Take Me Back

by Meghan March

  Too damn bad. I don’t share.

  Dane takes my hand as we walk down the dock, and I’m thankful to be away from Vander and Anya.

  When we’re out of earshot, I ask, “Did that really just happen?”

  “Sure did, but I’m good not talking about it.”

  I jerk my gaze up to his face. “You don’t want to talk about the fact that we were just propositioned by swingers? Seriously? Because . . . I don’t know about you, but this is a first for me.”

  One of Dane’s answers while we were playing Never Have I Ever comes back to me. He’s had a threesome. What if it was with swingers?

  “Oh my God, this has happened to you before. Is that what you did?” I hold up a hand. “Wait. Never mind. I don’t know if I want to know that.”

  “I’ve been asked before. Usually by the wife. But no, I’ve never done it.”

  We’re nearing the pier that leads to our overwater bungalow and I stop, causing him to bump into me before I turn around to face him.

  “But you’ve had a threesome. Or maybe more than one . . .”

  “It’s ancient history, Kat. Seriously, I’m not talking about it.”

  “Is it something you used to do often? Is that . . . is that something you miss?”

  Where are all these questions coming from? Why do I care? It’s not like I’ve ever given Dane a rundown on my sexual experiences before him. We’ve left that topic undiscussed, and up until now, I assumed that was for the best. But what if . . . what if he’s not satisfied? I mean, hell, it’s been how long since we’ve had sex? And my husband used to be a badass in the bedroom who had threesomes.

  A cloud of insecurity hovers around me as I stare at his face, looking for answers to all the questions I’m afraid to ask.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? No, Kat. I don’t miss anything except for having you whenever and wherever I want. That’s what I miss. I miss my goddamned wife and how easy it used to be between us. I want that back. I don’t fucking care about threesomes or swingers or any other women but you.”

  His response comforts me and levels me at the same time.

  He misses me. He misses us. Because I shut down and pushed him away.

  “I miss us too.”

  “Then we’re going to fix this shit right now,” Dane growls, lowering his shoulder.

  “What are you—”

  My question is cut off as he plants that shoulder into my belly and hoists me over it.

  Within three steps, Dane reaches our door, shoves the key into the lock, and flings it wide open with such force that it slams behind us.

  “I need my wife. Naked. Under me. Squeezing my cock hard as I make her come. It’s been way too fucking long, and we’re never waiting this long again, Kat. You understand me?”

  He tosses me down on the bed, my back bouncing off it before I land again.

  Dane’s expression is determined and . . . hungry. My nipples tighten and my thighs squeeze together.

  I’ve missed us too. I want him. And what’s more, the ferocity in his gaze makes me even more daring.

  “Then take me. Take all of me.”

  His nostrils flare as he steps forward, his knees bumping against the mattress. Without ever breaking eye contact, he snatches off one flip-flop and then the other, tossing them across the room.

  A hand closes around each of my ankles, and he spreads my legs open and drags me down the bed. Both palms slide up my smooth legs, under the thin dress I chose as a cover-up until he reaches my bathing suit bottoms. His fingers curl into the material and yank it down my legs, leaving me bare to his gaze.

  I’m already wet and ready.

  “I’m going to eat this pussy for dessert.” Dane swipes a thumb across my splayed opening, already slick for him. “But first, I need to remind you exactly who it belongs to. Me.”

  With the last word he speaks, he thrusts a finger inside me, and my hips buck upward at the invasion.

  I missed this.

  Fucking in and out with his finger, his thumb pressing hard on my clit, Dane brings me to the edge faster than I could ever manage myself.

  “You want this? You want us? You want everything I’m going to give you?”

  “Yes.” My reply comes out more like a plea, and it is. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a decent orgasm. My own attempts in my empty hotel rooms at night were lackluster at best.

  “Tell me. Tell me this is forever, Kat. Always and fucking forever.”

  “Yes, always and forever.”

  Dane presses harder on my clit, and I scream as I arch off the bed and let the orgasm wash over me. He adds to the pressure and the orgasm keeps coming and coming, until I’m not sure I can bear any more. I reach down, gripping his hand with both of mine, and he finally pulls it away.

  “That’s just number one.” Dane rips his T-shirt over his head and shoves his shorts down his legs. His cock, thick and hard, springs free.

  Thank you, God.

  “Keep your legs spread. I love seeing you open for me.”

  I nod, but it’s not enough. A flash of something flits across Dane’s expression.

  “We’re on a deserted island and you’re helpless, lying on this bed when I burst into the room. I’m here to take whatever I want, and what I want is you.”

  We’ve never done much in the way of role-play fantasy, but Dane’s words make my nipples harden even more than I thought possible.

  “Strip. I want to see my prize.”

  His voice is deeper, and I let myself fall into the fantasy.

  “Don’t hurt me. Please. I’ll do whatever you want.” I reach for the hem of my dress and drag it up over my head, leaving just my bikini top in place.

  “I want to see those sweet tits. Those hard little nipples. I’m gonna lick the salt off your skin before I take what I want.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he doesn’t have to take a damn thing because I’ll give it all willingly, but I go with the fantasy.

