by Gina Kincade
How romantic, Wylee thought, and entwined her fingers with Gabe’s. She didn’t know what this was all about, but she would follow him down the beach and off the edge of the earth if he kept it up.
They passed through the family area of the resort to the pool beyond. A young woman sat in a lounge chair with a baby on her lap. A man, her husband, perhaps, sat next to her drinking a beer and watching a young boy frolic in the glowing water of the pool. The boy broke the surface and squealed, dark hair slicked back over his small head, revealing a handsome little face and a dimpled grin. The light beneath the water illuminated his skin and caused his eyes to twinkle.
“I did it, Daddy! I holded my bref for a count to five.” He held up his hand, indicating five fingers for the count of five. His cocoa gaze fell on Wylee, then Gabe. The boy stood still in the water, as if to wait for their approval of his new talent.
“Aw, how cute,” Wylee murmured and waved at him. His innocence and enthusiasm captured her heart. Her arms ached to hug him and praise him and kiss his chubby little cheeks.
“Damn right. I want a boy like that some day,” he said, surprising her. He gave the thumbs-up sign to the kid and the boy waved and bobbed in the shallow end of the pool.
I want a boy like that some day.
Gabe’s voice played over and over in her mind. He’d never said anything like that to her. Suddenly, the night sky looked brighter. She could now see the oranges and purples from the sunset thirty minutes ago still lingering on the horizon.
They strolled for a few minutes, hand in hand, along a boardwalk that stretched through a small tropical forest and over sand dunes. By the time they emerged on another beach where a posted sign read, Private Beach – By Appointment Only, Wylee was famished. A large canopy tent had been erected within steps of the water. Sheer white curtains were tied back at the two front corners and tiki torches lit the way to an entrance.
“Ah, here we are,” he announced, and led her along the sandy path between the torches, toward the tent’s opening.
“What—where? What is this place?” Anticipation bubbled in her voice and stirred in her lower belly. She caught the savory aroma of fish, sweet fruits, and a floral fragrance that drew her closer. Something was up. Something really good, different.
Gabe led her inside the tent. Candlelight flickered and danced on the inner walls and into the peaked roof. Nature sounds played from an overhead speaker—crickets, frogs, birds, storms and thunder, blowing winds—but not nearly loud enough to drown out the rush of the ocean outside.
A well-built young man in nothing but low-slung, white yoga pants and sandals glanced up from arranging things on a high work surface set between what appeared to be twin massage tables. He smiled, his bright teeth stark against his handsome, tanned face. “Welcome to paradise.”
She tore her gaze from the man and studied the various oils, stacked towels, and crystal champagne glasses next to an intricate ice bucket. “No way. We’re getting massages?”
“It’s going to be much more than just massages, Wylee,” Gabe said, his voice cryptically deep and gentle. His eyes glowed with an emotion she’d seen from him. He pulled her into his arms and murmured, “You wait and see.”
He gave her a dizzying kiss that had her melting in his arms and forgetting they had an audience.
A stunning brunette breezed up next to them holding twin cocktails topped with umbrellas and fruit. Her brown eyes twinkled when she pressed a cool glass into each of their hands and said, “Welcome. I’m Megyn, and this is my husband, Gideon.”
“Hello,” Wylee said with a smile. She took a sip of the drink. “Mmm, thank you.”
Gideon grinned and nodded a hello, then went about placing thick, sunny yellow towels over the leather table surfaces.
“Please, help yourselves to some hors d’oeuvres while Gideon prepares things for your massages.” She gestured toward a side tiki bar set with coconut bowls of finger foods and trays of cheeses, fruit, crackers, and delicacies that appeared to be shrimp and miniature seafood kabobs.
God, she was starving. Wylee rushed over and popped some pineapple chunks and cherries into her mouth. The sweet flavors burst on her tongue. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation of food finally hitting her stomach. Next, she chose a large shrimp, dipped it in cocktail sauce, and bit off the tail.
“Oh, wow. Delicious.”
