by S. K Munt
Tristan’s hand went to the knot of the towel at his hips, and Ivyanne’s laughter died in her throat as she realized that seeing Tristan naked would lead to dealing with having seen Tristan naked- sleeplessness, breathlessness and longing would be her companions for the weekend. Could she handle it again knowing she had only herself to blame?
Yep. She decided, her siren cells beating her human ones down. She silently urged him to take it off, thinking that she should volunteer for this safe, cushy job more often!That way she’d get to eye off Lincoln's streamlined physique as well! At that moment, Tristan crossed to where Ivyanne guessed the closet must be, because he disappeared from view. Ivyanne cursed and glanced at the keyboard, hitting the ‘down’ arrow’ to follow his movements.
On screen, Tristan froze. In front of her own screen, Ivyanne did the same. She watched him slowly look up until he was staring directly at her, through the lens, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Oh no! Ivyanne thought, her hand going to her mouth. He heard the camera move! Ivyanne wanted to kick herself. How had she not realized that a moving camera would have some sort of audible giveaway? She didn’t know what the worst part was-that he knew he was being watched, or that her peep show had come to a premature end!
But then, Tristan’s expression of shock melted into a knowing smile, one that seemed to pass straight through the lens and tug at her own lips.
He knows it’s me. Her cheeks grew hot in comprehension. Garridan told him he was locking me in here! Oh shit shit shit! Busted! I’ll never live this down!
Tristan grinned and stepped back a foot or two, his hands still on the knot at his waist and a cunning smile stretching his full lips as he stepped out of the frame. Ivyanne sank her teeth into the fist in her mouth, hesitated only for a second, then hit the upwards arrow, following him obediently-as he’d known she would.
I’m already going to hell…. she mused silently. May as well enjoy the view along the way!
Tristan’s smile grew wider. He cocked his head, bit his lower lip knowingly and then slowly unfolded the join of the towel, teasing her. Ivyanne giggled and leaned closer, holding her breath in anticipation until Tristan winked and opened the towel at last, treating her to a full view of his spectacular naked body.
Ivyanne groaned, committing his perfection to memory as her eyes followed the path of the Ivy vine to his lower ribs and then settled on his hips. He was just so... beautiful. Achingly lovely-every shadow, every crease. His weapon of choice was half swollen, impressive even in that state, and she clenched her thighs together as she remembered how he’d opened her body with it and reduced her to frenzied, wearied and completely satiated flesh in mere moments. The screen was black and white but she used her memory as a filter, knowing he was pink and smooth and, well, perfect.
I want you. She told him silently, her eyes flickering over him as her sex squeezed against already building pulsations. His body was so sculpted, so completely masculine, that he was more shadow then flesh. Not quite as tall as Lincoln and less streamlined, but there wasn’t an undeveloped muscle on his entire body. His backside was full and curved, his hips narrowing from his rippled abdomen, where Ivyanne could count a lot more than six muscles taut and begging to be licked. I don’t know for how long, but I want you right now. And you know it too you cheeky son of a bitch.
Tristan nodded knowingly, as though he could read her thoughts. He lifted his finger and crooked it to her, and heaven help her, Ivyanne felt herself beginning to stand. She didn’t want to think about Ardhi or Lincoln or the Marked ones or her crown... all she wanted was a few hours of bliss underneath Tristan’s rock hard body.
I really wasn’t fair on him… Thoughts unanchored by guilt spiraled through her mind. Lincoln had what, a whole week to explore our intimacy? Tristan got one go-and that one go was so good I’ve been terrified of giving him the chance to prove it wasn’t a fluke!
But suddenly, there was activity on the screen. Tristan went to his bed and picked up his phone, which was lit-indicating that someone was calling. His back was to her, and although that view was almost as good, it gave Ivyanne a chance to gather herself. She knew that was Garridan calling, probably wondering why Tristan was taking so long. She could actually hear Garridan’s mumbled voice through the steel-reinforced door separating them. Playtime was over. She didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved.
