Forbidden Three - Kira Blakely

Table of Contents Forbidden Three Copyright Description Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Thank you! Forbidden Daddy Get the Series! Also by Kira Blakely About the Author

Blakely After Dark KIRA BLAKELY

Hello, my naughty Kiralites! You’re not going to want to miss any addition to my Blakely After Dark series. This series is not my typical book. These are shorter reads where I push boundries and get naughty! Sign up for my Blakely After Dark newsletter and recieve a free extended epilogue to Forbidden Daddy that has a SUPRISE ending! >>>Click here NOW!<<<

Copyright © 2018 by AG Media, LLC, a representative of Kira Blakely. All rights reserved. AG Media, LLC owns exclusive rights to all content herein. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from AG Media, LLC, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

A gold letter, wrapped in diamonds, addressed to me. You are cordially invited to Mystique Island. I’m the nanny to the world’s sexiest billionaire. He spends his spare time at Mystique Island. Days of masked sex. No names. No obligations. Perfect for me. He’s my truest fantasy. And I just received an invitation. When I arrive, I’m moaning for hours. But the rough hands, the ocean-blue eyes, and the cologne… They’re different on this island. And when I find out why, my fantasy is twice as fulfilling.

It’s not just my boss who’s waiting to claim me. It’s his twin brother, too. Now, I have a choice. Take one. Take both. Or leave the love behind. I’m in over my head, but it’s too late to stop. These big boys are making me beg. Welcome to Blakely After Dark. This is a naughty read for mature audiences only. This is a 40,000 word story. About 200 5x8 print pages. I’ve included Forbidden Daddy, book 1 of the Forbidden Series. Happily ever after’s are guaranteed!

Forbidden Three This is book 4 of the Forbidden Series. Each book is a stand alone and does not have to be read in order. This book is twice as long as others in the series, but still not full length. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Danielle Holden Long is my personal form of torture. He’s my boss. He’s my fantasy. He makes me ache in all the right places. And I can never, ever touch him. I stand in the kitchen of Holden’s two-story home, a brick-faced duplex in Manhattan, and prepare his daughter’s snack for her trip to her mom’s house. Five-year-old Jessie is super excited to see her

mother, and I’m always happy to see this precious little girl, whom I’ve only known for a month, reacting like this. Even if it means I have to take a weekend off, away from Holden and his sharp gaze, his sturdy silence, his presence. Ugh, it’s been one month! Get a grip. You can’t fall in love with someone after a month. It’s never gonna happen, girl. And it’s totally wrong, too. “Mommy’s here!” Jessie scoots into the kitchen, dressed in her princess outfit and grinning from ear to ear. “I’m leaving, Nansy!” She calls me that instead of “the Nanny,” and I kinda like it. “That’s great, honey. I hope you have an awesome weekend with your momma,” I say, handing her the little Finding Nemo bag I’ve packed her lunch into. “Be safe. Where’s my hug?” I crouch in front of her. Jessie flies into my arms and squeezes so tight

I wheeze. “I’ll be back on Monday, Nansy.” She pats me on the back of my head. “Don’t worry. You won’t be lonely for too long.” “Aw, thanks, sweetie.” She steps out of my arms, grinning broadly, her blue eyes sparkling. They’re the same as her father’s. “Ready to go, angel?” His voice purrs through the kitchen, and my heart tha-thumps against the inside of my ribcage. Speak of the devil. The delicious, totally-outof-reach devil. The newly divorced Holden Long fills the doorway that leads into the kitchen. He takes up all the space—hell, he steals the air right outta the room. Towering above me, with those ice blue eyes, a sharp, long nose, and full, expressive lips and that

beard I’m dying to touch, he stuns me. A swimmer’s body. That’s probably the best way to describe it. So sexy. But Holden Long is so much more than a hot, muscly frame and forever eyes. He’s strong and silent, and he’s borne the hurt of his divorce without showing any pain. He’s helped Jessie adapt to a new life these past few months. The only reason I’m here is because it’s difficult for him to juggle a billion-dollar empire and all his duties at home without a partner to share the load. “Bye,” Jessie cries out, one last time. “Bye, sweetheart. See you soon.” The two of them head out, and I hurry to finish cleaning the mess I’ve made. I may have gone a little overboard with Jessie’s snack. I’ll miss her, after all, and she deserves a treat after going through so much.

“What are you doing, Dani?” I mutter to myself. This is supposed to be a way to save money for my studies. I’m twenty-two and desperate to go for my private pilot’s license, then the commercial, but I can’t afford a loan. This job is a total boon. Holden pays well more than what I need to survive, and he’s put me up in the guestroom in his house, just down the hall from the master bedroom. My core tightens—the thought of him in there, naked, under the sheets. Stop! You need this damn job. You can’t screw it up! I busy myself washing off plates then wrench open the door to the dishwasher and start stacking. It’s probably a good thing I have to leave this weekend. I’m going to visit my sister upstate. Get my head away from Holden, out of his bedroom,

out of his pants. God, I’ve had maybe one boyfriend in my entire life, and I’ve never been this hard up for it. What the hell is wrong with me? The door slams and footsteps echo down the hall. I tense up but keep stacking, bending so my ass is on display in the tight skinny jeans I chose this morning. Each day, I try a little something to grab his attention, as pathetic as that may seem. Nothing’s ever going to happen. Still, I wiggle my butt and hum. “Danielle.” His voice is a growl behind me. I shut the dishwasher’s door, straighten, and flush hot from head to toe. Then I turn slowly to face my fantasy. He’s inches from my chest, looking down, his pupils dilated.

“Hi, Mr. Long,” I say. I never call him Mr. Long. “I’ll be leaving this afternoon to see my brother.” His gaze lights on the sparse cleavage that shows above the lip of my blouse. I try to keep it modest around the house. “Have you got somewhere to go for the weekend? Or will you be staying here?” My breath hitches in my chest. God, I wish that was an invitation. “Yes. My sister’s.” “Good.” Silence builds between us. Heat. I have to get out of this kitchen before I throw myself at him. Wrap my legs around his waist, grind my already wet pussy against the outside of his jeans, which fit him to perfection. I lick my lips and look down to avoid his gaze. I catch a glimpse of his crotch, and the bulge there, a length of what looks like thick pipe.

Oh, god, he’s hard! He’s hard! My nipples pucker and pluck against the cotton of my bra. I’ve chosen something comfy today, and it does nothing to hide my reaction to him. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Long,” I say. Again with the formalities. Cringe. I scooch past him and make for the door, because I absolutely, 100 percent cannot afford to lose this job. I won’t make what I need working at McDonald’s or any other restaurant around here. I’ve already tried waiting tables, and after my mom’s passing, money is super tight. We’re a family of five sisters and one tired dad. I distract myself with the thoughts and rush out of the kitchen. “I’ll pack my bags,” I say, over my shoulder, then dart out into the hall.

I pause a second, press my back to the wall, and catch my breath. Calm down. Calm down. It’s the first time he’s ever been that close to me. That he’s ever reacted to me. And I’m tempted to go back in there, drag his dick out of his jeans, and polish him off with my mouth, my hands, every fucking part of me. God, why do I want him this much? It can’t be normal. I push off the wall and spot the mail waiting on the foyer table, a mess of envelopes I usually organize for Holden into two piles: junk mail and bills or personal correspondence. Perfect distraction before I leave. I grab the bunch and sort through them letter by letter.

Bill. Junk. Bill. Junk. Happy New Year Card— ha, that’s a little late. Junk. Junk. Ju— What’s this? A golden envelope addressed to me. Weird. I never get any mail. And I certainly haven’t listed Holden’s place as my current address. But there’s no mistaking it. That’s my name embossed on the front, surrounded by… diamonds? No way. I’m tempted to crack a tooth on one just to see —yeah, I’m that kinda bad bitch—but I don’t. Instead, I slip the letter from the pile and hold it in both hands. My gaze skips past it to the remaining mail, and my eyes widen. There’s another letter. This one in exactly the same print as the first.

Mr. Holden Long. He’s got one, too. My curiosity hits the roof. I quickly finish sorting the rest of the mail then hurry past the entrance to the kitchen. I don’t dare glance in, in case I spot Holden in there and lose my resolve. I take the stairs two at a time then rush down the corridor and burst into my bedroom. I shut my door behind me and lift the golden envelope again. My pulse races. This feels important. I’m not sure why. And Holden has one, too. That has to mean something, right? I turn the envelope over, fingers trembling, and open the golden lip. I slide a delicate piece of paper out from within. Dear Ms. Danielle Powell,

You are cordially invited to join us for a weekend of sex and mystery on Mystique Island. Masks will be required at all times during the course of your stay. All clothing, food, and accommodation will be provided for you. Welcome to the sexiest event of your life. The envelope is unsigned, but there’s an additional page of details. A plane ticket included, and a brochure explaining the island and what the parties there entail. Very explicit pictures dot the pages and my mouth goes dry. Mystique Island? And Holden is invited, too? This sounds way more intriguing than a weekend upstate, but can I really do this? I’ve never been a prude. I’m more of a sixties child without the necessary sexual experience. Going to this type of “event” doesn’t scare me too much, though I’m kind of nonplussed about who invited

me. If we both have an invite, does that mean that it’s from him? No, it can’t be. Holden wouldn’t jeopardize this. I scan the words again. Masks will be required at all times. What if I can be with him? No strings attached. Get rid of my desires for him once and for all. Live out my fantasies during this one weekend? I swallow and lick my lips, the memory of Holden’s dick pressed against his jeans front and center in my mind. I’ll do it. Just this once. And if he’s not there… I’ll leave. That’s it. Just one weekend, and he’ll never know, and it won’t matter when we’re back. Will it?

Chapter 2 Holden The golden envelope holds the words I’ve read several times over the past few years. I rarely visit Mystique Island. When I do, it’s to catch up with my twin brother, Joey, because he’s out of town doing business for us most months. In fact, I haven’t seen him in almost half a year. He’s been in Japan for ages. Joey’s my total opposite in everything except looks.

He’s the bad version of me. He’s a party animal, a man who is always free and never settles down. Joey will take a look at this envelope and its invitation and hop on a flight and boat ride to Mystique whether I go or not. He loves fucking, and he loves parties. That’s Joey. But I’m not him. I’m the responsible dad. Or I was until the fucking divorce ripped my family in two. It was an amicable resolution, but it still messed with Jessie, and that eats me up inside. I walk to my king-sized bed and sit down on the pale blue sheets. I turn the envelope over and over in my hands, shaking my head. I have a whole weekend to myself, and I promised I’d go to this damn island, if only to catch up with my brother. It’s my excuse.

The truth is, I want to fuck, too. But not any of the women there, in their masks. I’ve visited Mystique several times, and I’ve made a connection with a woman maybe once or twice. I’m never interested when I get there. There’s mystery, yeah, but there’s nothing I haven’t had before. Threesomes, women in all shapes and sizes, they’re shit from my past. From when I was young and dumb. Joey’s still in that phase, even though we’re the same age. Fine, I’m a minute older. “Fuck,” I grunt and drop the envelope on my bedside table. I shouldn’t be conflicted about this. It’s not a difficult decision. My problem, my big fucking problem, is the woman who’s down the hall this very minute, packing her bags to leave my house for the weekend.

I don’t want her to go. I want to drag her into my fucking bedroom and eat her out until she screams my name. I’m craving her. I have been since she arrived in this fucking house. Hiring her was my mistake. She’s become a constant, and I love that. I love seeing her in the kitchen in her tight jeans, her ass up in the air, tempting me to touch. A noise echoes from two doors over. Her room. I get up again and walk toward the exit to my master bedroom. My big, empty master bedroom. I crack my door open, a frown wrinkling my brow. “Oh, god.” It’s a moan. From her lips. My cock twitches. This is too much for me to handle.

I can’t fuck my nanny. I can’t mess around under this roof. I can’t jeopardize Jessie’s state of mind. But she’s not here this weekend. And Danielle is. Danielle, who smells like soft, sweet vanilla and spice. She’s what you want. Take her. Fuck her. “No,” I grunt to myself and click the door closed. But the sound of that tight, hot moan tells me everything I need to know. Danielle isn’t packing down the hall—she’s caught in a private moment. Likely, she thinks I’m still in the kitchen and doesn’t want me to hear. She ran out of there fast enough once she realized how much I wanted her. I won’t bend to this. I’m not a fucking animal. I can’t fuck her.

Any other woman would’ve been bent over a desk by now, but not her. Not Danielle. I walk to my bed again and slide open the top drawer. I draw out the bottle of lube from inside. I’ve run out of it this month and replaced it twice. Danielle’s presence has me jerking off every day, at least once. It’s the only way I maintain my sanity around her. Another moan leaks in from underneath my door, and I’ve effectively lost it. I unzip my jeans and tug them down, bring out my dick. It’s bigger than most women see in their lives. I know because I’ve been told. I’ve witnessed the gasps and the licked lips, the excitement. Danielle will love it. I let myself fantasize about that.

I grab the lube and pop the cap, squeeze some into my palm, then smooth it over my dick, focusing on the tip. “Fuck,” I growl and buck my hips. It’s too good. This will be another one of those orgasms. Any time I fantasize about the nanny, I come so hard my toes curl. It’s not just her tight little ass, those perky tits, or the long dark hair that falls past her shoulders. It’s not those pouty blow job lips, or the sparkling hazel eyes, flecked green. It’s her manner. Her care. I want her to nurture me. Nurture my dick, god damn. My dirty thoughts lead me. I walk to the door and lean against the wall next to it, listening hard. Another moan, this one breathier than the last.

I stroke my dick, up and down, shut my eyes, and picture her naked on her bed. The sheets in her room are pristine white, and she lies back on them, now, I fucking see it. Danielle’s hand is thrown up over her head, fingers caught in the sheets, her other hand working her pussy. She slides two fingers inside and rams them in and out, moaning, writhing, her feet planted on the bed. She’s wide open, on display, her pussy lips dripping for me. She messes up the sheets with those juices. Fuck, I’ll lick them up. I’ll drink her, devour her. A real moan interjects into my fantasy and drives me on. Higher. Fuck, I’ll come at this rate. I open my eyes and stare at the door, lift one hand and drag my shirt up and over my shoulders. I

let go of my dick, get the shirt off, and hold it ready at my side, then start stroking again. Danielle groans down the hall. “Oh, fuck, Holden.” I freeze, hand on my head, my balls tightening up. She said my name. Fuck it, she does want me. Not that it’s any great surprise. I’m rich, I’m hot, I’m out of her league as her boss. It’s naughty, and Danielle’s a naughty girl. My naughty girl. Not yet. Not ever. This doesn’t change anything. She wants me, and I want her, and that makes it even more important we don’t touch. Ever. Except in my fucking mind.

I shut my eyes again and work my cock, throbbing for her, pre-cum dripping from the tip. Once again, she’s laid bare before me. Her legs spread wide, now her hand cups her breasts, pinches her nipple as she cries out, softly. She flicks her clit, then circles it, taps it. She uses both hands now, fingering herself with one and playing with that sweet, pink pearl with the other. Danielle curls around herself, moaning, her perfect lips parted. She’s trapped in a moment of bliss. “Holden,” she moans. “Holden, god, you’re so fucking big.” The beginning of my orgasm tickles in my balls. Christ, she’s said that out loud. I open my eyes and let reality slam home. She’s saying these things in my house, under my roof. She’s moaning for me two rooms away.

“Holden,” she keens again. “So fucking big.” I can’t hold on much longer, the wet squelch of the lube perfectly emulates what her pussy would sound like with me inside her, filling her to the brim. “I’m coming, baby,” she calls out. “Holden, I’m coming for you.” I clench my teeth and ram through my orgasm, blocking the tip of my dick with my shirt. I squirt five times, and then another, and another. Christ, it doesn’t end for an age. It’s the hardest I’ve ever come, and I wish every drop had been inside her. I exhale and rest my head against the jamb. Silence in the house. No more moans or begging. This is it. It’s the final straw. I can’t fire her for this. I can’t blame her for

having urges when I have them myself. She has a future ahead of her. She’s saving to become a pilot, and I won’t wreck her dream. I’ll go to Mystique Island instead. One weekend of sex with a masked woman will erase my fantasies about her. Is has to.

Chapter 3 Danielle Mystique Island is the perfect Caribbean retreat. I arrive on the white sand beaches with a group of nervous women, each wearing a mask, as I am, and long flowing white dresses that are pretty much transparent. Nerves bubble in my belly. I’m finally here. A call to my sister to let her know that I’m spending the weekends with friends instead, a plane ticket, and one boat ride with a

gaggle of giggling girls, beautiful, short, tall, petite, curvy—as different as can be—and here I am. And he’s here, too. Somewhere. An assistant escorts me to a villa just off the beach. It’s gorgeous, with a floor-to-ceiling window in the living room looking out on the white sands and trees. My bags are at the foot of my bed, placed there by whoever runs this place, and there’s a welcome note waiting on the pillow—gold and diamond embossed. I lift it and swallow, press both hands to my stomach. Please join us for a welcoming party down on the beach. Masks required. But clothing not? I have no idea what to expect here, but if there’s a party, it’s my best chance of finding Holden among the guests.

Oh, god, what if he recognizes me? Or worse, what if I can’t find him? I’ve come all this way for this opportunity to seduce him. It’s ridiculous, pathetic, but I can’t turn back now. I won’t. I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, across from the king-sized bed decked in silken sheets, and check my reflection. My skin is sun-kissed, tanned, and the slopes of my breasts lift the near-transparent cotton shift I was dressed in on the boat. The outlines of my nipples are clear, as is the vague depression of my belly button. My hair hangs loose, a little windswept, either side of my oval face, and the mask hides my nose, but not my lips, or my eyes. I’m not exactly unrecognizable, but this is the last place he’d expect me to be. If I don’t talk, maybe he won’t realize… or

maybe he will. Do it. Come on, Dani, this is what you came for. You’re here to find him, so just do it. Don’t back out now. I square my shoulders, and a strap slips off and drops, exposing more of my breast. I lift it back into place. Jeez, were these dresses designed to fall off? Probably, ha. I walk to the door of my villa, the pressure building in my core. He’s got to be here, right? He got an invite. If he’s not… One step out of my front door and I halt, suck in a breath. My villa is right on the beach, and my steps lead into the pale white sand. Just ahead of me, people are naked beneath the palm trees. Their

hands are all over each other, their bodies glistening with oil or sweat or saltwater. It’s totally unexpected, and I blush. I’d assumed there’d be some modicum of modesty, but this is pretty much an orgy. A woman sits astride a guy, right in the sand, her tits bouncing free to the air. She moans and inserts a finger between her lips and sucks on it, while another dude stands just next to her stroking his dick. She reaches over, grabs it, and pulls it into her mouth. I gulp. It’s just past midday. The sun is high, and people are out here in broad daylight, all over each other. Is this what Holden expects? I’m not sure I’ll

be able to share him. God, if he’s here at all. I steel myself for more of this. For flashes of bodies, twisting together, for hungry mouths and cocks dripping for them. I set off down the beach, heading for the bar across the way, where most of the people are clothed, chatting or sipping drinks. Some of them kiss, but they aren’t sucking on each other’s nipples here, thank god. I have a moment to think. To scan. I halt in front of the bar and bite my lip. A masked bartender grins at me, cocking his head to one side. “First time?” I nod. “Yeah.” “Don’t worry, it’s normal to be nervous. By the end of the weekend, you’ll forget all about it. You’ll never want it to end.” He winks.

I wrinkle my nose. I doubt the staff are meant to fraternize with the guests, and I’m here for someone else. The only man who exists in my world. “What can I get ya?” the bartender asks. Behind me, a man groans, low in his throat, followed by wet, seductive noises. I don’t look back, but the backs of my legs prickle beneath the soft cotton. A breeze brushes the back of my neck. “Uh—” I’m not usually this indecisive, but there are definitely people fucking right behind me. It’s pretty damn distracting. “She’ll have champagne.” The gruff voice sends a shiver done my spine. It’s him! His tan hand rests on my forearm, and my eyes actually roll back in my head. I force them back into their regular position and take deep

breaths. Got to keep it together. I haven’t even looked at him yet. You can do this. He won’t recognize you. I turn to him, and I’m stunned. Stuck in place. It’s Holden all right, but he’s shaved off his beard since I last saw him, and the blue eyes behind his mask don’t widen in recognition. Thank god. “You’re mine,” he says, plainly. “For the weekend. For as long as I want. Any complaints?” I shake my head. I can’t form words. That part of my brain has shut down so hard it might never work again. “Good. Champagne,” he commands, at Winky the Bartender. The guy’s smile is gone now, and he pours for me and for Holden. My masked Holden.

This weekend will be everything I want it to be. I can’t contain my excitement. I tremble till I’m basically vibrating on the spot. How apt. “This way,” Holden says and takes my hand. He leads me across the sand, past tables where people talk, and two people on the ground, kissing, grinding into each other, desperate. The beach is a white strip beside a turquoise ocean. Waves wash the sands, whispers of noise that raise the fine hairs on the back of my neck. Everything about this island seduces me, from the villas to the sensual moans echoing from every direction. Palm trees do little to hide the shapes beneath them. “Here.” Holden stops, hands me the champagne flute, then takes a sip from his own. He stands and stares out over the ocean now, his eyes the exact same color, a gorgeous, swirling

turquoise. This close, I can barely move. Holden doesn’t look at me. He waits. I sip my champagne and swallow. It fizzes down my throat. God, is it ever going to happen? Does he know it’s me? I don’t want him to doubt this for a second. What can I do to prove it to him? “Strip,” he says, as if he’s reading my thoughts as they pop into my mind and flit out again. “I want you naked.” The champagne flute slips from my finger tips and hits the sand. The stem cracks, but it doesn’t shatter, and the liquid spreads from its mouth. I don’t care. Nothing matters but this moment. I’ve fantasized about it for so long. Dreamed of touching this man who’s been so patient and

kind, yet powerful and hard since the beginning. He’s such a fucking man, even though he’s shaved his beard. “Now,” he says. Holden’s lips part again as if he’s about to say my name, but he doesn’t, thank god. I step over the wrecked glass, too lost to care about cleaning it up, and walk to the water’s edge. Waves lap my toes, and I gasp at the warmth of the water—I expected cold. My skin prickles again. “Turn around. Face me. Strip.” The commands are gruff, similar to the way he spoke in the kitchen not two days ago. I circle on the spot, swaying my hips, and reach up, real slow. I want this to last. “Good,” he says. “Faster.” My pussy clenches. Faster? He wants me

naked as quick as possible. He wants me that bad. I drop one strap of the cotton shift, and it brushes past my nipple, already erect from the combination of warmth and readiness for him. Holden shudders forward a step then halts. “All of it.” He’s feet away from me, and he’s rock hard in his chinos, the outline of his cock pulling at the fabric. A wet patch spreads there—pre-cum dripping for me. I clench and moan, softly. “Now!” he growls again. I obey him and drop the other strap, my clipped nails catching on the cotton. I drag it down and step out of the puddle of fabric at my feet. I’m naked except for the mask. This is the moment I’ve waited for.

Holden undoes his shirt, button by button, and I lose my breath again. Abs lead into a V that disappears beneath the hem of those chinos. He strips off his shirt, and his muscles ripple. He’s got tattoo sleeves, tribal decorations I’ve glimpsed only once or twice before. On his left pec, he bears a tattoo of two men, standing back to back, their fists raised. It’s a silhouette, but it must mean something to him. If I’d had a chance to know him, as I’d wanted to all along, maybe I’d understand. Right now, I don’t care too much. He’s half-naked. Holden Long is half-naked in front of me, and all my fantasies are about to come true.

Chapter 4 Joey Shit, this wasn’t meant to happen. I got an invite for this chick, Danielle, because my twin brother is infatuated with her. He sent me a picture of her one night, fully clothed because Holden isn’t a fucking dog, and told me all about his new nanny. How he needs to talk to me about this little problem he has with her. I already know what that problem is. He wants to fuck her.

Knowing him, he’s probably fallen for her. My brother’s the one with the heart. I’m the hard bastard who parties, fucks, and does whatever the fuck I want. And now, whatever the fuck I want is her. I’ve never had a reaction to a woman that’s floored me, but this one has. So what if he likes her? She can still be mine. For the weekend. He doesn’t have to know she’s here. Danielle is naked in front of me on the sand. She’s fucking gaping at my body, and I haven’t even whipped out my cock yet. That’s one treasure she’ll squeal for. My only concern is she’ll get addicted to it and want more than I can give. “Don’t move,” I grunt.

Christ, the front of my chinos are wet at the sight of her. She’s tan, but her tits are paler than the rest of her, brown-pink nipples puckered, her hair swept to one side in the light breeze. The sun beats down on her, and sweat shimmers on her forehead. She waits for me and slowly clicks her teeth together. Lifts that dropped jaw. This is my brother’s fantasy, not mine. But I’m tired of playing second fiddle. Shit, I’m the one who jets off to every corner of the earth to keep our business prospects interested. I’m the one who pitches new tech inventions to old Japanese dudes and chicks in suits. Fuck it. I’m doing this. I unzip my chinos and let them fall. My cock

bounces free, and my girl actually whimpers. That’s right, Dani. It’s all for you, baby. All for you. “You like that?” I ask. “Yes,” she says and writhes on the spot. Her tits jiggle, and I trace a line from one to the other with my gaze, then down to the shaven mound between her legs, pale as well. I bet it’s smooth, and her walls are fucking silk. “You’re mine,” I grunt again. I have to keep saying it. No real reason. Just to reinforce it to her. So she knows that I’ll own her, I’ll fracture her. Ruin her for other men. My brother included. I stride across the beach, closing the distance between us, and she shivers, practically dances out of her skin. A low moan builds in her throat, louder, and louder, and louder…

I cut it off with a kiss. I claim her mouth with my lips, part them roughly, and taste champagne on her tongue. Fuck yes. Fucking god. What the fuck? It’s too good. My dick drags across her belly— I outsize her by a lot—and I lift her with ease by the apples of her ass cheeks, and splash out into the water. The masks are still on, but I don’t need to see all of her face. Her body answers my every question. It’s supple beneath my fingertips, pliable. She’ll do whatever I want, and that’s exactly how it should be. “So long,” she moans, against my lips, against my tongue. “What?” I grunt and splash deeper into the ocean. The waves rock against our bodies, but I make sure we’re not totally submersed. I won’t have the water washing away all that delicious

wetness between her legs. “Nothing,” she whispers. I suck her bottom lip and bite a little. “Say it.” Another command. Her tits press into my chest, her nipples grazing the skin and smattering of hair there, and I spank one ass cheek. “Say it!” “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she moans. My brother. She’s wanted Holden for so long. Christ, what am I doing? This is wrong. But I can’t care more than that brief thought. She’s hot and wet against me. Her pussy’s heat spreads against my abs. I slide her lower and rub my dick between those lips, swollen for me as they should be. “You don’t have to wait anymore,” I say. “Dani.” Her name comes out before I can stop it,

and she stiffens. I pinch her ass cheek to snap her out of it. “I told you. You’re mine.” She doesn’t relax, so I grind my dick up and down between her pussy lips, rub it against her clit, and bring another moan from deep within that tight little body. “Oh, god,” she whispers. “Oh, my god.” “That’s right,” I reply. I place my head at her slick, quivering entrance, and she gasps. “Are you ready, Dani?” “Yes,” she hisses. “Yes, Mr. Long.” Jesus Christ. That’s good. “I like that,” I reply. “You call me that from now on. Just that.” This way, she won’t let slip my brother’s name halfway through.

“Mr. Long,” she repeats. “How bad do you want it?” “More than you know. I want you, baby,” she groans. “I want to come for you.” “You’re going to.” I kiss her collarbone then suckle on her salted neck. “You’re going to come so hard you’ll fracture, baby girl. You’re going to scream. Do you hear me? You’re going to come so hard you scream, and even then, I’m not going to stop.” “Fuck me, please,” she begs. “Please.” I slide my head into her cunt, and I actually lose my mind for a second. Fucking hell. It’s like being dipped in chocolate. It’s like losing myself in the softest, sweetest prison imaginable. One I never want to leave. I’m her hostage until this is over. And I don’t want it to end.

I ram my cock inside, bury myself in that silken jail, and growl against her neck. I shift my grip, hold her in place with one arm around her waist and the other grasping the back of her neck, pressing her soft hair to it. Everything about this chick is smooth. “Mine,” I growl. “You’re mine, now. Mine!” It’s feral, the words escaping me aren’t planned. They come from the base of my fucking balls. My dick is almost too big for her, but she accepts all of me anyway, her bottom lip trembling, her eyes wide, eyelashes fluttering with each thrust. That pussy tightens around me, threatens me with an orgasm before I’m ready. Fuck that. I bend her petite frame to my will. Arch her until the base of my dick rubs against her moist clit. Each of my thrusts brings a gasp from her, then a moan, then a muted scream, as she pulses toward

her edge. She breaks around me. Milks my dick so hard it’s all I can do not to fill her up, right here, right now, but it’s not enough. Dani shakes and finishes in my arms, goes limp. I don’t stop pumping. “It’s not over yet, girl,” I say. “Hold on.” She claps her hands down on my shoulders, tits still jouncing with every beat, and tightens the grip of her legs around my waist. “It’s too good,” she says. She struggles as if she wants to go, but she wants to stay, as if she can’t take anymore, but she wants it all. “I’m going to come again.” “Good. Come again. I told you,” I say, between thrusts so deep and so hard the words hiccup out of me. “I told you, I’m not going to stop.”

Dani’s back arches even more, I hold her upright, pinning her on my dick. I’m her anchor in this fucking ocean, metaphorical and real. Her cunt clenches around me again, this time longer and harder, and she squirts and drips everywhere. She screams, wordlessly, jamming along to her own drum beat. I can’t take it anymore. It’s too good. It’s too fucking dirty good. My climax shoots from the base of my balls, through my dick, and I release inside her, six deep shots of my cum against those velveteen walls. “Yes,” I growl. “Yes. That’s good, Dani. That’s so good.” I slide out of her because I’m fucking dizzy from this. It’s sapped me of my energy. I stumble back, still with her in my arms, and sit down in the waves. They wash me clean of her juices, and her of mine.

She curls into my chest, burying her head in my neck. She doesn’t say a word. “We’re doing this again,” I say. “Tonight. There’s a banquet in the hall. You’ll be there.” She nods, her lips against the crook of my neck. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you back to your villa.” I’d stay with her all day, eat her pussy this time, but I’ve already got somewhere else I need to be. A meeting with my twin brother. The man I’ve just betrayed.

Chapter 5 Danielle I stand underneath the water and let it scour the salt from my flesh. Nothing can remove the sensation of Holden’s fingers biting into my skin, the thickness of him inside me, or the warmth of his cum dripping from my pussy. Every second of it was too good to be true. I can’t believe this has seriously happened. He recognized me this afternoon, and he wants to see me again tonight at the banquet.

My heart won’t quit doing flip-flops. This was the last thing I’d expected. All I’d wanted was a chance to be with him, even if he didn’t realize who I was behind the mask. An opportunity to get my obsession with him out of my system, but this was complicated. He knew who I was, weird that he’d called me Dani though, and that meant things were about to change in a big way. I step under the water and let it run through my hair and down my spine. Tonight, I’ll look perfect. I’ll do my hair and choose the most tempting dress for the banquet. This afternoon changed me. I’ve never been emotionally inhibited, and the fact that we experienced that together makes it so much more difficult not to fall harder for Holden. I’m already in too deep.

I sigh and scrub my hair, then wash the rest of my body, paying special attention to my breasts, my ass, my mound. God, just touching it reminds me of him inside me. He was a little rougher than I anticipated. Holden strikes me as the kind of man who takes control but is gentle. On the beach, he was all stick and hardly any sugar. And I do love the stick. I laugh and shake my head, then shut off the water and get out. I’ve got about an hour and a half before the start of the banquet—a notice was taped to my door when Holden dropped me off. He walked me all the way to the door. I rub my arms, still smiling, then roll my eyes at myself in the mirror over the marble sink. “You’re going to regret this,” I say, jabbing a finger at my reflection. “You should never have come here.”

But I can’t muster the guilt to back up the statement. I’m over the fucking moon. And now, it’s time to prepare. I dry and style my hair, leave it loose and curled, then cream up my entire body and slip into the sexiest dress I can find. It’s open-backed, and the straps crisscross over my breasts, lifting them and covering only my nipples. It descends into a form-fitting mini. I slip into high heels, painfully high and not what I’m used to, then totter over to the dressing table and rifle through the drawers. There’s D&G perfume, MAC makeup, everything a clued-up girl could want. I’m not that clued up. I spritz on some perfume and do my best with the makeup. It’s not flawless, but I look pretty darn hot.

I stand in front of the full-length mirror again and smoosh my breasts together. I’ll drive him crazy with this. I drove him crazy this afternoon, but this is naughtier than naked. It’s sparse, revealing. He could pull my skirt up and have his way with me right there, in front of everyone. Is that even a thing? Maybe this is a normal banquet and I’m totally over—uh—under-dressed? I fix my mask into place and inhale. Effect complete. I’m ready for him. A bell rings in the distance, and goosebumps rise on my skin. This is it. I’m about to attend my first ever banquet—possibly an orgy. I don’t even care about the other people that’ll be there. I don’t care about the sex. It’s Holden. It’s all Holden.

I leave the villa behind and teeter across the sand in my heels. “Bad idea,” I mutter. I’m Bambi on hot coals, right now. “Well, that’s a nice thought.” Gosh, these nerves have totally affected me. Holden Long. Holden. Mr. Long. I bite my bottom lip. Is it love or an obsession? I don’t care anymore. The pathway to the banquet hall is lit by fairy lights in palm trees. Soft laughter and music echoes from the entrance, and something else, too. The wet slap of bodies, moans, and grunts. Yeah, it’s definitely a banquet of food and flesh. A feast of both. And I’ll be his dinner tonight. I enter the hall, and my senses are totally

overwhelmed. Candles light a central table upon which food of every kind is arranged on silver and gold platters. Two smaller tables flank that central piece, both with women lying atop them, sushi arranged artfully on their bodies. Sofas face the tables, pressed back against the walls, and people lounge on them. One woman sits astride a man’s face and rocks back and forth, one breast out of her dress, and her eyes rolled back in her head. She’s caught in her own moment. There’s sex everywhere. Sex against the walls and on the floors. A billionaire devours a woman’s pussy on the table, knocking all the sushi aside in the process. Doorways lead off the main hall, into candlelit rooms I’m tempted to explore. But I don’t. I need to find Holden.