He chuckled and dropped a shrimp in his mouth. It was the only kind of seafood he liked. “Slow down, babe,” he said, chewing. “We have two hours blocked.”
“But I’m hungry. You’ve been starving me since noon.” She picked up a kabob and slid off a piece of meat, along with a melon ball, and chewed them together. She chased it with the strong cocktail, welcoming the alcohol buzz in her head and her blood. “Oh, my God, so good.”
Gabe held up a cherry and tore off the stem with his teeth. He chomped on the fruit and wagged the stem at her. “I’m not starving you. We made love twice already today.”
“Ha-ha. You know what I mean.”
“And you know what I mean,” he said, tweaking her nose. “You, darlin’, will never be starved. Not if I can help it.”
Wylee munched on crackers, fresh peach slices—no doubt from the plantation’s groves—and inhaled the scent of the ocean permeated by the charged air of a coming storm. A breeze whipped in through the door. It ruffled her hair and blew up her dress, fanning her damp, bare pussy. She downed her drink, set the glass aside, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you for planning this. It’s wonderful. An amazing vacation, and just what I needed. I feel so relaxed and…happy.”
“Happy? Is that all? Well, strap yourself in. I’m just getting started.” He rubbed her back and traced his thumbs down her spine.
She kissed him and asked against his mouth, “Is that doctor’s orders?”
He whacked her ass and chuckled. “Damn right. And as my hot little nurse, you will obey. Now, get—” His gaze latched onto something over her shoulder. “Ah, looks like Gideon’s ready for us. “C’mon, beautiful. Time to make you much happier.”
Gabe drew her over to the tables and Gideon indicated she stand between them. “May I?” he asked, reaching for the hem of her dress.
“W-what?” She looked to Gabe for an explanation.
“It’s okay, babe. He’s just going to help you get undressed.”
“He’s going to ‘help’ me get undressed? But I…”
Gabe distracted her, causing her words to dislodge in her throat. He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the sand. Next, he unbuckled his shorts and Megyn scurried up and scooped the clothing in her hands. She nodded at Gabe, as if to answer a silent question.
“Okaaay,” Wylee replied, now feeling giddy and naughty. His actions snuffed out her inhibitions with one look at him. He stood naked, his cock half-hard and arching toward her.
He jutted his chin in Gideon’s direction. “Go ahead. Do it.”
Gideon hesitated, but he gave her a warm smile. “Relax and let us handle the rest.”
“He’s right.” Megyn draped Gabe’s clothing over a bamboo rack and rushed to Wylee’s side. She caught the faint aroma of Megyn’s expensive perfume. “This is going to be an amazing night for you. Just relax and enjoy.”
Gabe climbed onto the nearest table, stretched out on his stomach, and propped himself on his elbows. “Enjoying as we speak.”
Wylee snorted and whipped her dress over her head. She dropped it in Megyn’s hand. “Oh, all right, you win, you ham.”
Gideon and Megyn sucked in breaths in unison. Gideon added a low whistle.
“Babe, you’re making it uncomfortable for me to lay on my stomach,” Gabe said with a groan.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. A strong breeze lashed through the open doorway and brushed over Wylee’s nipples, bringing them to hard knots. Her lower belly quickened and she tightened her muscles to hold back the dampness. She’d never been naked in front of three people at once. Although her first
instinct was to cover herself, it took the freeing sensation of three pairs of appreciative gazes roaming her bare flesh and their gleams of desire to have her thrusting out her breasts and standing up straight.
“There ya go.” Gabe nodded and licked his lips, a sure sign his desire piqued.
Megyn patted the other table. “Lie down. Gid will get started on your pampering, and I’ll take care of Gabe.”
If she had anything to say about it—and she definitely did—no one except Wylee would ever “take care of Gabe.” Swapping would never happen in their relationship, but in the case of “pampering” and a professional massage, she’d allow it.
This time, at least.