  “Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

  With one knee on the bed, Dane leans over me as I untie the bikini top from around my neck and let it fall.

  “All the way off.”

  I reach behind myself and unclasp the back strap before pulling it from my body.

  “My lucky day.”

  Dane’s other knee lands on the bed between my legs and his big hands close over my breasts, cupping and kneading them before catching my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers to squeeze and pinch. My hips lift as I writhe against him, seeking more. Needing more.

  Dane’s cock finds my center, and I rock against it until it notches into my opening.

  “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Hard up for it? How long has it been since you’ve been taken by a real man?”

  “Too long,” I whisper.

  “Not anymore. You’re mine, and I’m keeping you.”

  He thrusts inside, burying his cock to the hilt.

  Chapter 22

  Dane

  I don’t know where the hell the role play came from, but I go with it. The sweet, tight slickness of Kat’s pussy tells me she doesn’t have a problem with it either, and I pull back and power inside. Over and over, I thrust and retreat, taking my pleasure and giving it to her.

  It has been too fucking long.

  Somewhere along the way, I decided to follow her lead rather than laying down the law in the bedroom.

  No more. This is how we’re going to be for the rest of our lives. She’s my wife, and I love every fucking inch of her.

  “Please, please.”

  Kat doesn’t have to finish her thought because I know what she wants. I adjust my hips to give her more pressure against her clit, rocking into her over and over. The orgasm is boiling up in my balls, but I’m not ready to be done yet.

  I pull out. “I want you on your knees.” I grab her by the hips and help her roll over, pulling her ass up so she’s at the perfect level.

  With a groa
n at the sight of her sweet ass, I bury myself back inside, reaching around to strum her clit while I pound into her.

  Kat screams, and I guarantee anyone within a hundred yards of this thatched-roof hut can hear her coming as she squeezes my cock tight. It takes everything I have not to pound my chest like a primitive asshole at the thought.

  She’s fucking mine.

  Only mine.

  I don’t let up. I want one more orgasm from her.

  “Give it to me again,” I demand.

  “I can’t,” she moans.

  “You can.”

  I go harder, more pressure on her clit, and the telltale flutter of her inner muscles tells me she’s close again.

  “I want you to scream for me.”

  The sound that breaks free from my wife’s throat is just as primal as the possessive feelings hurtling through my blood. My own roar joins it as I explode inside her.

  For long moments afterward we still, our lungs heaving, until Kat’s elbows collapse and she falls forward.

  “Holy. Shit.” She whispers the words, and I feel them all the way to my balls. “I don’t know what just happened, but I want to cast my vote for that happening again. A lot. And soon.”

  A laugh gathers force, coming straight from my gut, and drowns out the sound of our labored breaths.

  “Thank fuck. I second that.” I lower onto my forearms and press a kiss to her shoulder. “I love you, Kat. Always and forever.”

  She starts to roll over and I pull free from her body, albeit reluctantly. But it’s worth it when I see her passion-glazed eyes.

  “I love you too. I’m never giving up on us.”

  “Damn right you’re not.”

  I take her lips, tasting the salt and the sweet all at the same time.

  And then predictably when it comes to Kat, her stomach growls.

  I pull back. “Let’s get you showered and fed.”

  “Do you think we can avoid the swingers?”

  With a shrug, I flop onto my back next to her on the bed. “It’s not like they’re going to try anything. They offered, and we said no. End of story. Nothing to worry about.”

  Kat bites her lip, her unease coming through loud and clear. “But isn’t it going to be awkward? I mean . . . he offered you his girlfriend and you said no.”

  “I don’t know how to put this without sounding like an asshole, but I’m pretty frigging sure that Anya is not Vander’s girlfriend. She’s . . . a toy.”

  Kat’s eyes go wide, reminding me how sheltered she really is. “What?”

  “Vander’s got money. Can’t miss that. I’m pretty sure whatever their arrangement is, it’s mutually beneficial.”

  “So you think she’s a gold digger?”

  “I think she’s whatever she needs to be in order to have someone provide the lifestyle she’s become accustomed to, and Vander happens to be the guy for the job right now.”

  Kat’s features screw up in distaste. “I just don’t get it. I’m sure she could be successful at something and not have to rely on a man to get what she needs.”

  Ahhh. There’s my wife.

  “Not everyone thinks like you, babe. You work your ass off, but for other people it might be easier to go another route. That’s the way the world works.”

  Kat’s stomach growls again.

  “How about I go get us dinner while you take a shower?”

  She nods. “I’m not a hundred percent sure I want to sober up, though. This is kinda fun.”

  I know what she means, and I agree. Sometimes letting go of inhibitions results in the best outcome.

  “You want more lobster or something else?”

  Kat shakes her head. “I think after all that rum, maybe not. Maybe chicken? You pick. I trust you.”

  Her words I trust you hit me hard.

  I have to tell her everything. It’s time.

  As soon as I get back.

  Chapter 23

  Kat

  Dane shuts the door, and for the first time since he dropped the bomb on me yesterday, I feel like we’re going to be okay.

