Pleasure Island

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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Pleasure Island

ISBN 9781419920796 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Pleasure Island Copyright © 2009 Michelle M. Pillow & Mandy M. Roth

Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower. Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication January 2009

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

PLEASURE ISLAND

Michelle M. Pillow & Mandy M. Roth

Dedication

To our wonderful readers at the Cave who make what we do such a joy! And to the Pleasure Cruise fans who clamored for more. It was your emails and support that inspired us to write a book related to the world.

Chapter One “Lady,” Jurgen Cuyper said, gritting his teeth as his cock dug at the confines of his jeans. Music pumped from the old jukebox in the corner of the bar. It was a song that was made before he was born and it was one of the most recent songs the thing had to offer. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but I’m trying to enjoy a drink and your yapping is makin’ that damn hard to do.” The woman, her strawberry-blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, gasped. Tiny wisps of it came free and he knew it was long and slightly curly. His fingers itched to run through it. Her blue eyes reeled with astonishment and her tongue darted out and over her lips. “My yapping?” He palmed his dick through his jeans, staring her over. She’d be a sweet fuck. He was sure of that. He could almost taste her cream on his lips as he brought his glass to his mouth. The whiskey had a slight bite, nowhere as sharp as his could be. He glanced at his buddy, a fellow private pilot, and grinned. “Think she’d look good on me? Looks about my size, doesn’t she?” His friend laughed, lifting his drink and slamming it down. “Hell yeah. If she doesn’t fit you, man, I’ll take her for a spin or two.” Pure animalistic rage ripped through him and his eyes burned with the need to shift colors. His voice deepened in warning. “Don’t even think about it.” Putting his hands up to signal surrender, his friend hurried away, knowing better than to chance Jurgen’s wrath. He had no reason to stake a claim on the woman but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His supernatural blood tended to control his moods more than he liked but it had never done so to this extent before. The woman huffed, lifted the bottle of whiskey and poured it directly onto his lap. Jurgen shot up and out of the chair, sending it crashing to the ground. Disbelief shot through him. The woman actually wasted perfectly good liquor. He was about to tell her exactly what he thought of that when he noticed the moisture in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled and dammit if his chest didn’t get all tight. Fuck. He ran a hand over his shorn hair and glanced to the side to find most of the bar staring at him. The place was a dive but it was a dive he knew well. He glared at them and they looked away. Putting his hand out, Jurgen sighed. “Don’t do that.” She held the empty bottle out to him, her chin wobbling. “For Christ’s sake, lady, don’t do that.” She burst into tears and he growled, bending and scooping her up. He tossed her over one shoulder and stalked toward the back of the bar. She slapped at his back but he ignored her. His jeans rubbed him the wrong way and chafing was a real threat. His boots crunched the semi-sandy soil as he headed straight for one of the many tiny cabins that ran along the backside of the bar. “Put me down!” the pistol of a woman over his shoulder yelled, hitting at his back again. “I will.” He flashed a wicked grin. “Then I’m stripping these wet jeans off and I’m going to make you lick every drop of whiskey from my body.” She froze and it took all he had not to laugh. As much as he wanted that pretty pink tongue running over the head of his cock, he’d never force a woman to do anything she didn’t want to do. That wasn’t his thing. Though he had to admit he’d considered whisking away the livid li’l thing. He’d caught her engaging scent before she’d even entered the bar. His cock responded first, which wasn’t surprising. The thing did tend to have a mind of its own. The beast he carried within was next in line to acknowledge that she stirred something in him. Hell, that was sight unseen. Watching her sexy body sashay into the bar as she’d asked for a pilot and a plane to take her to the mainland did something to him he couldn’t explain. For a minute, the pulsing in his cock seemed to reach his head, beating, pounding out something that sounded remarkably like “claim her”. A shudder raced through him at the thought of tying himself to any one woman, let alone the one he held now. She was demanding, prissy, too proper, too wiggling on his shoulder. Her arousal assailed his senses. Inhaling deeply, Jurgen groaned, the tip of his dick leaking pre-cum. “Woman, be still or you will be fucked good and hard. Am I clear?” “Y-yes,” she whispered. He entered the end cabin and kicked the door shut behind him. She gasped as he deposited her on the bed. It squeaked. So did she. A pale hand clasped her throat as she stared up at him. “I-I just need someone to fly me to…” Her fear cooled his ragging hard-on. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why did you bring me here then?” “One,” he palmed his cock again, “I’m soaked. Someone here lost their temper and dumped a bottle of whiskey on me.” She blushed and he wanted to kiss every spot that turned red. “Sorry.” “No you’re not, but good effort to make me think so. The second reason you’re here is half the bar heard you say you didn’t have any place to stay tonight. Rather than leave you to the wolves,” he paused, chuckling to himself, “I thought it safer to bring you here. We’re flying out together, it only makes sense you stay nearby.” He went to the brown army bag lying on the floor in the corner of the room. He tended to just sleep here rather than go to his place. It was close to the bar and the only airstrip the island had. He pulled out a clean, dry pair of jeans. “Want to tell me why you were about to cry in there?” “I came here to surprise my boyfriend, Frank,” she confessed, and from the expression on her face, she was the one who ended up surprised. “And?” he prompted, already wanting to kill the asshole who dared to hurt her. “Turns out he was otherwise occupied with another woman.” He stilled. “Give me his full name and I can promise to make him suffer.” He was only half joking. Something about the woman drove him wild. Her lips curved upward slightly. “Only if you promise to let me watch.” Jurgen unsnapped his jeans, trying not to let his eagerness show any more than it obviously was. At this point, nothing was going to hide the fact his compass pointed a very due north. “Got a name?” “Annette Rowe,” she said, her gaze going to his groin. She paled. “You’re not going to strip right here and now, are you?” Hooking his thumbs in his jean loops, Jurgen pushed them down, baring himself to her. “Yep.” She slapped her hands over her eyes and he couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted throughout the room. The sound of his amusement only caused the pink in her cheeks to deepen. She didn’t move her hand and her fingers twitched almost nervously against her forehead. He approached the bed slowly, leaning over her so he could place his lips close to her ear. “You know you want to peek.” She stiffened, her hands falling slightly to reveal her wide eyes peeking at him. He laughed harder. “Tell me where exactly on the mainland you want me to fly you and I will.” “You’re drunk,” she stressed, looking at him and then putting her hands over her eyes again when she saw just how happy his cock was to be close to her. “And naked.” “I call that a good night, sweetheart.” What happened to the woman who just a few seconds ago said she wanted to watch? For a second, he thought he’d seen a break in her prim mystique. “You. Are. A. Pig.” Nope. Nothing but propriety from this one. He was a fool to be swept away by her smell. Even now it clouded his head and made him act rather than think. “Nope. Wrong animal. Try again, Miss Rowe.” She crawled backward on the bed. “You can’t fly a plane tonight. It’s not safe.” “Think it’s any safer here,” a feral smile touched his lips, “alone with me?” Gods curse him, he couldn’t stop. The beast inside him wanted to play. She jutted her chin out. “Yes, because you said you wouldn’t hurt me.” Dammit. She had him there. He was about to comment when the keen awareness of how exhausted she was, both mentally and physically, came over him. He had about a half a second to reflect on the knowledge he was picking up on her emotions before he found himself crawling up and over her on the bed, still completely naked. “I-I should go.” Annette went ramrod stiff and didn’t make a move to leave his bed. Jerking on the blanket beneath them, he pulled it over his exposed cock. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said, yanking her into his embrace. She resisted at first but then molded against his frame like she was made to be there. “I’m not having sex with you.” “I know.” “And I don’t like being called sweetheart.” “I know,” he said, still holding her. “Then what are you doing?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he countered. “I’m giving in to those feminine wiles of yours and holding you.” “But…” “Shh,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. “Just let it be for tonight. We’ll head to the mainland in the morning.” Was he actually proposing they sleep together and nothing else? His cock screamed at him, causing the beast to rant in protest. He ignored them both, using everything he had to keep calm, logical control. “I should call my cousin.” Annette yawned, her voice strained with the need to sleep. “She’ll be worried about me.” “You can do that in the morning too,” he assured her. “Right now, I’m thinking you need to be held and I’m starting to feel the effects of that whiskey.” She grunted and he chuckled, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply before closing his eyes. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not with his arm draped possessively over her. Nope, tonight she was all his and not even the gods could tear her away from him.

Chapter Two Vaclar groaned as he stood in the assembly of the gods, listening to Bogdan, the keeper of the records, go on about his amount of power usage. It wasn’t the first time Vaclar had been called forth to answer for his actions nor would it be the last. Trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. Of course, it didn’t help that he often invited it. Immortality tended to be tiresome after the first few hundred years and Vaclar needed ways to keep his interest and his sanity intact. Somehow, he’d been labeled a trickster among the gods though his intentions were always honorable. Okay, they were honorable, most of the time. Okay, some of the time. Bogdan droned on, but Vaclar didn’t really listen as he wondered where the goddess Aliki might be hiding. She had incredible breasts and a fetish for having sex inside dormant volcanoes. Sure, she wanted to cuddle afterwards, but Vaclar could easily get out of that. One surge of power and he’d disappear to a place she couldn’t track him. Damn! He’d forgotten. The whole reason he’d been dragged here was for overusing his power allotment. If he wasn’t careful, they’d take away his abilities to wield power completely. Vaclar could think of nothing worse than being powerless. He shivered at the very thought of having to dress himself or worse, get what the mortals called a “job”. Some idiot god decided long ago that rationing the amount of power each “lesser” god could use was a good idea. Apparently, it was to keep the lesser gods in line so they didn’t try to overthrow the assembly. So what if they did? It’s not like the assembly didn’t have all eternity to get their positions back. The higher beings would be lucky to have something so engaging to do with their time. A well-planned strategy could entertain for years. “You out of all the gods should know we have rules for a reason,” Bogdan lectured. Okay, so Vaclar did start the last rebellion. But to be fair, the “lessers” had been drinking and fucking for nearly two years without break before deciding to overthrow the killjoy assembly. The higher beings sat in their godly castle, watching the lessers with disdain, all the while bemoaning the fate of supernatural creatures on Earth. The assembly was obsessed with finding supernaturals suitable human mates. The female of that race did have their charms, in a primitive, naïve way. Vaclar found it much more diverting to obsess over mating with humans as often and as much as he possibly could—to Tartarus with everyone else. He tapped his bare feet on the marble flooring, waiting to be chastised for his clothing choices. He’d gone with a faded pair of blue jeans, a white muscle shirt with one of his favorite beer logos on it and nothing else. Some poor mortal in the Caribbean would be missing the attire out of his suitcase. Stealing clothes was less power draining than materializing it out of thin air. Buying them was simply not done. Not when he could take what he needed. Scratching his scruffy chin, he noted he had at least two weeks’ worth of growth on it. Bogdan was clean-shaven and in the normal garb of the gods—a crown of laurel leaves, a knee-length tunic with gold cords wrapped around to form a crisscross pattern, and leather sandals with straps that tied up to mid-calf. A door slammed and it echoed through the halls of the assembly building. A table lined with wine decanters and cups was left wobbling. The “big guy” himself must have been storming about because no other god had the power to cause a tremor to ripple through the building. Vaclar glanced up at a statue of a male god engaging in sex with serving girls. It, and others like it, lined the upper terrace level. The area was reserved for the elite to sit while a large-scale meeting of the gods was in session. The entire massive structure was a shrine to them all, depicting their history, their desires and some of their downfalls. The white marble statue that had caught Vaclar’s attention had been chiseled into a striking likeness of his cousin, Vincenc. Vaclar’s cock hardened at the sight of the serving girls’ breasts. They were pert, small, with upturned nipples—just the way he liked them. Too bad they weren’t real. He could use a good fuck before he had to deal with the rest of the gods. Maybe if the rest of the gods took a moment to pole a few serving girls they’d loosen up a bit. Doubtful. Bogdan peered down the end of his narrow nose, a judgmental look upon his pinched face. The man seemed to be in constant a state of worry. “Let’s see.” He opened a scroll and the end of it fell to the floor, rolling away, listing infractions Vaclar had incurred over the course of his immortally long life. Vaclar waited for the scroll to stop unrolling and reach the end but it kept going, and going, and going. Tapping the edge of the scroll, Bogdan nodded, appearing to have found the answers he was looking for. “Mmmhmm, yes. It would seem you are over your limit by…” Vaclar shrugged, more interested in the erotic sculptures than the man before him. “What? A couple of weeks’ worth? We can ask Anfisa to stop her efforts to fix that pesky ozone problem everyone keeps crying about and that should free up some reserves. Really, are you buying this whole greenhouse effect the little mortals keep going on about? What’s so wrong with warmer weather?” Bogdan puffed with superiority. “Try closer to five years over your limit, Vaclar.” “Five years?” Vaclar ran a hand through his long black hair, wondering how it was he’d used so much power in so little time. The gods were given