I walk a few paces into the room and stop, staring. Two men take one woman on a raised dais at the end of the hall. She suckles greedily on one fat cock while another pounds her cunt. The man behind her inserts his thumb into her ass and she keens, judders on the spot. Her legs go weak. She’s coming. The thought is surreal. It drifts out of the pit of my brain. My pussy tingles. What would that be like? Two men at once? I’ll never find out, of course. I belong to Holden, and he’s all I’ll ever want. He staked his claim this afternoon. Still, I can’t help but stare. The platinum-blonde caught between two men, dripping her own cum, pounded from both

ends. God, it’s hot. I shake my head to clear it and set off walking again. I won’t get anywhere watching these people. I want to find Mr. Long. My nipples pucker beneath the thin strips of fabric that crisscross my chest. The thought of him is enough to illicit that reaction. That and the groans from every corner. I leave the main hall behind and enter the first room. It’s decorated in purple velvet and matching candles. A woman lies on a sofa, masked, her double Ds on display. A man stands above her and drips hot wax onto her belly. “You like that, baby?” he asks. He’s naked, erect, ready for her. “Yes,” she hisses the reply. “More wax, and

then you fuck me.” She’s got a Southern twang to her accent. The man spots me and beckons. “Come,” he says. “Kiss her. Fuck her. She wants it.” I shake my head once and step back, out of the room. Holden. I only want Holden. The man and woman turn back to each other. He places the candle to one side, then kneels on the sofa and slowly parts her legs. “My cunt,” he says. “You want some dick, girl?” “Yes, please,” she whines and plays with her clit. He presses his dick—not as long or thick as Holden’s—into her pussy with a groan. “Fuck, so tight. That’s right.” I finally tear myself away from the sight and

walk off. I brace myself against the wall. This is all too much for me. The sex, the smell of it on the air, heady and sweet, and what happened this afternoon. I’m so fucking horny I could scream. And he’s nowhere around! He promised he’d come. He said he’d meet me at the banquet. But what if he’s changed his mind? What if he’s angry that he let go? I can’t lose this now. I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll make a deal. It will only be for this one weekend. We’ll pretend it never happened when we’re back in New York. Can I really do that though? Pretend after he made me come so hard I actually squirted? I walk farther and farther down a long hall. I

peek into one door and the room beyond is quiet and empty, lit by white candles, an empty sofa waiting a guest. Ahead of me is an exit that leads to the beach. I lean against the wall and catch my breath. If he doesn’t turn up in the next ten minutes, I’ll leave. I’ll go home, flick my own damn bean, and fall asleep. If he doesn’t come, it means he doesn’t want this to go on. I can handle that. Can’t I?

Chapter 6 Holden I tap the razor on the side of the sink in the bathroom and finish my clean up. I trimmed off the entire beard on Joey’s suggestion. His first words to me, the minute he entered my villa this afternoon, looking a little sunburnt, were, “What are you, a fucking grizzly bear?” “Clean shaven,” I say. It’s been a long time coming. I usually don’t grow beards, but I’ve been so fucking busy I haven’t bothered shaving. “Better,” Joey says, from the doorway. His

arms are folded, and he leans his side and his head against the jamb. “Much better. I didn’t think you’d come this year, bro.” “What, and miss out on all the pussy?” I snort, and he does, too. I’m not the meaningless pussy kind of guy, whereas Joey would swim in it if he could. “Nah, man. It’s good to see you again.” I slap on some aftershave then nod to my reflection in the mirror. I’m looking good. I haven’t had as much time to hit the gym as I’d have liked, but I’m still cut, and the tattoos that streak down my arms and across my abdomen complete the effect. That and the Gemini tattoo on my left pec. Joey has a matching one. Twin brothers through thick and thin. I grab my shirt from him and slip it on.

“You’re really going to the banquet?” Joey asks, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah.” “You never go to the banquet.” “So?” I frown at him. Ever since he walked in he’s been… different. Maybe being away from home has changed him. Fuck, if only I could afford to keep him in New York, but our business needs his tech savvy and his personality overseas. “So, it’s fucking weird,” Joey replies. “Why go if you hate it.” “Because I want to get my dick wet.” Plain and simple. The only way I’ll put my obsession with Danielle behind me is to get some strange. Masked strange. Weirdly, I’m not excited at the prospect. I don’t want strange pussy. I want her.

“I expect you’ll be there, too,” I say. “How many will it be this time? Three? Four?” My brother is a champion when it comes to this shit. I marvel at the fact that he hasn’t become bored with the endless line of women. “I’m not going,” Joey replies. “What?” I button my shirt and smooth the front, then grab the mask off the marble counter beside the sink. Everything in here screams opulence, from the marble crapper to the golden faucets. “Why not?” I fix the mask onto my face. Turquoise eyes stare out of the holes. “Just not in the mood. I fucked this afternoon,” he says. “Only once?” It’s a joke, but Joey scowls. “Hey, man, are you okay?” I’m not big on expressing emotion, but I cuff my little bro—one minute younger—on the shoulder. “You look like you’ve had a rough day. She take it out of you?”

“You could say that.” Joey yawns and blocks it with his fist, but I don’t buy the yawn or the nonchalance. Something is up with my brother. I don’t push, though. I’m not here to dissect his state of mind. I’m here to fix mine. “All right,” I say. “The bell rang a half hour ago. I’m going. Catch up with you tomorrow, bro.” I pat him on the shoulder and walk toward the door, fresh to death, ready for what will happen. “Yeah.” Joey follows me out into the sand. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything or anyone I wouldn’t.” “You can count on it,” I reply. I step out into the sand and trudge toward the boardwalk, which leads up to the back of the banquet hall. An open doorway greets me and moans beckon from within. The party is already in

full swing. Christ, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to fuck anyone other than her. And that’s exactly the reason I have to do this. I can’t jeopardize what we’ve got going on at home. I square my shoulders beneath my fitted cotton shirt, then step into the darkened hall, lit sparsely by candelabras and flickering light. I saunter down the hall and check the rooms but most are empty. A woman leans against the wall up ahead, her breasts magnificent beneath a strappy crisscrossed dress. It barely covers her nipples, which prick at the fabric regardless and leave nothing to my imagination. She raises her gaze and catches mine with chocolate brown eyes. Deep liquid pools of emotion that shock me to my fucking core. It’s Danielle.

Here. Behind that mask. In that dress. She leans against the wall as if it’s keeping her upright. Moans drift on the air, and I stare at her. How is this fucking possible? Did she follow me here? Or was she invited by someone else? The thought of some other billionaire laying his hands on her sets my blood fucking boiling. I won’t stand for that. She deserves better. She deserves me. “Hi,” she says and licks those plush lips, like two cushions. I want to lose myself in them. Devour them. I can’t fucking talk. I can’t move. This was supposed to be my opportunity to get away from

her, not dive right into her tight, hot pussy. And that’s exactly what I have to do now. I won’t turn away. Not with moans drifting down the halls and the slap of flesh, the grunts of men burying their cocks deep in the women of their dreams. This will fuck up everything. I can’t care anymore. The heat between us is insane, zipping, building, driving me closer to her. I take her by the arm and walk her into the room beside us. It’s decked out in white candles and there’s a sofa against the wall. It’s not exactly the romantic situation I envisioned for this, but fuck it —at least there’s a fucking door. I slam it shut behind us, then turn the key. No interruptions. “Mr. Long,” she says. Fuck me.

That’s already too much. She knows, and I know. “Danielle,” I reply and drag her into my arms, flattening my palms against her back. Her tits press into the cotton of my shirt. “Danielle,” I repeat, because this is fucking tangible. It’s happening. She’s here. I reach up and take hold of those ridiculous straps that hardly cover her body. I tug them down, and her breasts bounce free. Nipples exposed to the cool air, they pucker up even more, the skin pulling taut. Candlelight illuminates the curves, and I can’t tear myself away. I’m all in. I drag my fingers down the front of her throat, then cup both her breasts in my palms. They fill my hands, perfectly, and she lets out a hiss, arching toward me.

The nanny. I’m about to fuck the nanny. I massage her breasts and take in every reaction. Every tiny movement she makes. A gasp, the turn of her head, eyelids fluttering. She loves this. Memories of her moaning for me, over and over again, just days ago down the hall, tangle with my reality. I rip her skirt upward and drop down in front of her, forcibly spreading her thighs then find her naked, smooth pussy waiting for me. “Fuck, you’re wet,” I growl. “Only for you, Mr. Long,” she whispers. I grab the backs of her knees, catch her ass, and lower her to the wooden boards. She gasps at the sudden motion but doesn’t complain. “Open your legs wider, Danielle,” I say. “Nice

and wide. That’s right.” She obeys me and lifts herself on her elbows to get a good view of the show. Her eyes blaze in the holes of that damn, decorative mask. If not for the damn rules, I’d rip it off. But that mask is the only thing that keeps distance between what’s happening now and New York. If we keep these on, I can pretend it’s never happened. I lower myself between her legs and take in the sight of her pink swollen pussy. She’s dripping for me, slick beads dribbling from her hole and arcing down skin pebbled with goosebumps. Some of those juices have traveled all the way to her tight little asshole. My cock is so fucking hard it’s about to break free of my jeans. I reach down and adjust it then focus on my girl again. “You’re going to come like you’ve never come

before, Danielle. You’ll never forget this night.” Fuck it, this weekend. If she’s here, she’s mine. Mind made the fuck up. Danielle whimpers and writhes. “Please,” she says, and her legs tremble either side of my head. I kiss the inside of one thigh and then the other. Another whimper. She’s swollen for me, desperate. I turn my head and brush her clit with the tip of my nose. She yelps and arches her back. Nothing will stop me now. Nothing will keep me from claiming her as mine.

Chapter 7 Danielle It’s the first night of heaven with Holden. Mr. Long. He’s between my legs, teasing me, prodding my clit with the tip of his nose. “Please,” I moan. “Please, please, please, Mr. Long. Please!” Holden dives forward and buries his face in my pussy. He loops his arms around my thighs and holds them apart, pressing them farther and farther back, giving himself access to me. To my lips, my

clit, my soaked hole. His tongue curves inside me, plunges back and forth, back and forth, filling me again and again. It’s too much to bear. I’m already on the brink. “Mr. Long,” I groan and fist a handful of his hair. “Oh, god.” Holden feasts on me. He’s more focused than this afternoon. He pulls out and flattens his tongue against my lips, drags it upward to my clit then sucks, hard, circles my sensitive nub. The warmth drives me crazy. My legs kick, but he holds them in place. I’m captivated, stuck. I want nothing more than this moment. How can it be this good again? Even better. He drives two fingers inside me, and they

make wet, soft noises. He hooks his fingers and grazes my g-spot. I watch everything, my elbows, sliding out from underneath me every now and again as I shake and keen. “Going to come,” I manage. “Mr. Long,” I growl, my voice deepening as my orgasm builds. “Mr. Long, oh, fuck. I’m coming. I’m coming for you.” I slam backward, fall, my eyes squeezed shut, and I jam through the orgasm, clenching around his fingers, dragging his face closer to my pussy, holding it there as best as I can. “Good,” he says, around a mouthful of my clit. “Good. Again.” I whimper and try shuffling away from him, but he holds me fast. “Again,” he commands, sucking on my clit. His fingers pound into me, caress my g-spot, circle and press against it.

My aftershocks have barely subsided, but another climax builds within me, driven by those expert fingers and tongue, which lashes my clit yet again, demanding more from me. Back in New York, he runs a tight ship. He expects the best from me, and I give it to him, whether it’s packed lunches or cleaning up after dinner. I’ll do my best for him now. “Come for me,” he grunts. The bliss that explodes through me is different from the last time. It grows within, tingles at my clit and scours me clean. I squirt for him, come so hard my eyes roll back in my head, and my ass bumps up and down, up and down. “That’s it, fuck yes,” he says, and his voice is thick with desire. He releases my legs, and I lie there for a second, breathing hard.

“Look how much you came,” he says, his voice still dripping desire. I inhale and exhale, then sit up, my feet struggling for purchase in these heels. “I want it, too,” I say. “What?” “I want to taste you.” His lips twitch upward at the corners, that sexy smile that’d tempted me back in New York. “Ask nicely, Danielle,” he says, from behind that mask. God, it’s even sexier that way. “Please,” I whisper. “Please, I want to taste you.” He rises to his feet and towers over me, looking down, power seeping from him, making me wetter still, if that’s possible at this point. Holden tilts his head to the side and waits. “Come,” he says.

I get on all fours and crawl across the floor toward him, my gaze on the bulge at the front of his jeans. It’s as massive as I remember, but I need to taste it. Now. I halt in front of him and reach for the zipper. He catches my wrist and holds it. “Look at me,” he says. I do as I’m told. He’s commanding again, taking charge, but quieter now. I like this mood, whatever it is. Love it, actually. “Keep looking at me until I tell you to stop,” he says then undoes the button of his pants and unzips. He removes his dick from within, and I suck in a breath. It’s even bigger than I remember, and the candlelight flickers, picks up the pre-cum that already coats his head. He’s just as wet for me as I am for him. This is still surreal to me.

He’s my boss and for this weekend, and this weekend only, my lover. “Wet your hand,” he says. I spit on my free palm, and he releases the other. “You’ll need both.” He’s right, of course. I’ll work this dick with both hands and my mouth, too. Tasting his cum will complete this experience for me. I crave it. I smooth my palms down his shaft, relishing the veins, the girth, all of it. Holden grabs the back of my head and jerks it forward. I open my mouth and accept his dick. I suck and open my jaw as wide as it can go and an ache creeps along the side of my face. God, he’s huge. “Look at me, Danielle,” he says. “Keep

looking.” I fix my gaze on his and suck, work his dick with my hands and mouth. He forces me onto his dick, and my mouth walks along the shaft. His tip hits the back of my throat and I gag, swallow, go deep again. On repeat. This is too fucking good, once again. Holden thrusting into my mouth, me gagging on his length, is a fantasy of mine. It’s one I’ve come to in the past, moaning his name. “Don’t stop,” he commands. I go faster, get sloppier, gag a few more times, but keep it together. I’m wet all over again. He thickens between my lips, and my teeth graze his dick. I open wider still. “That’s it,” he growls. “That’s it, Danielle. Fuck it, you’re so good at that. Fuck.”

His desire spirals through the space between us. My eyes roll back in my head, then flick back and focus on him again. My Holden. My boss. Come in my mouth. Claim it. I’m yours. He pounds into my mouth, throws his head back and groans. “Coming,” he manages. Holden’s dick is impossibly big now. His head hits the back of my throat, and he pulses in my mouth, shoots his slightly salty, slightly sweet cum across my tongue. I lap it up, drink all he has, but more keeps coming. I take that, too, and swallow, gently lick the bottom of his tip clean. Holden pulls out slowly, grunting as he does. “Yes,” he says. “Christ, that was good.” He takes hold of my elbows and lifts me from the boards, then draws me into a hug and kisses the top of my

head. “So good.” I sigh and melt into him. This moment is even better than the sex. It’s emotional, connected, and I want to live in it forever. Does he feel the same way I feel about him? He’s got to realize that my attraction isn’t only physical. Meeting him changed my life, and being around him each day… it’s made me realize what I want in a partner one day, even if I can’t have him. I inhale his scent—spicy and warm, it clings to the insides of my nostrils. I’ll never forget it. Strange that he didn’t wear this cologne this afternoon. Holden releases me then fixes my skirt. He pulls it down so it covers my ass again, brushing the backs of his fingertips on my skin. Next, he lifts the straps to cover my nipples again. He fixes my hair, holds my cheek and strokes it, his turquoise blue eyes consuming me.

I sway in his grip. Why do you have to be this perfect? Mask or no mask, I can’t help falling for you. Stop, just stop, Holden. But he won’t, and I don’t truly want him to. Not now. What will happen when we’re back in New York? “Come on,” he says. “Back to your villa.” He takes my hand, and we walk to the door. He unlocks it with a dull click, and the thud of music and soft moans leaks into the room. We let ourselves out into the hall and walk the short distance to the boardwalk outside. Holden waits for me to take the lead and I do, walking back toward my villa. It only takes a couple minutes, but the tension between us grows with each step.

We halt in the sand outside my front door. “Thank you,” I say and lean in to kiss him. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?” He pecks my forehead, lets go of my hands, and steps back. “I have to go,” he replies. “What? Why?” My heart thuds in my chest. “This was a mistake. A big fucking mistake. It can’t happen again.” Holden runs his fingers through his blond hair and steps back. “I’m sorry, Danielle. I can’t jeopardize what we have going on.” And with that, he turns on his heel and strides off across the sand, without a backward glance. My insides curl into a ball of shame and I hover there, watching. Is this what heartbreak feels like?

Chapter 8 Joey I watch my asshole brother stride away from Dani’s villa, my fingers digging into the rough bark of the palm tree, my loose slacks tugged by the breeze. He’s effectively given up on her, on the reason I even invited her here in the first place. And if he’s given up on her, why the hell would I worry about his opinion? Dani stands there, staring after him, her mouth half open and her skin flushed. Did they have sex?

Naturally, they must have, but I can’t bring myself to care. Her eyes brim with tears, and my soul fills with anger. I don’t know this chick, apart from how she feels in my hands and on my dick, but I’m furious anyway. Maybe it’s because Holden has done this to her. There can’t be another reason for it. Dani steps back inside her villa and shuts the front door. Silence reigns, broken only by the gentle sweep of water on sand and distant laughter or something softer, more sexual. Fuck it. Dani deserves a good evening. Better than what my brother’s given her. I wait another ten minutes, with my back to her door, staring out at the ocean, and the reflection of the moon on its waters.

Finally, I slip out from behind the palm tree and stride toward the front of her house, shaking my head. This is stupid, it’s dangerous, but I haven’t thought about anything other than her since this afternoon. I was the one who invited her here. I was the one who claimed her first. Rightfully, I should have the chance to spend the weekend with her. And if he’s going to toss out his chance like this… You can’t betray him like this. She can’t know, yet. I halt in front of her door, clear my throat. I’m not the guy who hesitates. I party. I fuck. I enjoy my life. This is new fucking territory for me, and I don’t like it. I don’t like to share. I look down at my jeans and loose cotton shirt —the shirt is different than my brother’s, but in the

time since he left, it’s likely he might’ve changed. Christ, this is sleazy. But I can’t tell her yet. Not yet. Soon, but not now, when she’s upset, and she needs someone to help her feel good. What scares me is I’m not sure feeling good will entail sex. And I don’t even mind. Dani’s elusive. Whatever she’s done to me is magic. The taste of her, the feel of her, is embedded in my mind. She’s supposed to be my brother’s. That’s got to be the attraction. She’s supposed to be his, and I can’t stand that I don’t get her, instead. I knock on the door, then tuck my hands behind my back and wait. Footsteps, the rattle of a latch, and then the door swings inward. Dani stands on the threshold, wearing a pair of

loose cotton shorts and a camisole, her nipples pricking at the fabric. Hourglass figure, so sweet and tight, but none of that matters, now. Her eyes are puffy and red. Her hair is damp from the shower. “Holden,” she whispers. “Mr. Long.” I can’t do this if she calls me by his name. I extend my hand to her. “I’m sorry.” Words I never fucking say. I’m never sorry for anything. Never doubt anything, but I’m apologizing on my brother’s behalf. As much as I love him, he can be a jackass sometimes. “I was… confused.” She swallows but doesn’t take my hand. She folds her arms across her chest and squishes her breasts together, struggling to maintain eye contact. She’s so voluptuous, yet so tight at the same time. The woman is my fucking Aphrodite.

“Confused,” she says. “Yes, I hope you understand why.” I don’t even understand why. If this woman was my nanny, I’d have fucked her long ago. Shit, the thought of a live-in caretaker who looks like this… my dick twitches. “Things are complicated. Let’s go for a walk. We’ll talk it out.” I’m not asking because I’m not used to asking for anything. I take what I want. Always. “I—” She purses her lips, those kissable, fuckable lips, and inhales through her nose. “Mr. Long, maybe you were right. Maybe it’s better if —” I raise my index finger and press it to her lips. “Don’t think this weekend. Let’s make a deal. We’ll forget everything else and focus on this, together, the sand, the beach, the moon. We’ll deal with all that other shit later on.” Her lips are hot against my skin. She breathes against me and I

picture that on my neck, on my dick. “Let’s walk.” I take her hand, and she shuts the door behind her. She’s barefoot, cute, and a little cold. She wraps her arm around her waist and holds it there. “There were no coats in the closet,” she says and shakes her head. “Weird. There’s every type of lingerie, there are whips and even ball gags, but no coats. This is a strange place.” “Here,” I say and stop short. I unbutton my shirt and strip it off, then hand it over to her. She bows her head and shadows envelop half her face, the other half illuminated by the moon overhead. “Thanks,” she says and slips it on. She sniffs the collar, then frowns. “What’s up?” I ask. “Nothing, it’s just—nothing.” We link hands again and walk across the sand

together, a slow pace, drowning in the moonlight and the sounds of water lapping the beach. Crisp wind tugs at the shirt she clasps to her breasts and chills my skin. We stop just beyond the line of water, still hand-in-hand. She turns to me, traces my body with her gaze. “I love your tattoos. I’ve never seen them before. Around the house, I mean.” “No talk about the house. Or tattoos,” I reply. Specifically, not the meaning of the twins on my chest, back to back. Warriors. Brothers. “Talk to me about you. About your future. About what you want.” She chews her bottom lip and releases it, slowly. “I—well, you already know I want to be a pilot.” “Yeah,” I say and nod, though I had no fucking clue. I don’t know her at all, and Holden

does. Christ, that bites my balls. A pilot. That’s something special. How did she end up as a nanny? “I know,” I say, at last. “But we’ve never discussed it in detail.” Even now, standing side by side, we’re too far apart. I twirl her into my arms and hold her close. She lets out an adorable yelp. I take in the sight of her, the curve of her nose and arch of her strong cheekbones. Perfect American beauty. “Tell me more about it. Tell me more about what you want.” “What I want,” she repeats, almost as if talking to me like this is a dream, like she’s drifting through it toward me. “I want to travel the world. I want to see things that I’ve never seen. Experience cities and countries. I want to fly.” “You want to be free,” I say.

She wants to live like I do. She wants my life. So, she’s not made for Holden after all. “Yes,” she replies. “Usually, it’s the opposite.” “What? That women want to settle down?” She raises an eyebrow at me, and I absorb that defiance. “People do. Everyone wants a home and a family to go back to.” Except for me. “And so do you,” she says. “I—I’m sorry things have been difficult for you, lately.” “It’s fine.” I wave that away. “I try not to think about that stuff too much.” I release her, because holding her like this and talking about my brother’s home life makes me cringe hard, then take her hand again and walk her back down the beach. “So, you’re saving up to study.”

“Yes.” She nods, and once again, she’s lit up from the inside out. She stalls again, tugs on my fingers. “Holde—Mr. Long, did you invite me here? Was all of this planned?” Fuck. If only I could tell you the truth. But I have to figure out what I want to do about this, other than fuck her senseless again. “No. It was a surprise to see you here,” I reply. And that’s true. The first time I laid eyes on her she knocked me over. Tan and long-legged and tempting rolled into one. Her brow wrinkles. “Come on,” I say. “It’s getting late.” And if I stay out here a minute longer with her, I’ll take her in the sand. She doesn’t need that right now. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I walk her back to her villa, and we say goodbye on the doorstep. She makes to take off the

shirt, but I stop her with a kiss. “Keep it,” I say, then walk off, still bare-chested. At least she’ll have something of mine with her. A part of me hopes Holden will see it and flip the fuck out.

Chapter 9 Danielle I’ve never been a wallflower, but Mystique Island has unlocked a whole other side to me. Here, I’m brave, carefree. I’ll have sex in the waves where anyone might see, so a banana raft is nothing, right? The two-cylinder yellow craft floats alongside the makeshift dock, attached to the back of what has to be an expensive yacht, if the silver and white sheen is anything to go by. The driver wears a pair of aviator sunglasses—no mask for him—while the rest of us, ladies and billionaires—everyone’s rich here—line up on the dock, giggling, chatting,

wearing these ridiculous masks. We’re not allowed to take them off even now. I adjust my bikini top, two tiny triangles of wet-gold fabric, and rub my upper arms. I haven’t seen Holden this morning, and that’s fine. That’s the whole reason I’m down here. To prove that no matter what, I can still enjoy this weekend without being fixated on the man I shouldn’t have fallen for. Last night was a mixture of amazing and disappointing. I’m confused, and I despise that. I usually have my head on straight—it comes with the territory when there’s a five-year-old to look after. Besides, a clear head is something I inherited from my mother. A pang goes off in my chest, and I rub the spot

over my heart. Years have passed, but I still miss her like hell. “Lifejackets,” the driver of the boat calls out. “There on the dock. Strap ‘em on, people. We’re not going anywhere until you’re wearing them.” We meander over to the pile of bright orange jackets, and I pick one out, then slip my arm through the puffed-out holes. I strap it on, while all around me, men help their sex partners slip into theirs. I walk back to the banana raft then sit down on the edge of the dock and stare at it. I’m really going to do this. I’m not afraid of the water. Cautious certainly isn’t my middle name, or I wouldn’t be on Mystique in the first place, but it still kinda gives me the chills. It’s the ocean, the beautiful turquoise ocean. The color is a replica of Holden’s gaze.

That thought sends me into the water. Others join me and clamber onto the raft one by one. I join the back of the line and heave myself on board with a little help from the burly man in front of me. Women loop their arms around guys, and men chuckle. We’re ridiculous. The sun shines on our heads and bakes our backs, and our masks glimmer. We’re about to shed a metric ton of glitter into the water, and we’ll return to shore with sunburn in the shape of these damn masks, too. That’ll be the hot summer look this year. The boat’s engine roars to life, and I jolt, grabbing hold of the tiny blue handle in front of me. I squish around on the rubber and mentally prep myself. It’s all right. Just a raft. Gonna be fun. You’ve got a lifejacket. What’s a little water up the nostrils between friends?

The driver eases the boat away from the dock and put-puts out toward the open ocean at a crawl. It’s nice, actually, what with the breeze whipping my hair back and the chill chasing off the sun’s heat. I can get used to this. Palm trees and white sands wane, and the sun’s glare on the open ocean is almost unbearable. I release a sigh and squeeze my eyes shut behind my mask. “Let’s go!” a man yells in front of me, and I jerk with shock, eyelids snapping open again. The boat’s driver laughs and throws a thumbs up toward us, then rams the accelerator forward. We leap forward, and I shriek, redoubling my grip on the stupid plastic handle in front of me. My stomach whoops. We zoom along the water, crash over a swell, and keep going. We’re far out, way

too far out for my liking. I cast a glance over my shoulder, and my insides burn. The sand is a pale white strip, the trees barely visible. There’s a figure on the dock, but I can’t make out who it is. “I don’t like this,” I say, but my words are taken by the wind and dissolved by the rush. The boat turns in a long arc, and I let out another shrill squeal, along with several of the others on the raft. At least, I’m not the only pussy, ha. But there’s no comfort in that thought. My terror does not subside. My eyes squint from the sun and the speed. The maniac behind the wheel turns again, this time sharply, and the raft flings out sideways. One of my legs slips free with a rubbery squeak of doom. “No, no, no, no, no,” I yell, but

once again, my words are snatched away, and my mouth is crammed with wind. Violated by nature, god damn. This is not how I envisioned my weekend. My other leg slips free, and I ram my mouth shut, tight. This is it. This is how I die. Melodramatic, sure, but warranted. I cling to the raft for my dear life, but it’s like my fingers are coated in butter and the raft’s handle is made of… well, butter. I slide free in a great swoosh and smack into the water so hard it takes the air from my lungs. I’m under for a second, before the lifejacket— thank God for it—shuttles me toward the surface. I break it and splutter, choke. Hair clings to my forehead and gets in my eyes. There’s saltwater up my nose, and I sneeze-wince at the pain. It’s like my whole head is stuffed with water.

My neck pains, probably from whiplash, and that glittery mask is gone. I flail for a second, then calm myself. OK, I’ve got a lifejacket on, and the boat will circle around, right? I can’t be the only one who’s fallen off. I tread water and turn in a circle, ignoring the horror at what may be lurking beneath me. Sharks? Some great mythical beast, like, uh, the Kraken from Pirates of the Caribbean? “Stop,” I say to myself, and saltwater laps into my mouth. I spit it out in a fountain. “Ugh.” I search for the boat, but it’s already streaked off in the opposite direction. It’s way too far away. And it’s getting farther by the second. No one else has fallen off. They’re all still there on the raft, happy-go-fucking-lucky while I’m out here, crapping myself over sea creatures. “Hey,” I croak, but it’s never going to work.

I’m hoarse from screeching. I lift an arm, then flop it down, turn toward the distant strip of sand and refuse to panic. It’s still there, and the palm trees, and the dock, but… wait, what? It’s getting farther away. Farther by the second. I gasp and kick my legs, bob up and down like a cork. “No!” I can’t propel myself forward. I’m sucked backward by the sea. A rip current. My mother taught me about these as a kid. She told me— Don’t panic, if it happens. Don’t panic, there’s nothing you can do. You’re at the mercy of the ocean. Keep swimming. Swim parallel to the shore. Tears streak down my face, and I do as she told me long ago. I try for an easy breast stroke, but

it’s useless. My arms are weak. I choke and sob. “Stop it, you can do it. Don’t give up,” I whisper and keep going. Water laps my lifejacket. My legs burn. “Keep—” The sound of an engine cuts across my panic. I stop swimming and turn in the water. A boat! “Hey!” I croak-yell. “Hey! Hey! Help me, help. I’m over here. Oh, my god, please see me.” I wave my arms over my head and bob again, go under, and resurface. My vision is blurred by rivulets of sea water. “Please,” I splutter. Whiteness spreads in front of me. It’s the side of the boat. The side of the boat! I’m saved, thank god. Strong, tan arms reach down and grab hold of

me. I’m lifted free of the ocean, astounded by the strength of the person who’s saved me and tugged me on board. He wraps me in his arms, and I’m enveloped in spicy, slightly sweet warmth. Holden. It’s Holden. The thought brings a fresh wave of tears. I sob and rest my forehead against his collarbone, the top of my sopping wet head tucked under his chin. “What are you doing out here? Why would you come out here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? You could’ve died.” Anger snarls every word in the last sentence. “What would I do without you, Danielle? What would Jessie do without you?” He gives me a little shake. “I can’t lose you.” I can’t speak, can’t think. I cling to him and choke on my own tears.

Finally, the iron grip softens, and he strokes my back. “It’s all right. You’re safe now. You’re safe with me.”

Chapter 10 Holden I couldn’t be more fucking angry. What was she thinking? What is she even doing out here? She could’ve fucking died, and I would never have seen her again. Only heard about it from Port Authority after the fact. My nanny, the woman I’ve fallen for, dead out at sea. I stroke her back and use that soft brush of my skin on hers to calm the beast raging inside me.

Guilt sweeps through me. And if she had died? Her last memory of me would’ve been me telling her that I can’t do this with her, anymore. That I have to leave. How can I love this woman and let her go so easily? Simple, I can’t. I can’t. I kiss the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.” She’s stopped crying, at last. She pushes back from me, and I suck in a breath. A weight drops onto my fucking ribcage. She hasn’t got the mask on, now, and neither do I. I didn’t exactly anticipate any company out here. It’s the entire reason I left the island behind. I need time to think about everything that’s happened.

How am I supposed to think with her here? Her beautiful face is exposed. Puffy eyes, red nose, and still she’s stunning. My gaze drifts lower. She fiddles with the straps on the front of her lifejacket, shivering, fingers wrinkled. I gently nudge her hands aside and rip the straps off, then slip her out of the life jacket. I inhale sharply a second time. She’s lost her bikini top. It must’ve slipped out from under the vest, tugged free by the current. Her breasts are exposed to the open air, drying in the breeze, baked by the sun, two white triangles against tan skin. I look away and walk to the boat’s wheel, taking hold of it. I don’t start the engine or turn it. I’m just trying to hide the fucking erection tearing at the front of my shorts. “What are you doing out here?” I ask, again, and this time it’s arousal that snarls my words.

She hiccups but clears her throat. “I was on a banana raft thing,” she croaks. Christ, she’s hoarse, battered, afraid, and I’m worried about my cock. The thought sobers me and helps the situation downstairs. I walk to the cooler beside one of the benches and flip it open, I reach inside and grab a bottle of water then take it to her. She accepts it, still shivering, then unscrews the lid and drinks deeply. Water snakes from the side of her mouth and down her throat. I track the droplet all the way to her collarbone then leave her above deck. I duck down and rustle around in the small cabin on board, finding a towel in one of the tiny cupboards beside a single bed. I return to her then wrap it around her shoulders. “Here. That will help. I have candy bars. You’ll need sugar for the shock.” “I don’t want any,” she replies and sits down

on one of the benches, clutching the bottle between her hands. “I don’t want to eat.” I stand over her, my shadow shielding her from the glare. “You have to be more careful. You can’t go on one of those things alone. You need a buddy. Or friends who’ll make sure you’re safe.” “I’m not a child,” she replies, through chattering teeth. “Then don’t behave like one,” I snap. “Excuse me?” She levels me with a glare. “What’s your problem? I almost died and all you can do is—” “Almost died,” I growl. “Don’t you fucking get it, Danielle? You can’t die. I can’t be without you. I can’t live—” I cut off because that’s too far. She bows her head and focuses on drinking the water instead. The sun is hot to me, but the cool breeze is enough to offset it, and Danielle is in

shock. She won’t stop shaking, and I hate it. I hate every second of this. “Come,” I say and open my hand. “You need rest.” “I don’t.” “Come!” “No!” This damn woman doesn’t know what’s good for her. She’s endangered her life and is refusing sense all in one. I bend and tuck one arm under the backs of her knees, run the other under her back, then lift her from the bench and cradle her against my chest. She stiffens. “What are you doing?” “What’s best for you,” I reply and march her toward the stairs that lead below deck.

“Are you crazy?” Only for you, dumbass. I take her under, to the single bed with its saltkissed sheets, and lay her down on it, carefully. She doesn’t argue or flail around at least, just lies back on the sheets. The towel falls open and exposes her breasts and, again, I’m fucking hard for her in an instant. What is it about this woman? She’s my addiction, and I don’t even have an addictive personality, for Christ’s sake. “Sleep. I’ll drift a while longer then take us back to shore. Sleep, relax. Warm up. When you’re ready, there’s a candy bar waking for you on deck.” I turn to go, but she lets out a little noise that stops me mid-stride. “Wait,” she whispers.

