Get You Back : Part Two: Reunion Read online

  She shook her head, smiling at my reaction. "What?"

  I stepped close and brushed the heels of my palms across her nipples. I felt them rise up to meet my body heat. When they were hard enough, I pinched them through the silk of her dress. I didn't take it easy on her, because I knew she could take it. I knew she liked it. Her dilating pupils confirmed that.

  I stepped back. "There, that's what I'm talking about." The silk shaped her beautiful breasts and the erotic peaks of her nipples. "You're so gorgeous, Lauren."

  The atmosphere between us thickened. Lust hung in the air like the tropical humidity I still wasn't used to. Her breaths were coming faster. Each breath made the silk stroke across her nipples and stimulate them even more. "You devil," she whispered.

  My cock swelled. I had to remind myself that she wanted a date, and that screwing her up against the wall wasn't on the agenda. "Shall we go?"

  "I can't go out like this." She looked down at her front, a flush burning across her face.

  I grinned. "You're a goddess, my love. Face up to it."

  The words "my love" slipped out without me even thinking about them. Her head shot up and her eyes widened. I didn't take it back. This thing with Lauren was so out of the ordinary. I didn't know how to fit it into my previous sexual or romantic history. It fit no pattern or definition. She was Lauren, and she'd changed the entire paradigm of my heart.

  "Rye, we should …" She trailed off. I could see her struggling with how to respond to my accidental endearment. This was supposed to be a "bubble" out of time and place and I'd brought something deep into the picture.

  "Come on, don't look so worried." I took her hand. "You don't have to say anything. Besides, we're late for our date."

  We shook off the serious moment and, hand-in-hand, left the little bungalow. The cacophonous murmur of jungle frogs welcomed us as we stepped out the door. It had a personal, intimate quality, almost as if they were croaking a serenade for lovers. The full moon was just rising over the jungle. It gave the canopy an eerie, ominous, silvery quality. Like it was lighting the way for ghosts.

  With a shiver that had nothing to do with the air temperature, I wrapped one arm around her bare shoulders and steered her in the direction of the beach restaurant.

  Even if some nefarious evildoer did trek through the jungle, I was here now, and I intended to guard Lauren's safety with everything in my power.

  10

  Rye

  The restaurant had gotten into the Full Moon spirit by draping white twinkle lights along the edge of the tin roof. Tiki torches along the beach side made it even more festive. All the illumination created a bubble of light around the restaurant, but it only reached so far. Past the border of flickering tiki torch light, the moon-bright beach lurked in the night.

  Music pumped from an iPod docked at the front desk—the ubiquitous techno groove. Didn't anyone ever get tired of trance music here? I longed to blast some Clint Black or maybe some old-school Pat Benatar. Maybe you had to be stoned to truly appreciate the soundtrack here, and I'd never been one for drug use. Survival had been my high.

  As Lauren had predicted, the restaurant was unusually empty. We settled in at one of the uncomfortably low tables and the Thai owner came with menus. Lauren introduced me, and we exchanged bows of greeting. He rattled off the menu items, explaining the various kinds of curry.

  "The owners work all the time," Lauren told me after he'd taken our order. "They open up early, stay open late, and cook all day long. They have two kids who help out too. They're all extremely hard workers."

  "Honestly, I think I relate more to them than to any of the tourists here." I glanced around at the few other guests lounging on their pillows. "Relaxing isn't really my jam. I like to work."

  She smiled. A tea light set in a magenta holder with a gold-embossed pattern bathed her face in soft colors. "Cowboy work?"

  "Well …" Her cowboy references were making me feel guilty. I still hadn't told her that I wasn't really a cowboy, that I'd built up my fortune through high-risk investing. "Among other things."

  I changed the topic and launched into some funny stories about Annabelle. Lauren loved hearing about the time my sister surprised a bull and got chased into the next county. She loved hearing about the time she competed for rodeo queen dressed as early Madonna. I told her a bit about Elijah too. My nickname for him was the Zen Warrior because he had a way of defusing any situation. But when he had to bring down the hammer, everyone got out of his way.

