Twisted Together
Page 7So where the f**k was the plane?
I stomped down the pier, looking in the distance to moored vessels, trying to glimpse the white and black twin prop Otter somewhere on the turquoise water.
Nothing.
“Are you Mr. Mercer?” a youngish man asked. He had short black hair and a face that’d been tanned and weathered by the sun. My fingers twitched in preparation. I no longer trusted anyone—especially foreign strangers.
Scowling, I nodded. “Yes. Captain Morrow was supposed to be here. He’s on call.”
The man shook his head. “I’m Bill Castro. I’ve been assigned instead.” His white uniform, with gleaming black buttons and a crest of an embroidered wave on the pocket, marked him as one of the many yacht crew in the port. “I’m afraid the captain is currently in hospital, sir. Triple bypass, unfortunately. I’ve been asked to escort you to where you want to go on one of the newest speedboats in our fleet.”
Twisting his torso, he pointed at a sleek white and silver vessel that looked like a bullet on the water. Mahogany and cherry wood decorated the interior panels gleaming richly in the sun.
A boat? No f**king chance.
“I’m not sailing. I always fly.” Flying was my thing. Flying was my one passion—the air was meant to be explored with the help of thrusters and powerful turbines. The ocean—that was meant to be avoided at all costs. I hated the water. I hated how innocent it looked at first glance, but beneath the depths it hid monsters, while the surface was home to waves eager to drown unsuspecting victims.
“We wouldn’t sail, sir. It has a top speed of fifty-eight knots. You’ll be holding on for dear life while tears stream from your eyes.” The captain grinned.
I wanted to punch him. What if he’d been hired to take us out to sea and dispatch us on behalf of Emerald Dragon and his concubine hoard, or the Rattlesnake ass**les in Australia with their harem of drugged-up slaves?
“Surely there’s another pilot who can fly the Otter?”
“Q?” Tess appeared by my shoulder, flanked by Franco. Her eyes landed on the man who I wanted to throw off the pier.
“Everything okay, boss?” Franco asked, eyeing up the speedboat captain with a glint best described as wolf-like. Franco had embraced what we’d done in Rio, and I had no doubt he’d like to have a reason to do it again.
“Apparently our pilot is on his death bed, and our transportation now includes a flimsy dingy.”
“Not a dingy, sir. It’s a top-of-the-line vessel. And unfortunately it’s your only option as the Otter is in for its regular maintenance and the other seaplane operators are fully booked this week with a Japanese tour group.” Bill raised an eyebrow. “If you want to travel, I’m your only option.”
“A boat doesn’t sound so bad,” Tess said, smiling at Bill. She may look unafraid and cool but no one knew her like I did. The nuances of the way she held herself hinted she didn’t like being around strangers.
I glanced at the line of boats all bobbing like f**king corks in the water. So unreliable. So rudimentary. “How long will it take?”
“Depends on where you’re going. I’ve been sworn to secrecy and was told you’d provide coordinates.”
Bill seemed to hear my thoughts. “I’m your only choice, unless you want to swim.”
I glanced at Tess. She seemed fairly relaxed—not too tense. I trusted her instincts and she wasn’t throwing off alarm signals.
“Fine. It’s 29.0580 North and 16.8796 West. How long?”
Bill’s forehead furrowed, doing some quick math. “About thirty to forty minutes. That’s at thirty-five knots. Can’t have you falling overboard at top speed.”
I glowered.
“If it’s the only option, it’s the only option,” Franco said, stating the f**king obvious.
We’d only been away from home for five hours, and I already missed the security and sanctuary of my chateau.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s go.” Grabbing Tess’s elbow, I guided her toward the sparkling white speedboat. State of the art instruments and glass radar screens refracted the sun, blinding me as I stopped. How the hell were we supposed to get on board?
Bill dashed past us, hurling himself onto the deck looking nimble and a regular seafarer. The creaking of the salt-drenched pier sounded haunted as he placed a small platform across the gap. In another second, he’d attached a handrail, beckoning us across.