There’s an iron rod between my shoulders. The temptation is too much. Her chocolate brown gaze bores into my back and I picture her, lips parted and quivering ever so slightly—the way they trembled in the throes of her orgasm at the banquet. “Please, Holden,” she says. “Stay with me.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now, I can’t leave. Not even if I want to. Which I don’t. “Stay with me.” I turn slowly, rocking along with the lap of waves against the sides of my boat. We’re anchored, we’re not going to get lost at sea, and I’m an experienced sailor. I can afford to stay here for a while, just until she falls asleep. “Please,” she repeats.

I face her and take in the sight of this woman, this tan goddess lying tangled in the sheets. Not a goddess, no, she’s a mermaid I’ve caught off the side of my boat. My personal siren, her ankles crossed, her dainty toes pointed toward the end of the bed. Her caramel hair is spread across the pillow, like slow-drying seaweed, and her pink-brown nipples are puckered still. She opens her arms and beckons. I walk to her side then lower myself next to her. I kiss her forehead because I can’t stop myself from doing it. If touching her is my sin, take me straight to hell. Danielle sighs and snuggles closer to me, runs her fingers down the side of my face, then cups my chin. “This is good,” she whispers. “I like lying with you.” I lift myself onto one elbow and trail my

fingers down her body, over one breast and then the other. She arches her back toward my touch, her eyelids fluttering open and shut. “Holden,” she whispers. This can’t go further. I did mean what I said yesterday, though I wish things could be different. “More,” she pleads. Fuck, I’m lost all over again. I bend and kiss her nipple, suck it between my lips, nibble gently. “Oh god.” She tastes of salt and the sea, my mermaid, and I lap it up, work my way from one breast to the other, gentle sucks, nips, and kisses, claiming her skin again. I’ve yet to fuck this woman, because doing that would mean losing myself completely. But she needs me now. She needs pleasure.

She’s scared. Her adrenaline is high. Eat her out. That I can do. I kiss a trail down the flat plane of her stomach, dip my tongue into her belly button and bring another gasp from her lips. I could subsist on them. Christ, she’s delicious. She’s everything. I make my way lower and lower, to the line of golden bikini bottom. I tug it down, just enough to allow me access, then feast on her clit. She cries out and shudders, tangles her fingers in my hair and tugs me into her body. Her pussy is cold, still moist from the ocean, but each lick warms it up, and the moisture becomes dripping, smooth wetness. Her cum is like honey to me, and I lick a line from her hole to her clit, relishing that flavor.

I insert two fingers inside her and go slow, hooking them and brushing her clit. She moans and rolls her hips, accepts what I have to give, pulls my hair again. “That’s right,” I say, against her clit. “That’s my girl. Come for me, Danielle. Come for me.” “Anything for you,” she whispers, and her tone warbles it’s so full of emotion. It’s not only pleasure—it’s danger. All of this is dangerous. I’m already in love with her. I haven’t even been inside her yet, and I’m in love with her. Nothing scares me except this. I’ve conquered the world. I’ve created my own space transport company. I’m on the verge of the next frontier. But Danielle, this sweet, precious nanny, brings me to my fucking knees.

I pound my fingers inside her, dive in and out, suck on her clit, tap it with my tongue then sweep it across. I even out my motion, creating a steady rhythm that will surely break her. Danielle cries out. “Holden, I’m coming. I’m coming for you.” She clenches around my fingers, pulses and moans, kicks her legs out. I watch her, the mounds of her breasts thrust upward, her long slender neck exposed, head thrown back. My Danielle. Except she’s not. She never can be.

Chapter 11 Danielle I rock back and forth, back and forth, swaddled in warmth and comfort, apart from my throat. God, it burns. It’s so sore I wince with every inhale. The gentle sound of water against wood brings me right out of a dream—a good one. Holden between my legs, eating me, his forever-ocean gaze fixed on me as I come. But that wasn’t a dream, it truly happened. My eyelids snap open and I groan, clutch my

head. It hurts. I feel as if I’ve been dragged backward through the waves. Technically, that’s true. “Holden?” I croak and struggle upward, palms flat to the mattress of the single bed in the cabin. There’s a porthole above my head, but other than that, there’s no light. Sunlight graces the wall opposite, illuminating a patch of empty white wall. “Holden?” I repeat. No answer. The last thing I recall is coming on his fingers, then flopping backward. Shit, I fell asleep. I fell asleep right after he made me orgasm. I’m such a dick. I didn’t return the favor for him, but then, he could’ve stuck around and cuddled me.

My head throbs, and I groan again and press my palm to my temple. There’s got to be an aspirin in this cabin, because if there isn’t, I might just pass the fuck out again. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and place them on the boards below. The boat rocks, but it’s not as bad as out at sea. I rise, unsteadily then make my way toward the door a few feet from the base of the bed. I’m naked from the waist up—Holden must’ve pulled my bikini bottoms into place after—but I can’t care right now. “Must have aspirin,” I grunt and immediately regret it. I wrench the door open, stumble, and hold myself upright, then squint at the glare. It’s still daytime, but the sun is higher, at its zenith. It’s noon or slight past it. I make my way up the stairs, wobbling on fawn legs, then stand on the deck and

look around. We’re docked back on Mystique Island. People laugh and joke around nearby, running around in the surf or fucking on the sands. The boardwalks between boats and yachts are largely empty apart from a couple avid sailors or lovers. No Holden in sight. What the hell? Did he leave me here? I blink and try clearing my head, but it doesn’t work. I need that damn aspirin, like yesterday, and there’s definitely some back in my villa. I’ll have to hoof it. If Holden couldn’t hang around and wait for me to wake up, I wouldn’t give him the same courtesy. Damn, I’m so done with his hot and cold behavior. It’s driving me crazy. He saves me from the ocean, then screams at me. Makes me come, then leaves before I wake up.

Maybe the pain in my head isn’t from nearly drowning but from him whiplashing me the fuck around. I get off the boat and stride down the boardwalk, the planks thundering beneath my bare feet, and I grimace with each step. It’s not just my head that aches, but my legs are weak and watery, as well. What a perfect damn day. Half-drowned, eaten out, then abandoned. “Get over it,” I mutter. I’m on the brink of accepting that this is simply the way it’s going to be. He’s going to want me but reject me constantly, and I’m going to… ugh, I have no idea what, yet. I track across the sand, and a couple turns and watches me pass. The guy is balls deep in his lady, their masks still fixed to their faces. He thrusts real slow and she moans, cups her breast and grins at me. She’s got that come-hither look going on.

I quicken my pace and finally hit the shade of the palm trees. I walk between them, and the coolness soothes my headache a little. I’m still not clear to think about anything serious, though, so I avoid the mental topic of Holden all together. Five minutes of walking, and I reach my villa. I let myself into the coolness, shut the door behind me then make a beeline for the bathroom and the little medicine cabinet affixed to its wall. I rip a bottle of the good stuff down and fiddle with the kiddie-proof cap. “Fuck.” My fingers slip on it again and again. “Oh my god, I’m over twenty. I swear to god! Let me in.” Finally, I get it off and crunch two of the suckers between my teeth. I relish the bitterness, then bend and drink water straight from the faucet. It gurgles down my throat and I sigh. “That’s the stuff.” It’s as if I left the villa five days ago, not this

morning. The entire event has traumatized me a little. My stomach grumbles. So much for trauma, I’m starving. I straighten and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is mussed by the salt and breeze, and it sticks up weird at the side from the way I slept on the boat. Shower first, food after. I start up the shower and admire the open plan of it, the glass walls, and the space. There’s even a seat along the only tiled wall. I step inside, go over to it, sit down, and let the water wash over me. The heat is delicious. It soaks through my skin and bones, and I remove my golden bikini bottom and toss it aside. I massage soap over my skin, work it into a lather and wash off, then do the same with shampoo in my hair. Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom in a robe, on a cloud of steam.

I’m still not thinking about Holden Long or New York or my plans for the future. I’m on autopilot. Food. Food. Food. I hit the kitchen and open the fridge, grinning at the array of delicacies. It’s fully stacked with fruit, vegetables, cool drinks, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, caramel… Anything I could want. I’m drooling already. I take out strawberries, pineapple, raspberries, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. The pineapple is already cut into bite-sized pieces. Gosh, I could get used to living here. I load all of it onto a tray and grab a bottle of water, too, then walk it through to the open living area. I set it down on the coffee table then lower myself to the sofa. “Where to start,” I mutter. I reach for a strawberry.

A knock bangs against the front door of the villa and I freeze, a frown wrinkling my brow. So far, I haven’t been disturbed here. It’s a long weekend, and the owners of this place seem set on keeping it as peaceful as possible. I bite my lip, tummy still growling, then rise from my seat and trundle over to the door. I unlock it and open up. Holden stands on the doorstep. He’s changed out of his shorts and shirt and into a pair of slacks and a button down. The mask is back in place, and his turquoise eyes blaze behind the mask. “I’ve been looking for you,” he says. “Where did you disappear to?” “I could ask you the same thing,” I reply and narrow my eyes at his gruffness. Possessive then soft, hot for me then cold as a wet fish. I’m so over being jerked around, but it’s him. It’s Holden. “May I come in?”

I hesitate. If I let him in… what? We’ll have sex, and I’ll be even more confused. But how can I complain? I came here hoping he’d find me or vice versa. That we’d have some fantastic sex and then return to our normal lives. Now, it seems crazy. A terrible idea. Regardless, I step back and let Holden inside. He sweeps past me, his scent lemony and sharp, rather than the spice from the boat. He’s changeable in so many ways, and it’s alarming as hell. “Eating?” he asks. “Yeah, well, almost drowning took it out of me, you know? That and you making me come on your boat, then abandoning me there.” I can’t help the accusation in my tone. Holden stiffens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He clenches his fists, then releases them again. “Let me make it up to you.”

Chapter 12 Joey It was too much to hope that they wouldn’t fuck. I knew that the minute I saw him leaving her villa last night. I should’ve let go of her then, but I can’t. I just fucking can’t. I sit down on her sofa and adjust the legs of my chinos. She stands on the other side of the coffee table, glaring at me. “Make it up to me? How? By telling me that you can’t do this again?” “No. Sit down.” I pat the sofa beside me. It’s

past time I tell her the truth. Show her that I’m more than she’ll have with my brother. That I can give her more. And I fucking want to. What the fuck’s gotten into me? It must be the threat of competition that’s got me hooked on this chick. Dani circles the coffee table, slowly, in nothing but that short cotton robe that cuts across her tan thighs. My gaze wanders up and down her body, takes her in. Where has he touched her? What has he done to her? Did she come as hard with him as she did with me? Fuck, I hate this. I hate this and love it at the same time. I’ll make her mine again, just so she’s clear on that fact, but she has to know who I am

first. She has to understand who’s claiming her. Dani sits down beside me then reaches for a strawberry. She dips it into a bowl of whipped cream, lifts it to her lips, then hesitates. “I’m really hungry,” she says. “Go ahead.” I’m ready. I open my mouth to tell her what she needs to hear. Dani inserts the strawberry between her lush, full lips and sucks the cream off the end. Her tongue circles it, laps it up. She draws the fruit into her mouth, slowly, bites down, then moans. “So good.” All the blood that previously inhabited my brain rushes right to my cock. I spring to attention and graze the inside of my chinos. Fuck. I have to tell her. This is no excuse.

She dips another strawberry in chocolate syrup and sucks on that, too. Another bite, another moan, and I lean in, look down the front of her robe. It hangs open, welcoming me to the sight of her tits, perky, the nipples erect. “Jesus,” I mutter. “What?” she asks, as if she doesn’t know what she’s doing to me. She takes a raspberry this time, spears it with her pinkie, sweeps it through the whipped cream, and then sucks it off her finger with a light pop. “You OK?” No, I’m not fucking OK, but I’m gonna be. I push her robe off her shoulders and expose her breasts. “Fuck,” I growl. She gasps but doesn’t pull away. “Look at you, fuck me. Look at you.” I pick up a strawberry, scoop up some whipped cream

with it, then drag it across her right nipple. I force her back on the sofa, climb on top of her, and suck the cream from her flesh, suck and circle that pebble. Fuck yes. Fuck me. I rip the robe’s belt free and toss it to the floor. Dani’s lips part, and I claim them hot and fast, taste the sweet tang of fruit on her tongue, and the richness of chocolate and cream. “Yes,” I grunt and run my palms down her tight body. I kneel in front of her, pull her onto my lap, and grind her cunt against the front of my pants. She leaves a trail there. She’s already wet for me. “Oh, god,” she growls. “Mr. Long,” I say, with a smirk. A frown flickers across her brow, then disappears. “Mr. Long,” she repeats.

I unleash my dick from its fabric prison, grab its base, and run it between those ready lips, swollen for me, glistening, pink and precious. My pussy. “My pussy,” I say, out loud. “Your pussy,” she replies. “Say it again. Say it’s mine.” I prod her entrance with the tip of my cock, already seething with desire, leaking pre-cum for her. I toss the strawberry aside, dip my finger into the chocolate syrup in the bowl, and smear it across her lips. Dani catches that finger and sucks on it. I slide my dick into her a tiny bit, just enough to tease, to widen that hole I pounded yesterday. “Whose pussy is this?” I ask. “It’s yours,” she says, around my finger, then sucks again, hard. The warmth of her mouth rivals that sweet cunt. She’s soft everywhere. Soft and supple and mine.

“Say it louder. Scream for me, baby.” I thrust into her, one long pump, and fill her completely. “It’s yours, Mr. Long,” she shrieks, grasping for purchase on the sofa. I lift her legs and hook them around my waist. “My pussy is all yours. It belongs to you.” “That’s right,” I reply. “It belongs to me and no one else. No one. Else.” I thrust into her, slam my foot onto the ground for leverage, and pound that hot, tight cunt again and again. I place my thumb on the pearl that is her clit and circle it with a steady pressure. She tightens around me and shrieks again. “Too good!” “It’s going to get better,” I growl. “Dani, I’m going to fill you with cum. Every day, I’ll fill you with cum. Do you want that?”

“Yes!” She’s lost, her eyes glazed over with hunger, approaching her orgasm. Tell her. Tell her who you really are. I fuck her harder, probe her for that orgasm, my girth spreading her walls, forcing her open. I graze her g-spot again and again, increase the pressure with my thumb, watch my cock slide in and out of her, increasingly wet, shimmering with our combined fluids. My gaze drifts upward to that pussy, to the flat plane of her stomach and that little belly button. I’ll come there next, come all over her body, her tits, too. She’s already had me inside her. Now she needs it on her skin. She’ll never forget this moment. “Fuck,” she moans. “Fuck, I’m going to come.” “That’s right, come for me.”

Her back arches, and she lifts off, her legs tightening around my waist. I rise with her. Dani comes hard, milks my dick for the second time, and once again, I have to hang on to my sanity to keep from filling her right away. But I won’t. She’ll come again before this is over. And she’ll know. She’ll know who’s made her explode like this. Holden can’t do this to her. I’m the only one who makes her come like this. I have to believe that. Dani lowers herself again, the aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her cunt, but I don’t stop. I keep circling her sensitive, swollen bud and pumping her. Deep shots with my dick, which thickens at the thought of what I’ll do next.

“You want to come again, baby?” “Please,” she whimpers, her tits bouncing with each thrust. She’s tightening around me again, ready to blow. I’ve got minutes until it happens. This is it. This is how I want her to find out. It’s fucked up, but I want her to come knowing that it’s me who’s claimed her. Who’s driven her mad these past two days. That I’m the one who fucks her with reckless abandon, who doesn’t hold back. Because she’s mine, now. It’s decided. “I’m going,” she moans and rises again, her tight little ass lifting from my thighs. “Holden, I’m going to come for you.” On the brink. Perfection. “Not Holden,” I say and tear my mask free. Her eyes widen.

“I’m Joey. His brother, Joey.” “Wha-aa—oh, my. Fuck!” She crashes around me. Her cunt tightens so hard it sucks me in deep and holds me there. She knows, and she loves it. She loves that it’s me. She’s lost in rapture again, but this time, her eyes are open, her jaw dropped, and she’s focused on me. “That’s right, baby,” I growl. “It’s Joey. I’ve come inside you. Claimed you. I took you on the beach yesterday. You’re mine. Do you like that?” If she doesn’t, I’ll pull out. “Do you like that it’s me instead of him?” Her pussy tightens so hard I swear I can’t move. “Yes,” she howls. “Yes, Joey, yes. Oh, god.” She screams my name, and it’s too much for me.

She fucking loves it. She fucking loves that it’s me. I pump three more times, then pull out and squirt my cum all over her stomach, into her belly button, then on her tits, then lower myself and squirt on top of her mound, my balls pressed to the still throbbing flesh of her pussy. “Mine,” I growl. “You’re mine, Dani, and don’t you forget it. You belong to Joey, now.” She doesn’t say a word, just drops her head back against the side of the sofa, breathing hard, still staring in a mixture of disbelief and bone-deep satisfaction. I win.

Chapter 13 Danielle I lay there, with Holden’s brother’s cum on my belly, my breasts, my pussy, and stare up at him, the aftershocks of the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had rocking through me. What. The. Fuck. I stammer wordlessly. How is this possible? How could this have happened, and why didn’t he tell me sooner?

“You’re—” I manage. “Yes,” he replies and stands up. He tucks his moist dick back in his pants and zips up, then walks away. I’m stunned. I should feel violated or betrayed, but I don’t. Every second I’ve spent with him has been magical. But does that mean it was only him? Just Joey Long, the twin brother I never realized Holden had? He mentioned a brother, but I had no idea they were identical twins. No wonder they smell different. No wonder Holden has been hot and cold. It hasn’t been just him. I’ve fucked them both. Or at least, I’ve fucked Joey and sucked off Holden. This is incredible. It’s terrible. “This is a nightmare,” I say, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes. This is a fucking

nightmare. All I wanted was a weekend with the man I’ve fantasized about and now… this. But what is this? I came hard the minute he told me it wasn’t Holden, that it was him. Like his truth, the one that should leave me feeling dirty and betrayed, instead unlocked some great desire inside me. The connection we have is unbelievable. Footsteps approach, a beat passes, and then Joey drags a damp towel down my body. He cleans me off, focuses on my breasts, my belly, and then my pussy. He takes special care with my lips and clit. “I don’t understand how this happened,” I say and drop my hands. He offers me one of his, and I actually take it. Why does it feel so natural with him? Even now, when he should be a stranger to

me, he isn’t. He’s not strange, he’s familiar, but not in the same way Holden is familiar. It’s like my body understands what happened even while my brain reels to catch up. Joey sits me up then takes the seat next to me, still holding my hand. My robe is open, my pussy still wet with my juices, throbbing with aftershocks. “How?” “I invited you here,” he says. “What?” “Yes,” he replies. “For Holden. I knew he was obsessed with you but that he’d never act on it, but when I saw you down on the beach, I couldn’t resist. Something about you called to me, Dani. Something in the way you move, how sweet you looked in your white cotton dress.” “So, it was you on the beach,” I say. “Yes. It was me. I claimed you that first day as

mine. I still feel that way. You belong with me.” “Belong with you?” I swallow. This is too much. I’ve loved Holden since I met him, and I definitely don’t know a thing about Joey. Certainly, not enough to claim I love him. Have I loved every second of being with him? Yes, because I’ve loved everything about this past day and night, apart from crying. The real Holden was probably the one who told me he couldn’t do this anymore. The one who saved me on the boat then abandoned me. The cold Holden. The hot Joey. I’ve liked the time I’ve spent with both of them equally but hated the confusion. Now, everything’s clearing.

“You should’ve told me,” I say and focus on Joey again. “You—you tricked me.” “I know,” he replies. “Trust me, I’m not big on lying, but fucking you was… it was like I couldn’t stop. And when I wanted to tell you, I found you crying because of something Holden had said.” Last night, he was the one who came and took me down to the sand. He walked with me and wanted to know more. He cared. “I wanted to tell you now,” he says. “That’s why I came to the villa. I was here this morning but you were already gone. I went to the docks to find you, but it was too late.” Joey brushes my hair behind my ear and holds my lobe for a second, then releases it. “You, uh, you distracted me with the fruit.” I glance at the abandoned syrup and cream, the strawberries, pineapple, and raspberries. “Sorry,” I say.

“What? No.” He laughs. “Listen, I’m not big on apologies, but if anyone owes one, it’s me. If I hadn’t led with my dick, none of this shit would’ve happened. Or maybe, I’d have told you sooner.” Joey holds my hand, and I pick out the differences between him and his brother. A mole beside his nose, more of a beauty spot, small and covered by the mask this entire time, and the warmth in his eyes. He’s more relaxed than Holden. Stop. This is wrong. You can’t betray Holden like that. If anything, the confusion is way worse. Two brothers. Both on the island, and both of them have made me orgasm. “What do I do?” I whisper and shake my head. “This is a disaster. What do I do?” “You don’t have to do anything,” Joey replies,

then lifts my hand and brushes his lips across the backs of my knuckles. Heat surges through me. God, my core tightens for him all over again. This is ridiculous. I should feel violated, but it’s like he’s my oldest friend, like we’ve known each other forever. “I do,” I say. “I have to speak to Holden about this. I—I’m sorry, Joey, but I came here for him. As much as I’ve enjoyed being with you, this isn’t fair. I—a” “No.” He squeezes my fingers. “No. None of this is your fault. I’ll handle Holden.” “Handle Holden?” The voice that whips through the room is that same whipped velvet I fell in love with back in New York, except it’s kinked with anger. It’s broken with emotion. I look up. Holden stands in the doorway of the villa, his

hand on the knob of the front door. He holds it open and glares at us. Me naked, my robe hanging open, my cheeks still flushed from sex with his brother. No, no, no, not happening. “Holden!” I jerk my hand from Joey’s grasp and wince. It’s fucked up to do that, but I can’t help it. This is the man I’ve been infatuated with for a month. The one I followed here. And he thinks I purposefully betrayed him. “What the fuck is going on here?” Holden growls. I leap to my feet and take a step toward him, grasping at the ends of my robe. He holds up a palm to me and I stop. Holden points at his brother. “Explain.” Joey shifts to his feet beside me, the lemony cologne drifting toward me. I tighten again and hate

myself for it. “I invited her here,” he says, evenly. “For you. But shit doesn’t always work out the way you plan it. Right, bro?” Tension bubbles through the room, long, thick ropes of it connecting the two men, drawing them toward each other. Muscles clench, jaws twitch, fists balled up at their sides. This can’t be happening. “I didn’t know,” I say. “I’m so sorry, Holden, I thought it was you the entire time.” It’s the truth, but I still feel like I’m throwing Joey under the bus, and I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t care. He lied. But so have I. I’ve lied to myself, because I can’t fucking imagine going back to New York and pretending like none of this has happened. “She’s telling the truth,” Joey says and places a warm, massive hand on the back of my neck and holds me there. It’s such a possessive gesture, but I don’t

shake him off. “She didn’t know that it was me who gave her the best orgasm of her entire life until just a few moments ago.” Joey grits his teeth. “And then she came even harder.” “Stop.” I step away from him, and he lets his hand fall. “Motherfucker,” Holden growls. “What the fuck have you done? You had no right bringing her here. You had no right to touch her.” “Touch her! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I snap. “I’m not a commodity to be pulled apart between the two of you.” They ignore me and stare daggers at each other. “This is ridiculous,” I say. “It’s a mistake, and we’ll figure it out, OK? Just, don’t get angry with each other over this. Don’t. You’re brothers.” Oh

god, and I’m the one tearing them apart. Joey doesn’t speak. Neither does Holden. Those ropes of tension connect them in their silence. It feels as if the whole room is about to explode. Is there any resolution to this? Because I sure as hell can’t figure what that’s going to be. “I invited her here,” Joey says, as if that’s the end of the matter. Holden squares his shoulders, rage bubbling across his expression. “She wasn’t yours to invite. She was always my girl.” Since when?

Chapter 14 Holden Fury isn’t the correct term for this feeling. It’s as if every cell in my body is on fire, and each one screams for me to wrap my hands around my brother’s throat and throttle the fuck out of him. “Your girl?” Joey asks and scoffs at me. He’s still next to her. She’s stepped away from him at least. They’re not touching anymore, but he’s still beside her, in the space where I belong. The space I should’ve taken before this fucking weekend

started. If I had, then he wouldn’t be there, and she wouldn’t have come to Mystique. Instead, we would’ve been out somewhere else, together. “My girl,” I growl. “Please,” Joey replies. “You haven’t had the balls to take her properly. To give her what she deserves. She’s not your girl. She’s never been yours.” “I am right here,” Danielle hisses. “Stop talking about me like I’m in the next room.” Joey pats the air beside her, a calm-down gesture that achieves the opposite effect. Somewhere in the distance, probably by the banquet hall, a bell rings, signaling the start of another late afternoon party. “Danielle,” I say, and focus on her.

A shiver passes over her, and it gratifies me. She truly is my girl. She moans my name while she masturbates, for fuck’s sake. “I know you didn’t realize what was going on,” I say. “None of this is your fault, and that’s fine, but this is… difficult for me. This is my brother.” I have to focus on her to keep from ripping that brother’s head off and throwing it across the damn room. He’s the one who’s betrayed me. We’re the twins, the Gemini twins. Two billionaires. Two warriors back to back, defending each other. Danielle bows her head but doesn’t say anything. Her fists clench at her sides. This must be shit for her, but I can’t contain my jealousy. It’s a beast, roaring in my chest, demanding I own her, that I prove that she’ll never be my brother’s. That she’s always been mine. That she

loves me. “She enjoyed every second with me,” Joey says and puffs up. He wants this to blow up. That’s his aim. I won’t give him the satisfaction. I’ve always been the one who’s in control, while he’s prone to losing his temper. “She thought it was me,” I reply and let out a little laugh. “You’re playing second string again, Joey, just like in college.” “I’ll fucking kill you.” “Stop!” Danielle shouts. “Stop it. If you don’t, you’ll have to leave.” “Choose,” I say, even though it’s fucking ridiculous, and I shouldn’t ask her this, not when she’s still in shock after just finding out it was my brother who summoned her here. “Choose which one of us you want.”

“You can’t—I—what?” She grips two handfuls of hair and tugs on them, the silken caramel strands poking from between her fingers. “You expect me to choose, now?” Joey eyes her out. He wants an answer, too, the fuckhead. “Don’t tell me lies,” I say, because the green monster behind my thudding heart won’t stop. It won’t take no for an answer. “I know you love me.” “You—you do?” “You love me,” I reply. “Just like I love you.” Joey grunts as if I’ve punched him in the stomach. God damn, I wish that were true. “You love me,” she whimpers. “Yes,” I reply, and for once, it’s easy for the words to slip from my tongue. The emotion comes

freely because it’s her, and I’m close to losing this for good. “I love you.” “I—I’ve been in love with you since we met, I think,” she whispers. “I only came here to find you. But—you, you didn’t want me. You pushed me away.” Danielle’s liquid brown eyes are aflame now. “You told me that it can’t happen. That it’s too complicated. I’m your nanny, for fuck’s sake.” The words hiss free of her. “And you’re right. This is way too—” I stride across the space that separates us and take her in my arms, turn her away from Joey. I press her naked body against the front of my Tshirt, brush my fingers down her jawline, then kiss her, hard. She whimpers and leans into me. I part her lips and kiss her, taste her, claim her as I should’ve before this all started. “Mine,” I say, into her mouth.

“No.” It’s Joey. He’s still here. Still standing there, staring at us. “Fuck off,” I say, then kiss my girl again. Danielle whimpers, and I cup both her breasts, brazen now. I’ll prove that she’s mine, prove it to everyone. I pinch her nipples, and she jerks in my grasp. Her robe falls free and drops to the floor. I slide one hand up and into her hair, tug lightly, and continue kissing her. Movement catches my gaze. Joey’s behind her, now, and he lowers himself to his knees. “She’s not just yours, anymore.” I stiffen. He’s touching her. He’s touching my woman. Danielle’s eyelids flutter open, and she gasps. A moan escapes her, and she arches her back, presses her breasts against me, and throws her arms around my neck. “Oh, my god,” she whimpers,

body trembling. He’s eating her out. Fucking prick. He’s trying to take her away from me. I kiss her again, harder, drawing her attention to me and my lips instead of what he’s doing to her pussy. My girl. That’s all that matters. I’m the one who’ll make her come hard. I’ll get her out of here, take her away from him and— Danielle jerks against me and moans into my mouth. She’s alive, twisting in my arms, wild and free. She sucks on my bottom lip, then reaches down between us and grabs my cock. Her reactions drive me insane. In the time I’ve been here on this island with her, we still haven’t fucked, and I need that now more than ever. Danielle nibbles my lip, then catches my

tongue and sucks that next. She’s insatiable, and I take her breasts in my hands again, massaging and circling the flesh with my warmth, pinching and teasing. She moans and focuses on me, her gaze brimming with so much lust I can almost taste it. She’s a furnace, burning up, quivering and heaving against my chest. I loop my arm around her waist and hold her up and she arches her back, presses her ass outward. Wet, soft, licking noises drift up from behind her, but I can’t give a shit. Danielle fills my vision, every flutter of her eyelashes and breath that escapes her lips. She drags her hand up and down my cock, outside of my shorts, huffing, puffing, wanting more of it. More of me. “Please,” she whispers. “Please, Mr. Long.” She could be talking to either of us, but that

was meant for me. It has to be. “You want it,” I grunt. “Please,” she whimpers, again. “Take it.” She fumbles with the tie on my board shorts, gets it undone, and shoves them down. They drop to the floor and my dick springs free, hard and wet for her. Dripping as it did at the banquet when she polished me off so good I whacked off back in my villa afterward. Danielle slides her fingers over my tip, then down the shaft. She grips tight and strokes, rubbing it against her body and her palm. “Yes,” she groans. “Oh, yes. Oh, god, baby, I want to come so bad. I want to come so bad.” She shuts her eyes but doesn’t quit stroking me.

I take her hand, spit in it, then fix it back on my dick. She moans and writhes, quickens the pace on my dick. I tingle for her. Fuck. I’m ready to fill this woman, now. “I want to come,” she moans. “Please, let me come. Can I come?” “Come,” Joey commands. It should be a shock to my system, but it’s not. It’s like hearing my thought spoken out loud, with my voice, from another place. “You can come, baby. You can come for Mr. Long.” Danielle tightens her grip on my dick and fucking rages against me. She loops her other arm around my neck, ass still pressed outward, and sucks on my lip. She bites down on it and moans between her teeth. “Coming, oh, fuck, I’m coming.”

She rocks and rolls. She’s coming so hard I nearly come with her, squirt all over her hand instead of inside her cunt where I belong. Finally, the orgasm subsides, and she collapses against me, breathing hard. “So good,” she whispers, her voice still thick with desire. “So good.” “I’m not done yet,” I growl. Joey’s still in the room, and he needs to fucking learn that this woman is mine. So I’ll claim her, and if he witnesses that, all the better. Then he’ll finally fuck off. “On the sofa,” I growl. “Now.” I grip her upper arm and drag her there.

Chapter 15 Danielle Holden drags me toward the sofa, past the coffee table still bearing its tray of fruit and sweets. I’m barely over my orgasm. It’s the third I’ve had today, and I’m spent, but this isn’t over. Holden, my Holden, says it’s not over. “On your hands and knees,” he says. Joey’s still crouched on the floor, his lips glistening with my cum. He licks them clean and watches, predatory, a burning passion in his gaze. Either hatred or lust or a combination of the two.

“Now!” Holden barks. I do as I’m told. I want him inside me more than I want to breathe. I crawl onto my hands and knees on the sofa, still quivering, pussy still clenching. “That’s right,” Holden says, and the sofa depresses behind me. His hot tip presses against my folds. “That’s my girl. And this is my pussy, so sweet and fucking hot. Remember how you squirted for me last night?” “Uh-huh,” I whimper. “Let’s make that happen again.” He presses into me in one long thrust, and I cry out and collapse forward onto my elbows. Holden loops one arm around my waist and lifts me back onto my hands again. “Like that,” he says and presses his palm onto my back, above my ass. “Just like that, Danielle.”

Holden thrusts into me, opens me wide, and fills me with his searing length. This is everything I’ve imagined. Better. It’s more animalistic, and I’m so full of him. Full in every way. Cherished by his dick. I’m sailing toward another orgasm, cresting my peak for— what, how many times has it been? This is my fourth. He’s insatiable. So is Joey. Joey’s eyes are narrowed, his hand is on the front of his chinos, his cock stiff there. He rises, but Holden doesn’t slow his pace. “My girl,” Holden growls, ramming into me again and again. “What do you want?” “I want to come,” I moan again. “I want to scream.” “Good. Come for me, good girl. Come hard.

Come on my cock, and if you do it hard enough, I’ll fill you up. You want my cum, baby?” “I want all your cum, please.” And I do. “Please.” He spanks my ass. “Then come.” I crest my rise and sail over the edge, jamming through my fourth orgasm of the day, my jaw dropped. My moan becomes a wail. White hot ecstasy washes over me, and I blank out. I come back down through feather-light bliss and open my eyes. Joey walks over to me, stripping off his shirt as he goes. He throws it down on the coffee table, over the fruit, almost as if it’s a challenge. He tears down his pants next. Fear tingles in my belly, alongside the pleasure. I glance back. Holden’s focused on me, but he reaches back and rips off his T-shirt, too,

revealing rippling abs, and a v-line that leads to the connection between us. He shifts his gaze from mine to my pussy, and his dick sliding in and out of it. I wish I could see. A hand grips the underside of my chin and shifts my head back to the front. It’s Joey. He stands in front of the sofa and studies me from above, his dick inches from my face. A droplet of pre-cum slides from his opening and down his tip. “Open your mouth,” he growls. “Dani, open it for me.” Two men who want everything from me. Holden, who I’ve dreamed of for a month, now more, and Joey, who makes me come, who makes me scream, who talks to me when I’m crying and makes me forget. I want to give everything to both of them. It’s wrong, but I want to do it.

“Dani, now.” Joey taps my cheek with his dick, a soft thwack of his flesh against mine. I do as I’m told, opening wide and looking up at him. “That’s it,” Joey says, than guides his dripping cock to my lips. “Stick your tongue out and taste it.” Holden increases the pace and demands my attention. I moan at the pressure inside me but stick my tongue out anyway. My eyes roll back in my head. His pre-cum is delicious, salty and clean, a hint of his musk. “Take me in your mouth. Suck hard,” he says. I wrap my lips around his dick and suckle on him, run my tongue along his ridge, then farther back, tasting and feeling. Veins, thickness, and more pre-cum sluice across my tongue. He growls and takes hold of my head, presses his dick farther inside.

