Rock Star Romance: Dan (Contemporary New Adult Rockstar Bad Boy Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 4) (78 page)

Ben staggered toward
the shallows and sank into the ground so they were semi-submerged. His mouth
wandered down Rayne’s neckline and suckled gently at her breasts, instinctively
causing her slit to tighten in delight. Unable to control the white-hot desire
that screamed for them to move, Ben began to gently ease his cock in and out.
Rayne angled her hips and let Ben’s bristly hair rub her swollen clit, sending
wracking spasms through her body. Turned on, Ben started to thrust harder and
harder into Rayne’s wetness, the squelching of her juices mingling with the
splashing of the lagoon waters. Feeling her edge building, Rayne signaled for
Ben to stop and shoved him down into the soft, salty earth. Straddling his
narrow hips, Rayne wrapped her hands around her partner’s twitching cock and
slid the head back between her pink lips, pausing and pulling him out so her
muscles milked the head.

“Fuck, Rayne...
fuck
.”

Rayne was practically
dripping with desire and let her hips drop down, sliding Ben’s full length into
her opening. Arching her back so her clit could rub harder against her sexy
partner, Rayne opened her thighs and rode her stallion until an almighty orgasm
sprung from between her legs and rocketed up her body. Crushing his cock with
wet intensity, Ben angled his hips up to let wave after wave of cum explode
from his body, feeling it squirt back as Rayne’s slit engorged with it.

“Now that’s a ride.”

****

Rayne woke the
following morning back in her bed, alone. Ben had insisted on guiding her back
to her cabin, and had in return been conned into a shower where Rayne had spent
a good few minutes paying lip service to his instrument.

Rayne smiled at the
memories, but a darker thought flittered under the surface.
What in the
actual hell happened?

Breakfast had been
left at her cabin door as instructed; it was a continental breakfast with
freshly brewed coffee in a glass percolator. As she was spreading a thick layer
of butter on her toast, her cabin phone started to ring. Cramming a bite into
her mouth, and then quickly regretting it, Rayne swept up the phone and
pretended to cough to mask her noisy swallowing.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Ms.
Baker; this is Katie from customer service. I trust you had a pleasant
evening?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“That’s good to hear.
Now, not to alarm you, but two of our guests fell ill last night. We think they
may have been bitten by something while out in the forest.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry--are
they alright?”

“They are being looked
after, but we want to make sure that it’s contained outside of the resort. If
it’s not too much trouble, do you mind if one of our nurses drops in to take
your temperature?”

“Oh, sure. I’m just
having breakfast.”

After agreeing to a
time, Rayne slipped into a bikini, t-shirt and short combo in preparations for
the day’s activities. She was going on a canoeing trip down some river to the
beach. The nurse turned up exactly on time, leaving Rayne to wonder if they
arrive early and just stand outside the doors waiting for their watches to tick
over, and lugged a medical case into the cabin.

The nurse, dressed
exactly like the rest of the staff, had poorer language skills than her
co-workers and chose to communicate solely through hand gestures. With Rayne
sitting at the kitchen table, the nurse bustled around with her case before
pulling out a penlight and shining it into Rayne’s eyes. She thrusted a tongue
depressor into her mouth to take a look at her tonsils and finally took out
what looked like a fancy version of an ear thermometer. The nurse seemed to
have trouble calibrating the instrument, so she placed it down on the table to
check her bag for something. Rayne took a good look at the thermometer and was
intrigued; the display seemed to list a lot more than just temperature. There
also seemed to be more buttons than any thermometer she had ever seen;
perhaps it did more than just temperature readings
, she thought.

The nurse picked up
her instrument and tweaked a couple of buttons, satisfied after her fourth
adjustment. Without any preamble, the nurse tugged Rayne’s earlobe and stuck
the metal cone into her ear canal, going a bit deeper than Rayne would have
liked. After several long moments, the nurse pulled out the device and read the
screen, a little disappointed by the looks of it.

“Am I alright?”

“You fine, enjoy day.”
It was the most she had ever said, and as quickly as she arrived, she swept out
again leaving Rayne to rub her sore ear.

A motley crew of
canoeists stood on the shore of a slow-flowing lagoon that they were told wound
down to the beach. The group had been shepherded by resort staff and shoved
into brightly-colored life jackets. Rayne stood alone to the side, unsure of
how the rest of the guests would react after the previous evening’s debauchery,
but the strangers made no outward sign of registration. They mingled in small
pockets, fiddling with their jackets and adjusting the straps to fit. The very
last person to arrive was Billie; she floated into the group silently and
looked around at her surroundings, bewildered.

“Like the latest
fashion?” Rayne had sidled up to Billie and struck her best attempt at a model
pose.

