Pleasure Island

by Michelle M. Pillow

  And, since the scrolls and Bogdan were otherwise indisposed, Vaclar had no reason not to give in to temptation and run toward the beckoning thighs of the daughters of Talisgon. Vaclar shucked out of his jeans without touching them, using a bit of his new power allotment to make them fall at the side of the bathing pool. Seven young, naked daughters of Talisgon stared up at him with mischief in their eyes. “Now, ladies. There is only one of me.”

  He thought about cloning himself so he could fuck them all at once but quickly dismissed the idea. Such a feat would use up another year’s worth of rations.

  “Then hurry up and get in before our father finds out we’re here,” one of them said, her fiery red hair piled high upon her head. Her breasts bobbed on top of the water as she made her way over to him. Vaclar had never bothered to learn their names. He only wanted one thing from them and they from him. It wasn’t the first time they’d played the dangerous game of sneaking sex in before their father could find out. It wouldn’t be the last either. Not if Vaclar had anything to say on the matter.

  He smiled as he tossed his shirt aside and dove into the bathing pool. A virtual sea of breasts, ranging in sizes from the delectably small to the fuckably large surrounded him. Coming up next to the buxom redhead, he yanked her to him. She giggled and thrust her chest upward. Her nipples were long and pebbled.

  “Mmm, how about I start with you?” he murmured, kissing the mounds of her breasts as he palmed them.

  “Oh, how come she always gets to go first?” a slender blonde pouted.

  “Don’t worry, dear heart, I’ll have plenty left for you. Why don’t you make sure my spot is nice and warm? You know I don’t like to have to wait.”

  The blonde giggled and he saw her hand between her thighs, warming her pussy for him.

  Vaclar turned back to the redhead’s breasts. They were soft, warm and welcoming, as he already knew her pussy would be. “I’ll play with these in a minute. First things first.” He slipped a hand between her legs and eased his fingers through her thatch of hair, finding the spot he wanted to meet. Her cunt was hot and slick.

  “I see you’re ready for me.”

  * * * * *

  This is the life.

  Keoni Finau closed his eyes, happy not to have any customers on his boat for once. He loved the sea, loved being a charter fisherman, but after a long run of novice fishermen and inexperienced businessmen trying to show off for their fellow travelers, he was ready to be alone on the waves in his prized possession—The Obsidian Lady.

  Taking a long pull of the cold bottle of beer, he sighed, his thoughts running to the hot little tourist who had managed to make his dick hard every time she frowned at him. Since all she did was frown at him, his cock was pretty much erect every time he was around her. Thankfully, he’d finally found some peace and quiet, setting down anchor out a ways from the shore so he could ensure he would not have to look at her one more second.

  The fishing rod in his hand bobbed with the motion of the waves lapping the sides of the luxury fishing vessel. Nothing was around for miles. Just him and the other creatures of the sea. Keoni closed his eyes, dozing in the sun as the smell of the salty sea air washed over him.

  He’d grown up in the ocean and on the islands of Hawaii, but now lived in Key West, running charters with his boat. Starting his own business had been the smartest move he’d ever made. Someday, when he saved enough money, he planned to buy several more boats and start a fleet of them back home in the islands.

  Mm, someday, but not today. Today he was just going to float and fish and get another beer.

  “Ahhh!”

  The loud feminine scream was followed by a great big splash. Keoni opened his eyes, springing into action. For a moment, in his relaxed mind, he thought it was one of his customers going overboard, until he instantly remembered he had no customers. He glanced around. Not a single boat marred the perfect stretch of endless sea. Hearing a sputtering, he walked along the edge of his boat half expecting to see a mermaid.

  A woman struggled in the water, her arms flapping wildly as she gasped for air. Not just any woman.

  It was her!

  “You!” he shouted, staring down at her as her large breasts bobbed in the water, scantily clad in what looked to be pink lace. A bra? What the hell was she doing, half naked, way out here? He grinned and suggestively lifted his brows. “Who’s stalking whom, sweet cheeks?”