the amounts they needed to fulfill their sworn duties and a small amount for recreational use but nothing more. It was possible to dip into the general power pool as often as one wanted but the assembly of the gods kept a close eye upon the reserve—punishing those who dared to break the laws. Vaclar’s gaze darted toward the side of the assembly where statues depicted the demise of gods who had dared to challenge the others. He gulped at the sight of one of them being fed alive to a mammoth water snake. Another showed a god’s limbs being severed and fed to the lions guarding the gates of paradise. His palms began to sweat. Okay, so maybe he’d been just a little excessive. He’d summoned forth a private tropical island, filling it with willing virgins who wanted nothing more than please him, and feasting on an endless buffet of food and wine. As Vaclar thought back to the week of constant debauchery, he cringed. With Bogdan’s incisive clicking of disapproval, he found himself debating if it had been worth it. On one side, naked virgins running around, breasts bouncing, young bodies wet with surf, dusted with sand, so tan and… Vaclar groaned, his cock responding to the very memory of the pleasures he’d permitted himself. “Care to explain what it was you used the power for?” Bogdan asked, his tone condescending. Vaclar cleared his throat, his mind racing for an answer. “Uh, I…umm…” He glanced toward the wall, noting a tapestry for the assembly’s new pet project, “Pleasure Cruise”. He’d heard other gods talking about the cruise line they’d put together in order to help supernaturals find their mates to continue the species. Vaclar had even debated crashing the party to see what kind of mischief he could cause, but decided against it since it was so heavily monitored. The other gods seemed to be putting a lot of effort into the cause. His smile was animated as he spoke, “Why, yes, Bog-man, I would love to tell you what I’ve been up to.” “It’s Bogdan.” “I know.” Vaclar winked, tossing an arm around the thin man’s shoulder. “I heard about the Powers That Be wanting to boost the supernatural population back to what it once was by to hooking them up with their destined mates and I thought I could lend a hand. You know how much I worry about the little rodents…erm…I mean humans and supernaturals.” “You,” Bogdan huffed in obvious disbelief, “thought you could help? How?” A Cheshire-cat grin slid over Vaclar’s face. He couldn’t believe how easy this was—lying to Bogdan. Though, he wasn’t really surprised at the ease in which the falsehoods came. He’d done his fair share of lying over the centuries. Thinking of his tropical island paradise, just waiting to sink into the ocean from his more recent neglect of it, he said, “I’ve created an island, devoted solely to bringing together supernaturals and their mates. I was so inspired by the brilliance of Pleasure Cruise. Was that your idea, Bog-man?” “An island?” Bogdan asked, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah,” Vaclar said. “A regular Garden of Eden on Earth. In fact, it’s all ready to go.” Not really. Not even close. “With such a grand scheme as the boat trips to live up to, I didn’t want to tell you about it until it was up and running with the first couples, but,” Vaclar shrugged, giving the man a purposefully forlorn look, “you forced me to ruin the surprise.” “And this is where the power went?” Bogdan didn’t look completely convinced, but he was wavering. “Yes. Every bit of the overage and then some. I even donated all my leisure allotment to make it work.” Vaclar had only planned to use the island for a week to spoil maidens and it was anything but a paradise when he left. It looked more like the morning after a party at a fraternity house, but it wouldn’t take too much to clean it up. “Of course, I’ll need a wee bit more power allotted to me.” Bogdan raised an eyebrow. “Just to put the finishing touches on it. You know, make it extra-special. Human women liked to be romanced.” He lifted a hand, motioning toward the vaulted ceiling. He widened his eyes and leaned down to Bogdan’s height. “Can you see it now? Bogdan…the one who helped the gods fulfill destinies. A hero, a legend. That could be you sculpted up there.” Bogdan nodded, seeming swept away in Vaclar’s theatrics. “They will have ceremonies honoring you. Bards will sing of your contributions to the greater good for centuries to come. Supernaturals will speak your name in hushed, reverent tones. Maidens will swoon at the very sight of…” Licking his lips, Bogdan stared up at Vaclar. “Maidens? How many?” “Oh, more than you could ever count, my friend. It’s a well-known fact that maidens like heroes.” He bit back a laugh. It was clear Bogdan hadn’t been laid in quite some time. The fact actually explained a lot. “And exactly how many couples does this island hold?” Bogdan asked. “Ah, one?” He didn’t want to do too much work after all. Bogdan began to shake his head in denial. Vaclar quickly amended, “Two. It’s perfect for two couples. I didn’t have enough power to make room for more. I thought I’d try it out, make sure everything was up and running smoothly first.

Wouldn’t want to have anyone leaving unmated, would we?” He gave a nervous laugh, seeing the wavering in Bogdan’s eyes. “What do you say, friend? Can I have more power rations?” Bogdan was silent for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Two weeks’ worth. No more.” Two weeks’ worth? What the hell was he supposed to do with that? He knew better than to push and risk Bogdan coming back to his senses. “It’s a deal,” Vaclar said, wondering how he was going to pull off making an island, created on a whim, into the next paradise on Earth. He’d think of something, but first he needed a few test subjects. Bogdan leaned closer to him and sniffed. “What is that horrible smell?” A week’s worth of sex, food and wine. He thought it best to avoid the truth. “Uh, I’m not sure.” Pointing down the hall, Bogdan took a step back from Vaclar. “Bathing pools are that way. The daughters of Talisgon are there as we speak. They’ve asked about you twice already.” “Twice?” Vaclar grinned. “Then I should really be on my way. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.” “Yes, they are insufferably impatient when they want something,” Bogdan said. Vaclar ignored him as he hurried toward the bathing pools. Suddenly, he stopped when he remembered the need to find test subjects for his island. The call of the daughters of Talisgon was almost too much but he resisted the urge to ignore his new duty. He liked having powers as much as he liked fucking. It would be easy enough to find two pairs destined for one another. Though he did feel a little sorry for the poor suckers.

Ah well, better them than me. His pity didn’t last long. He’d get them to the island with little more than the briefest of moments wasted. Really, it didn’t matter how he got them there, just so long as they got there. Then he could get back to bathing pools.

***** Annette sat, staring out the tiny window of the twin-engine plane wondering why it was she’d forced Jurgen to take her back to the mainland when the weather was less than stellar. They’d waited until morning and until he’d slept off the alcohol he’d consumed before departing. In her defense, no storms had been predicted by the weatherman. One most certainly had come. She glanced up at him once more, already having spent most of the time in the air watching the side of his head. Her eyes traced the line where flesh met light brown hair, hair shaved so close to his head that it was almost nonexistent. The clean-cut look suited him, as did the stubble lining the sides of his face and jawline, accenting the cleft in his chin. He was well past the point of handsome and even though he was crass and a bit of a jerk, he had his finer moments, like when he’d offered to handle her problem with her boyfriend. The insistence on holding her in the middle of the night was a bonus, not that she would ever admit as much to him. Perhaps it was the charm of the island, but from the first moment she looked at the sexy pilot, she’d felt a connection him. Every part of her begged her to be near him, to trust him. Jurgen had grown quiet after they’d taken off. She almost missed his sexual innuendoes and teasing smile. The small plane could seat upward of eight people and appeared to be well cared for. Right now, she was the only passenger. The plane wasn’t new but it wasn’t old either. The interior looked to have been redone at some point and was white with varying shades of blue edging the seats. The plane rocked as it went through another set of dark clouds. Annette hated to fly but it was a necessary part of her job. She’d only been on a plane this small a handful of times and never remembered a flight being so rough. “Is this normal?” she asked. He didn’t glance back. His attention was on the skies ahead of him. Annette couldn’t throw a fit about that because it was better he focus on that than her, but still, the sting of rejection was still fresh in her mind. It was no fault of the pilot’s but rather her boyfriend.

No, she thought to herself with a huff. Ex-boyfriend. Annette had it in her head that she was going to surprise her boyfriend by visiting him at his summer home on a tiny, private island in the Bahamas. She’d packed all new lingerie and a bagful of sex toys she’d bought especially for the trip. Her boyfriend used to complain she wasn’t daring enough for him and that he wanted to break her out of her shell. She’d set out to change all of that. After notifying her boss that she’d be taking a two-week vacation, she’d called her cousin Christy, who was more like a sister to her, and confessed her plan to surprise her boyfriend. Unfortunately, the surprise had been on her when she’d walked in to find him with another woman. Annette should have been furious. She wasn’t. Oddly, she was relieved, though she wasn’t sure why. In fact, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. The only hitch in her island escape was when she found out the annoying, albeit incredibly handsome pilot didn’t plan on flying back to the mainland anytime soon. There was only one airstrip off the island and it was lined with old downed planes. After much tantrum throwing and, in the end, pleading, she convinced Jurgen to change his plans. As the plane jerked and shuddered in the sky, she almost wished Jurgen had refused to take off. By the soft muttering coming from the pilot’s seat, he was wishing pretty much the same thing. The weather had turned sour and he’d spent the last fifteen minutes cursing her and her dammed “female wiles”.

The light vibration of the flight left her pussy damp and need throbbed through her. If she was more like her cousin, she would have used those female wiles to seduce the good pilot the night before and let him ease the ache between her legs. The man was in great shape. That tall, tanned, six-foot-two body would definitely know how to please a woman. What she wouldn’t give to have his long fingers thrusting in and out of her hot cunt at that moment. Annette shifted awkwardly in the seat, trying to ease the discomfort from being so aroused. It didn’t work. All she succeeded in doing was making additional cream form in her panties. She wanted to hike up her skirt and beg the man to fill her with his cock. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t a prude by any means but she was cautious about her bed partners. Annette was up-to-date on all her shots that were required by law. They prevented the spread of disease and pregnancy. She visited her medical care provider as scheduled and was in what she’d assumed was a monogamous relationship for the past six months. Oh, how wrong she’d been. She let out an annoyed breath and tried crossing her legs. That only made her cream-soaked pussy dampen more. At the rate she was going, she’d need to wring her panties out when they landed. If he wasn’t such a jackass, she might have actually acted on her impulses. He glanced back at her and she held her breath. Even as he glared at her, his eyes nearly did her in. She’d never seen eyes quite like his. They were turquoise and intense. There was almost an animal magnetism to his gaze, that of a stalking beast homing in on its prey, a wild animal running through the night, a man gazing into the soul of a… Annette coughed lightly, stopping her thoughts as she discreetly shifted her hips in her seat. Now was definitely not the time to begin a full-blown sexual fantasy. This time when Jurgen glanced back at her, his expression had changed. It was the same look he’d given her in the bar right after she started crying. Fear? Protectiveness? “Miss Rowe, buckle up. Now!” Frantic, she did as he instructed, glancing around the eight-person aircraft, suddenly feeling closed in. The realization of just how small they were compared to the storm struck her just as the plane was jarred left and then quickly back to the right. Her head hit the window and her vision blurred. She looked out the thick plastic and for split second, through the darkened clouds and lightning, she could have sworn she saw a man with black hair clicking his fingers and winking at her. That was impossible. She blinked hard, peering into the darkness, but she didn’t see the apparition again. Her thoughts jumbled and she felt something warm and wet oozing down the side of her face. “Mayday, mayday…this is…” Jurgen’s voice faded away and everything came to a stop. Annette blinked, assuming she was dead and lying at the bottom of the ocean. She wasn’t. Peering out the window, she saw sand. Lots of it.

“You all right?” Jurgen scrambled from his seat, making his way back to her. The plane had tipped over on its side, leaving him to walk along the wall. His heart leapt to his throat as he saw the blood dripping down Annette’s temple. Her big blue eyes were wide with fright and her creamy skin now seemed paler, no doubt from shock. He went to her, instantly reaching to free her from the seat belt. His shifter senses were on overdrive due to the fresh blood. It didn’t help that the little strawberry-blonde woman had managed to get under his skin in a way no woman ever had before. At first, he assumed it was because she was demanding and arrogant. Then, after spending an entire night memorizing her curves while refusing his body the one thing it wanted most, he had a sneaking suspicion his interest in her was something else altogether. Even now, after he’d just run his plane into the ground, he was captured by the way her white blouse fit snuggly against her ample breasts and how her hips moved as she pushed out of her seat. A surge of anger flashed through Jurgen at being stupid enough to put her in harm’s way when all he’d wanted to do was protect her. A damn good pilot with an impeccable record, he wasn’t sure what had happened. All he knew was they were in the air one minute and on a beach the next. “Miss Rowe?” He touched her chin lightly, drawing her eyes back to his. She smelled lightly of rose perfume with a hint of feminine cream. The deliciousness of it thrust his naturally hot libido into overdrive. “Are you all right?” She didn’t respond. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Still, she said nothing. Her bottom lip trembled and Jurgen gave in to the urge to lean forward. He pressed his lips lightly to hers and his entire body felt as if it were going up in flames. Her lips parted with a gasp and he seized the moment to slip his tongue in. A low rumble moved up from deep within him as his tongue eased around hers. Never had a kiss driven him this wild or put the shifter side of him so close to the edge.

Cupping her face gently, he tipped his head, allowing better access to her delectable lips. He searched her mouth, committing it to memory, savoring the taste. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth, striking a perfect rhythm with hers. The stronger smell of her arousal filled his head and he wanted to take things further, but concern for her well-being stopped him. He broke the kiss slowly and smiled as he found her eyes shut and her lips parted. Jurgen kissed the tip of his finger, wetting it with the naturally healing saliva, and pressed it gently to her temple. Her blue eyes fluttered open and she drew in a deep breath. She blinked and did something that shocked him. She slapped him. Hard. “I told you,” Annette wobbled as she stared up toward the door, “I don’t like to be called sweetheart.” Jurgen rubbed his cheek lightly and a surge of relief swelled through him. If she was alert enough to slap him, she would be fine. “You kissed me!” she yelled, as if the fact only now sunk in. He licked his lips. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart,” he said, unable to help himself, knowing she didn’t like his choice of a pet name for her. “I was there.” “Why?” she asked, no longer looking upset with him but rather curious. “Somebody needed to.” He watched as she geared up to smack him again. He caught her wrist and held it with care. She stared up at him, her blue eyes misting over. “What happened? How did we end up…here?” “Sweetheart, I don’t even know where here is, but I intend to find out.” Jurgen released his grasp on her wrist and much to his surprise she took hold of his hand. “Let’s climb out of here. I need to assess the damage and see if the radio still works. You going to be all right to climb out?” A slight nod and a squeeze of the hand later and she released him. “Yes, but only if you go out there first.”

Chapter Three Vaclar was pretty darned proud of himself, though even he could admit that finding suitable matches was harder work than he first thought. Luckily, the couple he’d found were already together. He’d been forced to call in a favor from the god of thunder. Vaclar always knew those pictures taken back in Paris during the early 1900s would come in handy. The god of thunder could hardly refuse the request. A slight rerouting of a plane and “smash”, they were crash-landed safely on his island paradise. Now all they had to do was have sex, fall in love—simple as that. As far as finding the couples went, it didn’t hurt that he had inside knowledge of where Bogdan had hid naked sketches of Venus inside a few of the archived scrolls. It wasn’t as if everyone and their brother didn’t own a version of her naked in some form but Bogdan prided himself on exemplary behavior. Storing scrolled pornographic material wasn’t seen as career enhancing by any means. Vaclar merely hinted at the hidden god porn and Bogdan turned several shades of red, walking away to leave Vaclar enough time to sneak a peek at the Pleasure Cruise’s future roster. Of course, he’d stolen the first couple’s names from the roster of those destined to meet on future Pleasure Cruises before Bogdan returned, interrupting his search. The keeper of the records had been sent to fetch the scrolls for the Powers That Be. So, admittedly, Vaclar shouldn’t have been “borrowing”, but really he didn’t have time to scan the world for matched pairs. The Powers That Be had done the footwork and Vaclar would take care of the rest, pleading innocence if anyone asked why his couples were also on the list. As soon as the scrolls were back, he’d get his next couple. And, since the scrolls and Bogdan were otherwise indisposed, Vaclar had no reason not to give in to temptation and run toward the beckoning thighs of the daughters of Talisgon. Vaclar shucked out of his jeans without touching them, using a bit of his new power allotment to make them fall at the side of the bathing pool. Seven young, naked daughters of Talisgon stared up at him with mischief in their eyes. “Now, ladies. There is only one of me.” He thought about cloning himself so he could fuck them all at once but quickly dismissed the idea. Such a feat would use up another year’s worth of rations. “Then hurry up and get in before our father finds out we’re here,” one of them said, her fiery red hair piled high upon her head. Her breasts bobbed on top of the water as she made her way over to him. Vaclar had never bothered to learn their names. He only wanted one thing from them and they from him. It wasn’t the first time they’d played the dangerous game of sneaking sex in before their father could find out. It wouldn’t be the last either. Not if Vaclar had anything to say on the matter. He smiled as he tossed his shirt aside and dove into the bathing pool. A virtual sea of breasts, ranging in sizes from the delectably small to the fuckably large surrounded him. Coming up next to the buxom redhead, he yanked her to him. She giggled and thrust her chest upward. Her nipples were long and pebbled. “Mmm, how about I start with you?” he murmured, kissing the mounds of her breasts as he palmed them. “Oh, how come she always gets to go first?” a slender blonde pouted. “Don’t worry, dear heart, I’ll have plenty left for you. Why don’t you make sure my spot is nice and warm? You know I don’t like to have to wait.” The blonde giggled and he saw her hand between her thighs, warming her pussy for him. Vaclar turned back to the redhead’s breasts. They were soft, warm and welcoming, as he already knew her pussy would be. “I’ll play with these in a minute. First things first.” He slipped a hand between her legs and eased his fingers through her thatch of hair, finding the spot he wanted to meet. Her cunt was hot and slick. “I see you’re ready for me.”

