Inhibition-X

by Bobbi Romans

  And then she sneezed. Not some small delicate sneeze, oh no. Nothing that went wrong in her life ever did so in a small way. Snot flew. The oozy type that hung in two thick streams down both nostrils while toying with her upper lip.

  “I’m so…” she’d begun to bumble forth while she wiped the snot as quickly as possible. In that horrific summer moment, fate tossed her a life preserver.

  Mick hurled like no tomorrow. With far too much booze and way too little food, Mick’s stomach revolted in the way bodies did to rid poisons. While occupied, she wiped the snot right before the rest of the gang came running up to laugh.

  “Hey Mick…how about a burrito with extra chili?” Daniel bellowed, earning a slap on the shoulder from Beth.

  “Here, sweetie.” Beth had handed him a napkin. “Need anything else?” Mick finished retching and, to her dismay, turned to Beth, not her, for comfort. His choice stung, but Beth had been the one the offer a hand up while she’d sat on her duff like the scared, pimple-faced teenager she was.

  When teased the next day, Mick swore he didn’t remember a thing. Her heart plummeted, but she’d never breathed a word about how much the kiss meant to her. Poor Mick, though, received teasing for years. Still did, on rare occasion about the spring break Mick spewed.

  “Oh, how gorgeous,” Beth, now called P.J. said, pointing out the plane’s tiny window and bringing her back to the present.

  Sure enough, a tropical sight met her gaze. The plane leveled out, lining up with the adventurous island they were about to land on, and her nerves went on high octane. Her stomach twisted even more, and her palms grew sweaty as she gripped the armrests for touchdown.

  “Man, I can’t wait. This is going to be the most epic break yet,” Ridge, now dubbed Captain Morgan, whispered in awe.

  Both guys, she didn’t doubt, prayed like hell they would be greeted by half-naked women.

  “Allow me to retrieve your luggage.” Their pilot announced giving them all a friendly grin. He began gathering up their bags, a few at a time, before placing them at the end of the dock.

  “Check out that color. I’ve never seen anything so turquoise and clear before,” P.J. breathed on a dreamy sigh. ”The water screams to get naked and jump in. Doesn’t it?”

  Heather cast a wide-eyed stare to her friend, half expecting her to do exactly what she’d said.

  “Go for it. Hell, we might join you,” Daniel, now J.D., said in unison with Captain Morgan.

  “No. We need to wait to figure out where we are supposed to be going,” Heather urged, praying they’d listen and not get naked. They needed to work up to the nude level of this trip, if such an act ever even happened.

  “Spoilsport.” Captain Morgan blew her a raspberry. “Dude, where’s the naked girls wearing leis to kiss and greet us?”

  “Dude, where’s the naked men wearing leis to greet us?” P.J. shot back.

  “Uh, I think you’re all thinking of Hawaii.” Heather giggled at their small faux pas.

  Much to their dismay, and her personal relief, no naked anyones came to greet them.

  Hell, at this point, Captain Morgan seemed half prepared for some little person to stroll up and begin yelling out… “de plane boss, de plane,” like from the old eighties television show.

  “What?” he asked when the visual of such a thing hit her and she snorted.

  “Nothing,” she murmured.

  Instead they found themselves in an awkward silence as they waited for someone to come collect them from the docks.

  “First time in my life I don’t give a fig about waiting. Feel the air? It’s charged with excitement, and oh, the aroma. Like sweet floral heaven,” P.J. noted.

  She hadn’t realized until then, but P.J. had nailed the description of the atmosphere. Nerves finally settled, she took a moment to close her eyes and soak in the warm, tropical sensations around her. When she opened her eyes again, she found what P.J. did.

  A loud thud caused them to whip around in search of what had caused the intrusion. The pilot dropped the last piece of luggage, turned, bid them farewell, and took off toward the docked plane. He crawled in, cranked the engine, and winked as the propeller began to whirl in a fury.

  “Kinda weird, dontcha think?” J.D. asked a bit doubtfully.

  Though their surrounding area was lush, and strewn with gorgeous tiki-lit pathways, Heather didn’t find another soul around. With darkness approaching, the last horror movie she’d caught rushed back.