  She ate up my stories. It reminded me of when she lived with us and used to listen to our squabbles and jokes with total attention. At the time, I hadn't thought about it, but I wondered now.

  "So in your other … um, living situations … were there ever other kids?"

  Her expression turned to wariness. "Not really, no. My mother didn't like kids. They … made things more complicated."

  Ouch. I tried to hide my reaction to that bit of Bliss bullshit, but it was difficult. So sorry to complicate your life, Bliss Blakewell.

  But none of it was Lauren's doing. Keep that in mind, I reminded myself. "Do you include yourself in that? Did you complicate Bliss's life?"

  "I tried not to." She worried her lower lip. "When I misbehaved, she would threaten to drop me off at the nearest church and leave me there. Now and then she took me to a church service. She'd pick the ones that had the most graphic images of Christ on a cross, or saints being martyred. She told me that was what happened to children who got left there. I grew up deathly afraid of anything having to do with church."

  "She's a fucking sadist."

  Lauren's face twisted. "When I turned eighteen, I forced the truth out of her—that she wasn't my real mother. It was the best news I ever got. She wouldn't tell me any more, but I figured whoever my real mother was, she had to be a better person than Bliss."

  Under the table, my fists clenched. What would she think about the news I had to give her? It would break her heart. “What about your father?”

  “Not a clue. I used to imagine that he was someone completely normal and ordinary, like a bus driver or a washing machine repairman.”

  The hope in her eyes made my heart clench. At least Bliss hadn’t told me anything about Lauren’s father. My message could only crush part of her spirit.

  Lauren dropped her eyes as she traced one finger along the pattern of gold thread on the tablecloth. "Rye … I know that when you tell me Bliss’s message everything will change. It’s like a poison pill. So I guess I'm being selfish by putting it off. I just … this time with you is like … it's like a dream. I don't want to wake up."

  A deep sense of satisfaction filled me. I was winning her over. She wanted me with her, despite her fears, despite her newfound freedom. "We don't have to. We can dream forever."

  Her hand landed like a feather on mine. "Forever. Just us, alone in the tropical night, with the moon rising over the ocean and the smell of lemongrass in the air."

  After dinner, we stepped out of the restaurant onto the sand, which had cooled as soon as the sun went down. The beat of drums sounded faintly from the direction of the swimming beach, like some far-off tribal dance.

  Barefoot, we strolled to the edge of the water, where creamy streaks of foam glowed in the moonlight. She glowed too, that ivory dress of hers moving with her body like an adoring lover. I almost felt jealous of it. I wanted to be next to her body like that. I wanted to be closer to her than her own skin.

  We waded into the water up to our knees. It lapped against our legs. Lauren lifted the hem of her dress above her knees and scolded the little waves as if they were naughty kittens. I felt my heart slip away a little more. That seemed to happen to me over and over again around Lauren.

  And yet there was still so much I didn't know about her. Not just about her "psychotic" mother, but also her father. At night, when you look across the surface of the ocean, you see something completely different than when you look straight down. Look toward the horizon, and you'll se
e whatever the moon illuminates—a path of dancing sparkles, the silvery facets of wind-driven chop. Look down, and you see nothing but dim, mysterious shadows.

  That was Lauren—the ocean at night. On the surface, she dazzled. Look deeper, and questions kept rising up like sea monsters.

  "Rye," she called to me. I realized she was floating neck deep in the water. She'd wrapped her dress around her head like a turban. Which meant …

  I dove headfirst into the water and stroked toward her. My hands found her flesh, and yes, she was completely, gloriously naked.

  "You bad girl," I scolded, grabbing her waist and tangling my legs with hers. "Anyone could come out here."

  "Everyone's at the other beach. Look, there's hardly anyone left at the restaurant."

  I checked over my shoulder and saw she was right. Not that I cared all that much. Fever was rising in my blood, driven by the drums getting louder and more urgent.

  Bad ideas ran through my head. I scanned the point that separated our beach from the wild jungle beyond. There—a nice smooth rock jutting into the ocean. Perfect.