  Despite burying myself in work rather than facing the grief I’ve kept bottled up, I haven’t screwed this up beyond repair. I’m full of hope, and it’s not from just the pleasant hum of alcohol in my veins. I figure I’ve got at least a half hour before he’ll be back, so I laze in bed for a few more minutes, thankful that he managed to pull my head out of my ass before it was too late.

  I can only imagine what the alternative would have been. Me coming home from a work trip on a Thursday night to find Dane’s stuff missing like my dad’s was . . .

  My stomach twists, and not because of the rum. That could have been my reality too. I would have slid to the floor, tears streaming down my face as I realized that I’d chased away the best thing that ever happened to me.

  But Dane didn’t do that, and now it’s time to woman up and get things back on track.

  I tug at the hair tie in my tangled blond ponytail, trying to get it free. By the time I step into the bathroom, I’ve created an unholy mess on my head.

  Reaching into the shower, I flip on the hot water before hanging a towel on the hook just to the left of the door.

  After I strip off my clothes, I toss them onto the bamboo stool tucked next to the tub and step into the steam filling the glass enclosure. I let the water soak my hair before massaging in shampoo to remove the salt. The heat feels decadent against my skin as I lose myself in thoughts of how the rest of the night is going to go.

  Dane’s going to come back with dinner, and by that time, it’ll already be pitch black outside. We’ll eat on our bed, be lazy, and hopefully have round two of the hottest sex of my life.

  One round of shampoo barely touches the stickiness of the salt in my hair, and I’m lathering up again when I hear a noise.

  Dane can’t be back already.

  Can he?

  “Babe? Is that you?”

  With shampoo suds running down my face, I turn into the water to rinse when there’s no answer.

  Maybe it’s the wind. Or the waves. Or a bird. It’s a tropical freaking island, so there’s guaranteed to be some sounds a girl from Texas isn’t used to.

  My eyes pop open when I hear a thump, and I hiss at the sting when the suds hit them.

  “Dane?”

  Slicking the hair out of my face, I back up in the shower to get a better view into the bedroom.

  With another swipe to clear the bubbles from my skin, I crane my head to the side, blinking several times to flush the soap from my eyes.

  Nothing is out of place . . . except my towel is gone.

  My heart kicks up again.

  “What the hell?” My voice shakes as my gaze cuts to the floor.

  Jesus, I’m an idiot.

  My towel lies puddled on the tile.

  I’m hearing things. Tripping myself out. There’s no one here but me.

  With a deep breath, I reach for my small bottle of conditioner and load my hair up before reaching for my razor to shave all the important areas. I’m midway through the second leg when I hear a creak.

  It’s just the bungalow. It’s on stilts. In the water. It’s going to make noises.

  I’m not usually this paranoid, but something has me on edge. Maybe it’s the fact I escaped a freaking shark attack. Fair enough.

  I hurry through the rest of my shaving routine, eager to be out of the shower and get myself fixed up before Dane returns.

  Did I bring any sexy lingerie? The question enters my head as I rinse the conditioner from my hair and quickly wash my face.

  I’m about to give up and admit I didn’t, but I remember the one sheer negligee I shoved in with my bras and underwear at the last minute.

  Win.

  I rinse and shut the water off before opening the door and reaching to the floor to pick up my fallen towel.

  Except it’s not there.

  Goose bumps that have nothing to do with being cold rise on my skin.

&nbs
p; The towel was just there. I heard it fall. I saw it on the floor.

  And now it’s gone.

  “Looking for this?”

  Vander steps into view of the bathroom doorway, my towel dangling from his index finger.

  Chapter 24

  Dane

  There’s no such thing as fast food in Belize. I know this from the last time I was here, and it’s a fact that hasn’t changed, especially when you’re on a small private island.

  With our orders handed off to the kitchen, I wait, a beer in hand.

  Andreas let me know that two more couples will be arriving tomorrow, and the island will be at one-third of its capacity.

  Although I couldn’t care less about having more people on the island, it will probably make Kat feel better if she’s not constantly faced with the threat of running into only Anya and Vander at every turn.

  “Looks like you and I are on the same mission—retrieve food and bring it back to the room.”

  Anya’s voice cuts through the reggae music in the restaurant as though I summoned her with my thoughts.

  “Pretty much.”

  She leans an elbow on the bar as Andreas hurries over to her. “Hey, Andre. Could I order some dinner to go?” She rattles off her order.

  “Of course. Of course. Let me get this to the kitchen, and I’ll be back to get you a drink while you wait. Eduardo is on his break, so I’m a one-man show for now.”

  He disappears into the kitchen.

  “It seems crazy they don’t do room service. I couldn’t believe it when Vander told me that.”

  “I assume they want to make sure we leave our rooms.” I take a swig of my beer.

  “I hope he didn’t make you uncomfortable with his offer. I think we both assumed, given your question, that you might be into it.”

  “No harm, no foul. I was just guessing when I asked.”

  Anya slides onto the stool next to me as Andreas returns.

  “What can I get you to drink, miss?”

  “I’ll take a vodka tonic with lime. Top shelf.”

  “Happy to oblige.”

  Andreas goes to work making her drink, and Anya points to the window. “Oh my God, do you see that? Is that fire?”