Ivyanne looked up to see that Tristan was stepping into a pair of pants, his head cocked, holding his phone in place, slightly out of view now, near his desk. He was pulling up his jeans with one hand (without underwear, Ivyanne noted) and writing something on his desk with the other. Then, he ended his call, threw the phone back down on the bed and buckled his pants before turning back to the camera, holding up a piece of paper on which he’d written, in thick block letters in his beautiful printing:
WE’RE GOING TO DISCUSS THIS LATER. IN YOUR ROOM.
Ivyanne inhaled sharply, her mind clouding again. What was he insinuating? A talk? Or more? And if more, how much more could he be satisfied with? How little could she take from him without begging for the rest? Was the risk worth the drama it would cause for her?
Even though she knew Tristan couldn’t see it, Ivyanne nodded slowly.
And even though he hadn’t seen her answer-Tristan grinned.
*
‘The place looks great,’ Lincoln remarked casually, glancing around the bistro shortly after his arrival, trying to not let it show just how pleased he was. In fact, he was trying to avoid eye-contact with Adele in general. But she was still his employee-one he sorely needed if he wanted to continue to participate in the guard- so communication was unavoidable. But he didn’t have to be happy about it!
‘We scrubbed every square foot after the fumigation.’ Adele twirled a strand of white blonde hair around her finger and eyed Price cautiously as he walked around the bar, staring at various things as though getting his bearings. ‘Bane’s idea, of course. He had us rearrange a few things too. He knows his stuff Link.’
Lincoln nodded, seeing that the configuration of the tables had been moved, and the glass of the windows scoured of any residual build up so that they were as clear as they had been when he was thirteen. The slate tiles shone with a fresh coat of wax, and the patio areas had been pressure cleaned. ‘It feels... fresh.’ He didn’t add that the physical facelift had cleaned away some of the mental build up too-it was harder to remember the screams and the violence of his engagement party when everything had been so subtly altered. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Her gaze slid from Price to him. ‘Hey look Link about the other day-’
‘Hey handsome!’ Grace trilled, striding in and interrupting Adele with perfect timing. She wore a crisp white pleated skirt and a pale yellow tank top, the bright colors contrasting beautifully with her rich, dark skin. Her toffee colored hair was pulled up into a perky ponytail.
‘Hey!’ Lincoln couldn’t help but give her a once over. ‘That’s some outfit, Miss Londeree.’
‘It’s my tennis stuff.’ Grace’s face was bright with animation. Lincoln couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that vigorous. ‘Didn’t Bane tell you? He’s opened the courts to the public every second day from lunch until five. Some of them actually gave me a run for my money today!’
‘He did?’ Lincoln repeated, astounded. ‘People came?’
Grace nodded. ‘Of course! They just have to pay a five dollar court fee and they have it for an hour.’
Lincoln thought it over. That wasn’t really much money. During low periods it was something, but when the tourists came... they wouldn’t like sharing with locals. ‘Hmm…’
Grace rolled her brow eyes heavenwards. ‘It’s not just about the court, Link. Most of them come and have lunch too, and it’s a great way to spread word of mouth-especially about the spa.’
Lincoln held up his hands. ‘I didn’t say anything. I told Bane I trusted him, so I trust him.’
‘Good. Because
he’s doing a great job.’ Adele wriggled her eyebrows. ‘He’s out supervising the yardmen tidy up the golf course as we speak.’
Lincoln chuckled. ‘He’s going to hire that out too?’
Adele’s eyes sparkled. ‘For a lot more than the tennis courts get.’
Lincoln leaned back in his chair, looking from one girl to the other. He’d given Bane five grand to get the ball rolling on things, and a month to turn a profit. ‘Well, that’s great. That course has been neglected for too long, I suppose.’
‘That’s exactly right.’ Adele smiled timidly again. ‘Now there’s a leak in one of the rooms. Could you go check it out for me before you go for a swim?’
Lincoln nodded and got to his feet once more, feeling like an employee instead of the boss. It was sort of sad in a way-the resort was slowly improving, and without any of his input or assistance.
He was partly annoyed that he hadn’t thought of some of these ideas himself. He’d spent years here, but when had he stopped being aware, or trying to push it all to new heights? Why did it take his ex, his groupie and a gay guy to see everything he had been missing? And what else could he do for the resort if he took a tiny bit of the energy he had reserved for Ivyanne and put it towards improving his own position?