***** This is the life. Keoni Finau closed his eyes, happy not to have any customers on his boat for once. He loved the sea, loved being a charter fisherman, but after a long run of novice fishermen and inexperienced businessmen trying to show off for their fellow travelers, he was ready to be alone on the waves in his prized possession—The Obsidian Lady. Taking a long pull of the cold bottle of beer, he sighed, his thoughts running to the hot little tourist who had managed to make his dick hard every time she frowned at him. Since all she did was frown at him, his cock was pretty much erect every time he was around her. Thankfully, he’d finally found some peace and quiet, setting down anchor out a ways from the shore so he could ensure he would not have to look at her one more second. The fishing rod in his hand bobbed with the motion of the waves lapping the sides of the luxury fishing vessel. Nothing was around for miles. Just him and the other creatures of the sea. Keoni closed his eyes, dozing in the sun as the smell of the salty sea air washed over him. He’d grown up in the ocean and on the islands of Hawaii, but now lived in Key West, running charters with his boat. Starting his own business had been the smartest move he’d ever made. Someday, when he saved enough money, he planned to buy several more boats and start a fleet of them back home in the islands. Mm, someday, but not today. Today he was just going to float and fish and get another beer.

“Ahhh!” The loud feminine scream was followed by a great big splash. Keoni opened his eyes, springing into action. For a moment, in his relaxed mind, he thought it was one of his customers going overboard, until he instantly remembered he had no customers. He glanced around. Not a single boat marred the perfect stretch of endless sea. Hearing a sputtering, he walked along the edge of his boat half expecting to see a mermaid. A woman struggled in the water, her arms flapping wildly as she gasped for air. Not just any woman. It was her! “You!” he shouted, staring down at her as her large breasts bobbed in the water, scantily clad in what looked to be pink lace. A bra? What the hell was she doing, half naked, way out here? He grinned and suggestively lifted his brows. “Who’s stalking whom, sweet cheeks?” Her wide, olive green eyes met his and he stiffened. A long, wet stream of dark brown locks followed her. She looked terrified, her arms flailing to keep her body above water. Since he wore no shirt, there was nothing to throw aside as he dove into the cool water. He surfaced next to her, slipping his arm under hers. Keoni instantly noted how slender she felt beneath the darker water, almost too slender to have such luscious breasts. The water didn’t frighten him as it did her. In fact, to him the sea held as little mystery as land did. His father’s people lived both on land and in the ocean. They were sea people, ocean walkers, or more commonly known as merfolk. No, they didn’t grow tails or have fins, but they could breathe water and navigate the ocean as easily as walking on land. Their vision cut through water as if it were no more than air. They were drawn to the water, understood it, loved it as it loved and cared for them. As he swam with the woman toward his boat, he felt the soft globe of her breast against the back of his hand. Keoni suppressed a grin. A breast had slipped out of her lacy bra and now floated along the water’s surface. His cock instantly hardened. One of the effects of being in the ocean was a headier sense of emotion. Passions were quick to stir, as was anger. In the sea, his moods shifted as fast as the changing tides. “H-help,” she stuttered belatedly. “F-face in the water. Smiling face…a man. He winked at me.” “I’ve got you,” Keoni soothed, wondering if one of his kind had played a trick on her. The last he knew no other sea people were around this area. “Nothing is in the water but us and some fish. Grab on to the rail and pull yourself up.” He got ready to push, but watched as she pulled herself onto the side with surprising strength for one so small. She clung to the rail, not making it completely over. Keoni pushed up from the water, easily maneuvering over the side like he’d done thousands of times before. “Let me help you,” he said, slipping his hand under her arm. “What are you doing on my boat? Where were you even hiding? I’ve been all over the vessel since setting out this morning.” “I wasn’t on your boat,” she said, sounding more stunned than he was. “I was swimming.” Suddenly, the boat jerked, like hitting an embankment beneath the ocean floor when he knew there wasn’t one anywhere near where he fished. He was pitched backward, taking her with him. Her soft body landed on his, her naked breast pressing to his chest. He felt the pucker of her nipple against his sensitive skin and inhaled deeply. “Are you an ocean walker?” he asked, hopefully. His body heated and he had no intention of letting go too soon. It had been a long time since he’d been with a female of his kind. If she was like him, she too would be aroused. It would explain why she splashed around to get his attention. And who was he to turn down a pretty lady who wanted his attention?

One minute Christy Seabrooke was diving headfirst into the clear ocean from the dock near her resort and the next thing she knew, it felt as if a hand was pulling her under as she sucked in a mouthful of salty brine and found herself nowhere near the shore. Not only that, the surfer-bum hottie who had been making her stay nearly unbearable was suddenly there, staring down at her. It seemed like wherever she went while on vacation, she bumped into him. At first, she blew it off to chance. Then she’d flat-out accused him of stalking her. Of course, she panicked when she breached the ocean’s surface to find herself stranded near his boat, of all things. Who wouldn’t? Until that moment, her sanity had never been put into question. Well, not in any way that mattered. Her ex-boyfriend said she was crazy because she refused to marry him. Yeah right, like she’d marry some chronically unemployed drummer in a band that still played in Mommy’s garage at the age of thirty-four. No. Thank. You. Besides, she didn’t love him and only used him for his tight abs and willing cock. Thanks to medical marvels, casual sex was now socially acceptable—to most, anyway. There were still some puritans out there pushing the Virgin Now movement, but it wasn’t a belief Christy subscribed to. The way she looked at it, the higher powers gave her a healthy sexual appetite for a reason and who was she to throw away such a gift? Besides, it would take a medical miracle to make her a virgin again. Feeling warm flesh shift beneath her, she let loose a deep breath. Her limbs shook, her body still in shock over the coldness of the ocean water. As his words sunk in, she frowned. “Ocean walker?” “Never mind, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He gave her a lopsided grin and she became aware of his tight, heated body beneath hers. His soft accent reminded her of her trip to Hawaii, as did the look of his features and the beautiful shade of his skin. She’d bet anything he came from there or

from some Polynesian island. Stark blue eyes looked at her, as if it was the most normal situation in the world. Brown dreads were pulled back from his face into a thick ponytail bound with a strip of cloth. A trim goatee covered the bottom edge of his chin, framing the squared jawline. “What is going on here?” she insisted. He smelled like the ocean. The muscles beneath her were toned, but not too bulky. And then she felt it, the unmistakably thick press of his cock beneath the thin layer of swim trunks between them. She gasped, pushing up from him with an expression of shock. “Look, I’ve worked with magicians who could do some downright wizardly magical stuff, but this is too much. What did you do to me? Why am I here? Did you conjure a piece of ass?” “What?” He gave a small laugh, rolling up to a sitting position. His arms rested on his knee. Black tattoo work covered one shoulder and arm, dipping forward on his chest, to extend just past his nipple. Where the ink didn’t mark, his skin was left to show through and it was those light spots that created the intricate patterns of the design. Perfectly symmetrical, the design added to her belief of his Polynesian heritage. “You heard me,” she said forcefully. “Did you conjure me here to ease your lonely sailor boy…?” Her words trailed off as she gestured to his obvious arousal. “Ah, you’re the one half dressed with your tit hanging out.” He laughed. Christy made a loud screech of horror, turning her back to him to check her bra. Her breast had fallen out of the top. For a moment she’d forgotten the fact that her swimsuit top had never made it back from the resort’s laundry service. The maid seemed to snag every piece of clothing Christy left on the floor, taking them to be cleaned. Instead of putting her vacation on hold while waiting for the resort to right the mistake, she decided to take a swim in her bra and panties. If the resort didn’t appreciate it, they could replace the lost swimsuit. Doing her best to stuff her breast back into the thin lace barrier, she said, “I was swimming at the resort.” The man stood when she turned back around. He was taller than she would have thought at nearly six foot four. His blue and white swim trunks slung low on his trim hips, showing the start of hair running down toward his erection. “Can you send me back now?” she asked. “You want me to magically transport you to the docks?” He gave a short laugh and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’ve been called a god amongst men, but you flatter me.” Christy arched a brow and started to cross her arms. Seeing how his eyes automatically went to her breasts, she dropped them to her sides. His voice lowered. “How about you tell me why you stowed away on my boat? If it was to get to know me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to keep sneaking around all week, spying on me and then accusing me of doing it to you when I caught you.” She gasped. “I didn’t stow away and I was not spying on you!”

Nowhere but in my wild, sexy dreams! Shut up, head. You’re not helping. Christy continued, “I was on the dock, outside the resort. I dove in and the next thing I know, I’m drowning in a sea of crazy. If my nose didn’t burn from the salt, I’d think I was dead.” “Wait a minute, what the—?” The man hurried to the side of the boat. “My boat! Shit!” He leapt over the side. That’s when Christy noticed they no longer moved. In fact, they were no longer in water. “My boat!” the man yelled in frustration. “What the hell? Where did all this sand come from? I was in the middle of nowhere. In water!” Christy was slower to climb over the side. The boat looked as if the hands of the gods had just picked it up and sat it down on the banks of an island. The sand, except for where their feet hit, was relatively undisturbed. Certainly no signs of the boat gouging a path ashore. Old trash, partially buried, littered the beach, leading out to the ocean about ten feet off. “If the ship were grounded, wouldn’t there be drag marks?” Christy bent, looking again to be sure she hadn’t missed them. “You’d think,” he snapped, walking in circles around his boat as if doing so would give him the answer. “What the hell?” “You can quit saying that, it’s not helping,” Christy said, trying to remain calm. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll admit, when you first started rambling about falling into the ocean, I thought you had to be a liar or nuts, but now I see something weird is really going on here. Boats just don’t jump ten feet onto land without help.” There were several things she could say to that comment, but she let it go. Instead, she looked around for whoever had left the trash. The beach was empty. “Where are we?” “I don’t know but I do know these waters don’t look like Key West.” The man walked toward the shore, cupping his hand over his eyes to study the sea. “Honestly, I have no clue. Maybe we are dead.” “Don’t say that,” she commanded. “I can’t be dead. I’m too young. I have stuff to do. Lots of stuff. What did you get me into?” He arched a brow in her direction, before again looking around.

“Listen, don’t these boats have navigational systems and walkie-talkies? Why don’t you just radio in the cavalry to come and get us?” “I have GPS tracking so they can find us, but nothing so we can find us. There’s a radio belowdeck.” “How can you not have something that tells us our position?” “It’s a charter boat. I have the latest electric fish finders to show us the topography of the bottom of the ocean and a brand-new stereo and speakers for customers. When I’m out on a job and don’t check in, one of my employees will come out to find us.” Then under his breath, he added, “It’s not like I can afford every gadget under the sun. Not everyone can be rich like you, sweet cheeks.” Christy again chose to ignore him. Fighting wouldn’t do them any good. “Then won’t someone come looking for you now?” She glanced over the golden sands. They reflected the sun like tiny diamonds, stretching along the shore for what had to be miles. Inland, the sand turned to an outcropping of stone before disappearing into a lush forest. Maybe the island they were on was inhabited. “Not on my day off and not when I forgot to tell everyone I was going.” He cursed again, kicking at the sand. “And they’re definitely not coming to search for us here.” “I’m telling you, there are magicians who can do this sort of thing. I’ve seen them.” Christy thought of her ex, Brady Carlson, but quickly shook the thought away. The man was just vindictive enough to try a stunt like this—if he could. However, if the man could afford to pay a supernatural to use magical powers, he’d have done so to zap his rock career into existence. Other than that, no one hated her this much. “I have no enemies, so what did you do?” “I’m a fishing boat captain,” Keoni said blankly. “Do you think I’d make a lot of powerful enemies? The only one I could have pissed off was the god of the sea and I’m pretty careful to stay on his good side. He would have the power to do this.” Christy gave a nervous laugh. Supernaturals she could accept. They were out there, known, but she didn’t really hang in those social circles. But old Greek and Roman gods? If the supposed gods existed, wouldn’t they have come forward by now? “Right. God of the sea. Okay. Well, why don’t you just climb aboard your little boat here and try to radio for some help? Maybe, if you’re lucky, the god of the sea will show up with a tugboat.” “I didn’t say I saw him or anything, but ask any fisherman—there is a presence in the water,” he defended. “They’re called fish.” She wondered why she felt the need to press this man’s buttons. Her gaze traveled down over his firm, muscular body. She wanted to press a lot more than his buttons. Cream gathered between her thighs. Her bra and panties were wet from her ocean tumble, but the warm air and bright sun were doing their best to dry them. She became aware of how exposed she was to him, to the elements. “And, by the way, my boat isn’t little.” She gave a slight smile. No matter where she was, men always seemed to be protective of their vehicles. Seeing his eyes on her breasts, she crossed her arms in front of her to hide them from view. The action only pressed her cleavage together. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra tshirt or even a robe, would you?” “I’ll see what I can find. Why don’t you come in out of the sun and I’ll try radioing for help. If anything, maybe we can find someone who can tell us what’s going on here.”