  The Island of Madmen.

  Shouldn’t have picked an island-themed horror flick before coming. Bad, bad idea.

  “Eeny, meeny, miny, or moe?” Morgan asked, nodding in the direction of the four paths before them.

  In answer, J.D. took off for the path straight in front of them before pausing. “You guys coming?”

  “Yeah, yeah, right behind you.”Always the fearless leader, J.D. just did. Sadly, many times he did without calculating his move first. That said, he always made sure everyone around him was okay before doing so. He might be the first one out of the parking lot and the first to get a ticket, but he never left until your car was started and he knew you were safe. Sometimes he got things wrong, like directions, and sometimes he got things right. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest buying the closed coffee shop. Taller than average, with a nice clean buzz cut, J.D. had a military look, yet his personality stood about as far from military as possible. He was a stark contrast to Mick, whose dark, almost Goth looks were amped by J.D. standing in close proximity.

  Mick, whose preferred choice of club attire was black leather pants (bulge visible), shit kickers, and white pirate shirt, was by far the alpha of the group. Yet for all his darker attributes, things about Mick screamed gentleman. They had been out at a club once when a couple broke out into a fight. While it began as verbal and controlled, Mike kept his eye on them. She’d seen him quietly taking the couple in. When the man grabbed his girlfriend too roughly, Mike leapt into action. Not one second of hesitation.

  Bam. Mick had the man by the scruff of his shirt and was nose-to-nose. Told the ass that if he touched his girlfriend like that again, he’d make mincemeat out of him. He continued retraining the man until the girlfriend was safely in the back of a taxi and leaving the place.

  Then you had Captain Morgan, whose practical jokes were known statewide. A bit smaller than either Mick or J.D., though not short by any standard, coming in at five feet eleven. Plastic-wrapped toilets during a large party? Yep, that’d be J.D.

  She gave her companions a once-over and wondered what they’d think of her if she divulged her secret fantasy. They’d probably flip a wig if she did. Somehow she suspected Mick would understand. Maybe it was the whole S&M thing he was said to be into.

  “You still with us?” P.J. asked as they strolled along the path.

  “Yep, just taking everything in,” she lied as thoughts of her fantasy being fulfilled here entered her conscious thoughts. At first she had no intention of following through with the fantasy. But the island air and mystery surrounding the place gave her pause Her secret desire? Being with a stranger. Someone she didn’t know and never would. Someone she could let go with and never have to later worry about what they thought. If they thought her a freak, well, whatever. She didn’t know them, nor they her, and she’d never have to face them again.

  A silken sash over her eyes as someone unknown ran a feather, or flogger, across her bared skin. Kisses being peppered across her body until her skin flushed from the heat of the moment. Opening her thighs at the urging of work-calloused hands and not being able to determine what her partner had in mind.

  Mouth, hand, or cock?

  “Hey, Shirley, watch your—”

  Dark, tropical, copper-scented dirt shot up her nose as she tripped over a vine on the path. She’d heard P.J.’s voice, but not in time to understand to prevent the ass-over-end fall.

  Chapter Four

  “Shit, girl, are you okay?” P.J. helped her up with snickers from the g
uys once she proved she hadn’t been hurt. “Girl, where are you at right now? You’re definitely lost in thought, when you should be lost in the magic of the island. You really okay? Something going on you want to talk about?”

  P.J. wouldn’t think twice about announcing her darkest sexual desires. She did harbor one secret the guys hadn’t a clue about, but it stemmed from the who, rather than what. She was hopelessly, madly in love with Morgan. P.J. had sworn Heather to secrecy after getting a bit too hammered and spilling the beans. Wild and carefree and most reminiscent of a hippie’s flower child, P.J. sunk every dime she had into the coffeehouse and didn’t want to take a chance on not only ruining her friendship with Morgan, but also making her workplace a living hell. Heather had kept P.J.’s secret, though she’d urged her friend to discuss her feelings with Morgan, as she suspected Morgan might feel the same way. He’d never said anything, but she’d caught Morgan staring at P.J. on more than one occasion with a starry-eyed expression. P.J. could do far worse than Morgan. Oh, Morgan liked to play Joe Cool. Love ’em, leave ’em—but it was an act. They all knew he was a big softy who volunteered with little kids and stopped for every stray animal that crossed his path.