  Her wide, olive green eyes met his and he stiffened. A long, wet stream of dark brown locks followed her. She looked terrified, her arms flailing to keep her body above water. Since he wore no shirt, there was nothing to throw aside as he dove into the cool water. He surfaced next to her, slipping his arm under hers.

  Keoni instantly noted how slender she felt beneath the darker water, almost too slender to have such luscious breasts. The water didn’t frighten him as it did her. In fact, to him the sea held as little mystery as land did. His father’s people lived both on land and in the ocean. They were sea people, ocean walkers, or more commonly known as merfolk. No, they didn’t grow tails or have fins, but they could breathe water and navigate the ocean as easily as walking on land. Their vision cut through water as if it were no more than air. They were drawn to the water, understood it, loved it as it loved and cared for them.

  As he swam with the woman toward his boat, he felt the soft globe of her breast against the back of his hand. Keoni suppressed a grin. A breast had slipped out of her lacy bra and now floated along the water’s surface. His cock instantly hardened. One of the effects of being in the ocean was a headier sense of emotion. Passions were quick to stir, as was anger. In the sea, his moods shifted as fast as the changing tides.

  “H-help,” she stuttered belatedly. “F-face in the water. Smiling face…a man. He winked at me.”

  “I’ve got you,” Keoni soothed, wondering if one of his kind had played a trick on her. The last he knew no other sea people were around this area. “Nothing is in the water but us and some fish. Grab on to the rail and pull yourself up.”

  He got ready to push, but watched as she pulled herself onto the side with surprising strength for one so small. She clung to the rail, not making it completely over. Keoni pushed up from the water, easily maneuvering over the side like he’d done thousands of times before.

  “Let me help you,” he said, slipping his hand under her arm. “What are you doing on my boat? Where were you even hiding? I’ve been all over the vessel since setting out this morning.”

  “I wasn’t on your boat,” she said, sounding more stunned than he was. “I was swimming.”

  Suddenly, the boat jerked, like hitting an embankment beneath the ocean floor when he knew there wasn’t one anywhere near where he fished. He was pitched backward, taking her with him. Her soft body landed on his, her naked breast pressing to his chest. He felt the pucker of her nipple against his sensitive skin and inhaled deeply.

  “Are you an ocean walker?” he asked, hopefully. His body heated and he had no intention of letting go too soon. It had been a long time since he’d been with a female of his kind. If she was like him, she too would be aroused. It would explain why she splashed around to get his attention. And who was he to turn down a pretty lady who wanted his attention?

  One minute Christy Seabrooke was diving headfirst into the clear ocean from the dock near her resort and the next thing she knew, it felt as if a hand was pulling her under as she sucked in a mouthful of salty brine and found herself nowhere near the shore. Not only that, the surfer-bum hottie who had been making her stay nearly unbearable was suddenly there, staring down at her. It seemed like wherever she went while on vacation, she bumped into him. At first, she blew it off to chance. Then she’d flat-out accused him of stalking her.

  Of course, she panicked when she breached the ocean’s surface to find herself stranded near his boat, of all things. Who wouldn’t? Until that moment, her sanity had never been put into question. Well, not in any way that mattered. Her ex-boyfriend said she was craz
y because she refused to marry him.

  Yeah right, like she’d marry some chronically unemployed drummer in a band that still played in Mommy’s garage at the age of thirty-four. No. Thank. You. Besides, she didn’t love him and only used him for his tight abs and willing cock. Thanks to medical marvels, casual sex was now socially acceptable—to most, anyway. There were still some puritans out there pushing the Virgin Now movement, but it wasn’t a belief Christy subscribed to. The way she looked at it, the higher powers gave her a healthy sexual appetite for a reason and who was she to throw away such a gift? Besides, it would take a medical miracle to make her a virgin again.