Chapter Four “Mayday, mayday, this is the Captain Jurgen Cuyper. We’ve crash-landed on a remote island. Coordinates unknown. Can anyone hear me? Come in, please.” Vaclar rolled onto his stomach, relaxing on the beach as two warm hands massaged his naked length. The naked woman couldn’t hear a thing but the music he pumped into her brain with a simple push of magic. The trick was handy when he was up to his mischief. Lifting the handheld unit he’d materialized to answer the endless bout of radio calls from the marooned couple, he frowned. Couldn’t they think of anything better to do on his island than sit in their wrecked vehicles screaming for help? “This is Captain Jurgen Cuyper. Come in, please,” Jurgen’s voice repeated. Now couple number one was in on the whole distress-call thing. If he ever had to do this again, he was so going to disable their communications devices. Ah well, live and learn. The buxom redhead’s hands slid along his ass, kneading his muscles. Feeling a bit puckish, he materialized a waitress, bespelling her as well. She carried a tray to him with a martini and a bunch of grapes. Plucking a juicy bulb off the vine, she slipped it into his mouth, smiling prettily. Into the handheld, he said, “Captain Jurgen, this is—” He purposefully let the transmission go completely staticky, before adding, “How many are there and is anyone hurt?” “Two, and we’re fine, just stranded.” “Glad to hear it.” Vaclar used his most serious voice, as he said pretty much the same thing to the pilot that he’d told the sea captain. “We have several aircrafts down right now. Your location is being logged and we’ll get to you as soon as we can. I advise enjoying the beach and having plenty of sex while you wait. That’s what I plan on doing.” “I’m sorry? What did you say? Please re-advise, you cut out,” Jurgen said. “Repeating, I advise finding shelter. It could be several days before we get to you. Stay put. Do not try to leave the island. I repeat, do not leave the is—” Vaclar ended the transmission in a stream of endless static and tossed the handheld aside, grinning. This little idea of his was proving an interesting diversion. He’d never played matchmaker before and watching couples fuck was one of his favorite pastimes aside from being a thorn in the Powers That Be’s backsides. He rolled onto his back, calling forth the wind to blow the sand off his towering cock and naked frame. The massaging hands instantly moved over his thighs, working up over his cock. He groaned, opening his mouth so the waitress could continue to feed him the grapes. His masseuse used both hands to stroke him, twisting them up and down his thick length. Vaclar joined his hands behind his head. The woman knew just how to pump her fists and he found himself jerking to release on her fingers.

***** Annette pushed up from her seat, her body achy but everything in working order as she made her way toward Jurgen who was spinning a line of obscenities at the plane. Somehow, he’d managed to pull the wing down, leveling the aircraft out. She’d been too shaken at the time, taking in their surroundings, to notice how exactly he’d accomplished that feat. “The radio has gone dead,” he said, confirming what she suspected. “I did get someone, but it was hard to hear everything he said. From what I could make out a lot of planes went down and we’re on some sort of rescue list. Whoever answered the distress call was clearly an amateur. Let’s hope the trained personnel are out looking for downed crafts. It could be a matter of days or weeks, that is if they know where we are. The dispatch didn’t ask for a location. I don’t know, maybe they tracked us before we went down.” “Then we’re not much better off than we were,” she grumbled. Annette glanced at the open door and headed that way. “At least they know we’re out here. That’s something.” Jurgen touched her hip, leaving her body reacting to him in ways it shouldn’t. “Don’t go far,” he commanded, moving his hand as if she’d burned him. Annette huffed and shot him a nasty look as she climbed out of the plane. Her heels sank into the sand and she kicked them off. Sand squished between her toes, easing up and over her pedicured feet. The plane was partially shaded under the canopy of trees that sat directly in front of it. Had the plane gone any farther in its landing, they would have struck them for sure. The sight of how close they came to certain death made her shudder. She took another step and fell forward, catching herself but tearing her skirt up the side. Annette wiped sand from her hands and stared around. There was nothing but ocean in one direction and dense foliage in the other. She glanced back toward the plane to find Jurgen there, removing his shirt. Her mouth watered as she watched his muscles ripple. Tattooed bands circled his biceps. She’d always been a sucker for a man with tattoos. Her ex-boyfriend Frank had none.

Jurgen turned and her eyes fixed on the light dusting of hair that started below his navel, disappearing under the top of his loose-fitting tan pants. “Miss Rowe,” he said, his tone light. Her gaze slid to the bulge in his pants and her inner thighs tightened. Never had she seen a man so “gifted” before. He was bigger than the vibrators she’d bought before leaving on the trip and that was damn hard to beat. Clearing his throat, he caught her attention. “Miss Rowe?” “What?” Her gaze snapped upward as her cheeks flared with heat. “Annette. My name is Annette. Miss Rowe sounds too…” She shrugged. A sly smile spread over his ruggedly handsome face. “Anne, do you have any shoes that aren’t spiked and three inches high?” Anne? The only person who ever called her that was her cousin. Annette almost corrected him but realized she liked hearing him call her Anne— especially when he smiled like that as he said it. “No. All I have are heels. Oh, wait. I might have a pair of sandals in one of my bags, for by the pool.” Jurgen mumbled something about pools and the ocean before disappearing into the plane. Calling after him, she said, “You know, when I was little, I’d have sworn something supernatural was at play here.” “Why?” His voice came from inside, slightly muffled. “You don’t like supernaturals?” “I don’t dislike them. Truth be told, I really don’t know any. I know they exist. I know there are small, close-knit clusters of them spread around the world but I haven’t actually come into contact with them. It’s sad when you think about how small the world is now and how ignorant humans are to so very many things,” Annette said loudly so he could hear her. She liked the sound of his voice. It comforted her. “Like if we don’t understand it, we persecute it then wonder why it strikes back. Not that I’m saying they’re violent or anything. I’m just talking.” Too much. She sighed. “Want me to shut up?” “No,” he called out. “I’m interested in your views.” “When my cousin Christy and I were little, we’d dream up theories about them. I think we’ve always kind of had supernatural envy.” If she wasn’t mistaken, she heard him chuckle in response. Annette glanced around the quiet beach. The sound of ocean waves lapped up on the shore, but there were no birds and no insects from what she could detect. Odd. Jurgen was gone for a few minutes before Annette realized what he was most likely doing. Going through her bags to get her sandals for her. Her pulse sped as she raced toward the door of the plane. She entered just in time to find Jurgen holding a purple butt plug in one hand and package of cock rings in another. He lifted a brow. “These for by the pool too?” “No. What? No!” He smiled. “You like having things rammed in your ass?” Shocked by his words, Annette took a step back and answered the only way she could think to. “Yes.”

What? Why in the hell did I say yes? “I mean, no.” Her face felt as if it would burst into flames from embarrassment. “I’ve never had anything…well, I haven’t done that yet.” Jurgen grinned. “Yet?” “How is this your business?” His gaze darkened. “Gorgeous, we’re stuck until help comes. We’re all we have so that makes it my business. Don’t tell me you’re not wet for me. I can smell it on you.” Her mouth pressed into a straight line. Jurgen appeared amused by her reaction. So much so that he eyed the cock rings. “You’re going to need bigger ones if you’re expecting me to wear these.” The thick thread of sexual tension hung in the air. Annette tried to ignore it, to push thoughts of what it would be like to be taken by a real man from her mind. It didn’t work. His demeanor changed, seeming almost untamed as he tilted his head, sniffing the air. He dropped the cock rings and clutched the seatback.

His fingers dug so deeply the leather ripped but Jurgen paid it no heed. Annette wanted to whimper at the sheer sight of him appearing so ravenous for her. No man had ever looked at her like he’d die without possessing her. Desire strummed through her body, usurping all else but the yearning for him to be the man to teach her things she wanted to know. Something flickered in his gaze and, for a moment, Annette could have sworn his eyes shifted to a deeper shade of turquoise. Whatever happened, it jarred her enough to allow her to regain some impression of control. “Did you find my sandals or not?” she asked, humiliated with herself. “Oh, I found them and I found…” he reached into her bag and pulled out one of her vibrators, “this and…” Annette tried to dive over him to get at her bag of toys, but her feet slipped. He was stronger and faster than her, catching her before she fell hard against the plane floor. She suddenly found herself on her hands and knees with Jurgen behind her, his arm slung around her waist and the hard press of his rigid cock against her ass. She hissed as his erection slipped between the cleft of her ass, causing moisture to flood her sex. Her torn skirt no longer covered her backside, leaving only the lace thong panties she wore exposed to him. Jurgen rubbed his cock against her, leaving her clawing at the aisle floor. “So tell me, gorgeous, do you really like things shoved in your ass?” She whimpered, unable to think clearly with him as close as he was. She heard him rummaging through her bag and shivered. Slipping a finger under her thong, he traced his way to her anus and pushed it in. The slick feel of the tingling lubricant she’d bought eased his way. Annette stiffened, constricting on his finger. He nipped at her shoulder. “This ass is untouched. At least until now, that is.” “We can’t…we don’t know…” “Baby, the minute I spotted you I wanted to do this, and from the vibes you’ve been letting off since then, you’ve wanted it too. Haven’t you?” “Y-yes.” “Then I vote we celebrate the fact we’re still alive.” He pressed his finger into her more. “By fucking the living hell out of each other.” “Oh gods,” she panted, rocking against his finger, enjoying the feel of the intrusion. He added his other hand to the mix, finding her clit and working it as well as dipping a second wet finger into her ass. This was too much. She’d never been so bold with a man, let alone a man she’d only just met. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to stop but her body picked then to near culmination. Her stomach tightened, as did the hold her dark channel had upon his fingers. It was his turn to moan. Looking over her shoulder, Annette met his turquoise gaze, captivated with the look in his eyes. Feral. Fierce. Jurgen leaned forward, putting their mouths close to one another. Annette let out a shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering shut as their lips made contact once more.

Focus. You’ve just survived a horrible ordeal and you’re… “Ooo.” She tensed as his fingers were replaced by something cold and hard in her ass. It took Annette a minute to realize it was the butt plug he’d been holding. Her body fought against it for a moment before easing, allowing pleasure to build once more. Jurgen smiled against her lips. “You like that, don’t you?” Nodding, Annette tongued him again. Gods, the man tasted divine. The minute he went for the top of his shorts, she tensed. “S-shots? Are you up to date on your shots?” He lifted his brows, gave the slightest of nods and continued undoing himself. “I’ve wanted to do this for days—from the moment you walked into my life wanting a pilot.” Annette squirmed against the feel of the butt plug in her ass. Jurgen took hold of his cock with one hand. He wasted no time, offering no frills as he thrust into her ready pussy. He rammed so hard his low abs struck the butt plug along the base to send an intense wave of pleasure throughout her ass and sex. She screamed, partially from the pain of having something the size of Jurgen within her and partially from the thrill of it all. Never before had she felt so alive, and the irony that it took almost dying to bring her to the point wasn’t lost on Annette. She tried to move forward, wanting to get away but stay all at the same time. It made no sense. Nothing about what she was doing did.

That was part of the allure. Jurgen thrust wildly. She clawed at the aisle floor, her body shaking with need. She was so close to coming. So close to bliss.

Jurgen took hold of Annette’s hips, yanking her back as he thrust forward. A niggle in the back of his mind started but he ignored it, focusing on the task at hand—fucking the beautiful woman on her hands and knees before him. Gods, she was divine. Seeing her ass pucker around the butt plug, her tight cunt grasping his cock, was nearly his undoing. He wanted to explode. He was better than a randy boy getting a piece of ass for the first time. Hell, his bedroom abilities were something women praised him about. Yet here he was, struggling to keep from coming when he’d really just started. Annette felt so good. Her pussy clung to his shaft, drawing it back in, demanding more of him. Gritting his teeth, Jurgen tried to clear his head of any thoughts. Annette’s upper body went down, touching the cabin floor, tilting her ass upward, deepening his angle. Jurgen roared, slamming into her so hard he moved her forward slightly. Yanking her back to him, he continued, his cock throbbing. He reached around and rubbed her clit. Annette tensed and then screamed out his name. “That’s it, gorgeous. Come on me.” And she did. Jurgen slammed into her, holding firm as seed jetted forth from him. His body shook with the intensity of it all. There was something about the woman before him. Something he was afraid to think deeper on. He concentrated on her. On how amazing it felt to be within her. She panted, putting her forehead to the floor. “Ohmygod, that was…it was…” “Not over yet,” Jurgen responded, withdrawing from her before slowly easing the butt plug from her ass. Annette whimpered. “Not over? I can’t possibly take any more right now.” Concern lanced his chest. “Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?” She twisted around, taking a seat before him in the cramped area. Her gaze met his. “It was rougher than I’ve ever had before. Yes.” “Anne, I’m sorry. I should have been more careful with you. You’re human and—” Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t done talking before you interrupted. I was trying to tell you that it may have been rougher than I’ve ever had but it was also the best I’ve ever had.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why did you point out the fact I’m human? That’s not something another…” She gulped. “You’re not human, are you? Your eyes. I thought I saw them shift before. I wasn’t imagining that, was I?” “No. I’m not human. I’m a were-tiger. A white tiger to be exact.” Jurgen waited for her to panic, to be sickened by the knowledge she’d allowed an animal into her body. Annette inched forward, going to her knees and putting her as close to eye-to-eye as she was going to get with him. She touched his cheek gently and Jurgen’s entire body answered. “For a split second,” she said, “you looked far away. Sad even. Why? Do you have someone else?” He tensed, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here now.” He dropped his head lightly, putting it to hers. “I thought you’d freak out about me and what I am.” A slow smile pulled at her lips. “If I admit to having major supernatural envy right now, will it make me look like less of a person?” Chuckling, he kissed her temple. “No, gorgeous. It won’t.” “Jurgen,” she lowered her voice, “I do have one issue to bring up.” “Yes?” he asked tentatively. “The floor is killing my knees. Can we find a softer place before we make love again?” Make love? Normally, the very sound of those words falling from a woman’s lips left Jurgen hightailing it in the other direction as fast as he could. Hearing Annette say them had the exact opposite effect. He pulled her even closer to him and pressed his lips to hers.

Oh, he most certainly would be making love to her again and again and again if he had any say in the matter. In fact, keeping her for all time sounded just fine to him.

Claim her. He hesitated in their kiss as his inner voice urged him to do something it never had before—take a woman as his mate. By rights, he should have been worried. Hell, terrified at the idea of strapping himself to one woman. He wasn’t. He broke their kiss and smiled. “Mmm, how about I take a seat in one of these chairs and you climb up on me. I very much want to suck on your nipples while you ride me.” He skimmed his fingers over her nipples. “You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.” “Seen a lot of them?” He pinched her nipples lightly. “I’m a smart enough man to know answering that will get me in a heap of trouble. How about we just acknowledge the fact it’s yours I’m playing with and yours I want in my mouth?” She gave him an odd look. “And after we’re rescued?” “You pushing for a ring on your finger and we’ve known each other a couple of days?” As the words fell out of his mouth, he wanted them back. She jerked free of his hold and adjusted her clothing. The hard-as-nails woman who had first solicited his services as a pilot returned. Gone was the woman who let loose, screaming his name in ecstasy. “Anne,” he whispered, reaching for her. She stared at his hand as if it were carrying something contagious. “My name is Annette.” Shit. He’d fucked up in a big way.

