The Bad Boys of Eden (30 page)

She came loudly, calling out his name as she pulled roughly at the straps on her wrists, annoyed to have something holding her down. Without them, she would have flipped Jett beneath her, straddled his hips and fucked the hell out of him.

“Untie me.” Her words came out harsh, furious.

He shook his head. “No.”

She gritted her teeth as he continued to fuck her with the vibrator. Her orgasm had hit her like a freight train, waned for only a moment, and now a second was clawing beneath her skin. It was the most beautiful pain.

“God, Jett. Please! I need you. Need more.
Fuck me
.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words, gave no clue he’d even heard her speak. Instead, he used the toy against her. Retreat, return. Retreat, return. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second, he threw more fuel on the fire.

Bending lower, Jett took her clit into his mouth and sucked. Hard. She splintered, shattered into a thousand pieces as she came once more. Tears streamed down her face as her body trembled, but Jett refused to offer a reprieve.

The vibrator became a relentless pounding inside her body, her pussy betraying her, clenching against it, demanding more.

Her skin was slick with sweat as she writhed beneath Jett. He nipped at her clit before pulling the toy out, replacing it with his tongue. His hot breath almost singed her sensitive flesh. He pressed his hands beneath her ass, his fingers digging in to hold her still for the assault of his mouth.

She struggled to breathe, unable to speak, captive to his demands. She was his willing hostage.

Then his hands slid inward, not stopping until the tips of his fingers found her anus. He stroked the virgin hole despite her cries. Jett pulled away briefly, his mouth leaving her pussy. She released an audible sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. Jett drove two fingers deep inside her, cupping her and finding her G-spot. She screamed. An actual scream, as he pushed her over the ledge a third time.

Carissa’s life flashed before her eyes. This was it. She was going to die right here. Right now. Death by orgasm. And she wouldn’t regret it a bit.

By now, she knew her climaxes meant nothing to Jett. He reacted to the latest as he had the previous two. Ignoring it. He replaced his fingers with his mouth once more, using his now-wet digits to explore new territory.

Lifting his head, he waited until she looked at him before saying, “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

It was a simple request, but Carissa’s legs felt as if they were filled with lead. Her strength had deserted her two orgasms ago.

Jett was amused by her inept attempts at following his command. He let her struggle for a few moments, then simply lifted them and put her legs where he wanted them. The new position left her completely vulnerable as Jett raised his chest higher. It didn’t take her long to realize his goal when her ass left the mattress. He pressed the tip of one finger into her ass and wiggled it as he watched her face.

The Carissa she’d been an hour ago would have thrown up every shield she possessed to hide her reaction to his touch, but this woman was powerless. A stranger.

“You’ve never been taken here.”

She didn’t bother to lie. Carissa shook her head.

“It’s mine.”

His tone was pure possession. In another state of mind, she would have emasculated him for his arrogance. But that mind—like her strength—had fled.

No. It had been driven out…like the snakes from Ireland.

Jett had fucked her senseless with nothing more than his fingers, mouth and her vibrator. He had erased every trace of self-preservation she’d ever had. He’d recreated her. Made her into someone else. Someone she’d always wanted to be, but would never allow herself to accept.

A submissive.

She longed to be his. To please him.

Once the haze of sex cleared, Carissa knew that concept would scare her. Piss her off. But right now, it just felt right. Like she’d donned the softest pair of pajamas on the planet. She never wanted to take them off.

His finger delved deeper into her ass, pinching slightly. She didn’t ask him to stop. She couldn’t. She wanted this as much as he did.

Once his finger was fully lodged, he stopped. “You remember your safe word?”

She nodded.

“I let you use it to escape in the dungeon, Rissa. I won’t do that again. It’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card and it’s not something I want you to use lightly. If you’re in pain or seriously scared, say it and we’ll stop and talk about it. You won’t be allowed to say it and leave. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

He lifted one eyebrow until she hastily added, “Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Her mind told her the term of endearment was condescending. Insulting. So why did it make her feel so good? Maybe because it was something she’d never heard growing up. She’d worked her ass off to be the diligent daughter, doing everything she knew to please her father, yet it always went unnoticed.

Jesus. Did this mean she had daddy issues?