  Feeling warm flesh shift beneath her, she let loose a deep breath. Her limbs shook, her body still in shock over the coldness of the ocean water. As his words sunk in, she frowned. “Ocean walker?”

  “Never mind, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He gave her a lopsided grin and she became aware of his tight, heated body beneath hers. His soft accent reminded her of her trip to Hawaii, as did the look of his features and the beautiful shade of his skin. She’d bet anything he came from there or from some Polynesian island. Stark blue eyes looked at her, as if it was the most normal situation in the world. Brown dreads were pulled back from his face into a thick ponytail bound with a strip of cloth. A trim goatee covered the bottom edge of his chin, framing the squared jawline.

  “What is going on here?” she insisted. He smelled like the ocean. The muscles beneath her were toned, but not too bulky. And then she felt it, the unmistakably thick press of his cock beneath the thin layer of swim trunks between them. She gasped, pushing up from him with an expression of shock. “Look, I’ve worked with magicians who could do some downright wizardly magical stuff, but this is too much. What did you do to me? Why am I here? Did you conjure a piece of ass?”

  “What?” He gave a small laugh, rolling up to a sitting position. His arms rested on his knee. Black tattoo work covered one shoulder and arm, dipping forward on his chest, to extend just past his nipple. Where the ink didn’t mark, his skin was left to show through and it was those light spots that created the intricate patterns of the design. Perfectly symmetrical, the design added to her belief of his Polynesian heritage.

  “You heard me,” she said forcefully. “Did you conjure me here to ease your lonely sailor boy…?” Her words trailed off as she gestured to his obvious arousal.

  “Ah, you’re the one half dressed with your tit hanging out.” He laughed.

  Christy made a loud screech of horror, turning her back to him to check her bra. Her breast had fallen out of the top. For a moment she’d forgotten the fact that her swimsuit top had never made it back from the resort’s laundry service. The maid seemed to snag every piece of clothing Christy left on the floor, taking them to be cleaned. Instead of putting her vacation on hold while waiting for the resort to right the mistake, she decided to take a swim in her bra and panties. If the resort didn’t appreciate it, they could replace the lost swimsuit. Doing her best to stuff her breast back into the thin lace barrier, she said, “I was swimming at the resort.”

  The man stood when she turned back around. He was taller than she would have thought at nearly six foot four. His blue and white swim trunks slung low on his trim hips, showing the start of hair running down toward his erection.

  “Can you send me back now?” she asked.

  “You want me to magically transport you to the docks?” He gave a short laugh and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’ve been called a god amongst men, but you flatter me.”

  Christy arched a brow and started to cross her arms. Seeing how his eyes automatically went to her breasts, she dropped them to her sides.

  His voice lowered. “How about you tell me why you stowed away on my boat? If it was to get to know me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to keep sneaking around all week, spying on me and then accusing me of doing it to you when I caught you.”

  She gasped. “I didn’t stow away and I was not spying on you!”

  Nowhere but in my wild, sexy dreams!

  Shut up, head. You’re not helping.

  Christy continued, “I was on the dock, outside the resort. I dove in and the next thing I know, I’m drowning in a sea of crazy. If my nose didn’t burn from the salt, I’d think I was dead.”

  “Wait a minute, what the—?” The man hurried to the side of the boat. “My boat! Shit!”

  He leapt over the side. That’s when Christy noticed they no longer moved. In fact, they were no longer in water.

  “My boat!” the man yelled in frustration. “What the hell? Where did all this sand come from? I was in the middle of nowhere. In water!”

  Christy was slower to climb over the side. The boat looked as if the hands of the gods had just picked it up and sat it down on the banks of an island. The sand, except for where their feet hit, was relatively undisturbed. Certainly no signs of the boat gouging a path ashore. Old trash, partially buried, littered the beach, leading out to the ocean about ten feet off.

  “If the ship were grounded, wouldn’t there be drag marks?” Christy bent, looking again to be sure she hadn’t missed them.