‘Which room, master?’ he asked with a resigned sigh, determined to think about it all the next chance he could. It was time to stop putting Ivyanne first, at least until she was willing to do the same for him.
*
Garridan paced the floor in front of the theatre screen, alternating his view from one mer to the next. ‘I know some of you may think I’m over-reacting to this,’ his gaze landed on Ivyanne, who visibly squirmed, ‘because there’s always been a chance that Ardhi fled here. But I assure you, there is no such thing as an overreaction in this scenario. It’s time we cranked up security another notch. Which is why I’ve contacted my friends Ivor and Arulen. They left Fiji an hour ago.’
Tristan sat up. ‘The Demanci’s?’
Garridan nodded. ‘The very same.’
‘I know of this Ivor and Arulen.’ Sahori said quietly. ‘They are not Marked, no? But they are not cousins either?’
Garridan nodded. ‘Correct. They are full bloods, turned by Anna-like Mano Londeree’s parents, they were husband and wife before their transition, two hundred years ago.’
‘They couldn’t breed together, but refused to be split-up.’ Saraya piped up. ‘So Ivy let them be. They are Perfects, aren’t they?’
‘Perfects?’ Lachlan repeated dubiously.
Garridan nodded. ‘Perfects. They do not live as humans, or anywhere close to a human society. They spend all of their time in the water, coming out only to sleep. They live off the land, and wander, much as nomads do. Creatures of the sea, completely.’
‘Why?’ Ivyanne asked.
‘They escaped a volcanic eruption and suffered burns to most of their bodies.’ Tristan spoke up, lovingly tracing the tattoo on the back of Ivyanne’s neck with a fingertip. Under normal circumstances she would have batted him away, but Tristan knew that she was going to be a lot more pliable now that he’d busted her spying on him. At least until Lincoln came back anyway.
And if she didn’t want to be touched, she ought to have worn something else, because the low cut top and short linen dress shorts she’d donned were beckoning for him to play with a lot more than her neck.
‘Anna saved them, but even she couldn’t reverse the damage done to them. They were badly disfigured-too badly to return to society in any way-but given their fear of land and fire, they didn’t want to anyway.’
‘I feel so sorry for them,’ Pintang said softly.
‘Don’t,’ Garridan said. ‘They are very happy together, and have not experienced any sadness since their change. They’ll work together-helping keep guard- sleeping when they feel the need. Either way-there won’t be any getting by them.’
‘They’re strong,’ Tristan added, running his finger down her spine, grinning when she shivered and sat taller. ‘They’re healthier than any mer, and their senses are unequalled.’
Ivyanne turned to look at him. ‘You’ve met them?’
Tristan nodded. ‘Years ago, when I was an actual teenager. If there’s any chemical in the water, they can tell you exactly what it is. They can also sense other marine life and natural phenomena- earthquakes, cyclones, schools of box jellyfish... it’s incredible.’
‘I can tell when there’s jellyfish around too,’ Ivyanne said.
‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah I was stung badly when I was a little kid. Aubrielle fixed me up with her anti-venom, and I’ve been immune to them since. And when large amounts of Irukanji are around, I can taste the difference in the water.’
‘Very cool.’ Tristan leaned closer, glancing down at her unblemished legs. ‘But I looked at your body once for an awfully long time didn’t see any scars.’
Ivyanne glanced back at him, smiling. ‘They faded quickly.’
‘You’re very durable.’
‘You have no idea what I can take…’
Tristan stiffened so fast that he felt the blood drain from his head. ‘I think I need to test that theory,’ he whispered.
‘Anyway!’ Garridan said, looking amused and grossed-out at the same time. ‘It’ll be the ultimate warning, should Ardhi try to breach this area by water.’ He turned to Saraya. ‘Did you get a hold of Lincoln?’
Saraya shook her head. ‘His mobile phone keeps ringing out, and the reception says it’s shut after lunch due to staff shortages. I tried Adele, but hers went to voicemail.’
Ivyanne actually looked nervous. ‘Call Bane, or Grace.’