I open my mouth wider, my jaw aching and spit dribbling from my lips. I’m drooling for him, and the wet heat in my pussy is perfectly accented by him filling my mouth. “Wider,” Joey commands. “Take it all.” Again, I obey. I’m helpless against these commands because I want it all. I want him to squirt down my throat, even as Holden fills my pussy with his cum. I want to taste him as warmth pulses between my legs. I want to come with his dick in my mouth and Holden’s in my cunt. I want to be full of them both. So full that I’m torn apart. I already can’t choose between them. This will only make it more difficult, but I don’t care. The living room hazes around me. My knees

are planted on the sofa, my ass pressed against Holden, even as Joey pounds into my mouth. I gag and choke, eyes watering, tracing the lines of his abs, the tattoos that encase his arms, the rippling of his biceps as he controls my head and thrusts into me, again and again. “Good,” he growls. “Good girl.” Holden spanks my ass, and my flesh wobbles. “Mine,” he grunts. Joey pounds harder at that. Holden does, too. They’re taking it all for themselves, and I love every second of it. Holden reaches around and plays with my clit, circling it sloppily. He plants his other hand on top of my ass, reaches his thumb down and inserts it in my asshole. There’s a sharp pain and then extreme pleasure.

I’m so fucking full. In every hole. Every part of me penetrated by these two men. One whom I’ve fallen for, the other whom I’m fast falling for as well. I don’t have a second for confusion. “Wider,” Joey growls. “Relax your throat. I’m going deep.” I try for him, and it works. He slides in and out, as far as he can go, burying his entire dick in me. “Fuck, yes, Dani,” he groans. “Fuck, yes.” “Come for me,” Holden commands. “Come.” I’m powerless, and it sends me toward my fifth peak. My fifth climax! I scream around Joey’s dick as I crest, and the vibration sets him off, too. He tugs on my hair and

rams himself into me again and again, my tongue sliding down the underside of his thick shaft. He pulses inside me, squirting down the back of my throat so many times that I can’t swallow it all. Some of it dribbles past my lips and spills to the sofa. “Fuck, yes.” Holden’s breathing quickens behind me. I’m clenching around his cock, my ass tightening around his thumb, too, even as his brother fills my mouth with cum. “Mine,” Holden howls. He pumps into me and comes hard, loading me with his juices as he promised before we started this. He lashes my walls, burns me from the inside out, and once again, I’m gone, drifting on a sea of pleasure. I rock through all of it. Pulse and heave and squeal like a stuck fucking pig because it’s the best I’ve ever felt in my entire life and I don’t want it to end.

But it does. Joey slides from my mouth, and I suck in a breath, lips still dripping his cum. Holden pulls out of me, and fluid splatters to the sofa cushions. I collapse onto the sofa, face down, breathing hard, and shut my eyes. Can’t talk, can’t move, can’t speak. I’m vaguely aware of movement. Rustling of clothes. Footsteps. A zipper. A door slams shut and then silence. Did they leave me here? They fucked me and left me, is that it? Took what they wanted and— A hand brushes my hair back from my cheek and behind my ear. Breath dances across my lobe. “I’m here,” he says.

I open my eyes and look up at him. It’s Joey, with the mole on his cheek and warmth in his gaze. “I’m here,” he says. “Thank you, Dani.” I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. All the confusion that I pushed aside before this started comes screaming back into my mind. What have I done? What have we done? I haven’t lost Joey, apparently. He’s still with me. But Holden? The man I came to find, to love, to fuck? Where is he? I bury my head in the sofa cushions and let hot tears well and escape. “What have I done?” I whisper. “What the

fuck have I done?”

Chapter 16 Joey My dumbfuck brother has already left, and that’s fine by me. I have Dani all to myself. She’s too spent to fuck, and so am I. I’ll probably be chafed fucking raw tomorrow, but I don’t give a shit. Every second of her has been worth it. Even eating her while she clung to my brother. Even fucking her mouth while he did the same to her pussy.

I ignore the tide of jealousy at him touching her and stay crouched beside the sofa. She cries into the cushions and shakes her head. “What have I done?” “Nothing we didn’t want to do,” I say. “You wanted it, too, Dani. It’s okay.” She lifts herself on her elbows and looks up at me, beautiful, watery-eyed. “It’s not okay. I’ve made you fight and I’ve—I don’t know what to do.” “Roll over, baby. Roll over for me,” I say, tenderly as I can. Dani rolls onto her back on the sofa, her full tits jiggling from the motion. Christ, could she be any more beautiful? I’ve just fucked any trace of innocence out of her, but she’s still so pure to me. She cares. No one’s cared before.

Growing up, it was me and my brother. No mommy and daddy around to help us out. No woman to care. And now her. You can’t think about this shit now. Get your girl. I slide my arm under the backs of her knees, the other around her shoulders, then lift her from the sofa, easily. She’s feather-light, and she wraps her arms around my neck and looks up at me. “You should hate me,” she says, sagely. “I’ve pitted you against each other.” “No, you haven’t. I was the one who brought you here. I was the one who tricked you and lied.” I walk her into the bathroom, then open the shower door and take her to the bench on its side. I set her down on it, sit her upright then cup her cheeks in my hands, smooth them over with my thumbs.

“I’m not a victim in this,” she replies, stiffly. “I make my own choices.” “And soon, you will have to make one,” I say, just as sternly. “But not now. Not this second.” After our session, I tugged on my chinos, but I unzip them again and toss them out the open shower door. She closes her eyes and rests her head on the tiles. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how to feel.” “Like I said, not now, Dani. You don’t have to make any decisions now.” She doesn’t reply. I shut the glass shower door then switch on the water. Hot beads run down from above and crash against my skin and hers. She gasps and opens her eyes again.

“Come here.” I lift her from the bench. I stand her up then grab the sponge and soap from the steel rack on the wall. I lather them up. “Spread your legs, baby.” She widens her stance and watches me, her head tilted to one side. I can’t read her thoughts. I’d love to know what’s going on in her head. “Talk to me,” I say. “About anything. About your hopes and dreams. About your family. Anything. Just talk.” “Talk,” she says. “Yeah. About anything but us.” Us. Fuck, if only that “us” meant me and her, rather than the fucked-up threesome we make right now. Bastard. Fucking bastard. But what if pleasing her means having my brother do the same? Will I really turn down the opportunity to spend more time with this woman? Surely, every time wouldn’t be with Holden in the picture.

We’d have moments alone. “My family,” she says, and the words spark something in her expression. We move back in the water as one, and it plasters our hair to our skulls. Water runs down her lips, and she licks it off. “Tell me about them.” I crouch in front of her, running the sponge up the inside of her leg, up her thigh, to that hot triangle of pleasure between her legs. She jerks but doesn’t move away. Gently, I wash her pussy, part her lips and clean her. She shudders with each brush of the sponge, and I move down the inside of her other leg. “I have four sisters,” she says. “All of them are married and settled down, two of them own their own businesses.” “All older?”

“Yeah,” she replies. Her voice eases, and the pain and confusion lifts. “I’m the youngest. I think, and it’s pretty shitty of me to say, but I think I was my mother’s favorite because I was the last. I think I reminded her a lot of herself when she was little.” “She’s gone?” I ask. “She died. Terminal illness.” She swallows. “It was a long time ago, but I still think about her every day.” “I’m sorry, Dani.” And the words mean something. Not in all the years I’ve said them, to women I’ve fucked and dumped, to people I’ve upset during party time, have I meant them. Now, I finally do. “It’s OK. What about you?” “Family?” I laugh, bitterly, then wash her hips, rise and focus on soaping her belly. I pull her from the water again and focus on her breasts. My dick hardens but I ignore it. “My family. I had a

different type of family.” “No mom and dad, I know.” I don’t need to ask how she knows. “No mom and dad,” I agree. “But a different type of family.” I turn her around and wash her back, sweep her hair aside and run the sponge down her spine. Foam creeps between her ass cheeks, and I watch it disappear. “What do you mean?” she asks and looks back over her shoulder at me. Even in profile, she’s fucking perfect. I’m in deep shit here. Deep, deep shit. A fucking T-rex just took a dump on my head. “I was part of a crime family,” I say, easily. She stiffens beneath my hands. “What?” “Yeah, we both were. I was more into it than

Holden, though. I was the bad boy,” I say, with a laugh. Bad boy is a relative term, of course. There’s bad and there’s evil and millions of hues of the same in between. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of now, looking back on it.” “What types of things?” She turns and we walk backward again, into the steaming rush of water from overhead. It patters down between us, reddens the skin of her breasts and flattens the smattering of hair on my chest. “Bad things,” I reply. “I hurt people.” “Did you kill anyone?” The question comes out strong. I can tell this would be a deal breaker for her, but I won’t lie to her regardless. I’m not big on lies. This entire weekend has sat under my skin. Irritated me. “No,” I reply. “Never. And neither has my brother. He pulled me out of it before it was too

late. Holden had friends in places higher than the muck. He was always good at that type of thing. Talking to people, making them see sense. I was the hothead. Always flying off the handle. Not much has changed.” “Hot and cold,” she mutters. I sit on the cusp of asking her which she prefers, but don’t. Not tonight. “So, that’s me. I had my family, and I left them behind.” “And now?” Dani takes the sponge from me. She runs it down my abs and washes carefully but doesn’t look down. Her touch only makes my dick harder, but I ignore that. He might be into it, but my mind is elsewhere. “What about now?” “You still have family.”

“Kind of,” I reply. “But nothing solid. Nothing real. My brother’s family, but—” “No ex-girlfriends? Ex-wives?” she asks. “No,” I snort. “I’m not into that type of thing. I wasn’t.” That correction is necessary, because the more time I spend with Dani, the more I realize that it can change. All the partying, the fucking random chicks for the hell of it, can change. It has changed. We finish up in the shower in silence, and Dani seems happier now. She gets out by herself, but I wrap the towel around her then one around myself. I walk her through to the bedroom, and she sits down on the end of the bed, yawning. “You should get some rest,” I say. “You’re not going to stay with me?” she asks. Fuck, isn’t that a killer? “No, I can’t. I have to

go look for him. I can’t leave it like this.” “Family,” she says and nods, with another yawn. “Family.” I kiss her on the forehead, just a quick brush, because anything more and I’ll stay instead of leaving, and that won’t help lift the metric ton of shit wedged into place on top of me. “None of this is your fault. Don’t forget that. It’s mine.” Dani doesn’t reply, but she probably doesn’t believe me either. “Later,” I say, and that’s a god damn problem. She nods and settles back against the cushions, still moist form her shower. I leave before the sight of her like that glues me to the floor.

Chapter 17 Danielle Tik-tik-kkkrrttzzz. The noise breaks through my dreams, through the soft warmth that envelops me. I open my eyes in the dark and frown. The sun set a long time ago, but my bedroom windows are thrown wide, the pale curtains billowing in the Caribbean breeze. Tik-tik-kkkrrttzzz. What the hell? What is that? I force myself upright and look around in the

dark, eyes wide as they can go. I absorb dull shapes. The outline of the armoire, the dresser, the mirror, and the closed bedroom door. There’s not much light from outside. Clouds scud across the inky black sky and block the moon from my view. “Hello?” I whisper, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Fuck, why did Joey have to leave? Gosh, well, obviously, I know why he had to leave, but this is… Tik-tik-kkkrrttzzz. “Who’s there!?” I yell, throwing back my covers. I’m naked underneath. I swing my legs out and place my feet on a towel—the one I threw off after my shower with Joey. My bedroom door’s knob turns, and the door swings inward. A tall figure moves into view, and I hold my breath, fear thrilling through me. I grab for the blanket and pull it toward my

chest, then reach for the light switch. A click and the room floods with buttery yellow light. And there he is. It’s Holden, wearing a pair of PJ pants and nothing else. His arms are covered by tattoo sleeves, and his chest matches it. He’s got way more tattoos than Joey, but on his chest are the twins, back to back. Warriors. They have matching tattoos. My gaze skates from his naked, chiseled torso to his face, and I absorb the sight of this man whom I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about, wanted for what feels like ages. “Hi,” I say, and it comes out choked. “I didn’t think you’d come back.” “Why?” Holden asks, standing dead still. He

could be a statue but for the rise and fall of his chest and the movement of his lips, the occasional blink. He’d make a perfect sculpture. He’d definitely put that small-dicked David to shame. “I—after this afternoon.” Do I really need to explain this? I fucked him. I fucked his brother, and then they fucked me. It’s not exactly a complicated equation. Kinda. Well, it is, but understanding there’s a problem isn’t exactly a stretch. “We need to talk,” he everything. Not only the sex.”

says.

“About

“All right,” I reply and scooch back on the bed. I hold the sheet up against my naked breasts, only because I don’t want him to think that the sex is all I’m into with him. Holden stands still a moment longer, then sets

off from his spot and walks to the bed. He sits down close to me, holds out his hand. I take it. This is not what I expected. He wants to touch me rather than shun me. “So, let’s talk,” I say. “I’ve been waiting for this for a month, more than that, now.” “You have?” “Yes,” I say, and I can’t help the blush that creeps up my cheeks. “You didn’t know? I’ve been crushing on you since the day you hired me. When I got the invite, Holden, I hoped that you’d sent it. I saw you had one, too, or I’d never have come.” “You don’t need to explain that part to me,” he says, and he clenches his teeth together. “I understand why you’re here and how.”

“I shouldn’t have come,” I say. But I can’t look back on being with him with unhappiness. “I know this will complicate things.” “Yes, it will,” he says and sighs. “I don’t want you to leave the house, Danielle. I think you’re a fantastic nanny. Jessie’s gotten used to having you around, but I don’t see how we can continue what we’ve done here back in New York. It just wouldn’t work. It would upset my daughter.” I have to agree with him there. Jessie’s only just gotten used to going to see her mother on weekends. She’s easing into the life of having two parental groups instead of one. This would throw her off for sure. “I’m not selfish. I totally understand that,” I say. I’m not selfish? Ha, I’m the one who took the risk to come here. But I’ve been driven wild by desire for way too long. It built up, and I acted

crazy. “But that might not always be the case.” He strokes my knuckles with his thumb. “One day, Jessie might be ready to have another family member to be introduced to our unit. I can’t, however, expect you to wait that long for me to be ready.” I gulp. “So, what are you saying?” “That’s just the thing, I don’t know what I’m saying.” He kisses my knuckles, then turns my hand over and does the same with the palm. “I don’t know about any of this, and that’s what fucking gets me. You know how I am.” He always knows everything. He’s a billionaire. He makes quick decisions and business deals under huge pressure. “I only know one thing,” he says. “And what’s that?” My breath catches. Tell

me you love me. Say you want me to yourself. Say you’ll be mine. “That while I can’t expect you to wait, I won’t be comfortable with you fucking my brother. Ever.” Oh, god. My stomach sinks because of that. It actually sinks. Joey is… complicated. “What does it matter what I do with him?” It’s a dumbass question, but I don’t stop it from slipping free of my lips. “It matters to me,” he says, and his upper lip twitches, then curls back. “My brother should’ve been off-limits from the start.” “I didn’t—” “I know you didn’t know.” There were no pictures of them together in the house. In the month I’d been there, Joey had never visited, and the brief conversations we’d had had

revolved around Jessie and making sure that she had what Holden had never been privy to—a mother and a father, a real happy family, even if it was split in two. “But you do know now,” he says. “Let me explain something about him to you, Danielle. He’s not the same type of man I am. He’s—not into women the way you think.” “He’s gay?” “No,” Holden replies, with a shake of his head and a tight smile. “I fucking wish he was because then he’d never gone anywhere near you. Then again, he might’ve anyway just to spite me. We’ve always had a… healthy sense of competition.” I understand that. I have five sisters, after all, but I’ve never fucked one of their exes or potential boyfriends. “We’re fighters, and sometimes we fight each other,” Holden continues. “We’re opposites. I’m

the family man. He’s the free spirit. If fucking a different woman each night means free.” My stomach twists around an invisible blade. “OK,” I say, because how the fuck else should I respond to that? I can’t judge him for it. I’m a firm believer in respecting others’ choices, but it still eats at me. He was so genuine in the shower with me. Would he turn around and fuck someone else? Oh, my god, who the hell am I to talk? I fucked both of them this afternoon. “He’s only into sex and nothing else,” Holden says. “He’ll never give you what you want, emotionally. I can give you what you want. I can fight for you. I can fuck you. I can be your man. Just not now.” Not now. Ugh, that blade twists again, equally as deep

and as hard. “Not now,” I say. “But someday.” Holden’s gaze holds too much hope. He wants me to tell him that I’ll wait as long as it takes for him to be ready. And a part of me wants to. He’s so perfect. Joey’s face, his sincerity, our conversation today and the one on the beach after he gave me the shirt off his back, it all floats to the surface in my mind. I can’t make any promises I won’t keep. Telling Holden how I feel about him won’t make a difference either. He has to put his daughter and his family first, and I will always respect that about him. I don’t want Jessie hurt either. Holden drags me closer and presses his lips to mine.

The kiss is sweet, soft, and it melts me through and through, brushes doubts across the surface of whatever meager certainty I’d gathered during our conversation. We part, and Holden brushes his nose against mine. “I admire everything about you. Especially the way you are with my daughter.” The words are there, afternoon was a mistake.

unspoken.

This

I release the question I’ve been holding back since he entered my bedroom. “So, what happens now?”

Chapter 18 Holden “What happens?” I release her hand at last. It takes actual effort to do it. “I never have and I never will be a second option, particularly not when my brother is the first. You’ll have to choose between us.” “I—You just said I shouldn’t wait for you,” she replies, still holding the sheet to her chest though I’ve already seen what’s underneath. The outlines of her nipples poke at the cotton. “And you said I can’t be with your brother. So, that’s not much of a choice, is it?”

“Exactly,” I say, and my tone is gruff again. “Then the choice will be you or just… leaving?” That’s exactly the opposite of what I want. It makes me heavy inside, drags my arms and legs down. Losing her will eat at me, but we can’t go on this way. “Take your time making the decision, Danielle,” I say. “I don’t want you to regret it.” “This isn’t fair.” Her eyes flame, and she folds her arms across her chest. The sheet slips a little, revealing more of that tan cleavage. I look away. “I’m the one who has to make the decision for all three of us?” “Well, I think you’ll find Joey and I are both biased toward one particular decision.” I slip off the edge of the bed and brush off my shirt. “Think about it.” I lean over and kiss her on the forehead, inhale her scent. Today it’s patchouli and something

fruity. I walk for the door and head out across the living room, past the fucking sofa. The sofa where I finally filled Danielle, and the one where my brother did, too. This is a nightmare. It’s my worst nightmare for many reasons. For as long as I can remember, my brother and I have been in competition. Equally. We’ve been the only two there for each other. Inseparable. We fought against and with each other. It’s the reason we started the business together. It’s the reason he’s our “enforcer” and I’m the one with the home base in New York. The more we see of each other, the more we clash. There’s a fine line to walk here, and Danielle has totally corroded it. Not that it’s her fault.

No, this is Joey’s dumbass fault. Trust him to try take my life into his hands. He’s always had the bullshit opinion that his carefree lifestyle, fucking chicks, partying, waking up with a hangover six days out of seven, is better than mine. In a way, this is sabotage. I open the front door and trudge out across the sand. There’s hardly any light tonight except for the lamps along the boardwalk that leads up to the main buildings, and a few solitary torches out on the sand, their flames guttering in the wind. This is not the usual atmosphere. It’s not mellow or sexual. It’s tense. The world holds its breath. I shake my head at the stupidity—the world doesn’t give a fuck about our problems—and move down Danielle’s short path and out onto the beach.

My villa isn’t far, but I need time alone tonight. The sun will likely rise soon. Already the sky’s color lightens in increments. My skin prickles, and I stop walking, frown, look around. A figure leans against a palm tree nearby, shrouded in darkness. “What?” I shrug at him. It’s obviously Joey. Who else would lurk under a tree outside Danielle’s place? “You got something to say to me?” “I heard what you said about me,” Joey replies, a little too loudly. His voice carries across the sand, and a gust of wind whips some of the fine powder across the beach. It stings the backs of my ankles. “From there?” I ask. “What do you think you heard?” “Not from here, cunt.” Joey pushes off from the tree and strides over.

I draw myself up and glare at him. The closer he gets, the clearer the anger on his face becomes. His lips curl back in a rictus, every line is pronounced, contorted. “Oh, yeah? Then from where? You lurking outside Danielle’s window, waiting for scraps?” He growls low. “Doesn’t matter where I was standing. I heard what you said to Dani.” I hate it that he calls her that. It’s like he’s trivializing who she is. It’s a reminder that he doesn’t know her as well as I do, and that he shouldn’t. That he never will. “And what was that?” “That I’m only in it for the sex.” I snort. “So? That’s exactly true.” “No, it’s not. It’s different with her,” Joey says. “It’s more than sex. And I don’t appreciate you implying otherwise.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you don’t appreciate, Joseph,” I reply. “Now, get the fuck out of my way.” “Or what?” He cocks his head to one side. He’s a mirror image of me in some ways, in others, completely different. “You know I’m the fighter between the two of us. I’ll fucking kill you, Holden. I’ll destroy you. You stay away from her.” I laugh in his face. “That’s funny to you?” he asks. “It’s fucking hilarious.” Gray light spreads among the trees. Joey’s muscles are taut. He flexes them then slaps one of his cheeks. “Let’s see how funny you find this.” He swings up his other fist and pounds me in the stomach. I grunt a breath but don’t back down. Never back down.

Adrenaline streaks through me. My muscles are steel, corded, pumped up. I charge at him, a wordless roar tearing from my throat, collide with him and tackle him onto the sand. “Motherfucker,” I growl. I’m on top of him, but we’re equally matched. Same height, same strength, same size knuckles. I punch down at his face, and he punches up at mine. We crack each other, and my head snaps back. Stars sparkle in front of my eyes, but I blink them away, sway, regain my hold on the slippery fuck. “Gerrof,” Joey roars and aims punches at my abdomen. I grab him by the throat, pin him in the sand, the veins on the back of my hand protruding. I’m zoomed in on him. Totally focused.

“Stop it! Stop!” Danielle’s voice splits the fight in two. Her arms latch onto my neck, and she tugs. “Get off him. You’re hurting him.” “He deserves it.” “Fuck you,” Joey snaps, spit frothing from him lips. “You’d better fucking kill me, because if you don’t—” He thuds another punch into my stomach, and I wheeze. A trail of blood trickles from his nose. Hopefully I fucking broke it for him. “Holden, get off.” I shrug off Danielle’s arms and raise another fist. “Hey!” A male’s voice snaps through the sand, but I don’t stop. I aim a punch at Joey’s jaw. He tugs away, and it impacts the sand instead.

Joey wraps his legs around my waist and flips us over. My back hits the sand, and the wind rushes from my lungs. I tighten my grip on his throat and he chokes, reddens. “Fuck-in—” He can’t get the words out properly. “Stop!” Another scream from Danielle. Thick arms wrap around Joey’s waist and his pressure is lifted, my hand is ripped free of his throat. A strong-armed motherfucker in a black Tshirt appears over me and yanks me to my feet. He twists my arm behind my back, and I cast a glance in his direction. “You’d better let me go,” I say, calmly. “Strict orders from the top, sir,” the guy says, just as serenely. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of tinted sunglasses. “You’re disturbing the peace. You signed a disclaimer at the beginning of your time with Mystique Island. You have one warning

only before you’re asked to leave forever. Consider this your warning. The same goes for your brother over there.” Joey isn’t struggling. He stands beside his bouncer, dabbing at the blood beneath his nose, a shit-eating grin distorting his lips. He doesn’t look at me, just stares with a look of mania into the sky. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the one that’s almost seen him dead. It’s the one that scared me enough to pull us both out of the “family” before it was too late. Danielle hovers in the space between us, looking first at me, then at him and back again. She’s clothed in her robe again, and her cheeks are pale. We’ve upset her. This whole weekend has fucked with her head, and it’s all Joey’s fault. “It’s time for you to return to your villa, sir,” the bouncer says and clamps a hand down on my forearm.

I shake him off. “I can walk on my own.” “As you wish.” I walk off across the sand but pause a few feet from Danielle. Joey stiffens, switching his maniacal gaze from the clouds to us. “All of this,” I say, watching her closely, taking in the line of her nose, the smooth slopes of her cheekbones. “All of this is because of you, Danielle. Because I love you.” She gasps but doesn’t reply. It’s the first time I’ve told her the truth. It’s been hiding out of sight for the past three weeks. I love her. I love everything about her. It’s too late to turn back now.

Chapter 19 Danielle He loves me. Holden loves me. What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I pace back and forth in the kitchen—being in the living room brings back way too many memories—the gentle hum of the chromed-out refrigerator providing a backdrop to the mental noise pollution.

There’s so much going on in my head I can’t latch on to a solid thought and run with it. Joey’s genuine intrigue. His hot desire for me. Claiming me. Holden cold but in love. Commanding me. Making me choose. I don’t want to have to make this decision, and it’s hardly a conventional one. It’s not like I can call up Dr. Phil and ask him how to choose between twin brothers. He’s probably heard worse, to be honest. Or maybe exactly the same, and that’s what’s truly disconcerting. Regardless, I need someone to talk to. “What would you do, Momma?” I lean against the granite countertops in the kitchen. I look up at the ceiling and count the downlights spotted within it. “What would you do if you were in this messedup situation?”

Of all the people I’d love to talk to about this, she’s the first. My mother wouldn’t judge me. I pick through my sisters, the ones who’ll be in awe, the ones who’ll gasp in shock and likely gossip about it, and land on the one sister, the only one, who’s likely not to judge because she was a wild child in her youth. Evaline. We don’t speak much. After Momma’s passing, we lost touch. She’s the oldest, there’s the distance between New York and Ontario, and… well, those are excuses. Evaline was always a loner and a bit of a bitch. But she’s my bitch. She’s the sister who helped me sneak in drunk, where the others would’ve promptly outed me to Dad. In fact, Evaline is the one who took me to my first club at twenty-one. She gave me advice on

when to dump my ex-boyfriend and encouraged me to leave my hometown years ago. Can I really speak to her about this? She’s probably asleep right now, but I can’t wait. It’s talk to her or chase my own tail for the next however many hours until Joey and Holden come back and demand an answer once and for all. I won’t work this through on my own. It’s too complicated. “Just do it.” I fetch my cell from the bedroom, then bring it back to the kitchen where a phone is attached to the wall. There’s a list of emergency numbers beside it and a little booklet of information provided by Mystique. I rifle through it and nod—calls to cellphones

are permitted—then unlock the screen of my cell and swipe through to my contacts and find Eva’s number. I lift the receiver off the wall and dial the number. The phone’s wireless, thank god. I’ll have the opportunity to stride around the inside of this villa while we talk this through. I press the phone to my ear and listen to the ringing. One, two, three rings. “Come on, pick up. Please, Eva.” Finally, a click. “Hello?” my sister croaks. “Who the fuck are you, and do you want to die tonight?” “Eva, it’s me,” I say, butterflies thwacking into the sides of my belly. “Wait, what?” She draws the last one out.

Shuffling ensues on the other end of the line, followed by the click of a lamp. “Is that you, Dani?” “Yeah,” I say. “Sorry for calling you so late. And, uh, for not calling you for months.” “OK.” She yawns. “What’s eating your ass?” “Huh?” “Well, you haven’t called me in months and now, you’re calling me in the middle of the night to apologize for it? I don’t buy it. What do you need? I’m not smuggling another felon out of the country. Canada deserves better.” I blink and process that. “A felon? What?” “Not important,” Eva says, with another earsplitting yawn. It sets me off into one of my own. I swallow after and blink tears. “I’m calling because I have a

problem.” “As I thought. Now, what’s the problem? Have you been caught smuggling illegal goods across the border?” “No, and I’m kinda alarmed that you’re leading with these questions,” I reply. She snorts a laugh over the phone, and more shuffling ensues, followed by the snap-hiss of a match as she lights a cigarette. She inhales deeply. “Better. I’m sort of awake, now. Sort of. What’s the problem?” “Man trouble,” I say. Which is the lightest possible way of phrasing this. “Double man trouble.” “Oh, boy, it’s a doozey. This should be good.” Eva sucks on her cigarette and exhales. “Maybe this is worth being woken up for after all.” “I—well, it’s complicated. I’m in love with my

boss, Holden, and I—oh, god, OK. This is going to be pretty damn difficult to explain.” “Just start at the beginning,” Eva says. It bodes well that she’s not shocked about me being in love with my boss. So, I tell her everything. Except for the pornographic bits, since that’d be pushing it. I tell her about Holden and how I followed him here, about Joey and how he tricked me but then showed me his softer genuine side, and about how that subterfuge didn’t even bother me and how weird it is. “They’ve given me a choice,” I say. “Well, technically, Holden’s given me the choice. It’s either him or nothing, which I’m pretty sure Joey wouldn’t agree with. They had a fight outside my villa. I—just don’t know what the hell to do, Eva. This is too much for me to handle.” Eva exhales. “Well, shit.” It’s the first thing

she’s said since I started talking. “Well, I’ll be damned.” “Any other wells you’d like to mention?” “A well of emotion?” Eva suggests. “Or how about a well of scandal.” “Help me, please,” I say, a hint of plea in my tone. I tread across the tiles in the kitchen and fiddle with the fridge’s chrome door bar. “I can’t really help you, girl. This is a decision you need to make for yourself. But it looks to me like you’ve got a lot of options. What I’d like to know is how you feel about them. How do you feel about Holden?” “He’s… special. He’s a good man. He looks after his daughter and puts her first. He cares about people, even if he tries to hide it, and he’s protective. He says he loves me.” I bite my lip. And I love him, too. I’ve been infatuated with him for weeks, living in close quarters.

Once, we even ran into each other in the middle of the night, passing in the hall that leads to the bathroom. “And Joey? He sounds like the weak link.” “I don’t know about that,” I reply and open the fridge, peering inside at the newly replaced fruits and vegetables. “He’s so warm. He’s the opposite of Holden. He seems to really care, and he shows it. He’s so commanding and overwhelming. He talks to me about stuff whenever he can. I care about him, too.” “So, they’re opposites, and you dig them both. Great, that makes this easier.” Eva sniffs. “So, the way I say it is it’s either Holden or Joey, or you leave.” “Leaving is probably for the best,” I reply, firmly. It makes sense, now. Eva’s brisk tone has shaken the emotion out of me. “I don’t want to come between them.”

“Or the secret, bonus fourth option,” Eva says. “And what’s that?” I ask. “You take them both.” “What? I don’t think that’s even an option. I mean, how would that work?” I shake my head. “Look, it’s not like you’ll end up marrying either of these guys. Joey’s the fun, free dude and Holden’s got his own issues. He said he won’t be ready for a long time. So, have them both, and live a free happy life. Maybe, one day, you’ll be better equipped to make the decision between the two of them. Maybe the feelings for one will drop off and the other will grow stronger. Why not have some fun with it first?” “Holden said—” “I know, girl, but what a man says and what he does are often two entirely different things. If

you’re at all interested in that fourth option, you should at least tell them how you feel,” Eva says. “Trust me on this one.” I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. “Thanks, Eva. I think I know what I have to do.” “All right, sis. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she replies. “You mean like hiding fugitives or stripping?” “Hey! That was one time!” Eva’s laughter rings down the line. “Now, can I go back to sleep?” “Yes.” “All right, honey boo, let me know what you decide.” “I will if you never call me that again,” I reply, then kiss-kiss into the phone’s receiver and hang up.

She’s cleared a lot up for me. I do know what I have to do. No matter what I feel for Holden or for Joey, the truth is clear. I have to leave. For good.

Chapter 20 Joey I knock on Dani’s front door and wait, my hands tucked behind my back, the pressure building in my chest. The sun has risen, I haven’t seen Holden since he cracked me on the nose this morning, and the crazy-anger that pulsed through me this morning has finally dissipated. I’m OK. I’m not going to break my brother’s back for what he did. I’m not going to overreact.

But I will find Dani and make her mine and mine alone. If she’s got a choice, she’ll choose me. Simple as hell. The clouds from last night have already lifted, and another beautiful blue day has dawned in the Caribbean. Mystique Island is alive with events. Beautiful masked women hop around naked in the sand nearby, playing volleyball, their tits bouncing —all different shapes and sizes. A couple days ago, I would’ve been in their midst, sucking breasts and getting sucked off by more than one woman at a time. Now, nothing appeals to me less. I knock again. “Dani,” I call out. “It’s Joey. Open up.” No answer. She’s not home, or she’s ignoring me.

Footsteps thump up the path behind me, and I turn, finding a dude without his mask. He’s one of the cleaners here, judging by the keys attached to his belt and the supplies he carts in a basket in one hand. He stops and frowns at me. “Sir?” I adjust my mask—I can’t afford to break any more rules or I won’t see Dani again—and nod to him. “You guys only come to the villa when the resident has left, right?” “That’s correct, sir.” “Which means Dani isn’t here,” I mutter, more to myself than to him. “Yes, sir. She left not ten minutes ago. I believe she’s in the main reception area, talking with Mistress Prunella about leaving the island.” “Mistress Prunella?” I blink. What the fuck kind of name is that?

“Yes, sir. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to clean her villa before she returns.” I nod and step out of her path. Obviously, the cleaner dude has no reason to hide her whereabouts from me. I’m a guest of the island. A billionaire guest, and this is a safe place. If Dani didn’t want to be found, she would have told them as much. I take two steps down the path, then halt and turn back. “Yo, dude.” The cleaner guy stops, his brown doe eyes wide. He’s pale, with freckles, probably in his twenties. This has to be a dream job for him. Good pay and an eyeful of pussy wherever he goes. “Yes, sir?” “Pay extra attention to the sofa cushions.” I walk off down the path and make my way toward the boardwalk that trails between the island-style buildings. There are thatched roofs and tiled ones, pale white walls, a central garden that features

native flowers and trees. Birds flit between branches and people sit on benches there, some of them with their dicks wet, others with their faces dripping cum. Island paradise. That’s what this is for most people. Not for me, at the moment. You started this. You should’ve left her alone on the beach. Nah, I shouldn’t have. She was mine from the start. I just didn’t know it until I laid eyes on her. I walk past the main banquet hall, empty now, and head down the walkway that leads to the reception area. It’s a building removed from the rest of the resort, near a grouping of palm trees that lead back into a thicker forest.

There’s a long span of boardwalk between here and there, bordered by white sand, pebbles, emptiness on my right, and water on my left. My bare feet thunk on the boards, and I quicken my pace. Why is she at reception talking to Miss Prune or whatever the fuck her name is? No one on this island bothers with reception. I reach the small building and open the glass front door, stepping inside. “You’ll have to sign a disclaimer that states you’re leaving early, dear,” the bespectacled woman behind the desk says. “It’s general policy that early-leavers don’t get a second invite to the island.” Dani’s back is to me. She’s dressed in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a fitted camisole, her long dark hair tossed over one shoulder.