  “No, I’m cool. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.” She brushed dirt off her knees, flipped the guys the bird, and limped along behind them all.

  “Well, hey, hey, lookie here,” J.D. announced a few steps later.

  They all stopped to catch their breath and take in the gorgeous sight before them. Three amazing, tropical-appearing huts.

  “Wow, think they might be ours?” she whispered to P.J.

  “I sure as hell hope so. How’re your knees?”

  “Fine. My pride’s more bruised than anything,” she admitted, still in awe and praying the luxurious appearing huts before her were theirs.

  “Hello and welcome to paradise,” a sultry voice seemed to whisper from out of nowhere.

  All heads pivoted at the same time, and jaws dropped in accordance.

  Before them stood a woman of Asian descent. She was wrapped seductively in a thin white sari, her head slightly bowed as if in submissive posture, yet somehow an aura of great strength arose from her. Her dark areolas visible beneath the white material and her feet bare, she was the epitome of sexy.

  “I am Khara, and I bid you welcome.”

  Heather nearly laughed as the guys seemed to lose their voices and instead stood drooling like two undersexed college frat boys.

  As if on some magical cue, Khara’s nipples beaded under the intense stares from the guys…only making them freeze up even more. If Khara noticed the awkward gawking of Heather’s companions, she didn’t let it show.

  “Welcome, friends, and please excuse our tardiness in our greetings and in escorting you to your accommodations.”

  Heather and P.J. turned their heads at the sound of the new masculine voice.

  “Yowza!” P.J. leaned toward her and muttered in appreciation.

  “Please allow me to introduce myself. They call me the Marquis, and I will be your host during your time with us here at the island.”

  “Marquis?” P.J. all but squeaked. ”He did say Marquis, right? Like the Marquis de Sade?” P.J. whispered in her ear. “You do know who he was?”

  “Duh. I’m vanilla, not stupid,” Heather snapped irritably.

  “I think someone just got wet,” J.D. blurted rather crudely, overhearing P.J.

  “Shuddup,” P.J. hissed under her breath.

  Heather would admit, the Marquis was built like an exotic god of myth.

  The man stood well over six feet three and probably weighed in around a heavily muscled 275. Wrapped in what she assumed was the male version of a sari, his golden skinned shimmered against the sun’s waning rays. Abs that dared one to try to wash clothes on them and pecs that no doubt would lift her with ease. Images of him acting in her fantasy hit, and she prayed the blush she suspected rosied her cheeks would be written off as a result of the late-afternoon heat rather than the dirty thoughts springing to mind.

  His hair reached nearly to his ass, though he wore the thick mass tied back with a leather strip. And his eyes, Lord help her, were the darkest of hot chocolates yet blazed with fire. Her gaze dipped to take in the long, muscled legs. Bared from the knees down, they too had seen many a sunray. Even the hairs had sun-kissed glints in them.

  “Ahem.” P.J. nudged her. “Dibs, and don’t bother denying where your thoughts went. I caught exactly where, girlfriend.” P.J. winked at her and waggled her brows when the Marquis leaned over to say something to Khara.

  A movement to her right, and she caught something flash in Morgan’s eyes as he attempted to gain P.J.’s attention, but whatever was in his gaze vanished before she could identify it A flash of jealousy, perhaps? Maybe this trip would finally force the two to come to terms with their feelings for each other.

  “Should any of you be in need of anything during your retreat with us, please don’t hesitate to make your request with myself or Khara. There is nothing too extreme here on the Island of Inhibition-X.”

  “Lawdy, does he know what he just said? The ramifications of such a statement with these two horndogs?” P.J. whispered, nodding toward Morgan and J.D.

  Heather burst out laughing in agreement but stopped quickly when both the Marquis and Khara stared at her. “Sorry, private joke.” Yeah, probably wasn’t the best offer to be suggested in front of either of her male buddies.

  “Don’t ever apologize for laughing. When you laugh, you light up from within.” The Marquis’s stare sent shivers of need through her. She bit her lip in nervous reaction to his sudden attention. Right when the gaze went from inquisitive, likely over her sudden laughter, to something deeper, he continued.

