The Bad Boys of Eden (9 page)

Chapter Nine

When Killer walked back into the kitchen and stared at the dirty dishes that still sat on the counter, his mind wandered back to Marissa standing at the sink with that dildo in her mouth making it buzz and flash with the excitement of a sex starved teenage boy getting a blow job for the first time.  Killer had continued to read his book, or at least appear as if he was doing so, despite the wild surge of arousal at imagining her determined mouth around his own cock.

Now she stood in that cell downstairs, chained to the wall
and
locked in.  As if he thought she might slip from the entirely secure chains and escape to the wild.

He strode to the desk in the living room and flicked on the app on the desktop computer that allowed him to view the camera outputs.  He selected the dungeon and chose the camera that showed Marissa against the wall, her arms extended upward and chained to the wall.

She didn’t really deserve that.  But then again, as he’d pointed out, life wasn’t always fair.

He settled into the desk chair to watch her.  Leaving her down there for a while might dissuade her from badgering him in the future.  If they were going to spend the next few days together, he didn’t want her nosing around in his business.

The next few days?  Why did he think she’d stay that long?  Was he going to keep her here against her will?

He glanced at the chains holding her arms against the wall.

He didn’t seem to need to.  She seemed disinclined to go back to the resort.  He kept expecting her to ask him to take her back—had even asked her if she wanted him to—but she didn’t.

But that could all change.  If he pushed her too far.

Just how far would that be, he wondered.

A buzzing drew his attention back to the image of her face on the screen.

His cock immediately tightened at the sight of the blue lights dancing across the leather strap in an excited fashion.

Damn it, she was making it come again, her eyes fixed right on the camera.

God damn it.  She knew he was watching.  He wouldn’t leave her locked up and unattended, and she probably knew that.  He certainly didn’t intend to sit here watching her make that thing come over and over again, while his own cock ached for her attention.

He shot across the room and raced down to the dungeon, then glared at her, the cock in her mouth flashing green lights.  He grabbed the strap holding the thing on her and pulled it over her head, then tugged it from her mouth.  The vibration of it in near climax shuddered through him, making his cock swell.    The flashing lights died as it hung from his hand.

“Woman, I just want a moment’s peace.  Can’t you give me that?”

“Do I have a choice when you lock me up down here?”

He narrowed his eyes and held up the now passive dildo.  “It seems you do.”

He tossed the device onto the cot across the room.

“You could at least chain me up outside so I can get a tan.”

He frowned, but released the chains, then grasped her wrist, and led her back upstairs, through the villa and out the double doors, grabbing his book on the way through.  There was a patio outside the door, then a very private beach overlooking a secluded bay beyond.

* * *

Marissa followed him outside to the heat of the day, softened by the ocean breeze.  Her eyes widened at the beautiful view.  Tropical foliage surrounding a lovely patio of terracotta tile with cushioned lounge chairs and a table and chairs, all in teak.  A hot tub was nestled on one side of the patio and the other side opened to a white, sandy beach.  There was a hammock suspended between two palm trees and beyond that… a hanging bed.  It was a full king-sized bed suspended from ropes sheltered under a grassy roof, and was made up with white linens and fluffy pillows facing the ocean beyond.

The shoreline curved around, forming a sheltered bay with the open ocean beyond.  The surf pounded against the shore in rolling waves.

Killer released her wrist.  “Now just let me read.”

He kicked off his shoes and settled on the suspended bed and lay back to stare at the ocean.  She wondered if he expected her to climb in beside him, but he simply opened his book and began to read.

The sun was warm and the ocean beckoned.  She glanced at him again, thoroughly engrossed in his book.

“Can I go for a swim?” she asked.

“Knock yourself out,” he said without glancing up.

She hesitated, not wanting to interrupt him again.  She glanced out over the ocean and the curved shoreline and drew in a breath.

“Umm…I was just wondering…”

He glanced up from his book with an impatient glance in her direction.  “What?” he prompted.

“If I’m out on the beach…”  She glanced around the shoreline again.  “Can people see me?”

The impatience in his eyes faded.  “You’re safe here.  This place is totally isolated, the beach is not visible from the road.  Your boyfriend won’t see you.”

“
Ex
-boyfriend,” she corrected.

He put down the book.  “Tell me something.  If you hadn’t found out he was a criminal—”

“And that he killed a woman.”

He nodded.  “Sure.  If that hadn’t been true, would you still be together?”

Her heart compressed.  She’d asked herself the same thing too many times to count.  When she’d met Rip, she had been sure he was a strong, dependable,
caring
man.  The possibilities that had blossomed in her mind had swept her to visions of a wonderful happily-ever-after with him.  Sure, he’d ridden a motorcycle, and had that hard-edged, bad-boy look, but she’d sensed that he was sensitive and loving.  And fiercely loyal.  She’d been right about the latter, but that allegiance was to his biker comrades, not to her.

“The question is meaningless.  He
is
a criminal.”