Christ, she’s perfect from behind. “That’s fine,” she says. “I won’t be coming back.” “I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” the woman says. She’s totally unsuited to the island—older, probably a prude. Maybe that’s why they’ve got her hidden in reception on this side of Mystique. “Usually, the women who attend Mystique’s events have a fabulous time.” “It’s not the island,” Dani breathes. “It’s lovely here. It’s just that some personal complications have arisen—” The receptionist nods, her eyes made small by the lenses of her glasses. She looks past Dani and spots me, then arches an eyebrow. “May I help you, sir? Goodness, it’s never this busy in reception. Would you like some coffee while you wait until I’m finished with this lady’s query?” This is surreal. It’s as if I’ve stepped off

Mystique and into a dentist’s office. “Dani, what are you doing?” I ask. She spins around and that cursed fucking mask hides her features from me. Her perfection. “Joey?” She swallows. “Hi.” “What are you doing?” “The only thing I can do,” she replies. “I’m leaving.” I cross the sparkling tiles in two long strides then sweep her into my arms, holding her close. She lets her arms hang limp, but she reacts to me regardless. Her lips part, and a tiny sigh escapes. This woman needs me. She craves me as much as I crave her. “You can’t leave.”

“I have to,” she says and shakes her head, placing a palm to my chest. She pushes away from me, and I let her go, though I fucking hate it. “It’s not right. None of what’s happened is right. Last night, Holden—” “Is this about the fight?” I can’t promise I’d take it back, given the chance. No, I’d probably break my brother’s nose. “It’s about everything. This can’t happen. It’s not healthy for any of us. Your relationship with your brother is more important than—” Dani stiffens and looks over her shoulder at the receptionist, who’s clearly way too curious about this conversation. Miss Pruney jumps and busies herself with papers on her desk. “Let’s talk outside.” I take her hand. “I’ll be back shortly, Mistress Prunella.” Dani squares her shoulders—one of the straps of her

camisole slips down her arm, and she fixes it, absently. “Please prepare those documents for me.” “Of course, dear,” the woman says and looks up as if she hasn’t heard a word of our talk. I lead Dani out onto the boardwalk, and we stand under the sun, looking out on the turquoise ocean. Someone’s got a boat out there, and they’re tearing it up. People shriek and laugh, others glide by on water skis. The sun bakes my forehead and sweat trickles down my temples. I squeeze Dani’s fingers. “You’re not leaving.” “Don’t you understand, Joey? Holden gave me a choice. It’s him or nothing. And I bet you’ll tell me it’s you or nothing.” “That’s right,” I reply. That’s what I want. Just me and her, somewhere special together. We can travel the world. She wants that. She wants the freedom, right? So, she can have it with me. We’ll

take first-class flights and stay up late talking, feeding each other, fucking. “But that’s wrong,” Dani says. “I can’t—I care about both of you.” “Just because you’ve known him longer doesn’t mean he’s the one for you.” It’s petty to talk like this behind Holden’s back, but I’d say the same to his face, and he’d do it, too. He did last night when he told her I want nothing but sex. “It doesn’t matter who’s the one for me. It matters that I don’t ruin your relationship. You’re family. That’s important.” Dani slips her hand from my grasp and sets off down the boardwalk at a blistering pace. I follow her. “Dani, you can’t walk away from me that easily.” She doesn’t reply.

Fuck, I hate being the follower in this scenario. I’ve never chased pussy in my life. It’s always fallen onto my dick. But Dani isn’t “pussy.” She’s my woman. She’s redefined how I think about life over the course of a couple days. It’s crazy, and that’s fine. I’m fucking crazy. We zip down the boardwalk, past the garden and its couples and threesomes, down onto the beach and past an orgy of men and women, then up to her villa’s front door. She spins on the threshold and presses out a palm. “I’m not leaving before we talk this through,” I say. “I’ll stay out here all day if I have to. This is more than just a weekend for me, Dani.” And that takes a lot to say. Dani hesitates, licks her lips. “Fine. Come in. You can help me pack my bags.”

Chapter 21 Danielle I let us into the villa and walk past the sofa and— wait, what? I stop dead in my tracks. “That’s—what?” The sofa has been exchanged with another one. This one is forest green and leather. “What happened?” “They obviously realized they needed to clean up in here,” Joey says. “Wow.” But sofa exchanges are the least of my worries. I march across the boards and into my

bedroom. The bed is already made, though I left it a mess this morning, and the windows are open, the curtains hanging either side, touched every now and again by the breeze. I drag open the top drawer of my dresser, ignoring my reflection in the mirror above it, and bring out the small pieces that I packed for this trip. Personal things, like underwear and bras, though I haven’t used them since I’ve been here, and my journal. In its pages are countless fantasies about loving Holden, living with him, being with him. Being a second mother to his daughter. I’ll miss Jessie. Obviously, I can’t go back to the house and see her again. That’s going to break me up inside, but it’s what’s best for her. I bend and grab my little carry-on bag from under the dresser, then dump it on the bed. I follow

that up by tossing the other stuff down next to it. I’m not angry at anyone but myself. I’ve ruined everything. I should never have come to Mystique. I’ve tossed so much out of the window just because I had a proverbial itch to scratch. Idiot, idiot, idiot. “Dani, stop.” Joey grabs my wrists and drags me around the side of the bed, toward him. I’ve done my best to ignore his presence. To pretend he doesn’t exist so I can keep a clear head while I pack. It’s not working. “I have to go. It’s the right thing to do,” I say. “No, it’s not.” His grip bites into my wrists. It hurts a little, but I don’t care. He’s touching me, and I love that. I love that even though I shouldn’t.

God, I’m such a fucking mess. “I’m falling for you,” he says. “What? How? We don’t know each other. It’s been a few days.” “You can’t tell me you don’t feel the connection between us,” he replies, probing me with that ocean gaze. He’s so clear about what he wants, and I envy that. “I don’t care if it’s crazy. I’m fucking crazy. I always have been. I’ve been living an empty life without you in it. I thought I had it all, Dani. I thought my life was the best life. Fucking whenever I want, drinking, eating out. But I have no home. I have no soul. Not without you in my life.” “I can’t be your soul,” I say. “I can’t be your soul because I still love Holden, too.” “I don’t fucking care.” He shakes as he says it. Shakes so hard that I tremble along with him. “I don’t fucking care if you love him, too. All I want

is you. If I lose you because I’m too stubborn to admit that you love him and he loves you, I’ll never forgive myself.” His eyes water. It can’t be tears. He’s too strong for that. So much stronger than me. “Joey—” He interrupts me with a kiss, so hot and sweet I can’t muster up any thought. I run my fingers up his chest and cup his cheeks, relish the scrape of his stubble against my skin. God, I’m falling for him, too. I barely know him, but the connection between us is intense. Every time he touches me, he unlocks something different. Heat, passion, submission. Joey’s kiss is frantic. He tastes my tongue, then sucks my bottom lip, nibbles it, then moves to my chin, my left eye, the tip of my nose, my right eye. “I won’t let you go,” he says, punctuating each word with a kiss somewhere else. “I don’t fucking

care. You’re my drug, Dani. I won’t let you go.” I moan and dissolve into him, taking all the kisses he gives me. “I told you at the start of this weekend that you’re mine,” he whispers. “And if you have to be his, too, to be mine, then fine.” “What are you saying?” I ask, gasping for breath as if I’m drowning. Maybe I am. Drowning in him and us, and his lust. Joey lifts my legs and wraps them around his body. He grabs my ass cheeks and walks me backward until I hit the wall. He grinds his dick against my pussy. We’re separated by two layers of clothing, my shorts and his chinos, but he’s so hard. So very fucking hard. He grinds into me and I cry out. “Joey.” “You want me,” he says. “You want me inside you. I’ll make you come again, Dani. I’ll make you

mine.” Oh, god, I need that from him. Joey sucks on my neck, holds me up with one arm, while the other hand reaches for my breast. He pinches my nipple through my camisole, then rips the cotton down and bends his head. He suckles on my pink nub, rolls it between his teeth, bites. “Oh, fuck,” I moan. I’m lost. He’s got me good. He sucks, then circles my areola with his tongue, licks a long line up the slope of my breast to the base of my neck. “Fuck, I need you. I need you here, and I need you in my life. Don’t you fucking dare leave.” It’s the closest to a plea he’s probably ever come. I kiss the top of his head, and he lifts it, stares into my eyes as he grinds against me, placing more and more pressure on my clit. I’m pulsing for him

already, aching, needing. Captured again by this man whom I’ve simultaneously never known but known for an eternity. That’s what it feels like, at least. “That’s it,” he says, and rubs up against me, kisses me again. His tongue massages mine in a slow dance. I’m drunk on him, dizzy. “I’ll love you until you can’t anymore, baby, and then I’ll still love you.” I whimper and catch his bottom lip between my teeth. I scrape along it. “I need you out of these shorts,” he says. “I’ve got to come in your pussy.” He backs us off the wall, then carries me over to the bed. He tosses me onto it, and I land right beside the journal. It flops open. Holden’s looking gorgeous today. He was so sweet. He opened the car door for me this afternoon before we went to fetch Jessie.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but I can’t block out the words. Joey lowers himself on top of me, unaware. He kisses my neck, growling low in his throat. “Stop,” I say. “Joey, stop.” He does, immediately. He pushes himself off the bed and stands in front of me, watching, still hard. He waits, his arms at his sides—at least, they’re not folded. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t do this with you until everything’s figured out with your brother. It feels wrong. He made it clear what he wants, and this isn’t it.” “Fuck,” Joey says. “I’d do the same if it was Holden here instead of you.” I nod. “I have to be fair. “And fair means what? Leaving the island?”

Maybe not. Joey said earlier that if I want Holden, too, he’ll deal with it. The fact is, choosing between them is tearing me apart. Leaving will destroy me in so many ways. What if I can take the fourth option Eva mentioned? Is that so crazy? Obviously, I won’t be able to work for Holden anymore, but… “Dani,” Joey says. “You need to give me your final answer.” “I will,” I say. “I’ll give it to you, to both of you, tonight.” “Tonight?” “On the beach,” I say, thinking fast. “Meet me on the beach at ten, near the cabana, okay? Be there, please.” Joey grinds his teeth but nods. “All right, I’ll

be there, Dani.” It’s so final, and I ache for him all over again. He bends over me and kisses the tip of my nose, then straightens and walks out. I lie there and listen to him—the bare feet across the boards, the click as the front door shuts behind him. I’m alone with my thoughts again, not that I want to be, but at least this time I have a plan. One I’ll need help to put into action. I dart upright, filled with hope and energy for the first time all day. This might work, and if it doesn’t, at least I’ll have tried.

Chapter 22 Holden This can’t end well. I walk across the sand, down the short path that leads from my villa toward the meeting place Danielle organized. She called me this afternoon, sounding serious, and asked that I meet her out here. I check my watch—ten, right on time—and steel myself for what’s about to come. The moon’s out tonight, but clouds scud across the sky, marring it now and again. Stars dot the inky blue-black

above, and there’s not much wind. I pass palm trees and another villa on my path down to the shore. Moans emanate from the open windows, and there’s movement inside. I don’t bother looking. Nothing can distract me from this evening. From whatever Danielle has laid out for me. I trudge onward and torchlight draws my gaze. There’s a blanket laid out on the beach, and two figures sit on it. One of them is Danielle. The other is my brother. Neither of them wear masks, and I rip mine off and drop it. Heat flushes through me—I haven’t seen him since we were pulled apart this morning—and it takes everything inside me not to lash out. Not to tackle him again. He’s sitting so close to her. Too close. Fuck it. Rein it in. Be a fucking man and find

out what she wants. Did they plan this together? Is this their plan? They’re going to sit me down and tell me that they’ve chosen to be together. I picture myself returning to New York, to my empty home, and waiting for Jessie’s return. Alone. She’ll have questions for me, she’ll ask about her nansy, and I’ll explain it away, but it will fucking claw at my insides. Fuck, I should never have come here. I haven’t moved since I spotted them a few feet away. Danielle stands, holding a glass of wine. “Please. Holden, please. Please come over here. Let’s talk about this.” Her voice draws me closer. I push off and force myself to meet her.

She hugs me, pulls her body to mine, and I respond immediately, inhale the scent of her hair, rest my palm on the small of her back. Danielle wears a gorgeous, glitzy silver dress that clings to her body. The material looks wet, and it’s cool to the touch. Two cups accentuate and elevate her breasts. She’s flawless, as usual, her caramel hair twisted into a loose knot atop her head. I help her sit again, then position myself opposite the pair of them, my bare feet resting on the towel, my wrists resting on my knees. “What’s this?” I ask. Danielle hands me a glass of wine from a small table behind her. I take it but don’t drink. “Danielle?” “It’s what I have to do,” she replies, and inhales. Her breasts expand beneath that silverywet dress and her nipples brush the fabric.

Joey’s watching her, too, closely. I drink the wine to distract myself. “We’re here to talk about the future.” Dani shoots Joey a look. It shares too much, that glance, as if they’re in on some secret and I’m not. I grip the glass a little too hard, and wine slops onto my shirt. I curse and wedge the wine glass in the sand beside me, then unbutton and strip. I toss the ruined garment aside then pick my wine up again. I’m bare-chested now, and Danielle’s gaze traces my tattoos, my pecs, my abs. Joey doesn’t say a fucking word. He’s got to hate her looking at me at least as much as I hate her sitting so close to him. I offer him a tight smile. He doesn’t return it. “I’ve got some things to say.” Danielle sets her wine glass down, too. “And that’s why we’re here

tonight. I—Please, neither of you interrupt me until I’m done. And no fighting. I’m sure you’ll want to come back here someday, with or without me.” My heart leaps. With her? “Can you agree not to fight?” “Yes,” Joey says. “Yes.” I wipe my hands down my jeans, then shift so I’m kneeling. Better to shove myself up from this position, in case Joey goes back on the no-fighting agreement. “Good,” she says. “OK, I’m really nervous.” She titters a laugh. “So, here’s the thing. I love you, Holden.” Fuck yes. Mine. She’s always been mine. “And I do understand everything we’ve spoken about. Your family is important to you, and I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to ever do

anything to hurt your daughter or complicate things for her or you.” “Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. “Is there a ‘but’ in this equation?” “Yes. That’s why we’re here.” Danielle drags her teeth across her bottom lip, then pops it out. So full, so tempting. “I understand that it’s an ultimatum for you. I stay with you and wait, or I leave you alone.” Fuck, the thought of her leaving makes me sweat. “And if I leave, you don’t want me near Joey either.” Danielle inhales three tiny breaths, then releases them in one long flow. Around us, it’s quiet. The cabana nearby is unmanned, for once— it’s nearing the end of the weekend and everyone’s up at the main hall partying or fucking in private. “That’s correct,” I say.

Joey shifts, and his upper lip twitches. “But that’s a problem for me,” Danielle says, and she chokes up a little. “Because I’m falling for Joey, too.” I open my mouth, but she holds up a hand. “Let me finish,” she says. It takes all my willpower not to get up and fucking walk away. If I do, I’ll regret it. I understand that. I stay because of it, but I’m still on the cusp. One push and I’ll fuck off, heartbreak or not. “You’re different in so many ways,” she says. “You’re unique. Joey is hot, he’s got a temper, he’s passionate, but he cares. You’re controlled, you’re cool-headed and in control, and you love your family life. Both of you have pieces of my heart because of it.” Tears stream down her cheeks, and Joey shifts again, this time closer to her, his brow wrinkled. Mine does the same.

Danielle crying sobers me. I push away my anger and my ego and focus on her, totally. “You’re two sides of the same coin, and I know it’s too much to ask to have you both, but that’s what I want, OK? I want to be able to love you both. I want to—” She cuts off and breaks down, burying her face in her hands. Joey takes her left hand, lifts it, kisses it. “It’s OK,” he rumbles. “It’s not OK,” she says. “It’s so selfish of me to love you both. To want you both. But I do. I love you so completely. God.” She coughs and slurps, then reaches for a serviette on the wicker table behind her. Joey gets to it before her and hands it over. She wipes her nose. “Gross.” She manages a weak laugh. “Sorry.” “You don’t need to be sorry,” I say. They both look over at me, her with a measure of small hope and Joey with something else.

Whatever it is, it isn’t anger. Maybe, he’s past it. Is my little—one minute, ha—brother actually more mature about this than I am? He clearly cares for her. He’s worried about her crying, fetching her tissues and shit. Where I’m the hard bastard sitting on the other side of the blanket. I can’t control everything. That’s what’s clear here. I can’t control how Danielle feels. I can’t only decide what I want to do about this situation. “I won’t leave you, Danielle,” I say, moving across to her left side. I cup her cheek in one hand. “Don’t cry. I love you.” I draw her lips to mine and kiss her, long and hard. Danielle’s tears wet her lips, but I lick them up, taste the saltiness and kiss her harder. She gasps against my mouth. “I love you, too,” she whispers,

then turns her head away. “And I love you, Joey.” It should fuck me up inside hearing those words, but it doesn’t. All I care about is how happy she is. Is she OK? Will she stop crying? Danielle’s pain is more important than anything I’m feeling. She doesn’t want to be selfish, even though I’ve been exactly that this entire weekend. I’ve pushed her away, then pulled her closer, demanded her faithfulness, but told her to wait. I’m the dick here, not my brother. At least he was honest with himself. I slide my hand down Danielle’s cheek, her throat, her collarbone, then cup her breast through that wet-silver fabric, trace the outline of her nipple with my thumb.

She gasps and I swallow it with a kiss. “Holden,” she whispers. “What are you doing?” “Making you feel good,” I say. Joey’s presence is a memory. He’s there, I know. He’s probably already touching her, but it doesn’t matter to me. If it takes him here to get her off, I don’t care. Only that she’s happy, that I’m part of what makes her world turn around. “Kiss me,” I say. And she does.

Chapter 23 Danielle Is it too much to hope that this kiss means Holden wants to be with me, even though I’m totally selfish to want them both? Probably. I don’t care. I don’t care, I want more of this. I need more. I kiss him back, and his rough fingers pull down the front of my dress. Cool air dances across my breasts, replaced quickly by the warmth of his hand. “Holden,” I whisper.

“I’m right here,” he says, and he kisses me, swallowing anything else I might’ve wanted to say. Joey releases my left hand, and I panic, flinging my arm out and searching for him—god, what if he can’t handle this? But the pressure of him at my side shifts. He taps the insides of my thighs, and I open them for him. More cool air. This time over my pussy. Holden lays me back on the blanket, and my eyelids flutter open again. I focus on him hovering there above me, so clear and in focus. Joey inserts a finger into my pussy. I jerk, gasp, and throw up my arms. Holden catches them and wraps them around his neck, leans on his elbow, lies next to me, and runs his index finger down my throat and to my breast. He rips that cup down, too. “Do you feel good, Danielle?” I shudder a nod.

Joey presses two more fingers inside me and works them back and forth, then holds them still, deep inside, hooks them upward and focuses on my g-spot alone. “Oh, god,” I whisper. “Oh, god, oh, god.” I’m tempted to apologize again. They’re both on me. They’re both giving me pleasure. Joey is on my pussy, Holden pinching my nipples, massaging my breasts, his gaze fixed on mine. It’s unbelievable, this feeling. I’m trapped between two people I love, and they’re both set on giving me pleasure. Two strong men. I can’t move. I can only receive. “It’s so good,” I say. Joey places his mouth over my clit, and the pleasure level skyrockets. It’s not good—it’s out of this world. Three fingers working my g-spot, his

mouth on my clit, and Holden’s hands playing with my tits. Holden leans in and kisses me. He parts my lips, and I arch upward, kissing him back hard. He tastes exactly as he should, slightly sweet, warm, welcoming. He probes my mouth, explores it, demands more from me, our fluids mingling. Joey increases the pace again, rams those fingers in and out of my cunt, demanding my orgasm. Demanding I do what he want. I’m happy to oblige. My climax comes from the core, from deep within me. I’m unlocked, laid bare. I pulse around Joey’s fingers and moan into Holden’s mouth, bucking off the ground to meet his lips above me. “God,” I whisper. “God, god. So good. Please.” Joey’s fingers, Holden’s mouth. These are my

anchors in the universe. They tie me to the sand on Mystique. They tie me to the fabric of my fucking being. I finish and lie back, breathing hard. Joey doesn’t quit. He keeps his fingers inside me and continues at a slower pace. His tongue searches my folds, licks up and down, then settles on my polished, swollen nub again. He’s already licked me raw, but I want more of it. I don’t care that my pussy is a little sore from yesterday’s escapades, and the day before. It’s all this moment. All us. “You came once,” Holden whispers. “Come again, baby. Come hard. Come while I’m kissing you.” He slips his tongue back in my mouth, and we dance again. I’m so fucking out of it. Dizzy and hot and cold.

Perfect. Joey suckles on my clit, and the wet noises of him feasting on me drive me higher. It’s only been a minute since my last orgasm. Surely, I’m way too sensitive to come again. Every lick brings a half-moan, half-shriek from me. Holden catches my tongue and sucks on it, gently. “Come again,” he says, then catches it again and pulls on it a little harder. Joey’s just as demanding. He sucks the nub into his mouth and focuses on it, pounding my pussy with his fingers. I’m rising already, bucking my hips, though he holds me down, pins me to the blanket, spreads my pussy lips wide open and feasts on me. My cunt is his delicacy. “Fuck,” I groan into Holden’s mouth.

“Come, baby. Come.” “Fuckkkk.” Sparks shoot through me. I’m sailing into oblivion again, my pussy dripping, the wet slap of Joey’s fingers inside me, the soft moans as he sucks my clit, as he enjoys it, forcing me onward. Closer, closer. “Come for me, and I’ll give you anything you want,” Holden whispers into my mouth. “You want my dick in your mouth, baby?” “Yes, please,” I whimper. “Now!” “No, not now. Only when you come.” I groan and toss my head, shake it, come back to his kisses. I try kicking my legs again but can’t. I’m pinned and loving every second of it. I’m safe with them. Safe with my men. “I want it in my mouth,” I whine. I’m transformed. I’m keening, desperate. I’m the

woman who needs his cum, his brother’s cum, inside my body as much as I need air. “I want it all. Please! Please, give it to me.” Holden chuckles softly, and it’s the most erotic noise he possibly could’ve conjured up. He shifts from my lips to my ear and sucks on my lobe. “No,” he breathes. “You only get dick after you’ve come. Now, be my good girl and come. Come and scream. Now.” I can’t hold on a second longer. My eyes roll back in my skull, I shove my tits outward, arch into Joey’s face. The climax rips through my core, and I shriek into Holden’s mouth while his brother holds down my legs. I’m shattered, white-blind bliss searing through me, tearing through the last vestiges of my doubt, of my fear. I love them both. I love them both. My pussy closes around Joey’s fingers, and I

squirt, drip, pulse some more. “Yes,” Joey growls. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Fuck!” He fingers me a while longer, grunting with satisfaction at all the cum that dribbles between my legs. I collapse onto the blanket against, still clutching Holden, and kiss him again. God, he tastes good. I’ve come twice, and I still want more from them. I want them to feel as good as I’m feeling right now. Holden breaks away from me, brushes the sweat from my forehead and grins, flashing pearl white teeth. “You want dick now, baby?” “Yes, please,” I whisper, flicking my gaze from him down to Joey, still working his fingers inside me. “Please.” So he knows I want it from him, too. Joey in my cunt, and Holden in my mouth. “Please.”

Joey’s fingers slide out from inside me, and he licks them off one by one, sucking them clean of my juices, relishing each one. I moan softly in response. Somewhere close by, another couple fucks, their sex noises drifting out from beneath the palm trees and across the sand. I don’t care about them, just this. Just this moment with these two men. Holden sits me up then grabs me around the waist and flips me over onto my knees on the blanket. Joey strips the dress down, over my ass cheeks, still growling low in his throat. “Please,” I whisper. Joey spanks my ass. “Patience,” he says. I wiggle it at him, tempting him with more. “Now!” Holden undoes his pants and tugs them down,

exposes his fat dick, already throbbing for me. He grabs my chin and my mouth drops open, tongue creeping out, immediately. I lick his head and drink up the pre-cum oozing from it, savor the saltiness. “Yes,” I moan. “Yes, yes.” I lick again, and it tastes too good. Too good not to have more. I try shuffling forward to get it, but Joey holds me back, his fingertips gripping my hip. I jerk and slap my hand into the blanket. “I want it in my mouth. Let me suck you, please.” “Naughty,” Holden says, pinching my cheek. “Wait until I say you can.” He kneels in front of me and sways his dick back and forth, just out of reach of my mouth, teasing me. I look up at him, at the side-parted hair, the sharp nose, and those see-my-soul eyes and groan. “Please?” “Good girl,” he says, then finally places himself within my reach.

I gobble up his cock, greedily. I suck on his head, circle the ridge with my tongue, probe the veins, taste him. It’s so fucking good. It’s so fucking addictive. Just as good as his brother. “You like that?” he asks. “Uh-huh,” I manage, around his cock. “That’s just the tip. You haven’t even taken it all yet. Open wide, baby. Open nice and wide for me.” Joey spanks my ass again, and I yelp, opening real wide. Holden’s dick plunges inside, and my mouth waters. This is perfect. The best I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I don’t want it to stop. Ever.

Chapter 24 Joey Dani’s ass is up in the air, presented to me like the best fucking gift imaginable. Christmas has passed, but I’d give up every present I got if I could have this sweet pussy on my platter every fucking day. The light from the torches pegged in the ground illuminates those glistening lips between her thighs, the peachiness of her skin. Fuck, I’m throbbing for her already. She’s got her mouth full at the moment, but I don’t focus on that. All I want is her pleasure. I’ll give it, and I’ll

take it. I’ll make it mine. Two orgasms from my fingers and my lips. A third from my cock. Maybe another one while I’m filling her with my cum. That sounds about right. Sounds like heaven. My own personal nirvana buried in Dani’s body. The wind picks up a little and goosebumps prickle the smooth skin of her ass. I bend and lick one cheek, then kiss it openmouthed. I move to the other and do the same, painting a line with my tongue, back and forth, up and down across those full apples. She gives a muted, wet moan, her body bucking back and forth. “Fuck yes,” I whisper. My fingers are pruned up from her cum, like I’ve been in a bath for too long.

My dick aches in my pants. I unzip and let it out. I inch forward on my knees and hold it behind her entrance, watching how her back arches, how she twists and moans. Her pussy drips those sweet juices onto the blanket. Christ, it can’t get better than this, sexier. I hold the base of my cock and direct it toward that quivering gash. She’s still rocking on the spot and I time it perfectly, wait until she’s on her path backward, then thrust into her. Bury myself to the fucking balls. “Fuck!” I grunt. Another muted scream from my Dani. She’s so hot and tight, so wet, so trapped in her own pleasure that she’s already pulsing around me, keening again. She drums her feet on the blanket, kicking and shaking, pussy clenching again and again as she rocks through her third orgasm.

Third in one night. Let’s make it four. Fuck it, let’s make it ten. I’ll stay inside this woman until dawn if I have to. Anything to ensure that she comes out of this experience happy, sated, and a changed woman. My woman for good. All the pussy in the world can’t replace what I’ve got right now. She finishes again, but it’s not over yet. “Open wider,” Holden speaks up front. She moans and seemingly obliges. I don’t focus on that, only on pleasuring her. I reach around and play with her clit, and she tightens around me again. I’ve already tweaked her clit so much tonight she’s probably aching, but it’s a sure fire way to make her come again, and that’s what I need. More wetness, more warmth, more tightness.

“Good,” I grunt, as she squeezes my cock with her velvet walls. “Good, keep doing that. Keep squeezing, naughty girl.” She does as she’s told, obeys me because she knows it’s good for her. She knows my dick, my fingers, will pull her to the brink of insane pleasure yet again. I work her clit and pull my dick out of her slowly, admire the cum coating it, the slickness slathered across her lips, the insides of her thighs, all the way up to her pink, puckered asshole. “Such a dirty girl,” I growl. She tightens so hard she sucks my dick back into her depths. “Yeah, you like that? You like being called a dirty girl?” Dani’s incoherent, but her trembles tell me everything I need to know.

I thrust inside her, circling her clit with my finger, finding that sweet spot that drives her wild and relishing every little movement. Every whine or pulse brings me closer to my edge, but she’s got to come again for me. She’s got to break before I do. I’m so fucking close, though. Tingles spread through my nuts, and I quicken my pace on her clit. “Come for me, dirty girl. Come hard.” Dani whines and fucks me, thrusts herself backward, encouraging more, harder. And I give it to her. I give it all to this woman. This fantasy girl who’s taken me to another fucking place in my mind. In my soul. “Fuck,” I growl, because I can’t hold it any longer. I’ve got to fill this sweet pussy now. “Fuck, I’m coming.” Dani’s orgasm starts in time with mine. She arches into me, milking my cock with that greedy

little cunt. So greedy for my cum it makes me groan. I spank her, grip her ass cheek, and lose control. My hips work of their own accord, and I release everything into her in six long squirts. My bad girl. My dirty girl. Look what you’ve made me do. I coat her walls with my seed and hold myself inside her, grip both ass cheeks and press them together. I pull out nice and slow, holding her pussy lips tight around my cock as I slide out, keeping all that goodness inside her. I want her dripping for days after this. Dani gulps greedily at the front, glugging noises drifting back to where I’m admiring her pink swollenness, still gummed up with all my juices. She inhales sharply and quivers, still on her knees. “Oh, my god,” she says, and sits back on her heels, blocking my view. “Oh, my god, that was amazing.”

I kiss her smooth, tan shoulder, then stand and pull up my pants, zipping them closed. I fetch Dani’s dress and bring it back to her, then help her tug it on and rearrange herself. She’s just as gorgeous with it on than off, even more so now that her hair is all fucked up and she’s got that pink, just-fucked look about her. I sit down beside her, and Holden takes a spot —fully clothed again, thank fuck—opposite. This isn’t as awkward as it should be. I take Dani’s hand and kiss it. “I want to make you happy. That’s what that was about for me. I don’t know what it was about for Holden, but yeah, your happiness is what matters.” Dani chews the corner of her lip and lowers her gaze to her lap. “If it’ll make you happy to be with Holden, I’ll leave you to it,” I say. Her head snaps up again, and she opens her

mouth, urgent. “But,” I put in, stopping her before she can interject, “if it will make you happy to have both of us, I’m fine with that, too.” Fuck, it doesn’t have to be a threesome every time. I’ll have her to myself most of the time. “How will that work?” She flicks her gaze to Holden. I don’t know about him, but for me, the moments after a good fuck are the times when I think clearly, probably because there’s no urge to dominate a pussy distracting me. Holden is silent. His usual surly self. He fingers his chin and doesn’t answer. “This is more than just this weekend,” I say. “There’s more than simply the three people here to consider. Holden has a family to take care of. He has an entire life in New York that you’re a part of and I’m not.”

“I—don’t know that that’s going to be true after this,” Dani says. Holden pushes himself to his feet and looks down on us. I place my hand in the small of Dani’s back, against the wet-silver fabric that drove me crazy earlier. She’s warm beneath it, and I love that. Love the heat of her, the realness. “This is not the place to discuss this,” Holden says. “Come on, let’s take Dani back to her villa. She can have a shower, and we’ll talk about it over coffee or something.” It’s a good idea, I’ll give him that. I’m past the point of punching him, but I’m still not ready to shake his hand. I help Dani to her feet, and we set off across the sand, leaving the blanket, the wine and its little table, the glasses, all of it behind. There’s no time for that, and someone else will get it for us.

Right now, it’s all about the future. About what we’re going to do about the little problem we’ve created. I’ve created, technically. Dani holds my hand then reaches for Holden’s. He takes hers, too, and together we walk up toward her villa. How will this end? How can it possibly end well when we both want her and she wants both of us? Whatever happens, I’ll keep her. I’ll keep Dani. I squeeze her fingers, and she squeezes back. Everything will be just fucking fine.

Chapter 25 Danielle I stand under the hot water in the shower, the steam rolling around me, pillowing against the glass panes of the door and walls and pressing upward, forcing up and over toward the ceiling. I’m shattered. Emotionally, mentally, physically. I’m barely able to stand, right now, but the night is far from over. We’ve still got too much to discuss. Too much to get through.

I pick up the sponge and the soap and rub them together under the water, lather up as Joey did yesterday. New York is a forever ago. This weekend is my only reality. But it won’t stay this way, and that’s why we’re here. We have to talk. I make quick work of washing up—the twins are out there, waiting for me. They haven’t torn my living room apart yet or strangled each other, judging by the relative silence, and that bodes well for our discussion. I finish up, then step out of the shower, towel off, and grab a robe off one of the hooks on the wall next to the sink. I slip it on, tie it up and eye myself in the mirror. I’m tanner than when I arrived. And there’s another quality about me that’s different. I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe fucking two men at once has changed me. It must have. It’s hardly a

forgettable experience. I run fingers through my damp hair, which straggles past my shoulders, and sigh. “It’s got to work out,” I whisper. “It won’t always be this way. We’ll figure it out?” The last part is a question because I’m not sure we will. It’s time to talk about it, regardless. I open the bathroom door and move through to the living room, my heart beating a tattoo against my chest. I don’t want to lose either of them. “I agree,” Holden says, from the other side of the open doorway. He agrees? That’s a first. What have they been talking about while I was gone? I enter the living room, and it’s a shock to the system, seeing them there together on the sofa. They’re not exactly side by side, but they’re still

close, and not wrestling or strangling each other, thank god. Two massive men. They’re different in subtle ways, but those true personality differences run deep and I love that. My hot and cold. My Joey and my Holden. They both smile at me, Joey’s smile a little skew, Holden’s full on, stretching his lips wide. “There you are,” Holden says. “We thought you drowned.” Joey laughs. I titter one, too, but more out of nerves than real amusement. I take a seat opposite them, because sitting between them now will only lead in another direction. I’m already tender from a weekend of sex, sex, and more sex. I cross my ankles and place my hands on my thighs. “So,” I say.