She climbed onto the table and settled her body over the fluffy towel. It smelled of sunshine and wildflowers. Gabe placed his face in the cushioned opening on his table. Wylee did the same with hers. She drew in a deep breath and stared down at the sand beneath the table. She finally closed her eyes and relaxed when Gabe twined his hand in hers and Gideon placed a thin sheet over her from the waist down.
The songs of tropical birds came over the speakers and mixed with the sound of the surf and the occasional rumble of offshore thunder. Gideon’s hands were hard yet gentle. He brushed her hair aside until it spilled over the table. His fingers went to work on her scalp and stroked downward in circular motions to her neck and shoulders. She groaned and heard Gabe do the same, but her body slowly turned to putty and her head felt as if it weighed fifty pounds, so she decided not to take a peek.
Her eyelids shuddered closed and the tension of months of overtime drained from her body. Thumbs traced her spine downward then fingertips dug into her flesh and rubbed upward along her sides. The hair on her head stood on end and a shiver rippled down her body. She slipped into a lull of semi-consciousness, aware but more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life.
The cool, cotton sheet slid off her rump, leaving her exposed. But she didn’t care anymore. When Gideon started on her butt cheeks, adding oil, kneading the fleshy parts of her ass and alternating it with deep stroking and squeezing of her thighs, she thought she’d died and gone to paradise.
Among Gabe’s groans, her moans, and the sound of skin being vigorously rubbed and patted, she barely noticed when Gabe let go of her.
Hands grazed up her ass, her back, her shoulders. A finger tucked her hair behind her ear and Gabe’s voice came to her in a whisper while he nibbled her earlobe. “Don’t move, baby. Just open your eyes…”
She started to stir, but he ran his fingertips down her back and whacked her ass. Fire settled and simmered between her legs. Ah, so he’d decided to turn this into another round of lovemaking. Her clit throbbed against the soft towel. Fine with her, although she felt a bit lazy from the massage.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered again, his tone husky with an edge of desire. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of her head and pressed gently, keeping her from turning or raising her head.
At first, she wanted to fall asleep to the sound of the surf and the nature track playing overhead. But she eventually obeyed. She sighed and mustered the energy to open her sleepy eyelids.
And that’s when her life changed.
Her heart started doing the craziest things—skipping beats, thumping erratically, feeling as if it spun around and crushed her lungs then suddenly leaped out of her chest and burst with glee.
In the sand below her table perched the most stunning ring she’d ever seen in her life. It had to be at least a two-carat-sized diamond solitaire, set in platinum with triple rows of small diamonds down the sides.
“Gabe… Oh, my God, is this—is this what I think it is?”
“Told you I was going to make you even happier tonight.” He chuckled, knelt beside the table, and stretched upward to kiss her through the table hole. He stood and she raised her head. He continued kissing her, making a trail down her jaw to the side of her breast.
Somehow, the blaze Gabe had ignited by taking over the massage from Gideon wasn’t snuffed out by her attention to the ring. Instead, it fueled it like oil to a flame.
She wanted him inside her now.
And she wanted that ring on her finger.
Somewhere in the distance of her awareness, she felt the movement of Gabe climbing onto the table with her. He wedged his knees between her legs and planted his hands above her shoulders.
“So what do you say? Will you marry me, Wylee? Stay with me forever? Be my wife and have a houseful of kids with me?”
“Are you serious? How could I ever—” Her words were cut short when he forced her hips up and slid inside her from behind, his cock now fully erect.
She cried out, stunned that her pussy already throbbed with the precursor to an orgasm. “Gabe… Ah, deeper.”
His hot breath fanned her neck and shoulders. He drew back and gave her what she craved, slamming into her until his hips slapped against her ass, over and over.
She held onto the ringed cushion area that had cradled her face during that amazing massage and pushed backward, taking him deep inside her tight slickness. His finger found her clitoris, hard and swollen. A hand cupped her breast and fingertips twisted and pinched the nipple. The scent of their sex drifted around them, entwined with the fresh ocean breeze. Their sweat beaded and melded together, then dried with the cool bursts of beach air rushing into the tent.
He pressed harder on her clit and trembled against her back. “Wylee,” he rasped in her ear, making her shiver with him. “Will you marry me?”