“You go first.” I motioned at Franco. He rolled his eyes but took our bags, striding over the plank. Bill took the duffels and placed them inside one of the mahogany bench seats.
Tess went to move forward, but I couldn’t unwrap my fingers around her wrist. I hated the thought of letting go—even though I’d be able to touch her the moment we were on board. Let go of her, you idiot. My fingers released, and I cursed the burn deep inside me. I needed the ‘Q’ branded on her neck to be in full view. I needed everyone to see who her master was.
Flashing a fleeting smile, she crossed the gangway, following Franco’s example. A lash of anger filled me when Bill’s eyes lit up. He offered her his hand to jump the small distance into the boat.
Franco might have rights to touch my woman but no other male did. Never f**king again.
Ignoring the plank, I leapt over the side, narrowly missing an embarrassing plunge into the sea, and spun to offer my hand. The roll and buoyancy of the boat beneath my feet gave me instant seasickness. Give me planes, helicopters, even gliders and parachutes, and I was fine; put me on a boat, and I f**king hated every moment of it.
Tess looked between me and the captain, her lips pressed together. She knew what I was doing. She knew I wouldn’t let him touch her, and she knew exactly what I would do if she took his hand over mine.
Lucky for her she didn’t play games, otherwise I would’ve had to break the captain’s legs.
With a soft smile, she reached for my palm. The moment her fingers looped with mine, my c**k thickened. I might be governed by my heart nowadays but having her delicate, very breakable touch in mine turned the man into a monster, and f**k I wanted her. I wanted her spread below me, bound before me. I wanted her gagged and chained, so I could worship her for hours.
Squeezing my eyes briefly, I kept a tight hold on my needs and very carefully grabbed her waist. Lifting her the small distance downward, I deliberately kept her body away from mine. I swallowed hard. “Tu vas bien?”You okay?
I couldn’t help asking why? Why did she trust me? Why had she forgiven me? She’d been stolen when she’d been with me. Taken when I’d promised to keep her safe. My chest concaved with a quarry of guilt.
I turned to face the man who had our lives in his hands while crossing an ocean. Hell, I hated boats. “I don’t want to be on this piece of shit any longer than necessary. Let’s go.”
Bill jumped to action. Tess moved to sit on the back wraparound seat while Franco perched on one of the high seats by the control hub. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and he’d taken off his black blazer, revealing the shoulder holster with his two guns.
Tess eyed the weapons but instead of looking distasteful, she looked relieved. I wanted to know what she thought. I wanted into her damn mind. If she didn’t start talking soon I’d have to use drastic measures to get information out of her.
I sat beside Tess. She instantly slid closer, pressing her hip against mine. I wasn’t one for public displays of affection but if she so much as touched me again, I would strip her in seconds and take her in full view.
Goddammit, the images in my head were thick and tempting. Her panting while I licked her pu**y. Her tears streaming as I re-introduced her to pain and pleasure. My balls tightened in anticipation.
The captain unhooked the boat, coiled the rope, and headed to the instruments. The vessel started with a powerful purr and he nudged the acceleration lever so we coasted forward. A froth of bubbles were left in our wake, and we meandered our way around docked boats and impressive yachts.
The moment we hit open waters, he floored it.
“Crap!” Tess squealed as the boat went from sitting low in the water to almost hydro-planing. Okay, the piece of shit could go fast. I would still much rather be in the sky.
Waves crashed and shuddered with harsh slaps against the hull, faster and faster.
My heart thudded with a rush of queasiness. I was too hot. Too tense. Unbuttoning my shirt, I ripped it off, revealing the thin white t-shirt beneath. Tess’s eyes went wide; she licked her lips. I looked down to what she focused on, noticing the ink from my tattoo shadowed beneath the material, giving hints at the hidden design.
Her hand landed on my torso, trailing her fingers over my abs.