“So,” Joey echoes. “Obviously, we need to work this out.” “Coffee first,” Holden says and gestures to the tray on the coffee table, holding three cups, two of them already half-empty. “You look like you’re about to fall over.” Joey scooches to the edge of his seat, gets one for me, and hands it over. Our fingertips brush as I accept it. “Thanks.” I slurp back the coffee, and it lends me a little strength. “I’ve been thinking,” I say, in the silence that follows. “I really want to be with both of you, and you know that now, but I can’t fathom how it’s possible. I—It just seems selfish of me to want that.” “It’s not selfish,” Joey replies. “I want you.” “And I do, too.” There’s a tiny hint of challenge in Holden’s tone. “But it’s not plausible

for us to all be in a relationship. It’s weird, too.” “Beyond weird,” Joey agrees. I chew my bottom lip. “So, it’s over, then.” “No.” Holden shakes his head. “We talked a little while you were in the shower, about what we want and about what you want. I’m sorry, Danielle, but I don’t think you’ll be able to continue working with me in New York. You’ll be able to visit and see Jessie sometimes, say hi, but other than that…” “I understand,” I say, but my stomach sinks regardless. I’ll miss working for him, I’ll miss his little ray of sunshine, packing her lunches and hearing her kiddie stories, but he’s right, of course. We’re adults, and we have to be responsible about this. I’ll have to come up with another form of income, and that’s fine. There are loads of waitressing opportunities in New York. My dreams of becoming a commercial pilot, however, are toast.

“But that’s not all.” Joey flicks back his hair, his expression alive with excitement. “We talked about what you deserve.” “We want to help you achieve your dreams, Danielle.” “What do you mean?” I look from one brother to the other, nerves building again. “I do a lot of traveling for the business,” Joey says. “And while I like the frequent flyer miles, I’ve gotta say that first class is getting tired.” “OK?” Please, let this be going where I think it’s going. Please, please. “We’d “We’ll pay license, all commercial you.”

like to help you out,” Holden says. for you to get your private pilot’s the hours required, and then your pilot’s license. And then we’ll hire

“I—what? That’s—but—we slept together.

That’s hardly ethical,” I whisper. “We’re beyond the point of ethics, I’d say.” Joey glances at his brother askance, then laughs. “That ship sailed yesterday afternoon. Listen, Dani, because of me, you’ve lost your job. A good job. It would’ve taken you forever to save up to do what you want to do with your life. This is a gift from two friends. Think of it that way.” Holden tugs up the legs of his pants and rests his forearms on his thighs, clasps his hands together. “Let’s be very clear here. In no way is this considered payment for anything other than a job, which you’ll undertake once I’ve purchased a private plane. If, in the future, you decide you want to stop working for us, then you’ll be free to do that within the bounds of your contract.” “Are you serious?” This is too good to be true. This is just—I shake my head. This is more than I could ever have expected or wanted. This is my dream. My life’s dream. To see the world.

The nerves are replaced by sheer excitement. I let out a little muted screech of excitement. “You’re serious!” “We’re serious,” Holden says, in that businesslike tone I’ve heard him use on the phone. The ramifications of this streak through my mind. A steady stream of thoughts that render me speechless. Until… wait. My stomach sinks. “What does that mean for us, though? I’m in love with you both. I—does that mean I won’t get to see one of you?” “You’ll see more of Joey than you will of me,” Holden says. “But we’ll still see each other, too. We’ll have weekends like these together, you and me alone. And you’ll be flying Joey around the globe, so I imagine that you’ll spend some evenings with him, too.” He grits his teeth. I process that. “And on special occasions, we’ll all get

together to make sure you have the time of your life.” Joey nods to me. “Your pleasure is what matters, Dani. Your happiness.” “And yours, too,” I counter. “And Holden’s. I don’t want to do anything that’ll jeopardize—” Holden lifts his hand and quiets me. “Everything’s going to work out in its own unique way. I’ll admit it grates me a little that you’ll have more time with Joey, but I do have my obligations in New York, and my daughter to look out for. I’ll have to start searching for a new nanny. At least, while you’re studying for your license, you’ll be in New York. We’ll put you up in your own little apartment.” So, this is our final decision. I’m not disappointed. I’m the luckiest woman alive, it seems. After all, this could’ve turned out completely different. I could’ve lost them both, my job, too, and returned to my hometown with my tail between my legs and nothing but memories that’d

probably have become bitter as time passed. “Thank you,” I say, welling up a little. “Thank you for everything. This is seriously more than I could have wished for.” Joey gets up and walks to my side. He takes the coffee cup from me, sets it on the tray, then holds my hand and I rise. He tucks me against his chest, kisses my forehead. “Come on, you need to sleep. You’ve got to head back to the city tomorrow and start a new life.” Holden stands, too, and strides around the table in the living room, slipping my hands into his. The two strong men, my Gemini twins, walk me across the living room and through to the bedroom. They strip off my robe, kiss me once on either cheek, then lower me into the bed and pull the sheets back. Their figures hover over me, and I know this is it. This is the night I’ll never forget.

The start of my life. The start of our forever.

Epilogue Danielle Five years later… I stand in the cockpit of the Longs’ private plane and dust off my uniform—a blouse and a pair of tight, tailored pants. That’s the simple uniform I picked out two years ago when I completed my commercial pilot’s license. I lay my hand on the seat and stare out at the runway. The dark tar shines in front of me. It’s going to be one helluva hot day, but it’ll be cooler in France.

It’s times like these that the wonder strikes me. If not for my crush on my boss years ago, I wouldn’t be in this situation. A knock raps at the plane’s side door and I frown—I’m not due to fly for another two and a half hours. I make a habit of checking the interior of my plane prior to every flight. I like to spend time in here alone. Just let it sink in. “Danielle?” Holden’s voice shuttles through the cabin toward me. I smile and turn from the cockpit. I walk through to meet him. My boss waits in the center of the cabin, his arms at his sides and a warm smile lifting his lips at the corners. He gives me a hug and a pat on the back, and we part. “We need to talk,” he says.

“We do? Is it about the contract?” Oh, god, does he want me to leave the company? It’s been a while since Holden and I have spent time alone together. “No, of course not. You’re an amazing asset to Galactic Empire.” “Oh, good.” I giggle nervously. “It’s about us. You and me.” I blink up at him, take in his blond, styled hair and those aquamarine eyes. No mole next to the mouth like Joey, and a few more lines on the forehead than his brother. “All right,” I say, softly. “What’s up?” “I don’t want to upset you, Danielle, but I think our time together is over. Our romantic time, at least.” He takes in a breath, as if he’s struggling with this. “It couldn’t continue forever. It couldn’t be more than a fantasy. I think we both knew that.”

Did we? Probably, yeah. It’s unreasonable for me to assume I’ll have my cake and eat it forever. And things have kind of petered off with Holden. “I’ll always love you in my own way. Just not the same way I did at the start of all of this.” I laugh, not bitterly, but at the fact that he’s clearly rehearsed this speech. That’s such a Holden thing to do. As in control as always, but softer, now. A little older, too. “You’re upset,” he says, and those lines on his forehead become more pronounced. “I don’t want there to be any hard feelings here, Danielle. I think you’re beautiful, amazing, a star in so many ways. I’ve met someone else, though, and I want to commit to her fully, knowing that this portion of my life is closed.” There will never be any hard feelings between any of us. We’ve shared too much for that. And while I loved every second of being with Holden,

it’s true that the passion we shared on Mystique Island, at the start of this adventure, has been sated. It’s not a roaring fire anymore, it’s warm coals. And it’s friendship, mainly. We haven’t been together physically in over a year, now. But with Joey… “You’re right.” I squeeze Holden’s hand. “Of course, you’re right, and I’m happy for you. I’m happy you’ve met a woman who satisfies you and who loves Jessie like the mommy she deserves. I’m so proud of you, Holden. And I’m so grateful.” His eyes glisten. “Danielle, you’ll always be a friend to me,” he says, drawing me into a hug. I inhale his scent—the spicy sweetness—one last time, and my heart flutters a little goodbye. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. Because of what we shared, I’m totally open. I’ve unlocked a different side of myself, and I can give that to Lauren. Thank you, Danielle.”

The hug lasts a second longer, then Holden pulls away from me and shoots me an easy grin. “Now, I’d better get going. I believe you have another visitor. See you at Christmas.” He gives me a mock salute then heads for the door, walking the length of the cabin, with its rich carpet—the one Joey chose—and the leather seats interspersed throughout, with their polished wooden tables between. He reaches the door and nods to someone outside, then ducks out without a backward glance. Light floods the entrance, but another figure blocks it again, almost immediately. The same height as Holden, but not exactly the same size. Bigger. Joey’s spent a lot of time working out between business meetings. We often go to the hotel gym together. He lifts weights while I cycle or do Pilates. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I reply, checking my watch. “I wasn’t expecting you for another two hours.” Joey strides across the cabin and halts in front of me, looking down the front of my blouse. “Have I ever told you how cute you look in this uniform?” “Every flight,” I reply, winking at him. “Good, just as long as you know how crazy you drive me.” “Still?” It’s been five years, and Holden’s definitely moved on. What if Joey does, too? Unlike his brother, I’m still infatuated with this man. Every second I’ve spent with him has been better than the last. I know this man, now. I love this man more than ever. “How is that a question, baby? You know I’m crazy for you. And it makes me even crazier now that you’re mine, alone, as you should’ve been

from the start,” he says. So, he knows then. I stroke the sides of his face, and he draws me into his chest, kisses my temple, then my cheekbone, my jaw, my neck. He opens his mouth and sucks, hard. “Hey,” I say. “We’ve got to fly soon.” “How about we fly early?” he asks against my neck. Joey slides his palms down my back then grabs my ass cheeks, lifting me into the air as if I weigh nothing. I let out a little shriek of joy. “The door’s not closed,” I whisper. “So?” He carries me through to the cockpit, then sits down in my chair, and grinds me against his erection. “Fuck,” he says. “It’s such a turn on, knowing it’s official. You’re fucking mine. You’re

mine for good. Forever.” Joey slips his fingers to the button on the front of my pants and undoes it. “Take it off. I’m going to own you.” I stumble upright and do as I’m told, strip off my pants, my core tightening up already. God, I can’t wait for the future with him. Whatever happens, it’ll be perfect. Joey makes quick work of tugging his dick out of his pants. He doesn’t pull them all the way down, though. “We’re going to make a mess,” I say. “Fuck it, I don’t care. I want your cum on my dick. Get over here, girl.” I straddle him, and he lifts his dick, sweeps it between my lips and shares our fluids, spreads them over his head. I quiver for him, biting my lip. “Joey,” I whisper. “Don’t tease me.”

“Quiet,” he grunts, landing a hand on my shoulder. Slowly, he presses me downward onto his cock, sheathing himself inside my heat, inch by thick inch. I writhe and clench around him, hard. “It’s too good,” I say. “Baby,” he whispers, moving me up and down, his hands on my hips. “Baby, you’ve got to stop clenching or I’m going to come. It’s too tight.” I only tighten up more at the sound of that. Joey’s my fucking god in the bedroom. He grazes his dick against my g-spot and brings me to an earth-shattering internal orgasm within seconds. I cry out and keep moving, shaking, squirting all over his lap. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Fuck me. I’m coming. I’m fucking coming.” He unloads inside me as he’s done so many

times before, squirts that hot cum deep, as I rock through the last of my orgasm, my gaze tied to his. We’re connected. We’re in love. Joey finishes with his eyes wide open, his lips parted, and his hair flopped to one side. He’s so expressive. So fucking amazing. So hot. My hot. All I need. This is the man I belong with, the man I fell for years ago, entirely by accident. Our love story might not be conventional, but it’s real. It’s true. And nothing will ever take that away from us. Joey curls me against his chest, his dick still inside me, our combined juices leaking between us, probably staining my pilot’s chair and definitely his Gucci suit pants. “You’ll marry me,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “Right?”

I bathe in the scent of him, that lemony cologne I loved from the start. “You don’t even have to ask.”

Thank you for reading! Want more of Mystique Island? I’ve included Forbidden Daddy as a special gift for you to kick off 2018. Read it right after this page!

Blakely After Dark KIRA BLAKELY

A gold letter, wrapper in diamonds, addressed to me. “You are cordially invited to Mystique Island.” My roommate says it’ll be the perfect way to forget my stupid ex. And finally lose my virginity: A masquerade ball. You don’t have to have sex… but everyone else will be. This is where I unmask my forbidden daddy. He spanks me when I’m bad. He fills me when I’m good. And his eyes… His warm blue eyes are kind of familiar. They remind me of the sexiest daddy I’ve ever known:

My ex’s dad. But he can’t be. And even if he is, I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop, Daddy… Welcome to Blakely After Dark. This is a naughty quick read for mature audiences only. Happily ever after’s are guaranteed!

Forbidden Daddy This is book 1 of the Forbidden Series. Each book is a stand alone and does not have to be read in order.

Chapter 1 Heather Sometimes I wonder what it feels like. I’ve heard that the sensation of a thick cock sliding between your lips and breaking your hymen is supposed to hurt, but I never imagine it that way. Even though I’m so tight, I think it might feel good. Really fucking good. A slickness like honey beads inside my pussy and I shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pinching my thighs together. Becky, my roommate, had a new man in her

bed last night. I could hear him grunting and her whimpering all night long. I couldn’t sleep. My little hole twinged for a taste of whatever was making Becky shriek like that. I rifle through the mail, piece by piece, trying but failing not to listen to the voice in the back of my mind. If you’d just put out, he wouldn’t have cheated on you. And then you would know how it feels to be with a man. But you just couldn’t do it… Becky says losing my virginity isn’t supposed to be a big deal. She’s had, like, two guys a month since we started the semester, and each encounter has been louder than the last. “Ugh,” I mutter, and toss the stack of junk mail down on the beaten coffee table. I live in a dorm, which means everything is beaten or worn, or had booze spilled on it at some point. Yeah, I’m twenty-one, and if you think the college kids

around here aren’t drinking heavily, you’re on something. Which says more about you than us, am I right? This is Columbia. It’s business and booze and sex. For everybody else. Becky tells me a girl “like me” should be swimming in dick by now. She calls me Miss Scarlett Johansson because of the combination of high, round breasts, blonde hair, and these lips. To me, they’re too puffy, like I just ate something I’m allergic to, but Becky calls them “dick-smoking lips.” There’s plenty of fish in the sea, she says, and for a girl like me, they’re already in a barrel. But it’s easier said than done. This whole virginity thing looms over me constantly. Why does it have to be such a big deal? “Ugh,” I say, grabbing two fistfuls of hair. “Whatsamatter?” Becky pops out of her

bedroom door. “Didn’t sleep well last night,” I grumble. “At least it’s the end of the semester. You should be over the moon.” “Right. The end of the semester.” And not two days ago, the end of my only ‘serious’ relationship. “Are you still hung up on what happened with Jake? Come on, girl, wasn’t that like a week ago?” I raise two fingers. “Two days. And yeah, I’m still hung up on it. It was a real relationship.” “Puh-lease,” Becky replies, rolling her eyes and flouncing into the living room. She fluffs her dark locks and flutters her green eyes at me. Sometimes, Becky reminds me of Claudia Schiffer without the mole. It’s probably why she’s ‘swimming in dick’ as she puts it. “It’s over. Find a new subscription. Find a new cock.”

“That would be much easier if I’d actually had a cock prior to my – uh – current drought?” Becky’s gaze chases up and down my body, and she gives her head a shake. “Oh, boy,” she says, then finally saunters over and takes a seat beside me. She puts an arm around my shoulder and bathes me in Chanel No. 5. “Listen, I know it’s rough losing someone you care about, and I’m friends with Jake, too. I won’t take sides in this, but you’ve got to let it go. Like, in every way.” “Becky.” “I’m serious. You’re so hung up on what happened with Jake that you’re ignoring why it happened. You couldn’t fully enjoy the relationship.” “I thought you weren’t taking sides,” I say, and pull out of the one-armed hug. “I’m not. I just think that this whole virginity thing is hanging over you and that you just need to,

I dunno, get rid of it. It’s not as big of a deal as you think it is,” Becky says I chew on my bottom lip. “Isn’t there anyone you can think of who can help you out?” Becky asks. I cast my mind back but I can only shake my head. Before Jake, there was nobody. I didn’t date in high school, since I had to focus on my grades. My parents can’t afford Columbia, so I worked until I got a full scholarship. Jake was my only distraction. “No, there’s no one,” I say, and shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just wait for Mr. Right.” But I don’t want to, not really. I just want to get this over with. The trouble is, I have no one to do it with, and sleeping with one of the college kids around here is a Simon Cowell, “It’s a no from me,” moment. Last night wasn’t the first time I heard one of

Becky’s escapades in detail. They don’t last that long, and sure, she makes noise, but she always complains about how inadequate they are at finding her clit. “Mr. Right? Girl, please. Try Mr. Right Now. There are quite a few seriously endowed Mr. Right Nows walking around on campus as we speak. Seriously, though, is there no one who makes you hot? Apart from Jake, I mean. Think back. Haven’t you had a crush on someone before?” Becky nudges me. “I –” My eyes glaze over for a second and my thoughts dart back in time. The first time I met him. A gentle brush of his body against mine, accidental as I backed into the hall out of Jake’s room, carrying an armload of books. My heart racing, and the deep rumble of his voice. “N-no one,” I lie.

“There is! There’s someone you’re thinking of!” Becky gasps. “Who is it?” Nicholas Bennett… Jake’s father. The day we met, he’d come to fetch his son for the short break between terms. He brushed up against me and sent heat spiraling through my core, a reaction that left me speechless. Nicholas had been in a tight white cotton tshirt that hugged the muscles of his arms and chest. Jeans tight against his thighs. And the smell – the lightest, greenest cologne. His eyes cut into me, probed me – bright blue and hungry, and his lips had seemed soft, parted to greet me. I picture kissing him, then clear my throat. “No one,” I say, firmly. “Becky, I don’t know anyone who’d help me out. And I don’t think – this is going to sound out there – but I don’t think I’d want to do it with someone I know really well, anyway. If I’m going to just, you know, get it out of

the way, it would be way better to do it with someone I’ll probably never hook up with again. That way I know there won’t be rumors about it around here, and it will have less meaning.” No risk of me falling for a tall, handsome stranger if I know I’ll never see him again. Becky’s lips twitch. “Good,” she says. “Then I’m glad I did it.” “Did what?” Becky gets up from the sofa and rushes back to her bedroom. She’s back in two seconds, holding out a golden envelope, embossed with my name in diamantes. I take it from her, and the thick golden paper is waxy beneath my touch. “What’s this?” “It’s an invitation,” Becky says, and wriggles on the spot as if she’s got to pee. Or as if she’s got the best secret in the world and I’m about to find out what it is. “This is the best thing that will ever happen to you. Open it.”

I turn the envelope over and brush my fingers over its back, and to the small diamond – is that a real one?! – attached to its back. I open it carefully, and it comes free with a small tick. Inside, I find a single sheet of paper. Miss Heather Henderson, You are formally invited to join us for the Halloween Party on Mystique Island. Masks will be required at all times during the course of your stay over the weekend. All clothing, food, and accommodation will be provided for you. Welcome to the sexiest event of your life. “What is this?” I ask, and flap the letter at her. “Becky?” “It’s a sex party,” she replied. “Are you – are you crazy?!”

“No.” Becky sits down beside me and offers me a smile fraught with ‘naughty’ intent. “Every few months, Mystique Island throws an event like this.” “An event.” “Yes, basically, Mystique is owned by a billionaire and he invites all his billionaire buddies to the island for parties like this. The rich dudes pay for everything, and if you’re lucky enough to get an invitation, you get an all-expenses paid vacation for three days on a Caribbean island.” My brow wrinkles. “What’s the catch? You have to have sex with them? That sounds a little like – you know.” “No, it’s not like that. You can have sex if you want to, and that’s encouraged. The more partners the better, but if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. Pleasure comes in many forms. That’s what they say at initiation, anyway.” Becky takes both my

hands in hers and squeezes. “I really want you to do this with me. I had to pull serious strings to get you an invite on short notice. Please, please, come with me. It will be the perfect way for you to lose your v-card and have some fun.” “I don’t know,” I say, and look down at the letter. It has a certain allure, the gold, the diamonds, and the idea of getting away, maybe even losing this damn virginity. “It’s one hundred percent safe,” Becky says. “They do tests before you get access to the island to make sure everyone’s clean. And birth control is a requirement. You’re already on it, right?” I am on it – I started it in high school on my mother’s insistence. “Yeah,” I whisper. “So?” Becky asks, and elbows me. The page flick-flacks in my hand. I nod,

slowly. “Yeah, all right,” I say, at last, and I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this. Have I lost it? Not yet. But maybe on Mystique Island, you’ll have the chance.

Chapter 2 Nicholas “I don’t give a shit if you’re not happy about it, kid; you’re taking the job and you’re staying there for the weekend, get it?” I pace back and forth in front of the massive walnut desk in my office, holding the golden envelope from Mystique Island in my hand. “But, Dad! I don’t want to work at a fucking video store. What’s the point? We have loads of cash. It’s not like I need the income,” Jake replies, ever the wise ass.

“We? Jake, we don’t have money. I have money, and you have been wasting it ever since you started at Columbia. You failed two courses last year. This is not a discussion; this is a command. Start working at the store and earn the money for your tuition.” “This is bullshit,” Jake grumbles. “I don’t want to –” “Earn it or drop out,” I say. That puts an end to his complaints. I love my kid like there’s no tomorrow, but he’s driven me mad lately. He’s always complaining, taking shit for granted, even though I busted my ass working to create a future for him. The life of a single parent isn’t easy. “And, Jake, I don’t want to hear about any problems from the owner of that store. One issue and you’re out of college, got it?”

“Yes,” he mutters. He knows better than to go against one of my directives. My tone softens at last. “You don’t have to like it. Just do it. This will be good for you. Teach you a thing or two about work and responsibility.” I say a quick goodbye, then hang up and place my iPhone on the desk. I lean against it, roll up my sleeves, and study the front of the golden envelope, embossed with my name. I don’t bother opening it, because I already know what it’s going to say. It’s time for another weekend on Mystique Island, the perfect break from work, work, and more work. I never mix business with pleasure, and attending these parties is the only way I relax, whether it’s on the beach or beneath the hands of a gorgeous woman. But there’s a catch this weekend, and an

interesting one. I’ll have to wear a mask, and so will the women. It intrigues me – I originally figured I’d skip this and spend the weekend working, but everything’s fine at the office, and god knows, I need a break for once. I slip my finger beneath the lip of the envelope, open it with a soft tick. I slip the sheet out from within and study it. Should I go? Should I stay? I weigh the golden envelope in one hand and the paper in the other. The masks will spice things up a bit. I lean over and press the intercom button on my desk phone. “Janet? Clear my appointments for the weekend. I’m going dark.”

Chapter 3 Heather I step onto the white sands of the Caribbean beach and lose my breath. It’s exactly like a postcard, just as I’d imagine it – soft, silky sand beneath my bare feet, the gentle kiss of a breeze on my skin, and palm trees lined up against a wooden deck ahead. A woman in a form-fitting pantsuit beckons to us, her red hair done up in a bun. Becky and I, and several other women, shuffle toward her, all giggling or talking amongst ourselves, dressed in our travel gear.

A first-class flight, a boat ride on turquoise waves, and now this – every minute has been worth it so far. “Welcome, ladies, I trust your initiation on the boat wasn’t uncomfortable,” the admin lady says. We all nod and smile at her because Mystique smacks of… well, of mystery, and we’re here. Nerves burble in the bottom of my belly, but they’re the happy kind. “You’ll all be escorted to your villas, immediately, where you’ll change into the dress provided and attend your first evening party,” the admin lady continues. “Please, remember that masks must be worn at all times, even during intercourse.” She’s so matter of fact about it, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world – sex will happen. “This is a safe space. If you ever feel uncomfortable, just raise your hand and you will be escorted back to your villa. That’s all.”

She claps her hands and men appear out of nowhere, dressed in white shirts and beige slacks. One of them steps in front of me wearing a smile that parts his lips over teeth as white as his button down. “Hello, Miss Henderson,” he says. “Please, follow me to your villa.” He offers me an arm and I take it. I’m swept off through paradise, past buildings and palm trees, over sand and finally, onto a boarded walkway, over grass, past a trickling stream that leads to a pond between two villas. He drops me off in front of the villa, a thatched roof construction with a single door and floor-to-ceiling windows. “I’ll pick you up here in five minutes, ma’am,” he says. I hesitate, then slip inside. My bags have already been placed next to a double bed, which is decorated with rose petals and a single slinky black dress. It’s cut low in the front, set to expose so much cleavage I might as well walk into the party

naked. “What the hell,” I whisper. “Let’s do this.” I never step out of my shell and it’s past time I give it a shot. I change quickly, check my reflection in the standing mirror beside the entrance to the bathroom, and flick my hair. I do a quick touch up on my makeup, then let out a low whistle. I’m not usually dressed like this. The girl in the mirror doesn’t look like me, or at least, not the ‘me’ I’m used to. Her long, tan legs scoop up into an ass that looks like twin bubbles beneath this cloying fabric, and her narrow midriff curve is accentuated by the dress. Her breasts gleam with a sheen of island sweat, peeking out from beneath the thin, silky neckline. I square my shoulders and bury my nerves, but they pop up right away. I slip on the glittering mask, which leaves only my lips and eyes exposed, then

walk to the exit and open the door. The helper dude smiles encouragement and offers his arm again but doesn’t comment on my appearance. It kinda makes me feel good. Like I’ll fit in or like it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. “Where are we going?” I ask. He gives me a quizzical look. “To the party, Miss Henderson.” He leads me down the long, wooden path, and the low hum of laughter and talk drifts on the air, alongside a rhythmic beat of music. The sun is an orange orb, dipping toward the horizon and long shadows chase across the grass. We head down toward the beach again, and step onto the sand. I’m still barefoot, but I’m not the only one. My assistant steps back and out of view, leaving me to mingle with the guests. And there are so many guests.

Men in jeans and shirts or suits, all wearing masks in differing colors. Women in dresses similar to mine, with their own glittering masks. Waiters swerve between them in uniforms, carrying trays of drinks and bite-sized appetizers. The

music

echoes

down

the

beach,

complemented by the gentle wash of waves on the sand. I grasp a wicker chair from a row nearby and ease myself into it, accept a flute of champagne from one of the waiters – also masked. Mystery is in the air, and something else, too. It’s in the glances of the women, some of whom saunter over to the masked men, swaying their hips. It’s in the gentle caresses doled out by the men, sweeping fingers down backs, or resting them on necks or faces. I swallow panic. Where the hell is Becky? I glug back some of the alcohol and search for her in the crowd but I can’t tell who is who. The

back of my neck prickles, I spin around, and meet the crystal blue gaze of a man nearby. He leans casually against the bar, and his gaze sweeps up and down my body, dancing over it. My insides tighten and I jerk upright. He tilts his head to one side, raises a finger, beckons. I can’t shake my head. I can’t do anything but stare at him. He’s taller than most of the men at the party, and he fills out his shirt. His biceps tug at his sleeves, his thighs are encased in a pair of beige slacks, and I force myself not to focus on his bulge. He tugs fingers through wavy brown hair, which looks soft as silk by the light of the flickering torches pegged in the sand, and he won’t quit watching me. Another tightening inside my body, but this is

different. It’s hot and tingly, and oh, god, I actually want to go over to him. Am I crazy? I came all the way out here, but now… it’s so out there, so in my face, and I’m struggling to catch up. A moan breaks the moment, and I look over at the source. Two steps from me, a couple are wrapped around each other. The masked man holds one of the woman’s legs up, exposing her pussy to the warm dusk breeze. He runs two fingers between her lips, and she moans again. I’m frozen. My heart races, my body responds – nipples pucker, tingling deep within my core. Oh, god, why is this so hot? It’s so hot! The masked man inserts two fingers inside his partner and she slaps her hands down on his shoulders, clings to him, and lets out a feral growl this time. Heat creeps up my neck, accompanied by the

acute awareness that masked blue-eyes watches me, still. The couple topple to the sand. He rips down the slope of her neckline and suckles on her right breast, still working his fingers deep inside her. His dick is already out, glistening with pre-cum. She fumbles for it, grasps it between her thighs, and starts stroking his shaft. The man’s breath hitches. It’s all too much for me. Wetness drips between my thighs. I feel the need to stay and watch, even though it’s not like anything I’ve witnessed before. What if someone grabs me just like he grabbed her? Am I about to have public sex with a stranger for my first time? I hesitate, spare one glance for the masked man by the bar, and then I run for the palm trees, away from the noises of sex and toward the crash of waves.

Chapter 4 Nicholas She’s running. The young blonde who caught my eye runs from the visions of sex and satisfaction, toward the line of palms. It has to be her first time here. I follow. I’ve never seen something I’ve wanted and not gone for it. I want her. I want her body against mine, her pussy tightening on my cock as I pulse inside her. Raw, skin on skin. I want it and I’m going to get it.

I stride across the sand, drawn on by her temerity. She seems innocent, the wide-eyed look, the flush which crept up her neck at the moans. Fucking perfection. I’ll make her groan and writhe just like that. I catch up to her beneath the palms. She leans against one of them, her head tilted back to expose an expanse of succulent neck, her eyes closed. One hand is between her legs, pressed against the fabric of her teeny tiny dress. “It’s only worse if you run,” I say. She gasps and opens her eyes, snaps her arms to her sides. “W-what?” “Delayed gratification. It made you hot, seeing them like that,” I say. “Why run?” “I – It’s my first time,” she says. Her voice is smooth and sweet, almost musical, but not too highpitched. A fine wine.

“I’ll show you around,” I say, and gesture to the picnic spot up ahead. Blankets have already been laid out on the sand, between the torches, next to baskets. None of the partygoers have moved over to them yet. They’re all high on the arrival. “No, I mean –” She sucks in a breath and chews on one full bottom lip. “It’s my first time ever… having sex. I’m a virgin.” My cock stiffens, immediately, desperate to be free and claim her. “That’s good,” I say, and take a single step closer. “You want to lose it.” That has to be why she’s here. “Yes,” she says. I don’t ask why. It’s not important, right now, only that she wants this. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, she breathes hard and glances down at the front of my pants. She presses her lips together. “You don’t mind?” she asks, softly. “That I’m

a – that it’s my first time?” I close the distance between us in two strides and press my body against hers, my crotch into her abdomen. “Does it feel like I mind?” I capture her dainty wrists in my fingers, encircle them and pin them above her head. I grind into her, real slow, and her eyelids flutter. “Oh – my,” she whispers. “I’ll take it for you,” I say. Her lips part, she nods ever so slightly, and I release her from the tree, and lead her back to the beach where the blankets wait. I slip her dress off her shoulders and expose perky tits, tan lines from a bikini cutting across her skin, pale triangles around pink nipples, and her pussy, hairless. The gentle thrum of music and the ocean itself provide the perfect backdrop. I take her hand and place it on my dick, still

trapped by my pants. She gasps. “It’s big. It’s too –” I unzip the pants for her, draw out my length and place her hand on it. It’s big, all right, thick and hungry for her, already wet from the anticipation of claiming her first time, claiming her virginity as mine. She strokes my shaft, runs fingers over my head. I take her hand again, this time to guide her down onto the blanket. She lies back, brown eyes wide, her lips parted. I can’t see the rest of her face, but I can tell this rocks her world, her very existence. “I –” she stammers and looks down at her body, her tits bouncing slightly, so full and begging to be touched, to be sucked and licked. “I’ll go slow,” I say, and lie down on top of her. Christ, it’s been so fucking long since I’ve had a woman, especially one who’s this gorgeous,

untouched, and smells of ocean, champagne, and light, floral perfume. I’m already throbbing for her, fucking aching to be inside her and feel the velvet warmth of her walls, the tight wetness. I brace myself on my elbows, then reach between us and slide my fingers between her pussy lips. She’s swollen and dripping, so wet she’s already dripped all over her thighs. We haven’t even kissed yet and she’s this ready for me. She trembles. I stroke her clitoris, a gentle flick made slippery with her own juices. She throws her arms around my neck and cries out. “That’s right,” I say. “I’m going to make you come.” I kiss her cheek open mouthed, and trail a line of hot kisses to her ear lobe, then suck it. “I’m

going to make you come so hard, you won’t remember yourself,” I whisper, and circle her clit. “You’re mine now.” She digs her nails into my shirt, and I like it that way. She’s naked, and I’ve got my shirt and pants on, just my dick out, seeking her. I place it at her slick yet tiny entrance and guide it slowly. She tenses and I move away from her ear, back to her lips. “Slow,” I promise, then part her lips with mine and taste her mouth. “Slow. Say you want it. I want to hear you say it.” “I want it,” she whispers. “I’m yours. Take me.”

Chapter 5 Heather “Take it,” I say again, and cling to him. The distant groans of the sex party down the beach rise and fall, some lost beneath the thump of music, others rising to greet us. God, I’ve never wanted anything as much in my life. But I’m scared. The nerves have redoubled, but the need for him is stronger. My skin prickles, goosebumps rise, and I anticipate the pain.

He enters me bit by bit, slow as he promised. He sheathes himself inside me – a sharp pang of pain, followed by the pleasure, radiating alongside it. I bite down on my lip and keep from crying out. It’s hot and sore and so good, nothing like I expected. As the waves crash on the sand, pleasure rolls over me. The masked man with piercing blue eyes, now slightly glazed, halts his thrust and waits. He studies my face with care, gauges my reaction. He’s worried he’s hurting you. I swallow. “I’m fine,” I manage, because the need chokes me up. He doesn’t hesitate, moves inside me, filling me up and gliding. His shirt scrapes against my bare chest, and tickles me. I squirm and wrap my legs around him instinctively.

I’m in shock, caught between breaths and pulse racing. This is happening. It’s actually happening. He strokes my hair, then tugs on it lightly, and thrusts a little harder. I cry out and tighten my grip on him, kiss him again, probe his mouth, tasting, needing more, more, more. His tongue tastes of champagne and I inhale him, reveling in the smell, the taste, the brush of his tongue against mine. “More,” I groan. “Faster.” It springs from my lips. “I’m ready.” He increases the pressure, braces his knees and drives into me, deeper than before, stretching me, increasing both pain and pleasure with those strong thrusts, his dick claiming the soft, warm core no one has taken before. “Mine,” he grunts, and thrusts deep again, spearing me with ecstasy, his pubic hair grazing my

clit and taking me higher still. He halts and I blink – it can’t possibly be over, can it? He presses a finger to my lips, just below my mask. “You’re mine.” “Uh huh,” I say. “I mean it. You don’t touch anyone else this weekend. You’re mine,” he repeats. “My forbidden vixen.” “Okay,” I say, and tighten around him. This talk builds that pressure inside me, feeding a furnace. “Say you’re mine.” His dick is the center point of my existence right now, and it’s so hard. He can take the pleasure away or bring more, and I want all of it. I want everything he has to offer. He cups my cheek in his hand, then strokes my bottom lip. He bends down, sucks on it and pulls, then pounds into me again.