***** Keoni watched as Christy picked up his t-shirt from the edge of the bed. Though only a double, its mattress was thick. The boat had two staterooms. One he used as his master bedroom, as he slept on the boat most nights, and the other was for guests. Often the ladies would go lie down while the men fished and drank. Occasionally, one of his first mates would catch a couple having sex. They always pretended not to know what was going on. Thinking of it, he tilted his head. His hard cock strained against his swim trunks. Her panties hugged her ass, cut into the style of a damn sexy pair of boy shorts. The pink lace was practically transparent. Outside, he’d been able to see the subtle coloring of the dark thatch of hair guarding her pussy. As she lifted the shirt over her head, he felt a deep sense of remorse that he’d given it to her. He should have immediately hid every piece of clothing he had and made her stay in her lacy outfit. “I still can’t get anyone on the radio. Just that first guy who didn’t seem to know much,” he said, hoping to make her turn around before the shirt fell down over her amazingly large breasts. He wanted just one more glimpse of them. She turned mid-action and he wasn’t disappointed. They nearly spilled out of her bra. For the love of pussy, he wanted to throw her down on the bed and fuck her! “It’s hard to believe that there are a lot of boats marooned like we are.” “I just wish we knew how this happened,” she said. The shirt snagged on her tits as she threaded her arms in. “Maybe it was some kind of natural disaster?” “That drained the ocean and left us on a beach?” Keoni wanted to stick his cock between the big globes and hump until he squirted a necklace of his cum across her delicate throat. “It was just a theory.” She frowned, her eyes following his down to her chest. “I don’t see you offering any explanations beyond a sea god and, what is it you asked me? Was I an ocean walker? I don’t even know what that means.” “It’s nothing. Your presence took me by surprise and I just blurted the first thing that came to mind,” he dismissed. “Sailors say there are people who can navigate the water as easily as land—living in both worlds.” “Mermaids,” she nodded, though it was clear by her expression she had no idea what she was talking about. She probably thought merfolk were pretty, cartooned, half-fish women who sat around on rocks singing all day. “Regardless, the man said help was coming in a few days.” He cleared his throat, needing to change the subject. He hated the idea of lying to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth about himself. Supernaturals liked to keep to themselves for a reason. “Do you have a job or something you’ll be late for?” “I’m kind of in between jobs.” “What is it you normally do?” “I, ah…” Christy sighed heavily. “I developed this line of body products and ran my own boutique. Anyway, the products caught hold in the celebrity

circles and it took off. I sold it two months ago to a major cosmetic company because I couldn’t keep up with the demand. My cousin Anne helped me invest the money, so basically I never have to get a job again. Though, to tell the truth, it still sounds a little weird saying, ‘I’m rich’. I don’t feel any different. And to tell you the truth, I’m lost without a job to go to. I have no idea what people do all day when they don’t work eighteen-hour days.” “That’s an admirable accomplishment. I, too, own a business. My own boat charters. Soon, I’ll expand and hire more staff.” She sat down on his bed and he took a leisurely step into the room. Dark polished wood gleamed on the bedframe and dresser. The cream carpet was new and still had that fresh smell. A long, rectangular-shaped frame had been bolted over the bed, showcasing a landscape of shadowy figures picking seashells off the beach in the magenta light of evening. He hadn’t picked the picture. It came with the boat. Christy bit her lip. “So do you think it’s possible a mermaid clan of some sort did this? Out of all the possibilities, a magical being of some sort seems the likeliest of answers and mermaids could, assumedly, control the water. Everyone knows supernaturals exist, but there really should be some laws regulating them messing with our lives, you know? I can’t believe some creature sent us here and just stranded us. They’re probably watching us right now, having a good laugh.” Creature? Being a “creature” himself, Keoni wasn’t sure he appreciated the tone in her voice. Still, as her wide olive eyes looked at him, he couldn’t find the willpower to be mad about it. He’d just have to keep being an ocean walker to himself. “It’s not so bad, is it? I can think of worse places to be stranded than a tropical island. There’s plenty of bottled water in the fridge and I had a good catch earlier. So long as you don’t mind fish, we won’t starve.” “Yeah, but what are we going to do until then?” She sighed dramatically. “Lie around getting suntans?” Unable to help himself, as his libido slowly took over his mind, he said, “I wouldn’t mind watching you lie out in the sun for a few days wearing those cute little panties.” Her mouth opened in surprise and he let a slow grin spread across his features. “You didn’t think I noticed?” He took a step toward her, willing her not to put up a fight. His cock strained and if he didn’t stick it into something soon, the arousal would probably kill him. Okay, so not literally, but it felt like it could. “Of course I know you noticed. But it’s not very gentlemanly of you to talk about it,” she stammered. “How about I even the score?” Keoni’s hands went to his waist, unbuttoning the swim trunks. He pushed them down, completely naked underneath. His cock, now free of the material, sprang forward. Her eyes widened, instantly glued to his erection. She licked her lips slowly and her breathing visibly deepened. Her hips wiggled on the bed ever-so slightly. “You’re, ah…” She gulped, gesturing at his penis. “Desperate to fuck you,” he finished. “I was going to say well-endowed,” she countered. Keoni chuckled, grabbing his shaft. “It feels even bigger than it looks. Want to touch it? No one has to know how naughty you are on this trip.” “I don’t really care what anyone else thinks,” she answered. His grin widened. He liked independent women. He stepped closer to the bed, so she could reach him. “Then why don’t you touch me.” “Are your shots up to date?” she asked. He nodded. “Mine, too.” Christy reached her hand forward to touch him. He grunted. “I much rather you touch me with something else.” Her eyes darted up to his, widening. Slowly, she began to open her mouth, as if to lean forward and taste him. “I was thinking more of your breasts. They look soft.” His voice lowered to a husky murmur. Christy hesitated and he worried she might tell him no. Finally, she pulled his shirt off, dropping it on the floor. Her eyes on his, she reached behind her back and unlatched the bra. It instantly fell forward, the small material unable to keep hold on her breasts now that it was free. Glorious tits spilled forward, large and natural and seemingly bigger now that they were untamed by the sexy lace. With a flick of her wrist, her panties pooled around her feet to reveal the damp curls of her pussy. He stepped onto the stair leading up to the high bed. The height of her breasts to his cock wouldn’t work, so he ordered, “Lie back.” She did. Lashes fell heavily over her gaze. “Grab them. Pinch the nipples. Make them hard.” His breathing deepened. He’d always been a breast man and seeing this pair made him want to scream for joy. As she obeyed, he groaned. “Mm, good, that’s it.”

Keoni crawled onto the bed, straddling her waist. He leaned forward, his cock touching her warm flesh. Christy arched, instantly enfolding her breasts around his dick. He tensed at the pleasure of it, almost unable to believe that she was letting him do this. He pumped his hips, enveloped in the wonderful softness. His cock urged him to continue, but he knew she wouldn’t find fulfillment like this. Keoni drew his body down, letting his erection trail over her flat stomach. “You haven’t even kissed me,” she said, a small pout forming on her lips. Keoni didn’t need more invitation than that. He took her mouth with his, instantly deepening the kiss with all the passion coursing through his body. Their tongues met, twirling and thrusting. He slipped a thigh down between her legs, pushing them open. The heady scent of her body called to him and he found himself eager to push into her depths. The warm slit of her cunt brushed against him. He made an animalistic noise and worked his other leg between her thighs so her legs straddled his waist. Bracing his weight with one hand, he guided his cock to the wet slit. The hot depths called to him and he answered with a hard thrust. His dick stretched her wide and her pussy nearly took all of him. The tightness of her sex surprised him and he groaned, rolling his head back on his shoulders. “Ah, you’re right,” she gasped. “It feels even bigger than it looks.” He would have chuckled at her words if his body wasn’t strained to the point of near agony. Pulling out, he thrust forward once more. She took him deeper as he seated himself to the balls. Keoni grabbed a handful of breast and squeezed. His fingers ran across the hard nipple. The tight hold of her pussy gripped him as he pumped his hips, in and out, in and out, deeper and harder. Her soft cries of approval urged him on. “Ah, I haven’t been fucked like this in a long, long time,” she said. Her words made him work harder. He needed to make her forget everyone but him. She slipped her hand between them, rolling her clit beneath her fingers. His feet touched the edge of the bed and he braced his weight with his knees to keep from slipping back. “Ah, ah, right there,” she yelled. “Don’t stop. Right there.” Keoni leaned slightly to the left and she bucked hard. He grinned, as he found the sweet spot that would send her over the edge. Soon her muscles clamped down hard and her whole body tensed. Her climax gripped him and he couldn’t hold back. With a hard grunt, he came, filling her with his semen. His limbs weak, he rolled off her onto the bed so as not to crush her with his weight. A lightheaded feeling made him dizzy as he tried to recover from the intense release. Even his bones felt like melted butter. “What are you thinking?” Christy curled up next to him, her body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. She drew her hand down Keoni’s chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. “That I’m not sure two to three days alone with you is going to be enough.” When she smiled, he felt a small fluttering in his stomach.

***** Annette finished her makeshift bath in the ocean water and dressed in the clothing she’d retrieved from one of her bags. She pulled her long, wet hair from the blouse and turned to find Jurgen there. He’d wisely avoided her, giving her the space she wanted. Until now. “Yes?” she asked, her gaze hard. He lifted her and held her with his arms out. “I’ve been doing something thinking.” “Was that a tremble I felt go through the island?” He grinned. “A joke. I like that.” She huffed. Jurgen increased his grip on her waist. “Any other woman I’d let be pissy with me and pout.” “I am not—” He cut her off. “I’d let them throw a fit and do whatever, but you…dammit, woman, I can’t stand the idea of you being upset with me.” She gave him a pointed stare. “What? Your dick need to be scratched again?” He growled. The sound scared her. Jurgen closed his eyes a moment and exhaled slowly. “I’d never hurt you, Anne. I just need to fix this between us.”

“We’ve only known each other a couple of days,” she said, spinning his words back at him. “There is nothing to fix.” “Look me in the face and tell me you believe that line of bullshit.” She had every intention, but the words wouldn’t come. Glancing around, she soaked in the sight of the island and the downed plane. “This didn’t happen by accident, did it?” He drew her closer to him. “No, gorgeous. But whoever or whatever is behind it is getting a hell of a thank you from me when it’s all said and done.” Done. The word lingered. If they were rescued he’d be out of her life for good. She shouldn’t have cared one way or the other but she did. More than she’d cared about anything in her life before.

A man like him won’t want a woman like me when we get back to the real world. Jurgen traced a finger over her cheek. A smile formed as he lifted one brow. “A man like me would be a damn fool to want any woman but you when we get back to the real world.”

I didn’t say that out loud. “No.” He chuckled. “You didn’t.” “How did you hear me? I didn’t think shifters could read minds of anyone outside of their own kind and their mates.” Jurgen simply continued to grin. “Are you going to answer my question?” “You didn’t really ask one and if you think about it, you answered it yourself.” She thought about what she’d said and froze. Mate. “No way.” “My people don’t really do the whole ring ceremony thing, but if you want that—” “Are you trying to tell me what I want to hear in order to get me in a better mood?” She couldn’t help herself. Her eyes dipped over his chest before sweeping back up to meet his piercing gaze. “Come on, I set up a nice little spot under the trees for us.” Annette pushed on his chest. “Why aren’t you flipping out about this? Don’t shifters mate forever?” “They do.” He shrugged. “I imagine you’ll do enough flipping out for the both of us.” He carried her as if she weighed nothing. “Now. I believe we talked about you riding me while I sucked on your nipples.” Fire raced through her body at the thought of having him in her once more. “Sound like a plan?” he asked, his drawl back. She nodded, biting her lower lip. Whatever you want, Jurgen.

Chapter Five “Is that tree sinking into the sand?” Vaclar looked from Bogdan to the short palm tree whose top was only about a foot off the ground and then back again. The record keeper had come to inspect his future legend, aka the island project. Once told of how he’d get maidens “finally” worshiping him, Bogdan seemed overeager to ensure the project was going well. Vaclar also suspected the man hadn’t completely believed him about the island and needed to see it for himself. Vaclar smiled, giving a nervous laugh. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised. My power rations are very limited. It’s all I can do to keep the couples supplied with everything they need.” “I gave you two weeks’ worth,” Bogdan said, his features looking particularly pinched in the light of the tropical sunset. “Yeah, two weeks’ worth is a lot for someone who doesn’t have duties to attend to. I’m trying to keep an island running. To do this properly, I need at least…” Vaclar pretended to calculate his request. In truth, he’d used up most of the two weeks’ rations that very afternoon. What could he say? The couples were doing their thing and he’d gotten horny watching. “At least another month’s worth.” “A month!” Bogdan sputtered. “Well,” Vaclar motioned to the sinking tree, “you wouldn’t want your legacy to fall into the ocean and drown the destined mates, would you?” Not a very likely scenario but he needed the power rations and would say just about anything to get them. “Fine. But you’ll use it strictly for repairs?” Bogdan lifted a brow. “Of course.” Vaclar nodded seriously and placed his hand over his heart. “Very well.” Bogdan sighed and a scroll materialized in his hand. He made a few notations before it disappeared. “Report back to me when this is finished and not a second later.” Vaclar grinned. “Naturally.” Bogdan frowned. “And fix that tree!” Vaclar pointed his finger at the trunk. The top branch spun in a circle, zipping up to its full height. Bogdan marched down the beach before disappearing altogether. Sensing the record keeper was gone from the island, Vaclar rubbed his hands together. “Now, where were we, ladies?” He turned and five women instantly appeared. Two waved palm leaves, fanning them by a throne. Another was chained, sitting obediently at the foot of the chair. The others held a wine pitcher and tray of food. Moving to sit, he didn’t bother to fix another thing.