  Wrapping my arm around her waist, I towed her toward the rocks. The moon hung over the jungle trees like a round, jolly Pied Piper, urging us to misbehave. The farther we got from the beach, the more we relied on moonlight instead of the twinkle lights and torches of the restaurant. The human sounds faded away, leaving only the constant lullaby of the frogs and the slap of water on rock—and those urgent, distant drums.

  "What are you doing?" She gave a nervous shiver.

  "Nothing good, that's for sure. You're a bad influence, Lauren Blakewell." We reached the smooth black slope of rock, which rose up out of a soft gravel bed covered in about three feet of water. The closer to it I waded, the shallower it got, until the water was at the level of my upper thighs. "Drape your dress over the rock. I don't want your nipples to get hurt."

  "What?"

  "Just do it," I ordered. I was so itchy to get inside her, I didn't want to waste time with politeness. "Here, I'll put mine down first." I plucked her balled-up dress from her hand and stretched it across the rock, which still held warmth from the sun. She could have stopped me, but she didn't. Her fingers fell open with a submissive obedience that got me even more turned on. Now there was a soft bed of fabric over the curve of the rock.

  "Hug the rock," I told her. "Come on, get up here."

  "This … this is crazy."

  "Anything you want, remember?"

  "What makes you think I want this?" Her voice shook.

  "I just know. Trust me."

  She bit her lip, gave me a long look, then waded through the dark water, each step revealing more of her naked body. Not a cloud in the sky blocked the intense light from the full moon. Water streamed like quicksilver down her body, and made her skin luminous. She shivered as the air hit her ocean-cooled body. Her nipples reacted to the contrast between warm and cold by swelling to the size of blackberries.

  I bent to kiss them reverently. She gasped and surrendered to my greedy tongue, arching her back and letting her hands fall to the sides. I stroked the fleshy globes softly as I feasted on the hard tips. It gave me such pleasure to feel them respond to my licking so instantly.

  When I'd licked my fill, I guided her to the rock. She draped herself against it, turning her head to one side so her cheek rested on its slope. With her arms opened wide, she felt along the rough surface and found two handholds at different heights. Once she'd settled into that position, her body relaxed. I saw it happen, one sleek muscle at a time.

  Her pale skin against the black inanimate rock was a thing of freaking beauty. The water lapped at her knees, but the rest of her was fully exposed, from the plump curves of her ass to the vulnerable slope of her neck. I ripped my wet t-shirt off so we could be flesh-to-flesh, then stroked my hand down her spine, feeling her shudder. I nudged her legs apart to create space between her thighs.

  "Know why I'm doing this?" I murmured in her ear.

  She shook her head. Her eyes were half closed, and she seemed as if she'd been transported to another dimension. Sub space, they call it. My dominant side tended to bring it out in my bed partners. But I'd never been as affected by it as I was right now. "So you don't come too soon. I'll give you what you want. Exactly what you want. But I get to say when."

  11

  Lauren

  I didn't know what was happening to me. My mind wasn't acting right. I felt drifty and dreamy. At Rye's mercy, and yet free. Rye's deep voice felt like the most important thing in the world, like a string to hold on to as my body moved from my control into his. The leftover day's warmth radiated from the rock radiated against my front. At my back, the night's cool had its way with me. Caught between sun and moon, rock and air, I felt reduced to my purely natural self.

  Flesh, made for one purpose only—pleasure.

  Rye touched between my legs with his skilled, clever fingers. "We have unfinished business to deal with."

  "What … what do you mean?" My tongue felt sluggish in my mouth.

  "You took your sweet time coming out of the water just now." He shaped his hands around the cheeks of my ass. My skin jumped. "If we were back in the bungalow, I'd tie you up and punish you for that. But since we're out here, I have to improvise. Hold on to the rock. Just the way you are. Do not drop your hands. Do you understand?"

  Crazy emotions were racing through me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kiss his feet. I wanted to rub my tits against the rock like a cat in heat. But he'd told me to stay still, so I did. And it helped, the staying still. It meant all those feelings could travel through me like lightning, but I was grounded in stillness. Safe from being incinerated.