“Oh, god, I’m yours. I’m yours, Daddy.” Shit, what? Did I just call him –? “Daddy,” he growls, “I like that. You’ll call me that from now on. I’m Daddy, and you’re my vixen.” I writhe beneath him and reach for the buttons of his shirt. I tear at them, but my fingers shake too much to get them open. He uses one hand and rips the shirt open – buttons ping off into the sand. His chest is an expanse of muscle, knotted and slick with sweat. Beads trace down his pecs and drip onto my breasts. I grab them and massage – I want to feel good, I want to feel everything. Daddy watches me from behind the mask, his eyes glinting by the torchlight. All I have to go on are his lips, not too thin, not too full, now parted, his tongue resting between his teeth, and those eyes. He devours me with them and moves inside me again.

He’s on both elbows, angling his body so his abdomen presses against my clit with every thrust. He’s deep, so deep, and he’s taking me somewhere I’ve never gone before with a man. I arch my back off the sand, press my breasts into him. My eyes roll back in my head. “Daddy,” I groan. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” I chant the mantra over and over. He captures my lips again and kisses me hard. “Good,” he growls. “Good girl. Come for me.” I tense beneath him and sail toward the crest of a wave. Everything whites out, except for him. He’s the world and he’s taking me there with even thrusts, his slick torso pressed against mine. “Come for me,” he grunts. I explode over the edge, crash into the waves of pleasure. They swell around me, overwhelm me, and I clench tight around his cock, massaging him,

pulsing through my orgasm. I’m frozen, eyes closed, in a stupor. “Jesus, you’re tight.” His dick hardens further. His thrusts are desperate, fast and hard. I rock through my orgasm and grip my breasts, my mouth open. He sucks the tip of my tongue, then jams into me one more time. He spurts inside me, groaning as he does, a long low rumble of sound. “Yes,” I manage. “Yes, Daddy.” His orgasm coincides with the aftershocks of mine. He spasms inside me one last time, filling me up for the first time, then lays on top of me, breathing hard. I inhale the sea salt and the scent of his skin, then shut my eyes.

It’s over. It’s finally over. I’m not a virgin anymore. No, I’m not. I’m his for the weekend, and I don’t even know his name.

Chapter 6 Nicholas I stand on the wraparound porch of my villa and hold the glass of orange juice to my lips. I haven’t taken a sip since I lifted it from the tray in my living room. Thoughts from yesterday, my girl’s body beneath me, have taken me to another fucking plane of existence. I’ve never come so hard as I did with her. I filled that pussy with all I had and I’ll do it again. And her smell… it’s something special, a scent that unlocked a hidden desire. The floral scent, so

light and fragrant, is familiar to me. I can’t place where I’ve smelled it before. I finally take a sip of the orange juice and savor the tang on the sides of my tongue. She’s tastier. I’ve named her my vixen, but the curiosity has already seeped through my veins. I want to know who she is. My cell phone rings inside the villa, and I squeeze my eyes closed. “Fuck,” I mutter. Mystique Island has a strict no cell phones policy for this exact reason. It breaks the fucking magic of the moment. I can’t disconnect from work for too long, though, and sneaking in a few calls here and there can’t hurt. I walk back into the living room, the floors of polished wood creak beneath my steps, and I lift the phone from the mantel where I left it. Jake’s number flashes on the screen.

I put down the glass of OJ, then answer. “Son,” I say. “You should be at work.” “I am at work,” he replies, and I pre-empt the annoying whine. “Dad, it’s bullshit. This guy is a total dictator. I’m not going to handle working for him.” “Then you’ll be out of Columbia by the end of the week,” I say. “Can’t I just work for you?” he asks. “No,” I reply. I’ve always hoped that my son would take over the reins at the Plug, but he’s fucking hapless currently. A couple weeks of grinding it out at a local store will put some steel in his spine. “Seriously?” he hisses, then hangs up. Little prick. He’s on the fast road to a wakeup call that will be very unpleasant for him, and will be none of my doing. I place the phone on the mantel

again, but this time, I hold in the button on its side and turn it off. I’ll stick to the Island’s rules from now on. There’s a mixer on the beach – I can make out the thrum of noise from my oceanfront villa – and I snatch up my mask and put it on. Hopefully, my girl will be down there, waiting for me, and if not, I’ll fucking find her. I need to fill her again, to feel her walls close around me, taste her mouth and that soft skin at her neck. She’ll be my drug while I’m on Mystique. I check my reflection in the mirror and nod. Forty-two years old and I’m still working out, not a hint of gray in my hair, with a dick thick enough to please hundreds of women. Except, I don’t want hundreds of women. I learned my damn lesson years ago, when I fell for Jake’s mother and ultimately lost her. I want no one.

Except that’s not technically true anymore. I want my girl, my vixen, and I want her now. I head out the front door, clomp down the three wood steps that lead onto a dirt path between two hedges. I like it this way – closed off and private. I requested it from Blake, my buddy who owns the island. The idea seemed pretty fucking far out at first, but now? I won’t look back. I reach the sand, kick off my shoes, then hit the sand. My feet sink into the silken whiteness and I relish that sensation – this is what a vacation is supposed to be. Relaxation, and a gorgeous woman begging for it. Mine. She’s mine for the weekend. I walk down to the party, the same spot where the picnic baskets had been the night before, and past a couple fucking on the sand. He’s got her leg pinned back and her pussy on display, pounding her with every inch he has. Her tits bounce beneath the

two fabric triangles of her bikini. She’s hot, but she’s not my girl. I walk on and take a seat on one of the beach chairs, shaded by a colorful umbrella, near a volleyball net. Scantily glad women jog around and giggle, their bodies tight or curvy. Different shapes for different tastes. Vixen isn’t among them. I rub my palms together and settle back, close my eyes. Giggles, a soft moan from behind me, and the thump of the ball hitting the sand. The sun beats down on my skin, and I tug off my t-shirt, careful not to unseat the mask. Where is she? She should be here. I sit up again and look around. And there she is, walking across the sand toward me, wearing nothing but a tiny gold bikini. It sits against her tan skin and teases me. It’s almost invisible because of the hue.

She approaches, casts sideways glances at the others on the beach, but everyone’s lost in their own private joy. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and strands of hair escape it and flutter across her mask. She catches them and tucks them behind her ear. “Vixen,” I say, and pat my crotch. “Take a seat.” She licks her lips, hesitates, then sidles over. She straddles me and sinks onto my lap. I tuck her legs up onto the chair, her tits jouncing from the motion. One of her nipples escapes and she lets out a muted cry and tugs the tiny triangle of glittering fabric over it. “Shy?” I ask. “I’m – I guess,” she says. “I’m not used to all of this.” She nods to the women playing volleyball,

and the couple two beach chairs over. The woman there has her mouth wrapped around her partner’s cock. She winks at me as she sucks him off. Vixen stiffens and lays across my chest, claiming me. I grin at her. “It works both ways,” I say. “You’re mine for the weekend, and I’m yours.” Her shoulders relax a little and she shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll never see each other after this, so it’s okay.” I grasp her chin and lift it, make sure she’s connecting with me for real. “Hey,” I say, “it matters. It fucking matters.” “It does?” Her pussy rests against my dick, already stiffening for her again. “Yeah,” I reply. “Nobody touches you but me. Got it?”

“Got it,” she whispers.

Chapter 7 Heather I’m intoxicated by him. He’s a powerful man whose face I’ve never seen, but he’s made me come and writhe and moan his name. He’s made me promise to be his for the weekend, and if he asked it, at this point I might even promise to be his for longer than that. This isn’t what I expected. I’d figured I’d eventually work up the confidence to fuck someone, but this?

I’m wild, and free, and he’s the one who did this to me. I lie against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, a steady tha-thump beneath me. His dick, hard again, is trapped between us, a reminder of what we shared last night. I move against him, gently, a circular motion, barely noticeable. “Careful, girl,” he says. I gulp and look up at him. His lips are inches from mine, and his eyes bore into mine above the rims of his matte-white mask. Motion draws my focus to the beach chair beside us. A masked man lies down and two naked women join him. Everything is exposed, apart from their faces. They kneel either side of him. One kisses him, the other fumbles with the tie on his shorts. “Do you want to leave?” Daddy asks me.

I shake my head. I want to see it. I blush at that particular realization. This is beyond naughty. It fascinates me. The women ignore us. The blonde finally gets his dick out of his shorts and doesn’t waste a second. She locks her lips over his head and sucks on it, moaning as she does. The brunette kissing him looks up and smiles. She gets up and steps over the chair, lines herself up with his face. I’m tense all over, waiting for what happens next. My pussy is already clenched tight. The brunette sways from side to side, capturing the man’s gaze with her own, even as the blonde strokes his dick and sucks, noisily. He grins up at the brunette and crooks a finger. She lowers herself and presses her pussy to his

face, gripping the pole of the umbrella behind his chair for leverage. She places her other hand on his forehead, then rocks back and forth and fucks his face, leaving wetness on his lips, his chin, the tip of his nose. I can’t tear myself from what’s happening. I can’t possibly tighten any more than I already have. I spare a glance for Daddy. He watches them, too, and his dick pulses against my bikini bottoms. Two layers of fabric between us and we might as well be naked. I’m ready for him, but I can’t work up the courage to say it out loud. The blonde chokes on the man’s dick, grins and wipes dribble from her bottom lip. She gets up, turns around, and sits down, guiding his cock to her entrance. She slides it inside and he groans against the brunette’s pussy lips. The noises intensify – grunts and groans, the

wet slap of flesh, and the soft gasps. I want it, too. I want all of that, but with Daddy. I lick my lips and meet his gaze. I’m not even sure how to suggest it. Daddy grasps my elbows and helps me sit up, then stand. “What are you doing?” I whisper, and glance at the trio beside us. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to miss a second of this. I’ve already wet the golden triangle between my legs. “You,” he replies, then stands, too. He strips off his slacks, then rips down my bikini bottoms, and runs a hand over the curve of my ass cheek. He slaps it once. I shudder at the sharp pain. “Now?” I ask. “Bend over,” he says. “Knees on the chair.” I follow his instructions, right away. I get up

on the chair, and my breasts pop free of the bikini top. I’m past caring. I lean my forearms on the back of the chair and rest my head on them, look over at the threesome. They’ve already changed positions. The blonde lies on her back, the brunette between her legs, eating her pussy, sucking her clit, running fingers between her lips and probing her, all while the masked man fucks her from behind, watching. I breathe hard, look back over my shoulder at Daddy. He’s naked, and his dick puts the other man’s to shame. He’s thick and already dripping. He steps up to me, but doesn’t enter me. He drops out of sight. I gasp. “Oh, god!” His tongue sweeps between my pussy lips. He

inserts it inside me and eats, feasts. God, he’s everywhere, his fingers digging into the meat of my ass, his lips sucking on my clit now, tongue circling it. I arch my back and rock along to this fresh new indulgence. Each caress of his tongue sends shocks of electricity through my core. I shiver and my nipples pucker. Next to us, the blonde writhes on the beach chair. She grips a handful of the brunette’s hair and thrusts her hips upward. “I’m coming,” she cries out. The brunette doesn’t let up, merely moans and drinks down more of her flavor, smacks her lips. I’m close, too. Daddy’s lips and tongue are expert. They circle my clit and probe my folds, my entrance. He slurps and sucks again, and I rocket toward my first orgasm of the day. Somehow, I know there will be many more.

Chapter 8 Nicholas The sun beats down on my back and brings droplets of sweat from my skin. I suck on Vixen’s tight pussy, then run a finger over the white flesh on either side of her pink folds. She quivers, so close to coming I can already taste it. I want her to come on my face, but not as bad as I want to feel her coming on my cock again. I get up before she comes and grasp the base of my dick, guide it to her slick opening.

“Please,” she whimpers and turns her head to catch me in her gaze. “Daddy, I need your dick.” “Where do you need it, baby?” “Inside me.” “Inside that tight wet cunt,” I say. She tries backing herself onto my dick and I hold her at bay, one hand on her lower back. “Please, Daddy, don’t make me wait for it,” she whimpers. Her voice is thick with her impending climax. She’s swollen again, juices dribbling onto the tip of my head as I hesitate. The threesome next to us isn’t over yet. One orgasm isn’t enough and the man pounds into the blonde now, as she eats out the brunette, her pussy hole gaping from where he entered it minutes ago. I focus on my girl, she makes the other two women disappear, and press my dick to her hole,

wet from my spit and her juices. “Daddy,” she groans, and this time it’s petulant. Why won’t I just fuck her already? Delayed gratification. She stomps her foot and her ass wobbles, her lips dance against my skin. I slap both of her ass cheeks then thrust into her, deep as I can go. The sound that escapes her is part cry, part howl. She comes instantly, closes around my dick and milks it, though I’m not on my cusp just yet. I thrust into her, deep and slow, intensifying her orgasm and savoring the warm stroke of her cunt around me. “That’s right, girl,” I say. “Come for me.” “Yes,” she hisses, and rams her ass back into me. She deserves more than one orgasm.

Her flawless body, the jolts of pleasure that rock through me with every clench, and her submissive acceptance of my ownership of her, they all add up to ecstasy for me. I drive into her again, and again, reach around with one hand play with her clit, drawing a hiss from her. “Daddy, it’s too much. I just came. I can’t –” “You’ll come again,” I reply, and grasp the bun on the back of her head with my other hand. I free her hair, snag a handful, and pull hard. She responds instantly, her body tightens again, and she grips the edge of the beach chair with whitened knuckles. “Good,” she groans, and flinches beneath my touch. I use our combined moisture to lube up her clit and continue stroking her, sending her into a spasm with each circle.

“Daddy, it’s so good. God, you’re so fucking thick,” she growls. The blonde, still sucking on the brunette’s pussy next door, watches us fuck, her eyes glistening. “You’re so thick,” Vixen repeats. “More, more.” I circle her clit one more time, then transfer my hand to her hip and lift my leg. Place my foot on the chair to get a better angle. I tug on her hair and pull her head back a little, so her moans struggle from her throat. She loves it and works herself backward against me. “More,” she chokes out. “Oh, Daddy, it’s so good. Fuck, it’s so good, I’m going to come again.” Next to us, the brunette goes into the first throes of her own climax. She grips her breasts and pressed them together, writhing and already lost.

“Harder, Daddy,” my girl pleads. I give it to her good, bury myself deeper and deeper, thrusting hard and pausing between each one. “Come for me,” I command, out of breath. The sweat rolls down my pecs, the apples of her ass cheeks rising beneath me. Her pussy is on display. I watch myself glide in and out of her, thick and wet. I’ve got to see her come, now. I want to shoot inside her while she comes and watch it all happen. “Come,” I command, as the tingling starts in my core. My girl backs into me again and breaks over the edge, she tightens and cries out again. I thrust to meet her and my climax overwhelms my senses. My knees shake, my dick grows even larger, impossibly large. I pull out and squirt cum on her pussy lips, then dive right back in again and pound out a few

more strokes, releasing the rest of my fluid into her. Her pussy closes a final time and doesn’t let go for a good two seconds, then releases. “Oh, god,” she whispers. “Oh, my god.” And she collapses onto the beach chair below me.

Chapter 9 Heather I stumble into my villa at noon, still high on Daddy’s touch. Before this, I would never have considered calling anyone by that nickname, but with him, it feels right. I can’t fathom why. I’ll save the thought for another time. Right now, I’m in serious need of a shower and a change of clothes. Not that I have much on me. I’ve got my bikini top and that’s it – the bottoms are lost somewhere in the sand. I hurry through to my bathroom, past my

double bed, which has been made by the staff on the island, thoughts bent on my time with the mystery man. The masks are a pain in the ass. I long to rip his off, just so I can see what’s underneath, to identify the man I’m with. I won’t know him, yeah, I don’t exactly run in billionaire circles back in New York, but at least I’ll remember his face after this and look back on this time. “No looking back,” I mutter, and shake my head at myself. “You’re here to lose the virginity, to be wild. No emotions. No attachments.” The sex is amazing, not that I have a real frame of reference here, but I can’t afford getting invested. I have tonight and tomorrow night, and after that, it’s over. No more Daddy. No more fun. I’ll return to my normal life at Columbia, study and work hard, and hopefully, all this pressure and sex stuff will be off my mind.

I slip off my bikini top and drop it into the wash basket beside the basin. The bathroom is all cool colors, pale blue tiles, steel gray fittings with a matte finish, and a mirror over the sink that reflects it all. I step into the open plan shower and switch on the hot water. Steam pours down and I’m instantly doused. I don’t want to wash his scent off my skin, not really, but I have to get clean for tonight. I’ve promised to meet him at the party in the main hall – a place we’ve never been – and I can’t go without – A knock rattles my front door, and I drop the soap. Never a good idea. “Hello?” I call out, then roll my eyes. How will anyone hear me in this? I’m about to switch off the water when the front door clicks. I tense up. What if it’s him? What if he’s come to my villa, without his mask? A thrill travels down my spine. I wash up as fast as I can,

but footsteps track across the wooden boards in my bedroom and toward the entrance to the bathroom. My pulse races. I cut off the water and reach for a towel on the hook beside the shower. I grab it just as a shape materializes in the steam. A woman’s shape. “What the –?” “There you are, girl, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Becky’s voice is honeyed, and she waves the steam from her face. “Still taking showers that’ll burn your skin off.” “Oh my god,” I say. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I totally forgot about you.” “A mean feat,” Becky replies and winks at me. She’s stunning in her bikini and a lace shift over it. “I take it there’s a reason you haven’t come over.” “I – uh, I don’t know where you stay.” I wrap

the towel around my body and step onto the bath mat. “Dude, I literally live in the villa right next door to you,” Becky says. “Boy, you’re distracted.” “Yeah.” I grab another towel for my hair and walk through the bedroom. “I guess I am.” I flip my hair forward and put it up in the towel to dry. Becky follows me and takes a seat on the chaise lounge at the base of my bed. “So?” “So?” I throw back, though I already know what she wants to ask. “Oh, come on, how’s it going with the, you know, losing-your-virginity deal? Have you managed it yet?” I blush and turn my back to her, walk to the closet where I’ll surely find the perfect dress for tonight, paid for, brand new, and a matching set of shoes. “Uh –”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” “Yes, I have.” I sigh and throw the door open. And true to form, there’s a gorgeous red dress, this time a strappy one with a square cut at the breasts, tapering down to a body con at the bottom. “Good,” she replies. “How many guys?” I drag the dress off the rack and turn to her. “Are you kidding? Just one! I mean, I came to lose my virginity, not lose my mind.” “Oh, come on. It’s fun! You haven’t lived until you’ve had two dicks inside you, one in your mouth and the other in your pussy.” Becky clasps her hands together and sighs. “So good.” “Right,” I say, and slip into the dress, still a little moist from the shower. “It’s not like that for me. I’ve met – I don’t know how to describe him. He’s amazing. He’s not just good at the sex stuff, he emanates this… I don’t know, this power. And when I told him about it being my first time ever, he

went really gentle with me.” “Wow,” Becky says and blinks at me. “That’s great. But, I mean, you do know that’s all for the weekend. After this event, he’s not going to give a fuck about you.” I freeze midway to drying my hair. “Sorry, I hope I’m not bursting your bubble here,” Becky says, and checks her nails. “I just want you to be prepared for the disappointment.” “There’s been no disappointment so far.” What was her deal? I was well aware of the length of the weekend, and that I’ll probably never see Daddy again, but what the hell? Is it necessary to shove it in my face when I’m trying to have a conversation with her about how good things have been for once? “Yeah, I don’t want you to wind up regretting this like you did not fucking Jake.”

“Jake,” I say, and lick my lips. “Jake didn’t deserve my virginity. He cheated.” “Because you wouldn’t fuck,” Becky replies, then shakes her head. “That came out wrong. Like I said, I’m not taking sides.” But she is. This is her side. She was friends with Jake before she was friends with me and it’s clear that in Becky’s twisted mind, she believes I should’ve fucked him merely because he asked for it. “I wasn’t ready back then.” “But you are now? Girl, you don’t even know this dude,” Becky replies. “What the hell? You’re the one who told me to do this in the first place,” I say. Becky presses her lips together, releases them slowly. “Yeah, I did. I just didn’t think you’d jump right into this one guy. If you were going to do that,

you should’ve just let Jake get it.” “Whatever,” I say. “This is crazy. You got me the invitation and now you’re acting weird.” “I just don’t think Jake would approve of your new soulmate. This is just supposed to be a sex thing.” “Jake? Who gives a fuck about what Jake would think!? I’m not his girlfriend anymore. God, you know what? For once in my life I’m actually enjoying myself. I’m feeling things I didn’t think were possible. I –” “Feeling things?!” And just like that, I’ve reached my limit. It’s none of her business what I feel. Friends are supposed to be supportive and this is the opposite of that. “Get out,” I say. “Get out of my space.”

“Heather –” “Now!” I point to the door, and the towel drops from my hair and falls to the floorboard. Becky hesitates, shakes her head at me one last time, then slips off the end of the chaise lounge. “Just – just be careful, Heather. You’re in over your head here.” And then she leaves, trailing her effusive Chanel No. 5 and all the attitude I thought I liked about her. I stare at the open front door, silently cursing myself, the villa, and Becky. But not Daddy, no. If anything, my longing for him has grown stronger. I can’t wait until tonight.

Chapter 10 Nicholas It’s been an hour since I fucked her tight pussy on the beach and I can’t get her off my mind. I’ve got to have more and I’ve got to have it now. Her body is supple, and so right beneath my fingers. I open the front door of my villa and walk barefoot down the path toward the sand of the beach. It’s afternoon, and most of the beachgoers have retired for an afternoon siesta or a private fiesta. I massage my forehead and try put thoughts of

her aside. The connection we have doesn’t make sense. Apart from her vulnerable admission on the beach before her first time, we’ve hardly talked. It’s purely physical or chemical, but still, I want more. I want to know more. This is dangerous territory. I traipse down the beach and toward the cabana, where they’ll serve me whatever the hell I want. All it is, is a soda at this point. Tonight, there’s another party in the main hall but I can’t wait to see her until then. I halt in front of the bar and smile at the mixologist behind it. “Good afternoon, sir,” he says. “What can I get for you?” “A soda,” I reply. “And directions to a woman’s villa.” Christ, I don’t even know her

name. “She’s blonde, tall, tan, and I fucked her on the beach this afternoon.” Timidity wasn’t a thing on Mystique, and I always got to the point. “I think I know who you’re talking about, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t reveal that information. Unless she specifically tells you which villa she’s in and invites you to it, it’s classified. Which soda, sir? A Pepsi?” “Trust me, she wants to see me again,” I reply, but it sounds like bullshit, even to me. That’s likely what other men would say and I’m not like other men. “Pepsi, sir?” the mixologist asks, his tan as flawless as his too-white teeth. A kernel of irritation pops in my chest. Fuck it, I really want to see her again. Now, even if it has to be with this fucking mask on my face. God, how I long to rip hers off and reveal what’s underneath, to know who I’m fucking, and how beautiful she is. A

face to suit the taste and smell of her. I open my mouth to reply but a hand lands on my forearm and I stall, look down, Dainty fingers, nails cut short and clear, which lead to a long elegant hand, a tanned forearm and up to the shoulder I’ve already kissed. It’s my girl. “There you are,” I say, and smile at her. She leads me away from the bar and to one of the tables in front of it. She doesn’t smile. “What’s going on?” I ask, and a flicker of concern dislodges the immediate lust which slid into place at the sight of her. I drag a chair out for her and she sits down. “It’s – nothing. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.” She shakes her head, then presses her fingers to her lips. “No, nothing.”

“Talk to me,” I say, and take her hand. “We’ve shared more than words. It’s time we share those, too.” “I – I had a fight with a friend. She’s the one who convinced me to come here in the first place. She got me the invite because of – well, because I’ve recently gone through a messy break up.” Jealousy flares within me, an instant kick back. “A break up,” I say, and stroke the back of her hand. Her skin is delicate and I picture kissing her fingers, sucking them again. I focus on her words instead. “What happened?” “He cheated on me. I wouldn’t sleep with him and he cheated on me because of it, and Bec – my friend, thinks I’m getting over it too fast or something by sleeping with you.” She leaves those full, kissable lips open for a second, then closes them again. “That makes no sense,” I reply, smoothly.

“She got you an invite to this island but believes you shouldn’t do what you came here to do? Bullshit. Sounds like this friend is an asshole. The ex, too. Any man who cheats is a dog. Why waste time in a relationship if you’re not happy? Why cheat?” Vixen stiffens, her dark eyes widen, then relax. She shrugs her shoulders. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. You know what? I just want to forget about all of this. Daddy, do you want to get out of here? My villa is close.” I study her, fully taking in the red dress, cropped, tight and clinging to her curves for the first time. She’s got on high heels, too, and her tan legs have never looked longer or more appealing. I rise and hold out a hand. “My villa’s closer,” I say. “We can talk more there.”

Chapter 11 Heather Daddy leads me up the path to his villa, between two lines of hedges, which shield it from the beach. It’s private, quiet, and already, my pulse races. We’re alone here and this is as close as we’ve come to actual privacy. What if he wants us to take off our masks? Will I hesitate? Now that it comes down to it, I’m not one hundred percent sure I’ll rip it off and reveal myself to him. What if he doesn’t like the way I look underneath?

Daddy opens the front door of the villa, then steps back for me to enter. I do and gasp at the size of the place. Floor-toceiling windows look out on a wraparound porch and a view of the ocean, shielded only by palm trees here or there. The living room is spacious and the furniture simplistic, white sofas on hardwood floors, cream-colored walls, no TV. “Take a seat,” he says. “Can I get you something to drink?’ I stroll to one of the sofas and lower myself onto it. “I’m not sure. What time is it? The party this evening –” “We don’t have to go to that,” he says, and shuts the front door. He locks it, too, and a thrill chases up my spine. “We don’t.” “No. The only reason I’d go is to see you and

you’re already here.” He walks to the sofa and sits down beside me, places his strong, tan hand on my bare thigh and squeezes, gently. “This afternoon was phenomenal. I’ve never come like that in my life.” I lose my breath. “There’s something about you,” he says. “Something that drives my body wild. It’s new to me.” “Me, too,” I whisper. He’s close enough to taste again, and he slides his hand up my thigh to the hem of my dress. “I can’t think when I’m around you.” He smiles, a slow twist of those lips, the same ones that have tasted and kissed my lips and my pussy. “You don’t need to think about anything,” he says. “Just relax.” His fingers creep beneath my dress and toward my bare skin. I haven’t bothered putting on underwear. I

figured this would happen again, hoped for it, actually. Our masks are still on and I don’t ask to remove them. It’s against the rules, sure, but butterflies bounce around in my stomach. “I loved tasting your cunt,” he says. My breath catches in my chest, and arousal floods me, starts in my solar plexus and radiates outward, washing through me in seconds. “It’s not fair,” I manage. “What?” His fingers reach higher, to the crease between my thigh and the shaven mound awaiting him again. “You’ve had me,” I say, and swallow, work up the courage. “But I haven’t had you.” His bright blue eyes flash, and he releases me, settling back against the sofa cushions. “You can have whatever you want,” he says, and unzips his

pants. He pulls them down and exposes himself. Already hard, but not dripping yet. I can remedy that. I scooch around on the sofa and get on my hands and knees beside him. He watches me, head cocked to one side, his plain white mask disguising the parts of his face I’d love to see. I want to know this man, but I can’t. I’ll settle for tasting him. I grasp his dick and bring myself even closer, bend toward him, sticking my ass in the air. The bottom of my dress creeps up and cold air washes over my pussy lips. Daddy reaches around and spanks me once, twice. “What are you waiting for?” I take him into my mouth and suck gently, use my tongue to circle the ridge around his head.

He growls and I slurp up the first drops of his pre-cum, spread them on my tongue. He tastes good, like clean skin and a little salt. I want more of him, more of that addictive essence. “Wait,” he says, lifting my chin with a finger. I look into his eyes. “Yeah, just like that. Spit in your hand. Work my shaft with it.” I do as I’m told, spit in my hand and slide it up and down the thick length of his cock. It’s better this way. There’s not a chance I’ll get all of it in my mouth. I clamp my lips around his head again and move in time with the beat of my strokes. Daddy grasps a handful of my hair, the other hand rests behind his head. He closes his eyes. I suck hard and pop free, and he jerks a little, bumps the corner of his mask. It slips a little and I continue sucking, watching him, eager for another glimpse of skin. If it comes off, I’ll have a face to remember when I’m back at Columbia.

I go deep this time and gag a little on his dick. He jerks again and this time, the masks slips down and exposes the left half of his face. The closed eye, a strong, sharp nose. My insides turn to ice; recognition stalls my movements. Daddy is… oh, my god. Daddy is Nicholas Bennett. I’m sucking off my ex-boyfriend’s father. The same man I crushed on during my relationship, felt guilty about and shoved out of my thoughts, was the man who’d buried his tongue in my pussy and squirted cum all over it after. “Oh, god,” I say. “Your mask.” He opens those crystal blue eyes and feels for it. Fixes it back in place. “Wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he says, casually. He has no idea who I am. God, what will he do if he finds out? I was his

son’s girlfriend. “What are you doing?” Nicholas asks. Oh my god. Oh my god. “Huh?” “Keep going,” he says, and gestures to his dick. My hand’s still wrapped around it and it’s wet with my spit. Slowly, I move forward again, place my lips around his head and suck. It feels so dirty, so wrong. He’s my ex’s father, and he tastes so fucking good I could cry. Every fantasy I’ve had about him—they were much tamer than the truth of our connection—screams back into my mind. I suck harder, lick and work my tongue around his head, focus on the sensitive spout where the ridges meet. I want to taste my ex’s father’s cum. I want to drink it up.

Nicholas Bennett is the fantasy I’ve harbored for an entire year, and now he’s in my grasp. “Yeah.” He nods. “That’s right.” “Come for me, Daddy,” I say. “I want to taste your cum.” He jerks his head downward and skewers me with a stare. “Not before you come,” he replies, then grips my wrist. We shift around on the sofa, so that he’s lying flat on his back. I crawl onto his body, my mouth at his dick and my dripping pussy just above his face. Nicholas, oh my god, it’s Nicholas. I still can’t reconcile the truth, and I can’t stop either. He’s already claimed me as his and I want it to stay that way. “Sit on my face,” he says, and takes hold of both my ass cheeks. He pulls me toward him and his tongue dances over my clit, collects my

wetness, spreads it over my pussy again. “Fuck, you’re almost there, aren’t you?” “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. He slaps my ass hard, follows it up with a kiss on my pussy lips. “Suck me.” I dive in again and take his throbbing length into my mouth, as much of it as I can fit. We settle into a rhythm, him eating me, slurping and grunting at the taste, and me moaning around his dick. Shocks of pleasure streak through my core, and I work my pussy on his face, back and forth, brushing my lips against his tongue. “That’s right,” he says. “Just like that, naughty girl. You’re mine.” “Oh, god, Daddy,” I hiss. “You like that? You like hearing that?” he asks between sucks and kisses.

I gag on his cock. “Uh-huh,” I manage. His taste is a drug to me now. My jaw aches but I’m loving every second of this. Nicholas Bennett is between my lips. I can’t get over it. “Good. You’re mine. You’re my girl.” I tense up and rock against his face, overwhelmed by the urge to break into pieces. “Keep sucking,” he commands. And I do, suck and lick, drag out more pleasure from him, even as I crest the rise to my climax. I’m going to come harder than I have before, simply because it’s him. My orgasm awakens every inch of me. Every cell is electrified by the white-hot purity pulsing in my core. I cry out but bite my lip to keep from screaming out his real name and giving the game away. His dick thickens between my lips. I work his

shaft even as I spasm against him, and I’m rewarded by the first spurt of his cum. It hits the back of my throat and I drink it up. A second, a third, a fourth, he jams into my mouth, growling low, lips against my clit. I take everything he has to offer, every drop. And after it’s all down, I crawl forward off his body, and sit down neatly on the sofa. The realization hits home again, but this time it’s without the hot sex to distract me from the truth. I’ve just fucked and sucked my ex-boyfriend’s father.

Chapter 12 Heather Nicholas walks beside me, his bare feet whispering along the sand, and his arm around my shoulders. The sun sets on the horizon, as we move between the villas, toward my own personal place. “Tomorrow’s the last day,” he says, softly, and kisses my shoulder, right beside the red spaghetti strap that hold my dress up. “I know,” I say. Tomorrow, one whole day and night with the man I can never have, and then it’s all over, folks. I’m not sure I can work up the

courage to see him again, or rather, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist. He’s been my dream since I ran into him in the hall. Since I Google stalked him a year ago. God, how pathetic am I? “Are you all right?” He stalls and drags me around to look at him, hidden behind the mask, now. “You’ve been quiet since we left the villa.” “I’m fine,” I say. “Just hungry and tired.” “Let’s have dinner down at the beach,” he says and brushes my hair from my neck. “Candles, wine, the wash of ocean against the sand.” “No,” I say. “No, thank you. I’m super tired. I’d like to get a little sleep. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” We’re only a few feet from the front of my villa. “As you wish,” he says, and leans in for a kiss.

He still tastes like me, and it makes it that much harder to walk away. I want to be his for real. I want him to know who I am. but I’m equally terrified and guilty. This is wrong on so many levels. Nicholas parts my lips and massages my tongue with his, deepening the kiss. I cling to him; my knees give way and he catches me. “Oh, sorry to interrupt,” a voice squeaks behind us. The usual unctuous tones from Becky are marred by a high pitch. I separate from Nicholas and look over at her. “Hi,” I say, and my heart plummets. What will she say about this? We fought, sure, but she’s still my friend, and we’ll need to get past it, fast, because god knows I need some advice right now. “Hi,” Becky replies and adjusts her mask a little. “Are you busy?” Her gaze darts to Nicholas

and back to me again. “We need to talk.” “I think we do,” I say. I squeeze Nicholas’ hand. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” “The morning.” He nods but sweeps me into another tight embrace. “Assuming I can wait that long,” he breathes, into my ear. Goosebumps chase down the back of my neck and I shiver, automatically. I kiss his jaw – it’s the only bit of skin on his face I can access – and fight off a fresh wave of guilt. It feels perfect, like it was meant to be. Finally, I step away from him and move toward the entrance to my villa. I glance back and he stands there, hands in his pockets, watching me. Becky falls in beside me. “So that’s the mystery man, eh?” I remain quiet. If I talk now, it will all come tumbling out before I can figure a way to word it

right. Ugh, not that there’s any manner in which to word this right. “I’m sorry, Heather,” she says, softly, but I still look over my shoulder to make sure he hasn’t heard. Nicholas is gone. The spot where he’d stood is empty and all I’m greeted by is a view of the ocean in the distance, reflecting glimmers of orange. “Let’s talk inside,” I say and open the front door of my villa. We enter and I click on the lights, nerves building by the second. She’s going to think you’re crazy. Why do I even care what she thinks? She’s the one who suggested this trip, and the one who insulted me because I took advantage of the opportunity she offered. I shut the door and walk through to the tiny kitchenette at the opposite end of the room.