Jett leaned down, his face close to hers. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m trying to understand why I like this.”

He kissed her softly on the cheek. “Do you need to know why?”

“If liking this means I’m sort of fucked up in the head or something…then yeah.”

He chuckled. “You’re not fucked up, Rissa. You’re beautiful. Giving. Trusting. Intelligent.”

She snorted at his list, but he didn’t relent. Instead, he removed his finger, sitting up until his ass rested on his ankles. Once again, she was reminded of how much larger he was than her.

“So let me explain how this is going to go down.”

He stroked her clit, then gave her a cocky grin that let her know he had her number. He knew exactly how to use her body against her.

“You seem to need some time to adjust to the new status quo. So we’ll use this week to test out some new boundaries.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a submissive, Rissa, but you’re struggling to accept that. Every night that we’re on Eden, I’ll be your Dom. I’m going to teach you exactly what it means to submit. I’m going to tie you up, spank you. I’ll expose you to floggers and forced orgasms, exhibitionism, the cross. I’ll give you every fantasy you’ve ever had and some you didn’t even know existed.”

Carissa bit her lip, trying to hide how much his words thrilled her. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t your first BDSM rodeo?”

He laughed. “It’s not. I’m a member of a club back home. When we return to New Orleans, I’ll take you there.”

She shook her head. “No. What we do here stays here. It can’t go back home with us.”

Jett narrowed his eyes. “That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t seem to understand. I’m going to use this week to expose you to a different side of yourself.”

“What if I don’t want that?” It was a stupid question. One they both knew was a total lie.

“You don’t have a choice. You told the master of the island we’d go undercover to help him look for the murderer. To do that, we have to project the image of a committed couple.”

“No we don’t.

“Yes we do.”

“I don’t have to be your sub to go undercover, Jett. In fact it might be easier if we split up when we’re there, so—”

“No. You’ll be my sub or you won’t go back to the dungeon at all.”

She started to argue, but Jett reached under her shirt. He cupped her breast briefly, then pinched her nipple. The rough touch caused her to jerk and cry out in pain. It also sent a fresh round of arousal to her pussy.

“You don’t want to test me on this, Rissa. Because I will win.”

Asshole was right. “Fine. I’ll be your submissive in the dungeon. But only as part of our cover and only until we catch the killer.”

“No.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t bother. Then her gaze landed on his cock—hard and testing the limits of the material of his briefs. She’d been so overwhelmed, she’d failed to think about him and
his
needs. She wasn’t usually such a selfish lover.

Overcome with guilt, she pulled at the straps, trying to free herself. “Untie me, Jett. I want to touch you.”

He didn’t reach for the straps. Instead, he slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, sliding them down over his hips.

Carissa licked her lips as she caught sight of his erection. The skin was stretched taut. He was thick and long, the perfect example of what it meant to be well endowed.

“Please let me loose.” Her fingers itched to wrap around him.

“No. There’s one more thing you need to understand about this week. About us.” As he spoke, he grasped his cock, stroking it slowly.

Carissa frowned, angry. That was her job. She wanted to be the one pleasing him.

Jett moved, lifting her t-shirt until her stomach and breasts were bared. Then he placed one hand by her head as the other continued to travel up and down his thick flesh. Every now and then, the head of his cock brushed against her stomach, leaving a drop of precome behind.

She thought his motions were merely foreplay, but when he started to stroke harder, faster, she realized he intended to come this way.

“No,” she whispered. “Please. Let me. I need you.”

Jett hesitated for just a moment, then he started to run his fist along his cock once more. “I need you too, Rissa. But I’m not going to take you, I’m not going to fuck you, until you recognize what’s going on here. What I want from you.”

His hand moved quicker until his eyes closed with something that looked almost like pain. She knew the feeling. Jett released a sharp, short cry as his climax erupted, his come landing on her stomach, painting her breasts. For several moments, neither of them spoke as Jett slowly recovered.

When he looked at her again, she studied his face, saw pain mixed with desire etched in the lines by his eyes and mouth. He released the straps, rubbing her shoulders as she lowered her arms. She knew what he was going to say, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. Wasn’t ready to admit it. “Wait, Jett. Don’t—”

He forged on, talking over her. “This isn’t about going undercover. It’s not about fantasies or hooking up on holiday. I’m not in this for a week, Rissa. When I take you, it’s going to be forever.”