***** Annette ran her fingers over Jurgen’s smooth chest. Her body was sated and she’d all but forgotten the fact they were stranded. She and Jurgen had spent hours pleasing one another, getting to know each other’s bodies. When exhaustion had finally won out, Jurgen had dragged her back against the expanse of his body and held her as they dozed off. Neither had bothered to get dressed. It seemed pointless. Jurgen planted a kiss on top of her head. “You’re awake.” “I am and no,” she licked her lips, “we can’t do it again. I need a break. You’re too much man for me.” His laugh resonated through her. “Exactly what a man wants to hear.” His hand found its way to the folds of her pussy. “You know what else a man wants to hear?” She wiggled as his fingers speared her wet core. “N-no.” Working his finger in more, he began to use his thumb to rub her clit, making her moan. “That.” He finger-fucked her more. “A happy woman.” She arched into him, riding his hand slowly. She bit lightly at his skin. The action seemed to spur him onward. He increased his pace, setting a rhythm that had her hitting her crescendo in seconds. She cried out, biting down harder on his skin, accidentally breaking it. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and she drew back from him, horrified at her behavior. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He looked out from wild eyes. His canines had lengthened. A scream lodged in her throat, caught by both fear and excitement. Jurgen had her flipped onto her back before she could blink. He plowed into her, his cock filling her completely. His actions were untamed. Powerful. Annette wrapped her legs around his waist as he drilled into her. Animalistic sounds came from the back of his throat, making her nipples harden

and her stomach flutter. She’d never been more aroused in her life. Jurgen forced his hands into the sand and she could see him straining. The cords of his neck popped and his jaw was tight. Glancing to the side, she saw why. His hands were partially shifted. Her mind thought she should at least consider panicking. Her body had other plans. It countered his thrusts as she begged him to fuck her harder. His head moved down fast and a pinching in her shoulder alerted her to the fact he’d bitten her. There was no pain. Only pleasure as he lifted her legs higher, thrusting into her. Her legs began to quiver and a tingling sensation shot upward from her toes. Annette cried out, lacing her hands at the back of his neck as her orgasm crashed over her.

Jurgen knew breaking her skin with his teeth while in the throes of passion meant he was in the process of claiming her. He also knew if he dared to ejaculate during it all, she’d officially be his mate—his wife according to the supernatural community. Completely. Forever. He knew it yet he made no attempt to stop himself when he felt his balls tightening. He thrust into her, releasing fully into her. Her cunt milked his cock. He opened his mouth and licked the bite wound on her shoulder. The healing agents in his saliva left no traces of the wound being there. Annette stared up at him with an odd expression on her face. “Are you going to go all kitty on me now?” All kitty? Jurgen glanced at his hands and instantly shifted them back to normal. He bent his head, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was passionate and his cock stirred to life once more, still buried in Annette. He smiled against her lips. “I promise not to go all kitty on you now, gorgeous.” The reality of what he’d just done came over him. He stiffened before pulling out of her and sitting back on his haunches. Annette pushed onto her elbows. “Jurgen?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Anne, we have to talk.” “About?”

Annette stared past Jurgen’s shoulder, at a tree not far from their location. “J-Jurgen?” “I couldn’t help myself, Anne. I know we started to talk about the mate thing earlier, but we never really finished the discussion. I don’t think I explained what happens. Then you bit me.” He ran his hand over his head. “The beast had a moment of complete and total agreement with the man and the next thing I know, I’m claiming you.” She barely registered what he was saying as she watched the tree that had been partially dipping into the ocean, leap upward and spin. Her eyes widened. “Jurgen! That tree, it’s spinning!” “Sweetheart?” Jurgen asked, rubbing her shoulders. “I know you’re upset with me. I understand you wouldn’t want to be tied for eternity to me but I can’t take it back. I wouldn’t even if I could.” She pressed on his chest. “The tree is friggin’ spinning! Look!” He sighed. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re in shock over being my wife. You don’t—” Cupping his face, she held tight and then twisted, forcing him to look at the tree. “The tree is spinning,” he exclaimed. “Yeah, I know!” She was about to get hysterical but stopped, his words running over her. “Claimed me? Your wife?” She stilled. “Jurgen, what are you talking about?” “How the hell does a tree spin?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus here, big boy. Explain this whole claiming thing.” His gaze remained on the tree which had finally stopped spinning and was now completely erect, no longer sinking into the sand. “How?” Annette watched him, trying to see the humor in his gaze when his eyes finally met hers. He had to be teasing her, yet the idea seemed very real. She felt him, like she’d never felt another. “I knew for sure the second you stormed away from me to bathe in the ocean that we’d been sent here to mate. My whole body ached at the

thought of you walking out of my life.” Jurgen caressed her cheek. “I bit you in the height of passion as I expelled my seed in you. You’d already bitten me. Add it all together and you get a binding, unbreakable marriage according to my kind and the supernatural community.” She blinked and shook her head. “I’m stranded and married?” Jurgen looked at her. “Yes,” he said, sounding nervous. Her hand went to his bare thigh. “You could have asked me first.” “You’d have said no and it’s not like I can really control it. You’re my mate, Anne. It wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t. I can’t claim just anybody. Only the one. The person whose fate is entangled with mine.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “The one woman who, from the moment I lay eyes on her, steals my breath and makes me want to protect her at all costs. Who makes me think about all the ways I can make love to her. All the things I want to give her. All the ways I want to take care of her. Always.” Any thoughts she had of protesting the claiming vanished. She kissed him and didn’t stop. Jurgen stood, lifting her with him, continuing their kiss. His long fingers found her cunt wet and ready. She rocked on his hand and rubbed her body to his a second before he lifted her high. She wrapped her legs around his waist, impaling herself sweetly on his cock.

***** “Keoni Finau,” Christy said, watching the firelight dance along his chest and arms. She found herself staring at his tattoo, tracing the design with her eyes. “Keoni is a beautiful name. Is it a family one?” Night had fallen, bringing with it a pretty array of stars. For most of the day, they’d laid in each other’s arms, whispering and talking like old friends. In the late afternoon, Keoni scouted the surrounding area while she stayed by the boat in case a rescue team came. He’d found no signs of civilization beyond the littered beaches. It was possible someone docked for a party and then left. For that reason, he’d built a large fire in case any passing ships happened by. Over the flames, he’d constructed a spit and the smell of cooking fish drifted over them. “Some great-uncle I never met had it. My father was Samoan and my mother a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American. She ran a hotel on Maui and he was a local surfer. They met when she found him trespassing on hotel beach property. To hear my father tell it, they fell in love the moment she yelled at him. He says he knew that very second that she was passionate enough to be his wife. They married two days later.” “Two days?” Christy asked, stunned. She wore his t-shirt and nothing else. It smelled of him and she had to resist the urge to lift it to her nose and breathe in his masculine scent. “Did it last?” “Going on thirty-six years now,” Keoni said. “There is a legend on my father’s side. They say that the men in my family know the second they have met their match.” “And have you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. There was something very poetic about the way he spoke of his family. “I mean, have you ever known?” He just grinned. “Want to hand me your plate? I think this is done.” Christy reached to her side, picking up one of the plates from the boat. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean. Handing him the dish, she moaned lightly. “I love the sound of the ocean at night.” “Yes, it is quite beautiful.” He wasn’t looking at the ocean, but at her. Hiding a blush, she nodded at his tattooed arm. “That must have taken quite a bit of time to do. Did you do that for your heritage?” “Yes. I traveled to Samoa to have it done in the traditional way. It took several trips, as the older methods take much longer. Instead of a machine, they used bone and wood, which is tapped repeatedly. Samoan culture is the only one whose government has never banned tattooing in its long history.” Keoni glanced at his arm. “To my people, the tattoo is a sign of respect—of our past, the ancient culture.” “And your parents?” “My father has a full body suit,” he laughed, “and all my mother managed to sit through was a tiny butterfly the size of a dime done with a professional tattoo machine in the States.” “I think I’m with your mother,” Christy said. “I think I’d pass out. I’ve watched them done before and have been told it’s not that bad, but…” She shivered. “Now, my cousin Anne, who really is like a sister to me, she’s tough. If anyone in my family could take it, she could—after she hovered over the poor artist for an hour making sure his station was sanitized.” “There is something I should tell you.” Keoni sounded serious and she wondered at his quick change of subject. “What?” Her heartbeat quickened. “I’m a sea person.” “Is that like a sailor? Some kind of Samoan pirate gang?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “An ocean walker. I should have told you earlier when we were talking about it, but I’m not used to sharing that part of myself with someone. Don’t

worry. Nothing’s going to happen to you and we don’t grow tails and fins or carry tridents. I can breathe underwater like it was air and…” He looked away briefly, before meeting her eyes. She saw insecurity in him and it made her heart ache. “I’m drawn to the ocean. It calls to me and if I stay away too long I get depressed.” “Well, that’s not so bad,” she said, using a fork to take a small bite of her meal. The fresh flavor was delicious and she moaned. So what if he was some ocean walker tribe who liked the water. It wasn’t so primitive of a concept. “So you like to live by the water. I can think of worse fates.” “It’s more than that. I need to live by the water. I’m moody. Ocean water touches my skin and I get temperamental, yet I need it to survive.” He didn’t move, except for the rise and fall of his chest. “My kind didn’t maroon us. We don’t have the power.” “You’re a supernatural,” she said in understanding. The truth was in the brilliant blue of his eyes. “I should have seen it earlier.” Keoni nodded. “Are you one of the immortals?” she asked. With his tall height and firm body, he looked like he could be some sort of walking god. “No, but my years stretch much longer than most humans, about twice as long. And when I take a mate, a true mate, the gods will bless her with long life as well.” Christy’s heart nearly thumped out of control. Why was he telling her all this? Better yet, why was she listening with such hopeful intensity? “Your mother is…?” “Human. My father is the ocean walker.” He studied her. “Humans, if the situation is right, can bear the children of my kind, but the children are never human. They’re ocean walkers. In the past, that instance was rare and so our numbers have dwindled. I’ve only met about twenty like me and a lot of them were family members, elders who have no children. They still pray to the gods for help. I am one of the last generations, along with a handful of cousins.” “So why not sleep around and see who you get pregnant?” Even as she said it a peculiar curling started in her stomach. “Is that what we’re doing?” “No,” he shook his head. “I did lie when I said I had my shots. The truth is, I don’t need them. I have to be mated to get someone pregnant. So, you see the dilemma. After I marry, then I will know whether or not we’ll have sons. There is no way of knowing before then.” He lifted his hand toward the sky. “It truly is up to the gods.” “So when you say moody, you mean passionate?” If it got her a repeat performance of earlier, she’d gladly grab him by his dreads and drag him into the water. “Normally I’ll want sex or I’ll want to fight. My kind is quick to temper, but mostly we yell and cuss, storm off and drink kava until the temper cools.” At that, she dropped her fork. Tears moistened her eyes. “So what you are trying to tell me is that today, that earlier, when we had sex and then lay around talking all afternoon, that was just some reaction to having jumped into the water to save me?” “Oh, hey, no.” He came to her side. “I was with you because I wanted to be. And I can attest, ocean water or not, I want you.” She wasn’t completely convinced and he must have read it in her expression. Taking her hand, he drew it between his thighs to where his arousal pressed against his shorts. “See.” Christy laughed, blinking back the tears. “Good, because I was going to have to beat you up if you said otherwise. I think today was…” She stopped short of saying “preordained”. But that’s what she felt. She felt as if she’d waited her whole life to meet him, to be with him. Maybe that’s why she’d resisted him so hard at the resort—and why she couldn’t stay away. One day in his arms and it was as if she’d found the missing half of her soul. Never, with other men, had she been so whole. “Special,” he supplied. Christy nodded. She found no reason to lie to herself about what she was feeling. Maybe it was the surreal, dreamlike situation. Perhaps it was the romantic setting, his handsome face, his piercing eyes. As she thought about it, she knew it was something more. It just felt right. Preordained. “Maybe we’re dead,” he suggested. Keoni still held her hand to his cock. “Maybe this is the afterlife. It would explain a lot.” She laughed, rubbing her fingers. “I doubt it. My shoulders feel a little sunburned. I don’t think spirits can tan.” “Hmm, perhaps you’re right. I don’t think spirits can do this either.” He leaned in and kissed her. Without thought, she set her plate aside and ran her hands along his jaw, returning the embrace. When their lips parted, she said, “What’s happening? I feel like I’ve known you years, not days. And I’m not a person to fall easily, or even at all.” His answer was another kiss, slow and passionate as his tongue explored her mouth. Christy moaned at the taste of him, pushing forward until Keoni fell onto his back in the sand. Firelight caressed them, forcing his muscles to stand out in a play of shadow and wavering orange light. She straddled him with her thighs, shivering with pleasure at the way his tight stomach stroked her already damp pussy. Sand dug into her knees, the

grainy texture at odds with his taut flesh. His eyes took on a glimmering sheen, sparkling like stars. Christy broke the kiss and pulled off the shirt, tossing it aside. Keoni grinned, his eyes on her chest. Warm palms cupped her breasts. They’d always been one of her most sensitive areas and his obsession with touching them suited her desires just fine. He growled low in the back of his throat and she angled her hips so they pushed down over his shorts. Already, his cock was full. The stiff erection fit tightly against her as he thrust up, rubbing the material between them against her clit. She wiggled on top of him, her blood coursing and her pussy aching as if she’d been without sex for a century. Christy joined her hands with his on her breasts, following his movements as she held his palms against her. Then, running her fingers down the length of his arms, she rocked with wild abandon. His gorgeous body worked beneath hers, the muscles rippling like the ocean’s surface. “Keoni,” she panted, feeling the little tremble of an impending climax. The friction of the material stimulated her clit until she couldn’t wait any longer. “I want you inside me.”

Keoni couldn’t believe how fortunate he was. Like the other ocean walkers, he’d prayed to the gods for a woman, to know her when he saw her like his father had. This woman was the one he’d been waiting for. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but in truth he’d suspected from the first moment he touched her, pulling her from the water. The memory of her straddling his waist, one perfect breast freed from her bra as she looked at him in confusion, light haloing her wet locks, would be forever imprinted on his mind. Now, as the firelight caressed her and she smiled, he knew this was another memory he’d always carry. He grabbed her hips, lifting her so he could reach his waistband of his shorts. Squirming, he managed to push them down his hips, freeing his cock. Urgently, she drew him to her, taking his cock into the soft folds of her cunt. She sank onto him, taking him deep. Keoni cried out in pleasure. She rode him hard, as desperate as he to find release. Her muscles clamped him. “Ride me harder,” he urged. A wave of possessiveness washed over him, fueled by the crashing waves. He dug his heels into the sand, letting the grainy texture caress his backside as he pushed up to meet her wild thrusts. He liked the way she fucked him, hard and eager, as if she needed him like she needed air. Perhaps someday they’d make love, slow and tender, but now the need was too urgent, too demanding. He looked at her and he had to have her. She cried out in release, her body gripping in her climax. Keoni couldn’t hold back, he released himself into her, letting her have every last ounce he had to give. And as she fell next to him on the sand, lying with him beneath the star-studded sky, he knew that he’d found his perfection.