She stared down at the ring, trying to hold back her release long enough to answer him. She came at the exact instant her words spilled from her mouth, the spasms in her womb almost unbearable. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Gabriel.”
He groaned and clutched her body to his while he rode out his own orgasm. Then he gasped and wiped at the perspiration from his brow. “Thought you were going to say no at first.”
“The only way I’m going to say no is if you don’t get down off this table, grab that ring, and put it on my finger.”
He laughed so loud the tent shook. Rain pecked the roof and lightning flashed overhead. He climbed down, scooped up the ring, and stood next to her. “One more time… Will you marry me, Wylee Quartermaine, and become Mrs. Phoenix?”
“Yes. Yes.” She sat up, breasts bared. “I want to be Mrs. Doctor Phoenix.”
He grinned and slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you, Wylee. Forever. Through thick and thin, sickness and health.”
“I love you, too, Gabe. So much.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, surprised when desire stirred in her belly again. She drew back. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” He shoved their massage tables together, placed Gideon’s supplies table nearby, and brought over trays of food.
Wylee rearranged the large towels and plucked up a few linens. After a long moment of admiring her ring and attempting to tamp down her excitement, she asked, “You say we have this place for two hours?” She grabbed a kabob and nibbled on fish and juicy peaches.
He nodded and poured them each another cocktail from a carafe Megyn had left behind. “Yes. Probably got about an hour and a half left.”
“Good. Then let’s eat and take a nap.” She snapped out a few sheets, preparing them as blankets, and rolled two towels for pillows. Then she went to work on another kabob. “Mmm, these things are delicious.”
“Don’t overdo it,” Gabe warned, and licked his fingers after sucking on an orange wedge. “It’s barracuda on those kabobs.”
She blinked and held the kabob stick suspended in front of her mouth. “Barracuda? As in, the fish that could be toxic and pass on ciguatera food poisoning?”
“Sure. You’ve eaten barracuda plenty of times. In fact, you’ve always scoffed at my warnings not to eat it.”
She dropped the kabob and picked up her drink. “Not since I learned of the Georgia-Florida, east-coast outbreak the CDC and FDA announced yest
erday. There’s a ban on selling it, harvesting it, eating it—anything to do with barracuda.” She downed the cocktail in several gulps, trying to keep her hand from shaking.
“Yesterday? Shit.” His eyes widened. He raced over to his clothes, drew out his cell phone, and pinched the bridge of his nose—he always did that when nerves plagued him. “Hey, Gideon. The kabobs. Can you confirm that they’re barracuda?”
His jaw tensed and he thrust a hand through his hair as he listened to Gideon on the other end of the line. “Fuck. Wylee just told me the CDC announced an outbreak of ciguatera poisoning yesterday.”
Wylee pressed her hand to her stomach. Was it her own nerves getting stirred up from the scare, or did she feel nauseous? No, it couldn’t be. It was too soon. It usually happened around the twenty-four-hour mark after ingestion.
“Okay. Okay, thanks, Gideon.” Gabe pressed the pad of his phone. He held Wylee’s gaze across the tent. “Seems he didn’t know before tonight. Only now he does. Uh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, but we should probably head home as soon as possible. You’re going to want to be in your own bed if you start with this brutal bug. Remember how it affected you last time?”
“Yes.” Lord did she ever remember. Days and days of dehydration, puking, diarrhea, fever, delirium. Ugh. Yes, she wanted to be in her own bed.
The storm had ramped up, raging outside, whipping against the sides of the tent and pouring rain on the roof. Normally, it would have been cozy to curl up together and weather the storm by making love, watching movies, eating and having drinks.
But not now. Not tonight.
She’d been infected. Damn it.
Chapter Five
His smell tickled her consciousness first—shampoo, soap, warm skin. Then she became aware of the dampness of soft hair against her forearm and the gentle rhythm of his breathing. Beyond that, the beep-beep of machines and the distant chatter of voices caught her attention and pulled her from her dreams.