“Sorry...what?”
Billie’s voice was impassionate.

“Oh, the jackets;
aren’t they a crime to your eyes?” Rayne forced a chuckle.

Billie shrugged and
looked blankly into the distance. Billie didn’t look anything like she did
previously; her face was devoid of makeup and she lacked her usual animation.
Maybe
she’s just unwell
, Rayne thought.
“Hey, did you have a nurse see you
this morning?”

“Hmm? Y--Yes.” Billie
turned and walked away toward the pile of waiting canoes, her interest in the
maybe-rich Rayne fleeting.

Fine, you
magenta-haired bitch, let’s see you out-paddle me.

The tour had been
surprisingly fun. The guide had pointed out that the forest had an unusually
high level of native medicinal plants and that scientists were still
unravelling the mystery of the island to unlock medical marvels. He also
pointed out locations where quiet visitors might spot certain animals, and they
sat milling in the stream while a family of tiny monkeys jabbered and leapt
across branches. Rayne was a keen rower at school; it felt good to feel the
muscles tighten around her back and shoulders as she cut through the water.

Finally making it to
the ocean, the group dispersed when they were told there was a lunch marquee
waiting for them. Despite being the last to make it over, Rayne wasn’t in a
position to go without; there was more than enough food for several tour
groups. Rayne was concerned about Billie, who had picked up a sandwich but was
nibbling mindlessly at it. Billie hadn’t interacted with anyone on the tour,
and had taken only fleeting looks at the amazing scenery, which was unusual for
someone who made an impression everywhere she went. She had also caused some
concern with the other guests, who muttered among themselves that they found
her intolerably rude.

Without the hostess
watching, Rayne gathered up a selection of foods and snuck it back to the tour
guide and his staff who were busily loading the canoes into a trailer. “This is
just an extra thank you. You can’t refuse--I insist you take them. Throw them
into the trees for all I care.” She pushed the food into the hands of the
guide, spun around and left, satisfied when she heard the first crunchy bites
into a bread roll.

The rest of the
evening had been uneventful. She had sunbathed on the beach, had a long shower
and was getting ready for dinner. Tonight, her dinner was to be prepared by a
personal chef in the cabin kitchen. A menu had been slid under her door and she
had ticked the boxes promptly before popping it on her door handle. An evening
alone in her cabin had been an attractive option, but knowing that there was a
sex god roaming the island made her want to fling the schedule into the wind.
Nonetheless, she endured the chef and his amazing culinary skills. She ended up
eating--and sleeping--alone.

****

Rayne woke earlier
than usual the following morning. Slipping into another bikini, short and
t-shirt combination, Rayne had planned on using one of the canoes and hoped to
score a private hire for the morning. Just her luck: the guide and his team
were setting up for the morning as she arrived. They all smiled; it was easy
being recognized when you’re the largest woman on the island.

She asked demurely if
she could borrow a canoe for an hour to paddle down and then back upstream.
After some haggling and promise of more bread rolls, Rayne clipped on a life
jacket and slipped into the stream with a canoe. Paddling upstream is hard
work, and being unconditioned, Rayne took her time floating downstream for a
while before paddling strongly back to the starting position. Her shoulders
were burning pleasantly, and her silence on the water meant that more wildlife
was about. Rayne slid into one of the many lagoons and decided to take an
extra-long break. She lazily paddled around, watching amphibians climb the damp
rocks back to their perches.

She had come to the
end of one rocky formation and was going to cut across the middle of the lagoon
to the next when something she saw made her freeze--there was something bobbing
in the water. Rayne silently slid her canoe over to check it out; it looked
like a matted buoy caught under the surface of the water. Using her paddle,
Rayne gave it a shove. The mound dipped and began to spin, revealing--to
Rayne’s utter horror--a bright magenta plumage and a torn, gaping mouth.

Rayne jolted in her
canoe and would have gone overboard had she not sat so deeply in the water. The
rest of Billie was gone;
it was just her head
. Rayne gasped and felt
bile rise in her throat. She splashed away from the head and made it to shore,
pulling herself out onto the soft earth and throwing up into a bush.
I have
to go back and tell someone.
Rayne climbed dizzily back into her canoe and
was prepared for the long paddle upstream when she heard voices coming from
afar.

“Where did you hide
it?”

“By the lagoon above
section three.”

“What? You know that’s
tidal--it could be
anywhere
along the river by now!”

“Nah, it’ll be there.”