  He dropped his stern tone for a second. "If this gets too intense, tell me. Just say, ‘too much,’ and I'll stop. You with me?"

  I nodded. I wasn't sure exactly what I was consenting to, but I knew I wanted it. Craved it. And I wasn't worried about anything. "I'm not worried," I told him. "I trust you."

  "Good." With rough fingertips, he traced circles around ass, picking up the pace until I lost track of the sensations, until my mind couldn't follow them anymore. Then all the tingles coalesced into a brisk, open-handed spank.

  My body jerked against the rock. Even through the padding of his shirt and my dress, I felt the solid abrasion of the stone against my nipples. Electric shocks seemed to pass from those engorged points right down to my pussy. I cried out.

  Rye stroked my rear end again, soothing the sting with the warm surface of his palm. The movement was lulling, hypnotic. The shock of the spank wore away, leaving a warm glow centered in my lower belly. I felt my inner channel pulse greedily, as if looking for a penis to embrace. There was one handy, but Rye wasn't bringing it out yet.

  I was busy fantasizing about how it would feel inside me, how big and thick and hard, when another spank landed on my ass.

  I groaned. It didn't hurt, but it did something wild to my nerve endings. Released some kind of tension, maybe. It drove me absolutely insane with lust, that feeling. It made me want to be nasty and raw and wide open. I spread my legs farther apart and waved my ass at him.

  "Keep still," he warned, his voice deep and thick as condensed honey. "Or I'll ram my cock right up that sweet ass of yours."

  Oh fuck. Moisture gathered between my legs. "Please, Rye," I whispered. Not that I wanted … that. Sex in general was still new to me. And Rye was a very big man, in all respects. But the idea of it made me wild. I loved the feeling of him using my body however he wanted, doing whatever it took to get himself off.

  He stroked his thumb through the liquid gathering in my sex. "Pull back a little," he commanded. "Keep your hands where they are, but bring your legs a little farther away from the rock. Stick your ass in the air like you just don't care."

  I smiled into my shoulder. Trust Rye to make me laugh while he was screwing me mindless. I did as he said. The change in angle brought the tops of my nipples closer against the rock, and exposed my clit a litt
le more. He guided me into the position he wanted, his hands rough against my inner thighs. Then he kneeled between my legs and started licking.

  Oh my God, I nearly screamed as his hot tongue stroked along my seam. He kept his hands dug into my thighs, pressing my lips apart so he could play with my clit. He lapped up my juices with raw greed while I babbled urgent words into the rock. Good thing it couldn't understand me.

  "Oh my God, Rye, that feels too good, I can't stand it. More, Rye, more. Harder. Don't slow down, don't … oh my God." I pushed my nipples against the rock, desperate for even more sensation, even though when it came, it was almost too much.

  The relentless pace of his tongue gave me nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I was split open to him. Completely revealed in all my hungry need. "Please please please," I begged him. I trembled on the edge of my cliff of orgasm, desperate to tumble over, but he kept on teasing me. He wouldn't give me the friction I craved, no matter how I pleaded. Instead he slowed his pace until my shudders weren't quite so all-consuming.

  "I want us to come together," he whispered as he got to his feet. The heat from his bare flesh passing mine made the little hairs on my skin stand up. "I love how your pussy milks me when you orgasm."

  My inner muscles clenched. I waited, plastered against that rock, as the moments ticked past. What would it be? A spank on my ass or a hard cock probing my entrance? Ocean-cooled air blew across my skin. A night bird cried in the jungle. Life vibrated around us and we were part of it. Two animals coming together in naked need.

  The scratch of his zipper coming down sent saliva into my mouth. God, how I craved him. One big hand came around my front and cupped my mound. The other hand nudged the swollen head of his cock against my slick entrance. Maneuvering me from both sides, he angled my hips so he could insert himself inside. He was so hard that right away I felt stretched full, and that was only with his thick tip nudging inside.