‘I’ll try Lincoln.’ Garridan said. ‘No offense Ivyanne but he stormed out of here in a pretty bad mood this morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s rejecting any calls coming from your number.’
Ivyanne nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She said softly. ‘In fact I fear for Ardhi if he crosses him this weekend. Lord knows that Lincoln’s reached boiling point.’
Not yet! Tristan thought, eyeing Ivyanne’s cleavage appreciatively in profile. But he’s going to!
13.
Lincoln stepped into the shadows of room fifteen, glancing around with a nostalgic smile. Almost instantly he could see the leak in the ceiling that Adele was referring to-a small patch of the fibro was slightly warped from mildew.
‘We meet again, fifteen,’ he said softly, peering up at the flaw in the otherwise freshly painted ceiling. ‘You’re not going to fall apart when I’m so close, are you?’
The room said nothing, but the atmosphere felt charged somehow. Twenty years of memories, he supposed. It was funny how inanimate objects soaked up life and swelled with it.
Lincoln walked over to the small second bedroom, noticing for the first time what a small space it was. When he was a teenager, it had seemed so huge. Even the dark timber bunk he’d slept in every summer since he was eleven looked like it belonged in a child’s cubby house. He grabbed a hold of the rail of the top bunk and slid it away from the wall, peering down the side of the timber, smiling when he saw the carving there: Link and Ivanna 4 EVA-just as it had been carved on palm trees, canoes, into the side of mildewy rocks. He smiled and chuckled, tracing his finger over the words, marveling that he could feel as love struck now as he had then, despite all of the drama between them.
‘Lincoln?’
Lincoln jumped when a second person stepped into the room. ‘Grace!’ he chided her. ‘I’m a lot older than you girl! Don’t sneak up on me like that!’
‘Sorry!’ Grace was wearing only a silver bikini, her hair still pulled back in a tight braid from tennis, making her look younger than usual. ‘Adele told me you were in here fixing a leak... but how is a bunk bed leaking?’
‘I got distracted.’ Lincoln slapped the side of the wood. ‘This is my old bunk,’ he confessed. ‘We used to always specify room fifteen when we came here. I was just taking a stroll down memory lane…’
Grace peered around the corner. ‘You little vandal!’ she scolded him gently. ‘And who on earth is Ivanna?’
Lincoln looked at his childish carving. ‘Ivyanne.’ He said softly. ‘She went by an alias then. I still slip up and call her that, from time to time.’
‘Sucks to be you. Love of your life and you didn’t even know her real name?’ Grace took a step closer, clearly pretending to get a closer look. She glanced up at him. ‘I’m just Grace, by the way. No big secrets here.’
Lincoln suddenly felt trapped. ‘Yeah... well... it’s different…’
Grace leaned back against the wall. ‘Oh, I’m aware of that.’ She said dryly. She gave him a thorough look. ‘How do I change that?’
‘Change that?’ Lincoln repeated weakly. ‘Grace, you can’t.’
‘You only think I can’t, ‘cos you’re so stubborn.’ Grace touched the marred surface of the wood. ‘I could carve our names everywhere, you know.’ She stepped closer to him. ‘I’ll tattoo your name on my ass in a little heart, if that’ll help.’
Lincoln’s eyes dropped to the side of her rump. ‘Grace…’
Grace’s eyes were dancing. ‘Well if you don’t like my ass.. pick somewhere else!’
‘Of course I like your-’ Lincoln snapped his mouth shut, horrified, as Grace beamed. ‘I mean, that’s... you’re not getting a tattoo!’
Grace giggled at his discomfort. ‘Score one!’
Lincoln chuckled and shook his head, attempting to walk by her. ‘Okay brat-this conversation is over.’
Her hand came up on her chest. ‘Why? Don’t trust yourself not to say anything else incriminating?’
Lincoln sighed, wrapped his hands around her waist and sat her up on the top bunk. ‘That’s it!’ He said, squeezing out of the tight space. He slid the bunk bed back across to the wall, giving Grace time to get her legs out of the way.
She twirled and lay down on her stomach, watching him. ‘You want me in bed already?’ she purred, stroking the bare mattress.