  “You’d think,” he snapped, walking in circles around his boat as if doing so would give him the answer. “What the hell?”

  “You can quit saying that, it’s not helping,” Christy said, trying to remain calm.

  “Fine.” He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll admit, when you first started rambling about falling into the ocean, I thought you had to be a liar or nuts, but now I see something weird is really going on here. Boats just don’t jump ten feet onto land without help.”

  There were several things she could say to that comment, but she let it go. Instead, she looked around for whoever had left the trash. The beach was empty. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know but I do know these waters don’t look like Key West.” The man walked toward the shore, cupping his hand over his eyes to study the sea. “Honestly, I have no clue. Maybe we are dead.”

  “Don’t say that,” she commanded. “I can’t be dead. I’m too young. I have stuff to do. Lots of stuff. What did you get me into?”

  He arched a brow in her direction, before again looking around.

  “Listen, don’t these boats have navigational systems and walkie-talkies? Why don’t you just radio in the cavalry to come and get us?”

  “I have GPS tracking so they can find us, but nothing so we can find us. There’s a radio belowdeck.”

  “How can you not have something that tells us our position?”

  “It’s a charter boat. I have the latest electric fish finders to show us the topography of the bottom of the ocean and a brand-new stereo and speakers for customers. When I’m out on a job and don’t check in, one of my employees will come out to find us.” Then under his breath, he added, “It’s not like I can afford every gadget under the sun. Not everyone can be rich like you, sweet cheeks.”

  Christy again chose to ignore him. Fighting wouldn’t do them any good. “Then won’t someone come looking for you now?” She glanced over the golden sands. They reflected the sun like tiny diamonds, stretching along the shore for what had to be miles. Inland, the sand turned to an outcropping of stone before disappearing into a lush forest. Maybe the island they were on was inhabited.

  “Not on my day off and not when I forgot to tell everyone I was going.” He cursed again, kicking at the sand. “And they’re definitely not coming to search for us here.”

  “I’m telling you, there are magicians who can do this sort of thing. I’ve seen them.” Christy thought of her ex, Brady Carlson, but quickly shook the thought away. The man was just vindictive enough to try a stunt like this—if he could. However, if the man could afford to pay a supernatural to use magical powers, he’d have done so to zap his rock career into existence. Other than that, no one hated her this much. “I have no enemies, so what did you do?”

  “I’m a fishing boat captain,” Keoni said blan
kly. “Do you think I’d make a lot of powerful enemies? The only one I could have pissed off was the god of the sea and I’m pretty careful to stay on his good side. He would have the power to do this.”

  Christy gave a nervous laugh. Supernaturals she could accept. They were out there, known, but she didn’t really hang in those social circles. But old Greek and Roman gods? If the supposed gods existed, wouldn’t they have come forward by now? “Right. God of the sea. Okay. Well, why don’t you just climb aboard your little boat here and try to radio for some help? Maybe, if you’re lucky, the god of the sea will show up with a tugboat.”

  “I didn’t say I saw him or anything, but ask any fisherman—there is a presence in the water,” he defended.

  “They’re called fish.” She wondered why she felt the need to press this man’s buttons. Her gaze traveled down over his firm, muscular body. She wanted to press a lot more than his buttons. Cream gathered between her thighs. Her bra and panties were wet from her ocean tumble, but the warm air and bright sun were doing their best to dry them. She became aware of how exposed she was to him, to the elements.

  “And, by the way, my boat isn’t little.”

  She gave a slight smile. No matter where she was, men always seemed to be protective of their vehicles. Seeing his eyes on her breasts, she crossed her arms in front of her to hide them from view. The action only pressed her cleavage together. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra t-shirt or even a robe, would you?”

  “I’ll see what I can find. Why don’t you come in out of the sun and I’ll try radioing for help. If anything, maybe we can find someone who can tell us what’s going on here.”