“Water?” I pour myself a glass. “No, I’m good,” Becky says, and removes her mask. “These things are way too hot after a while.” She gestures with it, then tosses it on the coffee table. “I can’t stand this for much longer. Like, the experience is amazing but the heat is too much. I just want to rip my mask off and be free.” I down the water and set the glass down on the counter. “Heather, I’ll apologize again,” she says. “I know I freaked out earlier but it was only because I care about you. I guess, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt and I feel a certain amount of responsibility for the fact that you’re here and that you lost your virginity here. I wanted this to be fun for both of us, but I’m also afraid you’ll end up regretting it.” God, shots fired. Regret swirls through me as we speak, after all. Regret and desire – like it or not, I still want Nicholas.

“I found out something,” I say. “I found out something that’s changed things a little.” “What is it?” Becky frowns and scooches to the edge of her seat. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. I guess, I’m fine. Actually, no, I’m not. This is serious. It’s bad, and I don’t know quite how to handle it.” “What’s up?” “I slept with Jake’s dad,” I say. Becky’s eyes almost pop out of her skull. She stares at me as if I’ve lost my damn mind. I finally pull off my mask and toss it aside, wipe sweat from my cheeks. “His mask slipped off while we were in the act.” “Oh,” Becky says, and she relaxes back against the cushions. “Oh, okay. It was accidental. That’s not your fault. How were you supposed to

know that it was him? How could anyone have known?” I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth. I knew it was him and I continued anyway. “As long as you don’t see him again, it’s fine,” Becky says. I shake my head. “I have to see him again. Tomorrow. He asked me to meet him. It’s – it’s the last day, Becky.” “So?! Are you kidding? Like, I know we’ve just made up again but if you’re going to be irrational, I can’t help you. This is Jake’s dad. Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?” Becky folds her arms and glares at me. “Dude, of course I know how fucked up it is, but it’s not like I planned it. Besides, I can’t stop now. He doesn’t know who I am. If I blow him off, it will look weird,” I say.

“So? There’s nothing he can do about it.” I chew on the words I’m about to spit out. “And maybe I don’t want it to end like this. Maybe I actually like him.” “Like him?! He’s your ex’s dad. And you know how much Jake’s father cares about him. He talks about it all the time. His single dad who gave him the world and will do anything for him. Do you really think you can come between them? Jake will be humiliated.” Humiliated, not crushed. “Jake cheated on me!” I snap. “He didn’t really give a fuck about me or he’d have broken up with me before diving into someone else’s bed.” “That doesn’t justify this,” Becky replies, evenly. She’s red-faced and ready to explode – I’ve lived with her long enough to identify the clues. “I can’t – I’m not going to fight with you again. But I can’t talk about this with you. It’s sick.”

“It’s not sick,” I whisper. That actually hurts. Thinking that what I’ve shared with Nicholas is sick is physically painful. He’s my first. The first man I’ve slept with and the first man I’ve connected with in this way. Becky rises from the sofa, arms still folded. “I’m going to go. We’ll talk about this when it’s over. When you’ve come to your senses.” “I don’t need to come to my senses. I know what I want,” I say, and the truth of it strikes at my heart. “I want Nicholas.” Perhaps, a part of me has always wanted him, since that first run-in in the hallway outside Jake’s room. “I know it’s not exactly orthodox, but I don’t care.” Becky massages frown lines on her forehead. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.” My roommate walks out and slams the door shut behind her, and I’m along again. Alone with nothing but the mask for company, and thoughts of

how I’ll handle tomorrow. My last day with Nicholas.

Chapter 13 Nicholas I sit up in bed and stare out of the window. The view, waves and palm trees, white sands and the rising sun over the ocean, does nothing to assuage my need for her. I’ve barely shaken off the sleep, and already I’ve got my mystery girl front of mind. Today is our last day together. I can’t accept this. I don’t care about what’s under the mask, anymore, only that I have to see her again after this weekend.

The sex isn’t just amazing, it’s mind blowing. It’s changed my fucking life. I’ve never connected with a woman on that level. It’s almost cellular. Every nerve-ending screams for her, demands I get up and find my fix. My cell phone buzzes on the bedside table and I pick it up. Jake’s name flashes on the screen. No doubt, he has more complaints about his nine to five, more suggestions about how I can better handle this situation. I put the phone down and ignore the call. Today, I have a mission. I rise from the bed and walk to the dresser, but a knock sounds at the front door of the villa and I change course. I snatch up my mask on the way, fixing it to my face as per the rules. I’ve got nothing on but a pair of boxers, and my muscles ripple with every step. I unlock the front door, and a slow smile spreads my lips. “It’s

early.” “I had to see you,” Vixen says. “May I come in?” She wears a silken robe, and the outline of a lace bra presses against it, drawing my gaze and my lust. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips naturally red. I’ll suck on them again, as soon as she’s inside. “Of course,” I say, and take her wrist. I guide her into the living room, through the door and into my bedroom. I sit her on the edge of the mattress. “Are you all right?” “Fine,” she says, but it’s no more than a murmur of sound. She’s not fine. “What’s bothering you? I missed you last night. I had to order room service,” I say, then catch myself from going further. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted a woman to eat with me. “Nothing,” she says. “Nothing’s bothering me.

I just wanted to see you again, Daddy. I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know if this is normal.” “To want me?” “It’s more than just that,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Forget I said anything. I’m being an idiot.” “No! No, you’re not,” I reply. “I’ve thought about it, too. And, yeah, I feel what you do. I want to see you again after this weekend.” She freezes and stays that way, still on the edge of that bed, her silk robe slipping now, a revealing the slopes of her breasts, cleavage, the rim of her black and red lace bra. “I think it’s time we take off these masks,” I say and reach for hers. She catches my arm and struggles backward. “Not yet. I’m not ready yet. Maybe tomorrow, before we leave. Just – let’s have one last night

together with the masks on. One last day, I mean. It’s morning – I – please?” Suspicion unfolds, and I tilt my head to the side. “Why?” She blinks up at me, then gets up and walks to the floor-to-ceiling window, shaded by drapes, now. She drags them open, then turns to me and drops the silken robe, exposing the tan expanses of flesh, those shapely legs and her tiny bra and panties, also lace and two-toned. “Because, Daddy,” she says. “I’m wearing crotchless panties and I want you to fuck me in front of this window where everyone can see.” And indeed, there are people out there, walking back and forth in the distance along the path that leads between the villas. They’ll likely only catch a glimpse of her top half, and the mask when we’re busy. The suspicion remains, but the suggestion is

too appetizing to deny, and I’m already filling out the front of my boxers. If this is how she want to start our day, it’s fine by me. The masks can wait until we’re done. But I will see her today. All of her. I have to. I won’t let this weekend end without a promise of more from her.

Chapter 14 Heather I stand in front of the window, my breasts cradled by the balcony bra, my nipples peeking out above the hem. I want this, yes, I want to feel him inside me again, one last time before I leave Mystique Island and never see him again. I reach up and slide the bra straps from my shoulders, then unclip it and drop it to the floor. My tan lines leave white triangles over my nipples, both pink and erect now. It’s got nothing to do with the chill in his villa, and everything to do with the growing heat between my legs.

Nicholas walks toward me, confidence in the set of his broad shoulders, the lift of his chin. He’ll take me again, and I’ll regret it later. Jake’s father? Christ, can I really do this? Fuck Jake. He didn’t really give a shit about you. It wasn’t just the virginity that bothered him. He tried to change everything about you, from the way you talk to the way you dress. Nicholas stops in front of me and looks down at my breasts. He doesn’t have to touch me, just breathe and watch, and I’m on the brink of melting into a puddle at his feet. His breath is feather light, brushes my skin. “Crotchless panties,” he says. “Yes.” I found them in my closet earlier and I couldn’t resist. If this will be the last time we’re together, I want it to be good. No, I want it to be mind-blowing.

Nicholas runs a finger down my stomach, dips it into my belly button, then takes it down further. He snags it into the waistline of my panties, tugs once, then smiles. “Interesting,” he says, and slips his touch lower, lower, until it slips over the crest and into the slit which opens up to my pussy lips. “Fuck,” he says, and collects the moisture between my lips, spreads it over them and up to my clit. “You’re so wet already.” “Uh-huh,” I say, and jerk at his touch. Guilt swells in my chest, but I tamp down on it, force it out of there. I have to enjoy this moment with him. It will be the last one I get because, like it or not, what I’m feeling for him is forbidden. It will never work out between us. From what I’ve heard, Nicholas is a good guy, and Jake happens to have him in the palm of his hand. One ill word and I’ll be out the door… fuck it, out the window.

Nicholas inserts two fingers into my pussy and brings me back into focus. “Where are you? You’re not here with me. Who are you thinking about?” “No one but you,” I whisper, and suck in the last of the sentence as he plunges his fingers deeper still. He brushes against my g-spot and I shudder. “Oh, god.” “Fuck it,” Nicholas says, and pulls out of me. He strips off his boxers and frees his dick, then slams me against the window, so that my ass is pressed to it. He lifts one of my legs and hooks it around his body, grabs both my ass cheeks and angles me toward him. I arch my back and stare at him from behind my mask. All that matters is us, and this moment, but I still can’t shake my guilt. He presses his fat head into my pussy, widening me again, for the fourth time in two days, and spears me on his length. He fills me completely,

and spines of pleasure pierce and shatter any hint of hesitation from my end. “Oh, god,” I say. “I want to see you again after this weekend,” Nicholas growls, and doesn’t move, just holds me there, against the window, as people walk by in the background. The glass warms rapidly under my skin. “Daddy, please, just fuck me. I need you.” “I need you, too,” he says and draws his cock out to the tip, then rams it into my cunt again, all the way to the hilt. “I need this pussy wrapped around me at least once a day, every day from now on.” I hold back a gasp but shiver – it’s the pleasure and the fantasy that this could be true. “Every day?” “Fuck yes,” he says, and draws himself out

again, pushes back in. “Every fucking day. Christ, you’re hot.” He means my core, the very part of me that he’s penetrating, right now. “And you’re mine.” “Yes,” I say. “I promise.” But I promise for the weekend, not for the foreseeable future. He grunts and takes it as acquiescence – he thinks I’ll be with him after this. He holds me upright and pounds into me, slamming us both against the window again and again. It creaks, but neither of us can stop. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my breasts outward, toward him. He bends and tries to suck my nipple but it sets us off kilter. We stumble, we fall sideways and he catches the desk, keeps us upright. “Come,” he says and slips out of me. He bends, scoops me up in his arms, one behind my knees, the other at my back, and carries me to the

bed. I’m a bundle of raw nerve-endings. My pussy throbs, swollen, dripping for him. “Hurry,” I hiss. “Hurry, Daddy, please.” Nicholas throws me onto the bed, then crawls up my body, much the same way he did on the night I lost my virginity. He braces himself either side of me and stares into my eyes, uses one hand to tease me with the head of his dick. He runs it between my lips and up to my clit again and again. “Daddy!” Nicholas laughs, a throaty chuckle that vibrates through my chest. Slowly, he enters me, slipping in with ease now, throbbing intermittently. My eyes roll back in my head. I want nothing more than for him to fill me up again. Each time he comes inside me, it’s like I’m his. I’m claimed by

him, and I love that. I love the feeling of belonging to this overbearing, delicious man. “Look at me,” he says. I focus on him again, search those blue orbs. He thrusts into me, one deep movement, and I hold his gaze. We’re locked in on each other. Every movement brings another gasp from me, and he watches. He watches my every breath and shudder. His thrusts become more desperate. He grazes my g-spot and I cry out. “Don’t look away,” Nicholas says. “Don’t look away.” I keep my gaze glued on the front of his white mask, the eyes peering from them, the fine shade of stubble along his jaw, and those lips. Those lips are open slightly, he’s slack, caught in this moment of vulnerability.

The start of his orgasm swells his cock larger and brings on my own climax. It’s not the same as the others I’ve had before; it’s brought on solely by his presence inside me, his girth, and the expression in his eyes. They burn for me. Nicholas pounds into me hard, and throbs, releases in three long thrusts, still holding my focus, still watching me, his jaw dropped now, breaths bathing my face. I clench around him and rock through my orgasm, my legs and arms wrapped around him. And then it’s over. He lowers his body and rests his forehead against mine, leaves his dick inside me, pulsing through the aftershocks of our lovemaking. “I don’t want this to end,” I say – the admission slips out.

“It doesn’t have to.”

Chapter 15 Nicholas I pull out of her, my girl, and roll onto my back, lift my arms above my head. It’s morning, and we’ve got the whole day ahead of us. I can’t wait to spend it with her, eating, talking, fucking, getting to know her better. Hopefully, by the end of it, she’ll be ready to take off that mask and show me who she is. “That was amazing,” she whispers and drags her fingers down her body, to her now moist panties.

“We should order some food,” I say. “Have something to eat, then go for a walk on the beach. There’s surfing classes, I hear.” “Oh?” She lifts herself onto her elbows. “How will that work with the masks?” “I haven’t looked into it.” But it might be an opportunity to get her out of hers, maybe even get her naked in the salty water. “Who cares about the masks? The sooner they’re off the better.” “I don’t know. I think they’re kind of fun.” She sits up, slides off the bed, and collects her bra. She clips it on, then slips into the silk gown she wore at the door. I frown. “You don’t have to do that. No one’s coming in here without my permission.” My phone buzzes on the bedside table and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I should never have turned it on yesterday but the draw to do business keeps tugging at me. “Shit,” I mutter, and check the caller ID.

Jake again. “You can take it,” she says. “I’ll let myself out.” “What? You’re not going anywhere.” But Jake had called twice this morning and that warranted a response. “Stick around, gorgeous. This won’t take long.” I lift the cell, swipe my thumb across the screen, then press the phone to my ear. “Jake,” I say. Vixen stops tying her robe and doesn’t move a muscle. I smile at her, but she’s gone pale. “Dad,” Jake says, and he doesn’t sound whiny. His voice bubbles with emotion. With anger. “Dad, what the fuck are you doing?!” “What are you talking about, kid?” “You fucked my ex-girlfriend!” Jake yelled.

“Dad, what the fuck were you thinking?” “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you smoke dope again?” A habit I’d hoped I’d rid him of. “I’m nowhere near your girlfriend.” But I still have the memory of meeting her. Heather Henderson – we were introduced in the hallway outside his room. She’d had long blonde hair, the softest expression in her eyes, and she’d smelled gorgeous, floral and gentle. Sweet. The instant attraction had overwhelmed me at the time, but I’d brushed past it. “Then how come my friend Becky just called me and told me you fucked her?” Jake asks. “Wait, she’s your ex? I thought you were still dating.” “I broke up with her because she wouldn’t fuck me. Guess I was wrong to do it,” he replies. “Sounds like she’s a little whore now.”

I blink at the harsh words from my son. When did he become a jackass? “You’re mistaken. I’m on an island retreat.” “She’s there, too. Mystique Island. Becky told me everything.” My stomach drops. I look up at Vixen, at her blond hair. That floral scent that is so familiar to me bursts through my denial. “Jake,” I say, “I’ll have to call you back.” “Dad!” I hang up and drop the phone on the bed. She’s on the other side of it, staring at me, her hands wrapped in her silken robe, holding it closed. She’s folding in on herself, backing away. “That was Jake,” I say. “Oh,” she whispers. “Is it you, Heather?”

She hovers on the spot, shakes her head, then nods, swallows. “I –” But she cuts off and darts for the door. I chase after her, heart pounding, a sick lurch in my stomach driving me to catch her before it’s too late. “Wait!” My girl—she was my girl—rushes out of the villa. The door slams behind her and I’m left staring after her, caught between my only son and the feelings that I haven’t felt since I lost his mother.

Chapter 16 Heather I run as fast as my legs can carry me, the mask still on and tears squeezing between it and my cheeks. God, he knows. How does he know? How the hell does Jake know? Guilt sears me, forces me onward. I trip over my bare feet and my robe bursts open. I scramble it closed again and race toward my villa. It’s not too far from Nicholas’, and that in itself brings another surge of guilt. You should’ve told him. Or you should’ve refused to see him.

But both options don’t sit right with me, and it’s too late to worry about them now. Nicholas knows who I am and he’s probably mad as hell that I haven’t told him the truth. I finally reach the villa and crash into the door. I open it and rush inside, slam into the wall and rest my forehead against it, breathing hard. This is it. This is rock bottom. No, this is lower than that. I’m buried beneath the rock, struggling for air. He’ll never speak to me again, and Jake will spread rumors about this at Columbia. Everyone’s going to think I’m a crazy slut. But how does he know? I can’t work that part out and it swirls through my brain, followed by the shock in Nicholas’ eyes. “I told you to stay away from him.” I look up and swallow more of that bitter shame.

Becky stands in the doorway, her fists on her hips. She’s red from the line of her hair, down to her pale chest, exposed by a bikini. Her mask is off, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re a fucking idiot, Heather. I told you to stay away from him and you refused. I had no choice.” “You told Jake.” It hits me right between the eyes, a bolt from the blue. “Why would you do that? We’re friends!” “We were friends until you went and broke the rules. I wanted you to have fun here, Heather, but you took things too far. You’re so self-involved you can’t even see what you’re doing here.” “I’m not doing anything.” I ball my hands into fists but it does nothing to quell the shaking. “All you had to do was stick to the rules. Just lose your damn virginity, have fun, not get involved with Jake’s father, for fuck’s sake!” “Why would you tell him, Becky?” I ask

again, because she still hasn’t answered the question. Her face contorts into a picture of rage, her lips peel back, her eyes narrow to slits. “Because you have everything,” she spits. “Everyone loves perfect little virginal Heather. Heather the Astudent on her scholarship. Heather who landed Jake. Did you know I saw him first? I did!” “What?” I reel and catch myself on the wall. “Are you serious?” “Yes, I’m serious. And I would have satisfied Jake,” Becky continues, pressing a palm to her chest. “Unlike you. But he chose you over me, regardless. And now you’re with his dad! What are you going to be, his stepmom? Agh!” “I’ll be whatever I want to be,” I say. “You’re certifiable. If you want Jake, take him. I don’t love him anymore, and god knows, he treated me like dirt. You two deserve each other.”

Becky trembles with fury. “And take your shitty seconds? No thanks. I’ve spent too long in your shadow, Heather.” “You don’t make any sense,” I whisper. None of this makes sense to me. If she likes him so much, she should take him. And why hasn’t she told me any of this before? “I don’t understand why you’ve done this. I’ve never tried to make you less than me or to make you feel that way.” “Then why did you do it?” Becky asks. “You showed me up in every single situation. And don’t tell me you didn’t do it on purpose. I know when you’re lying.” “I didn’t!” I yell, then suck in a breath to calm myself. This is bullshit. Becky’s ruined everything and I’m just entertaining her massive ego. “You did,” she replies. “You’re not a true friend. I can’t believe I wasted my time with you.” “Get out,” I say. “Get out of my villa. I don’t

want to speak to you again.” “Fine by me, bitch.” Becky throws up a hand, then turns on her heel and stomps from the room. She leaves the door open behind her. I sink to the floor, my back still pressed against the wall. I hate this. I hate every moment of what’s happened over the past half hour and there’s not a damn thing I can do to change it. I get up, slowly, haltingly, and walk over to my bedside table. I open the drawer and bring out my cell phone. I have no missed calls. Not one. Jake cares enough to yell at his father but not at me. Maybe if I tell him to back off, I can fix this. No, that’s impossible. Nicholas loves his son, he respects him, even though Jake is a total dick, and he’ll never get involved with me, now that he knows who I am. Tomorrow’s the day I leave Mystique. I don’t have much to pack – the island provided almost

everything for me – but I toss the cell, the sunblock I brought, and my contraceptive pills into my handbag. I rush to my closet and rip open the doors, search for the clothes I wore on the plane over here – a simple cotton dress and flip flops, then change. In minutes, I’m ready to leave, but I’ve still got nowhere to go. There’s an entire afternoon of regret ahead of me, and an evening of shame after that. My energy drains, and finally, I sit down on the chaise lounge in front of my bed and give up. This is over. There’s nothing I can do to change that.

Chapter 17 Nicholas I stand in the doorway and stare after her, but she’s gone already. Heather Henderson. My son’s ex-girlfriend, and I’ve spent the last two days fucking her brains out. I pace back to the living room and sit down on the sofa, still naked. I can’t work out what to do about this. I rip the mask off my face and toss it across the room.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Fuck!” This is a mess. My phone buzzes from the bedroom but I don’t need to pick it up to know who’s calling. If I answer now, Jake’s anger will ultimately make me say something I regret. What had Heather told me? Down on the beach yesterday, she’d revealed that her exboyfriend cheated on her because she wouldn’t put out. My son cheated on her and possibly broke her heart for something as shallow as sex. Sure, he’s young, but when did he become an asshole? I grit my teeth and run my fingers through my hair. I can’t let this happen. Whether Jake likes it or not, I’m not going to give up on this girl. She’s young, she’s beautiful, and she’s intelligent. From what Jake revealed, she gets better grades than him at Columbia.

If I let her go, I’ll never see her again. My son will have to deal with the fact that I want her, that she’s mine, now. After all, I spent my life building a business for him, only to have him fritter away money and act like he doesn’t give a shit about what I’ve set up. I rise from the sofa and walk through to the bedroom at last, spare a glance for my cell, then move to the closet and open it. Inside are the suits, shirts, jeans, and shoes I picked out for this weekend. I put on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans, then spritz on some Armani. I’m not giving up on this, and to hell with Jake and his expectations. The pressure of business and loneliness has weighed on me for too long. I stride out into the living room, then out the front door. Laughter and the sounds of sex, moans, grunts, emanate from everywhere on this island.

Couples caught in the throes of passion, two people in the sand just ahead, a woman atop a man, her tits bronzed by the morning sunlight. I ignore it all and march around the side of the villa, kicking up fountains of white sand. The door to her place is open and I walk up to it, then step inside. She’s on the sofa, her head bowed. “Heather,” I say. She snaps upright and inhales. “Nicholas,” she says. I walk up to her, help her from the chaise lounge in front of her bed. We stand facing each other, our breaths mingling again, her chest pressed to mine. And there she is.

Her cheeks wet but rosy. A heart-shaped face, lips full, succulent, and the cute button nose I’ve longed to see these past two days. I run a finger down her jaw and smile at her. “There you are,” I say. “Here I am,” she replies, casting her gaze downward, refusing to meet mine. I pinch her chin in two fingers and force her attention onto me. “You’re beautiful.” “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should’ve told you when your mask slipped off but I couldn’t. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to be with me again, and I was in too deep. I – I’ve loved every minute of this weekend with you.” A cold breeze gusts through the open door behind us and dances across my skin, raising the hairs on her arms. “You’re cold,” I say.

I release her and walk to the door, shut it, lock it. “What are you doing?” she asks. “You should be leaving. We’ve done the worst thing imaginable. What will Jake say?” Heather’s so fragile, she’s gripping her arms and shivering. What can I do to make her realize what she means to me? What this entire weekend has meant to me? “I haven’t been with anyone in a long time,” I say. “The only time I meet women is here, and it never lasts long.” She nods. “I understand.” “No, Heather, you don’t. This is something special. It’s different to what I’ve had before, and I’m sure as fuck not going to let my sloppy son get between us.” “But –”

“He hurt you,” I say, and anger burns a hole through my chest. God damn, I raised him better than this! “He made you feel less than what you were and you came here.” “Yes.” “And met me. That’s some kind of fate,” I say. “I’d like to see where this goes.” Heather trembles and wriggles that adorable button nose. Christ, I’ve missed so much of her. Now, I’ll be able to watch her facial expressions in full, to watch her as she comes. That’s all I want right now. I want to show her she’s mine. I take her by the hand and lead her around the chaise lounge to her bed. “Come here,” I say. I remove her sundress first and let it fall to the floor.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispers. “Haven’t you been listening? We should.” I unhook her bra and let it fall next. Lastly, I hook my thumbs into her panties and pull them down over her thighs and right down to the floor. I kiss her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee, her thigh, the crest of her pussy, her lower abdomen, then stand up. Heather sways on the spot, liquid brown eyes hazy with desire, which curls through me even now. “Nicholas,” she whispers.

Chapter 18 Heather Nicholas is in front of me, larger than life, without his mask and me without mine, and I won’t turn away now. He wants me, still. Even though we’ve embroiled ourselves in this weird affair, he still wants more. I do, too. “Heather,” he says. The sound of my name on his lips sends shivers through me. It’s so forbidden, but at the

same time, it’s not. He believes it’s not, and I don’t want to argue with him and convince him otherwise. I want to enjoy this. This is the first man I’ve ever been with and he just happens to be the best man, the sexiest, and the father to my dirt bag ex. Nicholas strips off his shirt and drops it beside my clothes. He undoes the top button of his jeans, zips them down, then removes them. I can’t help staring at his face. At every feature, drinking in the slight kink in his nose, the sight of his blue eyes, watching me, and the shape of his cheekbones, high, well-defined. After two days of dreaming about the face beneath the mask, this is my reward. I brim with desire. My heart pounds out a beat against the inside of my ribcage, nerves tickle my insides.

“I told you, you’re mine,” he says. I’m seriously

seconds from legitimately

swooning for this man. Nicholas wraps his arms around me and draws me close. His dick presses against my abdomen, and I clench tight for him. We’re truly naked with each other now. No barriers, no misconstrued information. I’m Heather and he’s Nicholas, and we both want this. I inhale the scent of his cologne, and the skin beneath it, then close my eyes. I’ll savor this moment, the truth for as long as we’re together. If we’re together. Don’t dwell on that now, for god’s sake. Nicholas cups my cheeks in both hands, brings us closer to each other, then places his lips on mine.

The kiss is deep, everything I’ve felt over the past two days rolled up into one experience. His tongue teases mine, then massages, then probes deep. His fingers creep up to the nape of my neck and he grasps a fistful of hair. I lean into him, breathe in through my nose, heart fluttering. Nicholas slides his hands down, over my shoulders, smoothing the skin there. He breaks the kiss, then bends and takes one of my nipples in his mouth and suckles on it, nibbles it, gently. I snag fistfuls of his hair and tug on it, pleasure bubbling through me at his touch. My skin prickles; I sway again. My knees buckle, and he catches me. “Here,” he says, and lifts me onto the bed. It’s been a long day, and all the pressure and tension has built up to this point. I lie back and

watch him. Nicholas slides between my legs, parts my thighs and blows on my pussy, gently. The cool air gives me a rush, and I squirm. He rewards me with a grin, then takes one long lick from my slick entrance all the way to my clitoris. The squirming turns into a kick of my legs. He pins them down and continues, sucking and eating, making appreciative noises between my legs. I toss my arms over my head and grab the pillow, squeezing it tight. “Nicholas,” I moan. “Oh, it’s so good.” “Good,” he says, between licks. “I’m going to make you come again, Heather.” My name from that mouth. I tremble against him, open my legs wider, and accept the sweet ecstasy that starts on his tongue and travels through

my center. Shots of it. I’m so close, but I can’t come yet. “Fuck me,” I breathe, and the words come out rushed, almost pained. “Please, Nicholas. I need you inside me, right now. I can’t take a second more.” He immediately stops and shimmies up my body, planting kisses at strategic spots, open mouthed and moist: my inner thigh, my stomach, my left breast, my collarbone. Nicholas sucks on my neck, and I slap my hands to his back, feel the taut muscles beneath my fingertips. “Please,” I whisper. The heat blinds me, I’m trapped in the moment, and I need the release only his cock can provide. Nicholas presses his dick inside me and groans. “Oh god, fuck. I love that tight, wet cunt. You’re so fucking tasty.”

I crane my neck and lick my own juices off his lips, off his chin. “Deeper.” He presses the shaft into me, buries himself to the hilt as he has before. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, and pulls out again, all the way. He rams into me again and again, then pulls out and turns me onto my side. “Where are you going?” “Right here,” he says and slips in behind me. He enters me from the side, lifts my leg a little, and kisses my neck, more of the soft, wet kisses that take me higher. “Finger yourself.” I do as I’m told. My finger circles my clit and I twitch against him. Nicholas ups the pace, grabs the back of my neck and forces me to bend double. He pounds into me, again and again, rocking my entire body. My tits bounce, my finger is caught between my legs, but it’s good enough.

I approach the crest again, scream toward it. “Nicholas,” I whisper. “I’m going to – I’m –” The orgasm shatters what I wanted to say, obliterates it from my mind. There’s nothing but his dick inside me, still thrusting, harder and thicker than ever, splitting me almost, and my pussy clenching down on him. A series of thoughts race through my mind, him on top of me without the mask, his body, so hot and muscular, dripping sweat, his lips seeking my flesh. I shudder through my climax. His begins. He digs his fingers into the back of my neck, jams into my pussy, pressing himself deep. He quits moving and simply throbs inside me, emptying himself. A slow tingle spreads over my skin, the satisfaction of having spent this moment with him, and it being real, just us together. Nicholas grunts and drags me back into his

arms again, peppers the side of my face with kisses. “This is it,” he says. “What?” I ask, and lay on the pillows, halfasleep after the orgasm. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

Chapter 19 Nicholas I check my watch – a Breitling – and raise an eyebrow, perching on the edge of my vast walnut desk in the office. “He’s late, as usual.” Heather stands beside me, not leaning against the desk, but with her arms folded across her chest. She wears the silk blouse I bought for her, and a pencil skirt clinging to her curves. She’s gorgeous but the nerves have silenced her. I hate the fact that my son can bring silence to her, even though it’s been a month since we

returned from Mystique Island. A month of pure pleasure with each other, and the absolute joy of watching her flourish, watching her study and enjoy her life with me. “I don’t understand why we have to do this,” she says, and clears her throat. “He already knows we’re an item. This just feels like we’re throwing it in his face. He cheated on me but I don’t want him to suffer.” “Jake won’t suffer from this,” I say. “And this is a necessary evil. I need to do this in order to do the next thing on my list.” “What’s after this?” Heather asks, and her bottom lip trembles. I’ve already taken her over the desk, spread those ass cheeks and injected that hot cunt full of cum, right here, but I’ll never be able to get enough of this woman. I force myself to break eye contact. I don’t need the boner, now. “You’ll see,” I say.

A knock sounds at the door, three sharps raps, not in the least bit timid. “Come in,” I say. This is the first time my son has deigned to meet me in the month since my return. I’m not nervous for shit. Jake opens the office door and storms inside. He looks like his mother when he’s angry. His mother who left me with all the responsibility and a broken heart. He halts and runs his hand over his short, blond hair. He glares at Heather. “What the fuck? What’s she doing here?” “She’s here because she’s with me,” I say. “We’re a couple now.” Heather inhales. It’s something I haven’t brought up with her yet. I simply assumed she understood that by how much time we spend

together. “This is some kind of sick joke,” Jake says. “Dad, I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe it.” “It’s not about you, son,” I say, firmly. “That’s a concept you seem loathe to grasp. None of this is about you. The world does not revolve around Jake Bennett. Heather is my partner, now, and you’re going to have to deal with that. Perhaps, if you’d treated her as you should have, this wouldn’t have happened.” Jake’s mouth flaps open and closed. “I know what happened between you two, Jake. I have to say I’m disappointed. I didn’t raise you to behave that way.” “That’s rich coming from you,” he spits. “Silence.” I drag my hand through the air and he obeys, instantly. “I’ve called you here today,

simply to tell you the score. Heather is my partner and there will be no more handouts from me. If you fail another course, I won’t pay for your tuition this year. Is that understood?” Jake vibrates in place. He’s beyond pissed but he’s brought this upon himself. “I’ve let you get away with too much, it seems. From now on, you’ll work to earn as much of your tuition as possible. I’ll pay the rest, but at the end of your college career, you will pay me back as you would a bank.” His eyes widen. “B-but –” “That’s all,” I say. “You – I – I’m not going to –” The words don’t quite make it across the room. He takes a single step back, shakes his head, glances first at Heather, then fixes his gaze on me. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. You’ll leave now. I have a prior appointment.” Jake hesitates, and for a minute, my resolve melts. I’ve loved this kid since the day I first held him in my arms, but I’ve been too soft on him and his recent dickish behavior is a result of that. Finally, he nods and leaves the room. He shuts the office door behind himself, quietly. Heather lets out a sigh. “Oh, god, that was horrible.” “Don’t feel bad for him. It’s a lesson he has to learn,” I say, and take her into my arms, pressing my fingers to her lips. I kiss her, a soft peck, rather than the makeout session that started our little naughty spree on the desk earlier. “Now, to the next thing on my list.” “What is it?”

“I’ve got news. I bought a villa on Mystique Island. It’s on the strictly non-party section of the place. Same white sand beaches, turquoise ocean, without all the fucking in plain sight.” Her face lights up. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you.” “So happy for us,” I reply. “I want you to move in with me there. You can study long distance, if necessary. I’ll spare no expense in helping you achieve your goals, Heather.” “But –” “Don’t say you can’t accept it. I won’t take no for an answer.” I kiss her again, this time deeper, drawing a long moan from her throat. “I told you in the beginning, gorgeous. You’re mine.” She hesitates, then a smile parts those luscious, blow job lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

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Craving More Kira? Delivering Her Secret Secret Daddy Surprise Package Untouchable First Love Second Chance Last Chance Throttle She’s Mine

Play Thing Beauty and the Billionaire Faking For Her One Hot Daddy Owned by the Billionaire Untamed Billionaire’s Protest Box Set Billionaire Bad Boys Box Set

About the Author All I’ve ever wanted to do for years is write my own books. I spent an ungodly amount of time ghostwriting a few bestsellers for other authors before realizing it was time to start taking credit for my own work. My personal struggles in life, love, and money have driven me to start doing what I love most: Writing full time. I started writing when I was a teenager. I fell in love with a boy who didn’t quite love me back-admittedly, I was terribly insecure and slightly overweight--and the entire experience drove me to

start practicing my craft. Writing helped me to escape, to reimagine a world where happy endings actually existed. If I couldn’t have the love of my life, I’d just create Mr. Right in my romance novels… with maybe a few embellishments. I’ve found my calling. Having the experience of doing what I love most as a full time job has given me happiness and confidence galore. And, soon after I found those, I was able to find companionship. Shout out to my guy and my kitty! I so hope you enjoy my books! I wish you the very best in this crazy thing called life. amazon.com/author/kirablakely facebook.com/kirablakelyromance www.kirablakely.com [email protected]