Fuck. He said it.

And now it was her turn to respond.

She closed her eyes, unable to face him as she told the lie. “I don’t want that.”

She felt his fingers under her chin, knew he wouldn’t speak until she looked at him. Carissa lifted her eyelids.

“Of course you do. You’re just scared. And stubborn.” He bent and kissed her softly. It was the single most beautiful kiss of her life.

When he lifted his lips from hers, she felt his breath on her face as he said, “Lucky for you, I’m patient. And persistent.”

“You’re making a big mistake here.”

He grinned and, finally, after hours of looking for him, her affable, lovable, safe best friend Jett, reappeared. “No, Rissa. For the first time in a long time, I’m getting something right. Now—” He stripped her t-shirt over her head and used it to wipe his come off her stomach. She didn’t resist. Her head was spinning.

When he was finished, he turned her until she faced away from him, her gaze taking in the sun sparkling over the ocean through the French doors. He spooned her, wrapping his arm around her waist, tucking her close.

The word
paradise
drifted through her sleepy mind.

“Go to sleep, love,” he whispered.

The last thing she remembered was Jett softly kissing the back of her head as her eyes drifted shut and the world disappeared for a little while.

Chapter Six

Carissa stood by the counter at the Oceanside bar, waiting for the bartender to finish making a couple of pina coladas for an older couple seated across the way. She had slept until noon, then awoken to the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. Jett had set his laptop up on the table by the window, and she’d lain in bed watching as his fingers flew across the keys, beating out a steady pace.

Carissa was more than a little bit in awe of Jett’s ability to put words together in such a way that they could transport her from her shitty little life in the Royal Lunch. He always found a way to take her to exciting places with people who were a hell of a lot more interesting than the usual bums who sat around her all day drinking Budweiser, bitching about the government and talking sports.

She’d stayed in bed for nearly half an hour watching him before he stopped to take a sip of coffee and turned around to look at her. He had a rather glazed-over look in his eyes and she wondered what he was seeing in those few seconds before his vision cleared and he realized she was awake.

He’d smiled and then crossed the room to sit on the mattress next to her. She didn’t resist when he bent down to kiss her. She woke up slowly—worthless until she had at least three cups of coffee in her—so she let the wave of…whatever this was…carry her forward until she’d found herself in her bikini, lying in a lounger watching people frolic in the water.

For five hours this afternoon, she’d merely followed along behind Jett in a haze, accepting his sweet kisses and allowing him to hold her hand or place his hand on the small of her back whenever they walked. She’d taken it all in stride, not saying a word, simply because she didn’t know what the hell
to
say.

Finally, a few minutes earlier, her brain caught up to her far-too-ready-for-round-two body and she’d started to freak out silently. She had asked Jett if he wanted a beer and then got the hell away from him.

Studying the blackboard on the counter, she searched for a drink that was strong enough to calm her nerves. Reading through the list, she chuckled at some of the names. She was tempted to ask for the ingredients in a few of them, then reconsidered. She could see the looks on her patrons’ faces now if she started serving something called Jamaican Me Crazy or Goddammit Good at the Royal Lunch. On the whole, the people who drank at her bar had simple tastes, preferring beer or shots, nothing fancy and no silly names.

Then Carissa spotted it—Eden’s Miracle Cure. She sure as hell needed a remedy right now and the drink had chocolate liqueur in it. Alcohol
and
chocolate? Yes please.

The bartender had just taken her order when a pretty dark-haired woman walked up and stood next to her, perusing the same drink list as Carissa.

“A chocolate drink?” the woman said softly.

Carissa laughed. “I just ordered it. I mean, how can it be bad?”

The other woman grinned. “I know, right?”

Carissa raised her hand to the bartender and asked him to make a second. “I’m Carissa.”

“Lauren.”

The two women shook hands, then grinned gleefully when the bartender set their drinks down in front of them. Tapping glasses in unspoken cheers, they each took a sip.

Carissa sighed, her tense shoulders finally relaxing as the smooth, sweet chocolate slid down her throat, leaving a trail of delicious heat in its wake. “Thank God,” she muttered.