  “Please allow us to show you to your bungalow.” The Marquis turned toward another trail, one that led them away from the buildings before them.

  After a delightful walk through more exotic, fragrant foliage, they came upon a gorgeous waterfall. She stopped to take in the sight. The water fed a nice-sized lagoon, which begged for diving in. Though not uncomfortably hot, her clothes now stuck to her from the rising humidity.

  “Let’s go. We’ll come back and check this out later,” P.J. urged, tugging her arm.

  Minutes from the waterfall, the Marquis and Khara came to a stop in front of something that could only be described as a tropical paradise…and she hadn’t even seen the interior yet.

  The hut was enormous, and when they walked through the door… Oh my goodness.

  The floor had been built entirely over an aquarium of some sort. Visible were blue waters and vibrantly colorful tropical fish. Truthfully, it was almost scary to walk across, as Heather felt with each step she was about to fall in. They discovered a sitting room with bamboo-cushioned furniture and wicker shades rolled high. Oh thank you Lord Jesus, she thought, noting the mosquito netting in place.

  Nothing like blowing a dream trip due to constant scratching from annoying mosquitoes, or having red bumps all over your bikini-clad body.

  She caught the guys shooting each other peculiar glances, but though she didn’t understand why, the Marquis had.

  “Should you wish for more privacy during your time with us, you will find assorted private rooms about the island. Each is themed to help expand the adventure we try to maintain.”

  “Themed?” both Morgan and J.D. asked.

  “Yes. We understand each of our guests may have different tastes in life,” Khara answered, as if her statement cleared things up. It didn’t. Tastes? As in sexual? Damn, Heather’s courage fled, and she had no intention of asking them to clarify. She’d talk to P.J. in private later and verify her summation of Khara’s answer.

  Again, as if he’d read her mind, the Marquis went into detail, all while locking gazes with her, and damned if her insides didn’t fire all up under his exotic eyes.

  Chapter Five

  “Tastes, as in explorations of one’s fantasies. Some may wish to explore the dar
ker side of love, while others may wish for something lighter, like role-playing or multiple partners perhaps.”

  Multiple partners is paired with lighter? Uh, okay.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught J.D. raising his arm.

  “About the private quarters, how will we tell which ones are private guests’ rooms versus the themed rooms?”

  “Good question, bro.” Morgan nodded in agreement. Her mind hadn’t even caught up from all the “oh my God” moments to consider such.

  “In the front of the themed rooms, or open rooms as we will call them, are black X’s. Any structure that features one is open to the guests’ use. If a building is lacking an X, the room is private.”

  The guys nodded in understanding.

  “We will allow you some privacy to explore your new domain and become settled. Should you have an immediate need or have a pressing question, simply pull this handle, and either I or Khara will answer.”

  “You are shitting me,” P.J. blurted as she took in the silken rope hanging by the front door.

  “I assure you, I am not, as you say, shitting.” Though stated a bit dry, even she didn’t miss the slight twitch in The Marquis’s lips. He liked P.J.’s honesty, and probably everything else about her too. P.J. was built like Barbie, and Heather had secretly wanted to hate her, but she just couldn’t. The bitch ate like a damn horse, avoided the gym like the plague, and never gained even one pound.

  “Thank you for your warm welcome, and I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” she answered when her friends took off in different directions, exploring their new abode.

  The Marquis and Khara made a quick exit as she turned to find her buddies.

  “Hey, where did you guys go?”

  “In here… Wait till you get a load of what we found!” J.D. shouted with far too much glee in his voice.

  She entered the largest room in the place, and…holy shit.

  Before her hung a round bed so massive several people at once would be able to sleep—or play, she presumed—on the thing. Loose, swaying sheer curtains wound round its exterior sides as well as top. Rather oddly located, the bed sat positioned, or hung, in the dead center of the room. The golden, silk cover screamed luxury and softness. The sucker was like a giant, hanging swing. Visions of sexual play drifted to her mind. Would the bed actually sway with motion, or were the mattresses so heavy, the bed would remain immobile regardless of movements?