***** Vaclar grinned from his place on the beach. Now that was what he was talking about. The naked couple fucked on the sand, their passion fueling his own as the playful fire goddess, Aliki, kneeled between his naked thighs to suck his cock. She had gorgeous red hair and eyes as gray as cooled lava. Her pale skin complemented the dark crimson on her lips. Her mouth was warmer than most, being as she was of the flame, and sinking his dick into any of her orifices was always a pleasure. She was one of the few women who could help him find release faster than most. Unfortunately for him, her temper was as hot as her cunt and she wasn’t easy to control or manipulate. But those times like now, when she succumbed to him, made every fireball she threw in his direction worth it. Full lips wrapped around his shaft and she moaned as she took him in. He kept them hidden from Jurgen and Annette’s view. He watched, enjoying the view of Jurgen holding Annette in his arms, standing tall, easing her up and down on his shaft. Annette looked to be more than happy with the position as she tossed her arms around Jurgen’s neck, tipped her head back and moaned loudly. Her breasts bounced with each thrust Jurgen made and Vaclar licked his lips, wondering if her nipples tasted as sweet as they looked. Eager to see what Keoni and Christy were up to, he waved his hand through the air, drawing his fiery temptress with him as he settled on the outcropping of rocks. The woman straddled the ocean walker’s body with hers, crying out in pleasure as she fucked him good on the dark sand. Her nice ass was to him and he grinned. Aliki bit down on his cock and he yelped. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but enough to get his attention. “What was that for?” His body leaned back on the outcropping as she kneeled on a slightly lower level of rock. Her lips slipped off his cock so she could answer. “I see your thoughts.” She glanced back. “Don’t think you’re sticking your cock in that mortal’s ass while I’m here.” Vaclar saw fire alight in her eyes and knew he’d better reassure her fast or else she’d light his ass up like a torch. “How can you even think that? What are mortals compared to you, my scorching goddess of the flame?” The fire in her eyes smoldered and the intense gray replaced it once more. He sighed. That was close. “My goddess eternal,” he said charmingly, gesturing down to his neglected cock. It was still wet from her mouth. She grinned. “Does my Vaclar want me to finish him?” He nodded, spreading his legs wider so she could come forward. She licked her finger, wetting it slowly. Vaclar groaned at the erotic sight. Aliki thrust the finger between his cheeks, moving into the sensitive rosette burned there. Her grin widened as he cried out in pleasure.

“I want you to vibrate in my mouth.” She held her hand to the side and one of the cock-shaped, rubber-coated vibrators from Annette’s bag of toys appeared. He gulped to see she’d picked such a thick specimen. She stuck it in her mouth, letting him watch her wet the toy as she had her finger, showing him how deep she could suck the thick dildo. Vaclar’s head tilted back in a wave of apprehension and anticipation. He knew Aliki wouldn’t be gentle and yet he couldn’t tell her to stop. The cock-shaped tip hit his ass, stretching his anus with the insistent pressure. Vibrations started almost instantly as she rammed it up, filling his ass even as her hot mouth encircled his cock once more. He stayed in his somewhat seated position, his ass off the edge as she fucked him and sucked him. The vibrator was warm from her heated touch and wet from her succulent mouth. It glided inside him in perfect rhythm with her mouth. Vaclar shut his eyes, giving himself over to her completely. When he came, a hot jet of his cum shot to the back of her throat and she drank him dry, leaving him feeling something he rarely had the opportunity to feel—complete gratification. Aliki rose quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I have to go. Esdras is summoning me.” Vaclar’s jaw dropped. “You’re running off to be with another god?” She gave him a smug look. “He’s the man I live with, Vaclar. Remember?” “I try my best to banish the thought from my mind. What does he have that I don’t?” With a flip of her wrist, she laughed. “A steady cult following.” Her words echoed long after she was gone.

Chapter Six Christy smiled, liking the look of Keoni’s tanned flesh as he waded through the water. He’d brought a long spear off his boat to try to catch fish. It wasn’t as if they needed food immediately, but he said he wanted to be prepared in case the rescuers didn’t come as fast as they’d said they would. The light sound of a CD played over the distance, coming from the boat. He had a great collection of tunes because of the different types of customers he catered to on the fishing trips. Keoni stopped, lifting his hands to the side, palms down as if sensing the water. “This doesn’t make any sense.” “What?” “The water feels dead. I can’t sense any sea life at all. The tide pools should be teaming with life and instead it’s just empty water.” He frowned, glancing around. “And I have yet to see a single bird. There should at least be a starfish or crustaceans, maybe even a tortoise. Yet, the water doesn’t feel polluted to justify them not being here. I don’t get it.” “Maybe you are right, maybe we are dead,” she said, worried. “I don’t want you to worry. I’ll think of something. I’ve been thinking and the boat looks intact, just marooned. If we dug a deep trench, we might be able to get enough ocean water around the boat to make it easier to pull.” Christy needlessly glanced around, as if something along the barren beach would have changed in the last ten seconds since she last looked. “I’ve been thinking about it,” Keoni continued. “There are stories of the gods coming down to Earth and messing with people. I never really put much stock in them, but it would explain what is happening—the boat being marooned so far into shore without any drag marks, the empty sea and sky, the fact that there isn’t much foliage beyond the giant palm trees and a few shrubs.” “You mean like Greek myths, that sort of thing?” “Most cultures have stories of gods walking among us. If we supernaturals exist, why not them?” He came out of the water and tossed his spear onto the sand next to her. “It could be argued that not every culture throughout history could have come up with the same stories unless there was some truth to them. Maybe the gods really do come down and meddle in our lives.” Preordained. She pushed up to face him. Since she was only five foot three, his taller height loomed over her. Christy traced her hand down his chest, following the straight edge of his tattoo. “So what do they want with us then?” she asked, not daring to look up. “I’m not sure, but I know what I want. My father was right. When I see my destiny, I know it.” He cupped her face, drawing her eyes up to meet his. “Don’t you think it’s happening a little fast?” “So? When you know, you know, right?” He leaned over, kissing her forehead. “I’ll wait for you to know it, too.” “I keep thinking I’ll wake up, but I pray that I won’t.” She lifted up on her feet, winding her hands behind his neck to pull him down. His warm lips met hers, caressing gently as he kissed her. Christy moaned. The wet legs of his shorts hit her thighs. Drawing back, she said, “Why don’t we go inside and get out of the heat?” “I’d rather get into the heat.” He laughed at her bemused look. “Come on, Casanova, we’ll go in and work on your pick-up lines.” She tugged at his arm to get him to follow her. “I don’t know.” He jerked her back so she fell into his chest. Whipping her around so she faced him once more, he lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her toward the marooned boat. “I think my pick-up lines have served me well so far.” Christy squealed, kicking her legs lightly. It only served to get her a sound smack on the ass. Her body jolted with pleasure, cream building at the playful swat. He sat her down on the edge and she swung her legs around to get inside. Keoni followed her, hopping up. She went down the stairs, heading toward his room. He stopped her, instead drawing her to the side to the main salon. A long couch dominated one wall near small windows that let in the outside light. “Would you like a drink?” He crossed to a small bar, taking out a brandy glass and setting it down. Rich, dark liquid swirled into the glass as he poured. “Please.” She nodded. Taking out a second glass, he filled it and brought it to her. She took it from him, watching him as she drank. Liquor warmed her mouth and she sighed in satisfaction. Christy sat on the couch, drink in hand. Keoni swallowed his fast before kneeling in front of her. His hands on her legs, he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“I must tell you something,” he whispered before dragging his tongue in small circles up her leg. “Another something?” She thought of his last confession, of him being an ocean walker. “I bound myself to you last time we were together. I couldn’t control myself.” “Bound yourself to me?” Christy tilted her head, taking another drink. She finished the glass. He took it from her and set it next to his empty one on the nearby end table. “It’s like mating,” he said. Keoni lifted his arm, showing her a new circular mark that had appeared as if by magic next to his tattoo. “I’m marked as yours for all eternity. I can’t undo it.” “You what?” She stiffened, pushing up from the back of the couch to better look at his face. He leaned up from her thigh at the movement. “How could you do that?” Keoni looked hurt by her reaction, but really, how else was she to react? “You are not bound to me. I’m not some werewolf that marks a woman so all others stay away. I would never force you, but I also will never lie to you again. I’m not sorry I did it. Even if the rescue team comes today and I never see you again, I’m not sorry. You are the woman I was meant for.” His hand hovered in the air before landing on her knee. “I told you, when we know, we know. You are what I’ve been waiting for.” “But…” What could she say? This was all happening so fast. She had actually sworn off men before leaving on vacation. Now she was in the middle of a strange island with no clue how she got there, looking into the brilliant blue eyes of a man she’d just met. Her heart beat hard and heavy in her chest. “What if I…?” “You’re angry with me,” he said flatly. “I shouldn’t have told you. I didn’t mean for you to feel pressured by my feelings. I understand that humans do not know these things so fast.” Christy swallowed, her mouth quivering as she tried to find the right words. “What if I want to be bound to you too?” A look of shock crossed his features before being replaced by a slow grin. “Are you sure? Once done it is forever, more binding than a human marriage.” “I think I’m sure,” she whispered, awed by her response, but even more so by the fact that she really meant it. “No. I know I’m sure. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am. I feel like my soul awoke when I saw you and somehow, I know that no matter what comes, we’ll work through it. Don’t ask me how, but I just know. Nothing in life is easy, but I want this. I want to make it work with you.” Keoni smiled and she felt as if his happiness was her own. Sure, she was still nervous, who wouldn’t be? But she was sure she was making the right choice. “Close your eyes and open yourself up to me.” Christy obeyed. His mouth brushed hers and she felt a tingling in his kiss. “Keep them closed,” he whispered. She did, opening her mouth as he deepened the kiss. His taste was addictive, flavored by the brandy. Warm palms cupped her face, holding her mouth to his. The tingling spread, filling her cheeks and neck, traveling down her body, tightening her nipples and wetting her pussy. Even her toes curled against the floor as the nerves awakened to Keoni’s nearness. Then suddenly, it entered her mind, making her lightheaded. Beneath her closed lids she saw water, an endless ocean of swaying plant life and streams of sunlight from above. Fish swam along a coral reef, their scales shimmering beautifully. The gentle pressure of the water surrounded her and she felt it inside her lungs even though she didn’t open her mouth to breathe it in. Then, off in the distance she saw Keoni swimming toward her and she wasn’t scared. She felt safe. In real life, his lips stayed locked on hers, moving erotically across her lips. In her vision, he swam to her, stopping to pull her into the safety of his arms. Underwater their lips met and her mind was filled with an explosion of colors and sensations. Keoni entered her, filling her spirit with his. She gasped, pulling away. Blinking heavily, she asked, “What was that?” “You accepting me.” He grinned. “Now when you dream it will be of me and my thoughts will be filled with you. We are bound. Forever.” “I like the sound of that.” She pulled him back, feeling his skin like never before. Every sense was heightened and aware. Never had she felt so close to another person. Keoni returned to her thigh, pressing his lips to her heated flesh. Gripping her legs, he pulled her down on the couch, so her pussy was within reach. He kissed a hot, wet trail up, letting his tongue glide over the crease where pussy met leg. “Ah!” Christy grabbed frantically at the back of the couch. His tongue probed along her clit, tracing down the folds to dip inside her cunt. He kissed deeply, sucking and licking her pussy. Teeth nibbled her clit. Keoni groaned, thrusting her knee to the side to open her wider to him. Hot, wet heat thrust up into her sex and he fucked her with his tongue. As she squirmed to have him deeper, two thick fingers replaced his tongue, delving inside her to the sweet spot. He rubbed and stroked, all the while sucking her clit like a man starved.

“Come on my face,” he growled. The look of his head moving between her legs, so intimate and seductive a sight, made her whimper. A soaked finger rimmed her anus and she jerked. He continued to rub, asserting steady pressure. His free hand delved up her shirt, grabbing a handful of breast. He pinched her nipple, sending a shock wave of pleasure along her nerves. Christy came hard against his mouth, kneading her hands into the couch. She cried out, trembling with release. Before she could recover, Keoni had his shorts and her shirt off. He turned her body so she lay on the couch beneath him. One of his feet pressed against the floor, his knee along the couch’s side as he came between her legs. He buried his face in her breasts, moaning as he shook his head back and forth. His skin was smooth as silk and as hard as marble. She ran her hands down her stomach to her pussy, parting the wet folds as she stroked her clit. Her cunt was still wet with cream. Next she took his cock in hand, fisting him the best she could in their position. “I want you inside me,” she urged, working her wet, swollen clit against his penis. She guided his cock head to spread her folds, wetting him with her cream. He thrust inside her, impaling her on his thick cock. “Oh,” she cried. “Give it to me, every last, hot, thick inch!” Animalistic noises left them both as he fucked her hard, thrusting in wild abandon. She massaged her breasts so he could watch, knowing how much he loved looking at them. Keoni lifted up, bracing his foot for leverage. He thumbed her clit. Everywhere their skin touched was alive with her passion. “I love how tight you are.” Christy grinned, aroused by the sound of his voice. She brought the foot on the floor up to his shoulder. The position allowed him to go deeper. Then, taking that foot over his head, she brought it down. Her body twisted so she still faced him, but the action closed her cunt around his cock. He grunted. “Ah, shit, that feels good.” Keoni bucked harder, slamming his body into hers. The tight muscles of his chest and stomach worked vigorously. The pressure built inside her and she closed her eyes to take in every sensation. Christy yelled with the sudden force of her all-consuming release. He, too, cried out and the connection between them grew stronger, complete. Weakly, he fell against her. “I’ve waited my whole life to feel so complete. You’ve calmed the waters of my soul.” Christy wiggled around and draped her limbs over his as they cuddled on the narrow seat of the couch. Her hand found his chest, resting over his heart. “I love you, Keoni,” she said. “I never want to leave you.” “I love you too,” he answered, pulling her tighter.