“That bad?” Lauren asked.

Carissa shrugged. “I’m here on a platonic vacation with my best friend. Problem is he wants to delete the platonic part and turn this week into forever.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“And I gather you’re not interested in him romantically?”

Carissa took another sip of her drink. “Truthfully, I…well…I mean…”

“Ah. So you are.”

Carissa nodded. “Yeah. But he’s never glanced my way once back home in the seven years we’ve been friends. I’m afraid it’s the romantic atmosphere of this island that’s got him all hot and bothered. What if I give in, then we go home and he realizes I’m not the woman of his dreams after all?”

“Do you really think that’s what will happen?”

Did she? Carissa considered the question, and then realized she didn’t doubt Jett’s sincerity for a minute. “No,” she begrudgingly admitted, “I don’t.”

Carissa watched as Lauren took another sip—gulp, actually—of her drink. “Looks like I’m not the only one freaking out.”

Lauren gave her a rueful grin. “You’re not. Do you believe in soul mates?”

Carissa didn’t, but she wasn’t sure how to respond as she watched Lauren take another gulp of her drink, then set it down.

Lauren saved her from having to answer. “I do. Or did. Or do.”

“Which is it?” Carissa asked.

“I do.” Lauren shrugged. “I’m here because the guy who I believe is my soul mate wants to reconnect.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No. Well…maybe?” Lauren shook her head. “I don’t know. Honestly. I’m so confused at this point. I mean, I’ve been in love with this guy for six years, but what if I’ve only been pining after a memory? Is that even possible? He seems to be too good to be real.”

“Is it possible that it is real?”

Lauren quirked her lips and glanced behind her. “That’s what scares me. I came here to say goodbye, but I find myself falling head over heels again, just like before.” She finished the last of her drink and pushed the glass forward. “If my sisters were here, you know what they’d tell me?”

Carissa shook her head, somewhat relieved to discover she wasn’t the only woman on Eden who was faced with a life-altering decision to make. It suddenly made Carissa feel a lot less lonely.

“They’d tell me to take a chance. To trust in love.”

Carissa was a bit jealous of Lauren and her sisters. She was an only child. It would be nice to have a sister to confide in over stuff like this. “Sounds like good advice.”

Lauren didn’t seem to agree.

Carissa took another sip of her drink, then leaned closer to the sweet woman. “Tell you what. Pretend I’m one of your sisters. But instead of telling you to trust in love, I’m going to tell you to trust your heart.”

Lauren smiled at Carissa. “Then I’m going to do the same. Trust your own heart and see what happens.” Lauren pushed herself away from the bar. “Hopefully we’ll run into one another again.”

Carissa hoped the same thing as she waved goodbye. She was considering Lauren’s advice and just about to order another drink when Jett appeared.

Jett gestured to her empty glass. “I wondered where you disappeared to.”

“Sorry. I met a really nice woman. We sat and had a drink.”

The bartender came over. “Would you like another Miracle Cure?”

Jett chuckled. “Miracle Cure, huh? I think I’m starting to understand. You’d been so mellow all afternoon, I thought we’d turned a corner. Have we entered the freaking-out stage of the day?”

Carissa shot Jett a dirty look. “Don’t flatter yourself, hotshot.”

Jett claimed the barstool next to her. “Set her up with another, please. And I’ll have a Corona.”

The bartender nodded as he turned to get their drinks.

Jett wrapped his arm around the back of Carissa’s stool. Her mind went straight to the gutter as he leaned closer. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a bathing suit and flip-flops. Before they’d traveled to Eden, Carissa had never seen Jett without a shirt on. He was well defined, with a decent six-pack and just a smattering of hair on his chest. His skin was tan and glistening with a light sheen of sweat after spending a couple of hours in the sun. In a word, he was hot—literally and figuratively.

Carissa was tempted to bend lower to swipe her tongue over one of his brown nipples. She shook the racy thought out of her head and searched for safer territory. “You never told me what you were writing this morning.”

He shrugged. “A book.”

She grinned widely. “Seriously?”

Jett’s face morphed into one of pure delight. “Yep. I’m not sure what shook it loose, but I woke up this morning with an entire plot in my head. I couldn’t fire the laptop up quick enough to start slamming down some notes.”