Sucking in a breath, I lifted my arm, letting her snuggle into my body. I groaned softly as her fingers clutched my t-shirt. My arm locked around her shoulders, restraining her against me. Rubbing my nose in her hair, I whispered, “You keep doing that, and you’ll be half-naked with my tongue between your legs in front of witnesses.”
She froze. “You wouldn’t.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Keep your hands in one place and I might be able to hold on until we have privacy.”
Tess gave me a look that shot my heart to pieces, then placed her hands in her lap demurely and rested her head against me.
The rest of the boat ride was f**king torture. The warm wind whipped Tess’s curls into a mess of mayhem, filling my mouth and tickling my neck and face. All I wanted to do was grab a fist of it and use it to hold her delicious lips over my cock.
Even now. Even after everything she’d been through, I still wanted to use her like a whore—like a slave. I was still f**ked up. Still my father’s son.
Tess looked peaceful, resting against me. But the bags under her eyes and hollow cheeks spoke the truth. The moment she was on Volière I would make her happy again. I would spend my days feeding her delicious food to replace the curves she lost, and dedicate the nights reminding her how unbreakable she was. The ghosts in her mind wouldn’t survive out here. Nothing dark could exist in this vivid sunshine.
Finally the boat slowed. We bumped gently against a decrepit jetty jutting out from a wild and rugged island.
Everything about it looked vicious and untamed. There was no helipad, no landing strip, nothing of great luxury. When I’d bought it, I toyed with the idea of chopping it down and destroying the thick jungle to make way for a hotel or other commercial development. But then I fell in love with it. With its exoticness, unruliness. It was perfect in its untouchedness.
“This is your island?” Tess asked, her eyelashes fluttering in the sunlight.
Franco jumped onto the jetty, helping Bill moor to the post. Old tyres were the only things stopping the sleek sides from being punctured by rusty nails and splintered wood.
“Yes. In all its natural glory.” Standing, I bent down, wrapped my arms around Tess’s back and legs, and picked her up.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Te porter pour passer le seuil.”Carrying you over the threshold. Cradling her in my arms, I made my way across the bobbing vessel and placed her ever so gently on the wooden platform beside it.
Climbing up beside her, I took a large lungful of air. The nausea I’d been battling since we took off miraculously stopped the moment my feet touched firm ground. The jetty wasn’t on buoys but anchored onto the sandy bottom of the atoll.
A large flock of local birds suddenly took flight from the thicket of trees, squawking and shrieking at us interrupting their wilderness. I instantly felt better. I didn’t want to change a thing, but one thing was a must—an airstrip—so I never had to step foot in a boat again.
“I’ll go make sure the house is still standing.” Franco gave me a look as he strode off. He knew where the path was, hidden by foliage leading toward the large six bedroom dwelling the previous investor had built for his family. Franco had been here with me while I worked, and the original home was well built if not a little rustic. It would be spotlessly clean thanks to a regular maintenance crew who came once a month.
Tess spun around in awe. “This place…it’s…”
I smiled; tension siphoned from my muscles. Blue ocean surrounded us, hemming us in like a wall-less cage. Intruders would have a hard time touching shore without the security cameras noticing them first. Tess would be perfectly safe. I would be untouchable for any bastard who wanted revenge.
“Q, I had no idea it would be like this. I visualized a tiny sandy island with one palm tree.”
I chuckled. “It has a fair bit more than one.” Moving closer, I ignored Bill and his hellish boat. “You don’t find it underwhelming…more suited for a boy’s fishing weekend rather than a wedding?” After all, from here it looked as if we’d need a machete and dy***ite to make our way through the undergrowth. She didn’t know the house in the centre had manicured gardens and metres of idyllic paradise.
She laughed. “No. It’s perfect. More than perfect. Untamed. Animalistic. Completely untouched and unruined.” Her eyes dropped; she whispered, “Just like you. It fits you perfectly.”
I looked again at the thick palm trees, trying to see it through her eyes.