Chapter Seven Jurgen watched the sway of Annette’s hips as she bent, cleaning up not only wrappings from the food he’d had aboard his plane but some of the trash that had been on the beach upon arrival. She held another wine bottle up. “Who drinks this much?” Wisely, he didn’t comment because he’d been known to tie a few back. Okay, more than a few. “Sweetheart, come lie with me.” She glanced at him, a knowing smile on her face. “I love your ingenuity with building a hammock but there is no way I’m falling for coming to lie with you.” “Why?” he asked, adjusting his erect cock through his shorts. He grinned. “You wouldn’t be tired of me already, would you?” “Tired of you?” She snorted. “No. But I’m very aware there won’t be any type of lying and enjoying the view if I come over there.” She was right. With her, he was insatiable. He’d found lube in her bag of goodies and had been picturing his cock between her breasts as she held them together, letting him fuck them. Thinking about it nearly made him come. He spent the morning with his head buried between her legs. A sweeter woman he’d never tasted. He could still smell her scent upon him. He smiled. Annette huffed. “You have that look again.” “What look?” he asked, innocently. “The one that says you’re thinking about doing naughty things.” “Naughty?” He crooked his finger, motioning for her to come to him. She set down the empty wine bottle and approached, her eyes reflecting the hunger he felt. He wanted to kiss her but she apparently had other ideas because she tugged open his shorts, freeing his cock. It bobbed before her lips and she opened her mouth, slipping it over the head of his shaft. “Anne,” he said, his voice ragged. He slid his hands into her long hair, watching as she dipped her head, taking as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. He hit the back of her throat and growled. “Damn, woman. That’s it. Right there.” She kept going. Jurgen couldn’t help himself as he took hold of her hair, taking control of her actions, fucking her face. Annette moaned and his teeth clenched. Her mouth was so hot, so wet, so amazing around his cock that holding off his orgasm wasn’t possible. He came hard and fast. Annette sucked, swallowing his cum down before kissing the tip of his dick. “Mmm.” Jurgen sank back into the hammock, his body limp. “Sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.” She traced a finger through the thatch of hair near the base of his cock. “No, but, Jurgen,” her tone turned serious, “we will if we don’t find a way off this island. It’s been only a day but that search party they told you about still hasn’t arrived.” She was right. He’d waited until she was asleep the night before and he shifted forms, running through the jungle in search of a way off the island. It was odd to say the least. He could have sworn he spotted a man getting a massage next to a bonfire with a multitude of women surrounding him, but as Jurgen had approached, everything vanished. He’d not mentioned the incident to Annette. She was worried enough about being rescued. She didn’t need to worry her husband was losing his mind too. Husband. Jurgen grinned, liking the sound of the word more than he ever thought he would. He pulled her on top of him and kissed her thoroughly. He tickled her sides, making her laugh, doing his part to take her mind off the fact he didn’t think rescuers were coming. His cock twitched and Annette giggled. “I think he wants more attention.” “And I think,” he said, “you need to be held.” “I always thought men hated to cuddle.”

“Depends on who they’re supposed to be cuddling with.” He lifted his brows suggestively. “Besides, if I’m holding you, you can’t break your neck.” “Hey,” she screeched. “I’ll have you know there was a root in the sand. I did not just flip ass over applecart into the water.” He snorted. “Ass over what?” “Nothing.” She grinned. “Just something my grandmother says. My cousin and I have a whole bunch of her sayings embedded in our brains.” “Hmm, what do you say we take a walk together and see if maybe the rescue party is looking on the wrong side of the island? That way,” he kissed her cheek, “we can get home and I can meet your cousin. You talk a lot about her so I know she’s important to you.” Annette touched his jawline. “She is and she’s never going to believe what I did on my vacation. I can just picture Christy’s face when I tell her I not only survived a plane wreck, I got married too. Oh, and to a supernatural.” “We’re supernatural,” he corrected. Her brow furrowed. “We? I’m not.” “Sweetheart, when I claimed you, it extended your life too. I shared my immortality with you. You don’t think we’d take a mate only to have them die long before us, do you?” She fell silent and that worried Jurgen. “Anne?” When she met his gaze, he saw moisture in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” “I love you.” He sat up so fast that he accidentally tipped the hammock. They fell to the sandy ground with a thud. “Y-you love me?” Laughing, Annette wiped tears from her cheeks and nodded. Jurgen jerked her to him, hugging her tight. “I love you, too, gorgeous.” “I still think you’re arrogant.” He suppressed a grin. “You never said I was arrogant before.” “Oh.” She blushed. “Must have just thought it.” “Uh-huh.” He barrel-rolled her, putting her under him. “If we don’t go for that walk right now, I’m going to fuck these breasts of yours. They keep teasing me.” Her breath caught. “Teasing you? How?” “By existing.” Annette flashed a sexy smile. “Tell you what. When we get off this island, I’ll let you fuck my tits,” she narrowed her gaze on him, “and my ass. You talk in your sleep so I know you want it.” Jurgen couldn’t have gotten to his feet faster if he tried. He lifted Annette quickly, pulling her close before putting his cock back into his shorts. He tugged on her hand, yanking her into the jungle. “Jurgen, what are you doing?” “Getting us home so I can cash in on my prize.” Her laughter echoed all around them.

***** “Hello? Is anyone in there?” Christy frowned as the female voice drifted down from abovedeck. “Anne?” “What?” Keoni asked. He’d pushed up and was in the process of pulling on his shorts. Christy followed his example, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. “I could have sworn that was my cousin Annette’s voice.” Christy shook her head. “No, that’s impossible. I talked to her on the phone a couple of days ago. She’s not here. Trust me.”

“Is anyone onboard?” a man’s voice yelled, deeper than the female’s and a little gruff. “Aloha!” Keoni said. Though his voice sounded pleasant, his face was hard. He motioned for Christy to stay in the salon. Whispering, he said, “Until we know who it is, stay hidden. I don’t want you getting hurt. I’ll yell down if it’s safe.” Then, pointing at the bar, he said, “In the bottom drawer in the far corner there’s a loaded gun. Do you know how to shoot?” Christy nodded, her stomach tight with worry. “Good. Go get it and wait for my call.” He kissed her before hurrying out of the salon and up the stairs before their visitors could come down. She heard him yell, “Aloha! Please tell me you’re here to rescue me.” Christy hurried for the gun, unable to hear what was being said. Her hands shook as she checked to make sure it was loaded. Then, crouching barefoot across the salon floor, she stopped by the door, leaning slightly to hear what was going on. “You say you wrecked your plane? On this island? Yesterday? A half mile down the shoreline?” Keoni was saying. “I think I’d remember seeing a plane.” “It’s possible we wrecked before you came ashore,” the man answered. “Though I didn’t think the tides came this far inland.” “They don’t,” Keoni answered. “I can’t explain how I got here. One minute I was fishing off the shore of Key West, the next I’m marooned on some deserted island.” “That’s what happened to us,” the familiar female voice said. “Only one moment we were in a storm and the next we were safe and mostly sound on the ground.” “I walked the beach yesterday. I didn’t see your plane,” Keoni answered. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” the woman said. “Oh, by the way, I’m Annette Rowe and this is my husband, Jurgen Cuyper.” “Annette?” Christy yelled in surprise, dropping the gun. She ran up the stairs, instantly recognizing the strawberry-blonde. “Ohmygod, Anne! It’s really you.” Annette gave a squeal of excitement and Christy threw her arms around her, jumping slightly. “I’m so happy to see you,” Annette said. “I can’t begin to tell you how much.” “What happened to you?” Christy asked, looking from her beautiful cousin to the well-built man at her side. His shaved head and large physique looked nothing like the boyfriend her cousin had gone off to surprise. “Did you say your husband?” Annette nodded, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness. “I know, it makes no sense, but,” she paused, reaching her hand out to Jurgen, “I love him.” “But I just talked to you a few days ago. What about,” Christy lowered her voice, mouthing, “Frank?” “I caught him with his pants down and let’s just say I wasn’t the one on his cock.” Annette laughed. “But I don’t care. It was never meant to be. It didn’t feel right. What Jurgen and I have does.” “Uh-hem,” Jurgen cleared his throat. “I am right here.” He and Keoni looked expectantly at them. Both cousins began to laugh. “I’m sorry.” Christy grabbed Keoni’s arm. “I’d like to introduce you to Keoni Finau. My,” she paused, looking at him for help, “ah, my mate, my lover, my…?” “We are bound,” he supplied, “and soon to be married, if she will have me.” Christy jumped up and down, throwing her arms around his neck. “Of course I will have you, so long as you don’t make me live on a boat. I want a house on the beach.” “Anything you desire,” he answered. “This is strange,” Jurgen said. The man wrapped his arm around her cousin and Christy was sure she’d never seen Annette so happy. “Both of you cousins magically appear on this deserted island, finding men.” “Are you sure you’re not witches?” Keoni asked. Annette laughed. “We’ve both been called bitches before.” They all quickly explained in detail what had happened, trying to piece together a full story of where they were. It was impossible to tell. None of it really made sense. “Are you hungry?” Christy asked Jurgen and her cousin, looking at Keoni for approval before she offered up his fish. “Yes, we have fish,” he said. “It would appear food is scarce, though I did see some coconuts.” “Did you see the spinning tree, too?” Annette giggled, sharing a private look with Jurgen.

“No.” Christy scrunched up her face in confusion. “Why? Are there spinning trees here?” “Never mind,” Jurgen and Annette said in unison. “So, I see everything has worked out nicely,” a man’s voice intruded. Christy gasped, twisting around. Annette let out a little yelp of surprise. And the men both shoved the women behind their backs to face the newcomer. Christy peeked around Keoni’s back. A tall man lounged along the side of the deck. His gray tank top and faded denim jeans were odd attire for a tropical beach in the middle of the day, but he didn’t seem bothered by the heat. Long black hair hung freely around his muscular arms and shoulders, the locks blowing lightly in the breeze. Obsidian eyes rolled over the two couples and he seemed pleased with himself. He looked vaguely familiar. Annette tipped her head. “I’ve seen you somewhere before.” “Who are you?” Jurgen demanded. “You did this to us?” Keoni added. The man’s obsidian eyes sparkled with mischief. “I am the god Vaclar, but you can call me Your Highness.” “You’re a god?” Christy snorted, unable to help herself. This scruffily dressed man was a god? She shared a look with Annette. “Yeah, right,” Annette said, sarcasm dripping from her every word. Jurgen tensed. “Shit, I’ve heard about the program the Powers That Be were starting—the whole ‘finding mates for the males’ to help continue the supernatural population.” “And they picked this guy to do it?” Christy asked, making everyone but the newcomer laugh. Their laughter caused a frown to replace the man’s smile. With a burst of energy, he surged forward. The men tensed, ready to fight, but instead of flesh, they were blasted with hot air and a blur of color. Just as fast as he’d disappeared, he reappeared behind them, lounging along the rail like he’d not moved. Keoni pulled her to his chest and she saw Jurgen do the same to Annette. Their protective gestures made her feel less frightened. The god studied his fingernails lazily. When he spoke, he sounded bored. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but blah, blah, blah, you’re not to question me, a supreme being. I can’t tell you why I do things because I’m superior to you and you’re not worthy of knowing. What I can tell you is you’re meant to be together. I brought you here to make it so. I did my part, you did your part and now we can all go along our merry ways.” “But?” Christy said. “Ah?” Annette gasped, holding up her finger. “Wait a minute,” Keoni inserted. Jurgen growled. “That’s not just it, Your Fucking Highness. How do we get home?” “Right,” Vaclar drawled slowly. He held out his hand toward Keoni. A rolled parchment appeared in his palm. “Here’s a map with directions. You’ll be in familiar water in a few days and then the map will disappear. Don’t try to find this place again, you won’t be able to do it.” He stood, dusting off his jeans though they weren’t dirty. “In the meantime, enjoy a little pleasure cruise on me. There’s cash and plenty of food below if you need it. Your plane will be back at the airport waiting for you and, ah, yeah, I think that covers it.” “Wait,” Christy and Annette said in unison. None of this made sense. “Oh, you’re right. I almost forgot.” Vaclar glanced from Christy to Annette. “Ladies, you’re pregnant. Congratulations on the continuance of your supernatural races.” He turned, leaping off the boat into the sand. “Both children will be boys.” The boat jarred and began to rock. As suddenly as they’d been marooned they were set free. The couples walked to the rail, seeing the god several feet away on the island’s shore. The ocean lapped at Vaclar’s feet. As if an afterthought, he yelled, “And don’t forget to worship me. Tell your friends! Spread the word! I could use a cult following. Seems to be all the rage. That’s the god Vaclar, V-A-C-L-A-R. I decree you to,” Vaclar hesitated, “ah, have sex every day and eat plenty of hamburgers.” “What do you say we get out of here?” Keoni asked, slowly backing away from the rail and the crazy man on shore. “If he’s a god, I’m a tax accountant.” Christy mused, “So, it was a wizard after all.” “Hey, buddy, you need some help?” Jurgen asked Keoni. “I’m pretty good with a map.”

“Sure.” Keoni handed the rolled parchment to Jurgen. “I have a feeling his directions might be a little hard to follow.” As the men went to navigate, Christy sat with Annette on the plastic cushions along the rail. The island became smaller and smaller as they drifted away. Both women giggled, content to watch the water as the men debated which direction they needed to go to get home.

The End

About Michelle M. Pillow

Michelle M Pillow has always had an active imagination. Ever since she can remember, she’s had a strange fascination with anything supernatural—ghosts, magical powers, and oh…vampires. What could be more alluring than being immortal, all-powerful, and eternally beautiful? After discovering historical romance novels in high school, it was only natural that the supernatural and romance elements should someday meet in her wonderland of a brain. She’s glad they did, for their children have been pouring onto the computer screen ever since. She is married (madly in love) and has a wonderful family. Michelle would love to hear from you and tries to answer her emails in a timely fashion. That is if the current hero will let her go long enough to check the computer.

About Mandy M. Roth

I grew up fascinated by creatures that go bump in the night. From the very beginning I was odd and creative—a combo every mother hopes for. After studying art all the way through school, I majored in it at college. One rather unexpected child later, I changed my major and finished with a great balance of art and business. I’m working on my MBA with a concentration in marketing but it’s taken a back seat while I plug away at the keyboard. I live in Ohio with my husband and three boys. They definitely keep me busy. Between convincing one he really doesn’t need to have his eyebrow pierced, listening to the middle one’s philosophy on life and pulling the youngest off the countertop, I do manage to eke in a very small amount of writing time during the day. More often than not, my writing is done from 8 pm until 3 am. If the following years are half as good as my first one in writing, I’ll be a happy gal! I’m doing something I love, meeting tons of new people, have the greatest readers in the world and the support of my family. The only thing I still don’t have is that hot lycan on a motorcycle. I’m working on it, though. Michelle and Mandy welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Michelle M. Pillow

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By Michelle M. Pillow & Mandy M. Roth

Date With Destiny Pleasure Cruise Red Light Specialists Stop Dragon My Heart Around anthology

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