“Thank God.”

“No, thank
you
. I’d lost faith in myself, Rissa. For the last few weeks, I’d seriously considered giving up writing completely.”

“You would hate that, Jett.”

He chuckled. “I know. You didn’t give up on me. Not once in six months. And more than that, you didn’t give me shit for being such a pain in the ass.”

Carissa feigned confusion. “Wait? You mean you were acting more miserable than usual? I had no idea. So…when can I read what you’ve written?”

Jett seemed to consider her request, then said, “When it’s done.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to wait that long. You left me hanging in that last book. Does Riley get out of that burning building? Does he save his sister’s baby?”

Jett grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’re a cruel man.”

He wrapped his fingers around her ponytail and tugged her closer, placing a quick, hard kiss on her lips. Carissa marveled at how quickly Jett could switch gears, taking them out of the friend zone and onto lover’s lane without blinking an eye.

When she fell silent, Jett tilted his head and studied her face. His sexy grip in her hair kept her from avoiding his gaze. “Why is this so tough for you to accept, Rissa?”

She closed her eyes, then moved forward, pressing her forehead against his. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine sleeping with Jett at all. But when she tried to play the scene out beyond their time on Eden, when she tried to imagine a life with Jett back home, she struggled to find the happy ending.

Carissa would never have thought she’d set much stock by society’s class structure, but the fact remained she was a bartender, a girl who’d barely squeaked by in high school. She was only ever described as intelligent in relation to having street smarts. She didn’t have two pennies to rub together and before this week, she’d never ventured out of New Orleans. Hell, she’d never really wanted to travel. Her dreams were small because she’d learned a long time ago that they were a waste of time. Her feet were firmly set in reality and her world wasn’t much bigger than the four walls of the Royal Lunch.

Jett lived on an entirely different plane. He never stopped reading, his nose forever buried in a book. He’d been away from New Orleans more than he’d been home the past few years. People sought his opinion on the judicial system, the government, military practices. He’d been asked to speak at countless engagements. Sometimes she’d overhear him talking about things she didn’t even know existed. And if she was being honest, she hadn’t bothered to learn more because it sort of bored her. Jett was handsome, successful, and worldly. She was simple.

And while she’d never suffered much in terms of self-esteem, she knew that the differences between them, such as their lack of common interests, were bound to become an issue somewhere down the line.

“Jett, you have a wonderful imagination, but the fact is you’re a bit of a dreamer. You’d have to be in order to write such incredible stories. But you’re going to have to understand that I can’t think that way. I’m too practical. Which means I see something you can’t.”

He frowned. “What’s that?”

“Not every story has a happily ever after.”

Jett didn’t respond immediately. Instead he released her hair, picked up his beer and took a long swig. She watched his face clear, his expression unconcerned, as they finished their drinks in silence.

Jett signed for the drinks, then reached over for her hand. She let him take it, confused by his easy acquiescence to her proclamation that things wouldn’t work out between them.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Where?”

“Our room.”

Carissa’s pussy fluttered at the way he said
our
and the wicked gleam in his eye. She should have known better than to think Jett would give up without a fight.

“I might hang out here for a little while. Why don’t you go on up without me?”

Jett chuckled, then tugged on her hand until she was forced to stand. “You can walk on your own or I can carry you. Preference?”

She scowled. “I’m happy here, Jett. There’s nothing I want to do in the room.”

He bent closer, taking her earlobe between his teeth and nipping sharply. “Liar.”

Her nipples went on red alert, budding beneath her too-thin bikini top. Jett—the observant bastard—noticed immediately. “You don’t play fair.”

She was about to throw caution to the wind and follow Jett to the room—common sense be damned—when a man dressed in a lightweight white shirt emblazoned with the Eden crest approached them.

“Mr. Lewis. Ms. Pierre.”

Jett took a step forward, slightly blocking Carissa from the stranger. She was touched by his protectiveness. He’d been shielding her in little ways all day—clearly not forgetting there was a killer on the island. Carissa felt the same tingle she’d experienced last night when Jett had bent her over the spanking bench in the dungeon. After a lifetime of taking care of herself, it was thrilling to have someone else claiming control.