Rayne had no other
alternative; she paddled as quickly and silently as she could away from the
voices, downstream. Getting behind a bend, Rayne climbed out of the canoe,
hoisted it onto the bank and crept slowly back. Two men wearing yellow
biohazard gear emerged from the undergrowth, their faces covered. One made a
show of pointing in a direction and freaking out that the head was gone. They
glanced at the downward stream path and would have walked over to reveal
Rayne’s hiding spot had they not taken another look at the lagoon and seen Billie’s
bright hair. The men walked around the lagoon and waded in, dropping Billie’s
torn up head into a thick black bag. The men then walked back to where they
came from, their yellow suits disappearing into the green undergrowth.

What in the actual
fuck is going on?

The rest of the
morning was a blur for Rayne. She had returned the canoe to the chirpy staff
and wandered aimlessly in the forest for over an hour until she careened into
Ben.

“Rayne, where have you
been?”

Shaken, Rayne looked
around uneasily “Why?” she couldn’t hide the edge in her voice.

“There’s been an
evacuation called. Plus, I didn’t see you yesterday. I was worried; they said
guests have gotten sick. More have disappeared today.”

Evacuation? Today?
More missing?

“Well, where were
you
?
Yesterday, I went canoeing and sunbathed; dinner was served in my cabin.”

“I was… I was… around,
I guess you could say.”

Rayne went to back
away, but Ben’s firm hand grasped her wrist. “What have you seen?” he asked,
his once friendly brown eyes now taking on a frightening blackness. “Where is
Nelson Patrick? Where’s Billie Toms?”

Before she could open
her mouth to scream there was a thundering explosion from behind them; gunshots
peppered the serene rainforest atmosphere. Ben had released Rayne’s arm, giving
her the perfect chance to take off. Spinning on her heels, Rayne pumped her
arms and legs down a track and then off into the dense underbrush. Behind her,
she could hear Ben calling her name and his heavy footfalls—he was gaining on
her!

Rayne leapt over logs
and used trees to swing herself down the slope without tumbling head over
heels. Another noise joined Ben’s crashing: motorbikes. Shrill, revved engines
tore down the slope in front of and behind Rayne, causing her to skid to a
halt.

“Hey, hey! Over here!”
she waved her arms.

With an almighty
crash, Rayne was spear-tackled to the ground from behind just in time to hear a
thick shot of bullets blast where her torso should have been. Rayne gasped for
air from under Ben’s crushing body.

“You hurt?” Ben hissed
into her ear. “No? Good, this place has gone to fucking hell and we need to get
out of here. Come with me.”

Ben yanked Rayne up
and half dragged her through the rainforest. The bikes were still around, but
making it back up the slope and sighting their quarry was virtually impossible.
“They’ll have to circle back and guess where we’ve gone,” Ben explained.

Just as they reached
the hire shack for the canoes—which was now deserted—there was a peppering of
bullets and the wide, ancient trees next to them exploded. Rayne instinctively
stepped back and grabbed Ben, pulling him away in time to see a large crossbow
arrow split a neighboring sapling. There was another crash, and a figure in
camouflage leapt out from the undergrowth, pulling Ben down. In a flurry of
fists and kicks, Rayne could see that Ben was out of his depth with this raging
killer. Instinctively, she rushed over to the hire shack, grabbed a
double-ended paddle and charged back to the fray, bringing the blade of one
paddle down hard on the foe’s head with a mighty roar. The attacker slumped and
collapsed onto the ground, leaving Ben gasping for air. With no attackers
watching them, Rayne dragged Ben toward the shack, lifted an unlocked roller
door and shoved him underneath before climbing in. Luckily, there were no staff
members hiding inside.

“What the hell is
going on here? And who
are
you?” Rayne snapped out the words, carefully
trying to tend to the cuts that opened on Ben’s face. “Ben?”

“I’m…I’m not Ben. My
real name is Malcolm Derby. I’m an investigative journalist here to find out
what’s going on, and I think I know what’s happening.” It had flowed from
Ben/Malcolm’s tongue so easily that Rayne stopped what she was doing and sat
back on her heels.

“
What?
”

“How did you get
invited?” he asked, wincing from the pressure she applied to his wounded face.

“I accidentally picked
up a card dropped by a woman at a train station.”

Ben/Malcolm nodded at
Rayne’s confession. “That makes a lot of sense now. You’re not like the rest of
them.” He looked up deeply into Rayne’s eyes. Ben/Malcolm went to move, but a
searing pain rippled through his side and he hugged his ribs.

“Shit, let’s have a
look.” Rayne started unbuttoning Malcolm’s shirt to expose his sculpted body.
The exploding wood had ripped into his skin, and there were obvious signs of
bruising from his fist-fight. Rayne saw a flask of water nearby and cloth.
Grabbing both she dampened the cloth and started to gently clean the wounds.

It was several awkward
moments before Malcolm broke the silence. “I loved that dress, by the way,” he
murmured. “As did half of the room.”

