “Tame me everywhere. Just don’t leave me behind.”
I released her breast with a pop and stood taller. “I didn’t want you to go. I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t want you to leave.”
Her fingers released the button of her shorts.
“Slow down, baby,” I said, realizing we were in the stairwell, and taking a second to process the reason was the impending storm.
“No,” she snapped. We’d been like this before. I knew what she needed. When she acted most out of control was when she needed to feel in control.
Her shorts were removed, and I slipped a finger inside her. Wet and ready for me, she sighed in relief at my touch.
“You aren’t safe here,” I warned, implying the hurricane. “You should have gone home.”
“I’m safe wherever you are,” she said, exhaling as I removed my finger from her. I fumbled with my shorts and then spun her to face the wall. Her palms went flat, her cheek pressing against it. I slipped into her easily, and we moaned together. My forehead came forward as I slid back before thrusting inward again.
“I was so mad at you,” I hissed, the tension growing for my orgasm and releasing from the last hour of panic, after the crushing disappointment of her
leaving me. All that negative energy was catching up to me, and I began hammering into her, thrusting into the depths of her warmth in my relief that she was before me. She wasn’t on a plane. She wasn’t leaving me.
“I love you,” she muttered to the wall, her breath raspy as I filled her once again. I stilled and then I stepped back, letting the slick sound of leaving her fill the stairwell. I spun her once again, wanting to see her face, wanting to look into her eyes.
“Say it only if you mean it,” I said as I re-entered her, slowing the pace only a beat.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she said, and each statement increased the rhythm we set.
“Oh, baby,” I said, kissing her jaw and her neck, as my hand cupped her breast and I squeezed. “You make me wild.”
“You tame me,” she stuttered, as I rushed forward into her. “Always.” Our mouths came together, but only briefly. I hitched up her leg, just under her knee, and the shift brought me deeper. Her hand came between us, and I watched as she flicked over the spot that she needed. My free arm balanced near her head, keeping us upright as I slid into her over and over again.
“Like that, baby,” she said to me, stealing my line, and my heart burst as she clenched over me. Her head pressed forward as she let out a strangled cry, and I followed instantly, filling her with my seed. I didn’t pull out immediately, but pressed my forehead to hers.
“No more leaving. No more running, hiding, anything. You own me, Juliet. You can’t leave me.”
She nodded against me and then tipped her head back to take my lips. The kiss was tender and sweet—an apology and a new beginning.
+ +
We weathered the night in the stairwell. The lights went out and the temperature increased, but it didn’t seem to matter to us. I’d gotten the door open, finding it was only stuck from the shift in humidity. I pulled the blanket and pillows into the stairwell, and then risked returning to my rooms for some snacks and water bottles.