“You’re not dying yet;
you can save the petty lies.”

“Honest, half the room
couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. I was hoping to chat with you sooner, but
Billie swooped in. I sort of resigned to thinking you were an airhead when that
happened. I’m glad you changed my mind when you came back.”

Rayne blushed. No one
had ever sounded so thankful to be in her company before.

“This is quite a view
you know. It’s not every day I find myself straddled by a woman who’s ripped
open my shirt. It’s definitely up there in my top five experiences.”

“Oh really?” Although
Rayne was focusing on cleaning his wounds, she couldn’t help that her hands
wandered somewhat freely over Malcolm’s torso. It was making cleaning a slower
process.

“Hmm-mmm, it’s almost
worth going back to the waterfall to compare a second time--that is, if you’re
up for the experiment.”

“Well,” Rayne had to
focus to keep her voice even, “I would need to insist on several re-enactments
of the original, just so we have enough comparable data of course.”

“Of course!” Malcolm
winked and gave Rayne’s thigh a little squeeze.

Footsteps running past
the shack put Rayne and Malcolm back on edge. As soon as the last wound was
clean, Rayne re-buttoned the shirt and they quietly shuffled to a far corner of
the shack.

They waited for
several very long minutes until the sounds of the forest returned before
recommencing their whispers.

“So, why are you
here?” Rayne ventured first.

Malcolm failed to keep
the sorrow from his face. “I’m trying to figure out why my best friend never
came home from here. He told me over drinks he’d been given this exclusive
invitation and wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it, so naturally he showed
me the card and everything. I thought nothing of it until his mother called me
asking if I knew where he was. I did some digging and found that there have
been increased reports of people going missing--people who would never normally
be reported as missing.”

“But don’t people go
missing all the time? It’s hardly enough to stage a huge investigation.”

“You’re absolutely
right, but the people I found who were going missing were influential
fringe-dwellers. Bankers, stock traders, socialites, trendsetters. People who
sit somewhere in an area of influence, but wouldn’t draw a lot of attention;
there were about a dozen cases in the past month.”

“So, then…”

“I did some digging
and found nothing on this resort, its builders or even its location. I tried to
contact the authorities, but they said this place never existed. Eventually, I
worked through all my contacts and paid a lot of money to wrangle a card out of
someone who was invited…Ben, an advertising guy.” He gritted his teeth as he
shifted into a different position. “You a nurse back home?”

“No, I am—well, I
was
—the
go-to first aid person in my office. I don’t know if I can still say that I am;
I don’t know if we’ll make it alive off this island.”

Malcolm gave a slow
nod. “For all it’s worth, I’m glad I met you.”

Rayne paused and gave
Malcolm a small smile, “Me, too.”

There was a long
pause, before Malcolm continued, “Why did you run from me before?”

Rayne let out a long
deep breath and mentally braced herself. “I found Billie Toms’ head in a lagoon
this morning, and it was collected by men in biohazard suits. I was in shock,
so when you asked where she was, I thought that maybe you had something to do
with it.”

Malcolm pulled Rayne
into a crushing hug. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I had been sneaking around
trying not to get caught—I had just avoided getting tased by some guys in those
suits who ambushed the group I was with. I had stopped to read some stupid
plaque on a tree, and before I knew it, I had to hide under the boardwalk and
crawl back to the resort. I thought something dreadful happened to you...wasn’t
far off the mark in the end, was I?”

Rayne squeezed her
arms around Malcolm. “So,” she mulled the words over in her mouth, “why do you
think people are disappearing? Why was Billie murdered?”

Malcolm released her
from the hug but reached out and held Rayne’s hand, his warm grip returning her
to the reality of the situation.

“I’m not completely
sure, but I know that the guests who disappear have acted unusual. The day
before you turned up, I noticed a male guest acting differently. He was a big
talker and had a huge personality. I only noticed his strangeness because in
the morning he was complaining of chills and hot flashes, but by lunchtime, he
had completely shut-up—you couldn’t get a word from him. He never came to dinner,
and has been absent ever since.”

“Is it possible he was
bitten by something?”

“Possible, yes, but
then other guests have been acting strangely and disappearing. I had an
activity with Nelson yesterday. We were supposed to go for a rainforest hike,
but he was pulled out when he started complaining of headaches and never came
back for the rest of the day.” Malcolm looked thoughtful for a few moments, “I
think that’s what happened to Billie.”

“Doesn’t explain the
reasoning though.”

Malcolm looked surprised.
“You are very shrewd,” he smiled. “That part, I’m not sure of yet. But I think
we’re being exposed to something. Why else would you send thirty strangers to a
remote island?”