He continued to stare at her for a long moment, then picked up his book and started to read again.  But she was sure he’d seen past her words to the desire for it to have been different.  She’d wanted it to work with Rip so badly.  She’d wanted him to be what he seemed.  She’d almost given up looking for the man of her dreams, a little because she really hadn’t known what she was looking for.  Every time she got into a promising relationship with the
right
kind of guy—a nice guy with a stable job who seemed to share her interests—it always failed terribly.  He got bored.  She got bored.  Everything became too predictable.  With Rip, there was enough of a difference between them that every day together had been charged with excitement.

They’d never gotten to the point of having sex.  She’d thought that odd—that he’d held back, despite the fact she was raring to go—but even that had intrigued her.  And made her want him more.  She had been sure that being with him would have been exhilarating.  Maybe because she sensed that he would take total control of her in the bedroom, and that thought excited her beyond belief.

Like being with Killer did.  When he took control…

Her heart began thumping.  It was definitely time to go for a swim.

She walked to one of the lounge chairs and kicked off her sandals, then stripped off her shirt and skirt and dropped them on the chair.  She stepped off the tiled patio and the hot, warm sand pushed between her toes.  She walked the twenty yards or so to the wet sand smoothed by the wash of water gliding back to the ocean.  As she continued walking, another wave rolled forward and the water curled around her ankles, then washed back again.

She kept walking into the shallow water, then to her waist.  A wave crashed toward her, and she pushed through it.  The next one knocked her off her feet to land on her butt in the soft sand.  As it washed away, pulling her deeper, she stood up, laughing.  She ran forward, past the tumultuous pounding of water against the sand and swam out further.

* * *

Killer tried hard to read his book, but found himself glancing up often to watch Marissa  in her tiny bathing suit, walking into the water.  When she was thrown ass first onto the ground, he wondered if she was in trouble, but she stood up laughing, her wet body glistening in the sunlight, then bounded through the surf.

Now she swam out into the water and he kept an eye on her, concern about undercurrents and sharks on his mind.  But people swam in the ocean all the time and she was a big girl.

After a while, she walked back to shore, then sat on the wet sand, her long, shapely legs stretched out in front of her, enjoying the shallow water washing over her body.  She dug her fingers into the sand and tossed some at her feet, then watched the water wash it away.

He smiled.  She was so serious most of the time, but watching her play like a child on the beach made him see her in a whole new light.

She touched something in him.  Reminded him of why he did what he did, and simultaneously, why he needed to stop.  The cost was just too high.

After a while, she returned to the patio and headed toward the recliners.  He considered telling her to join him on the bed, concerned that she was getting too much sun, but she stretched out on the one the chairs in the shade.

Just as well.  He wanted her here more because the sight of her in that bathing suit, with all that silky skin exposed, made his body tighten with need.  If he got her on this bed, that bathing suit would be gone in ten seconds flat.

He wanted her, and she would obey any command he gave her.  She’d already proven that.  And he would love to command her to ride him hard.  Right here.  Right now.

All he could think about was how she responded to his commands.  How she grew wet with need when he took control.

But he wanted her too much, and although he might be in control of her, he was in danger of losing control of himself, or at least his feelings.  She was in love with another man.  She had convinced herself she wasn’t, but when he’d asked her if she would still be with Rip if he wasn’t a criminal, he could see it in her eyes.  She was still in love with him.

* * *

Marissa glanced at Killer, still reading his book on the bed.  She’d been lying here for about an hour and she was getting bored.  She stood up and walked to the door, then went inside.  He didn’t glance her way, but she was sure he was aware of her movements.

She went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.  She grabbed a bottle of water and downed half of it, then inspected the contents of the fridge.  She checked the cupboards and found all the ingredients to make her favorite apple cinnamon muffins.

She grabbed a bowl and started on the muffins, then after she put them in the oven, she grabbed the chicken thighs she saw in the meat drawer earlier and pulled together a quick chicken and rice casserole, then set it back in the fridge.  All she had to do was bake it in the oven for an hour and a half and throw together a salad for a nice, simple dinner.

She walked back outside and noticed Killer had dozed off, the book lying on the bed beside him.  On the way back from her swim, she’d noticed a swimming pool around the corner of the villa, hidden by the lush foliage around the patio.  She’d really like to go in the water again and the pool had umbrellas at one end to provide shade, so she quietly headed across the patio and around to the pool.

Chapter Ten

Killer woke with a start and glanced around.  He could smell baking from inside the house, so he stood up and went inside, greeted by the delicious aroma of cinnamon.  On the kitchen counter were muffins cooling on a metal rack.

He picked one up and took a bite.  God, he was in love.  Apple cinnamon muffins were his favorite.  He opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water and noticed the casserole all ready to bake.  His lips curled up in a smile.  He could get used to this.

Then his stomach tightened.  Finding a woman to share his life with had been a desire that had been steadily growing in him for quite a while.  It was a big reason he was going through such turmoil and questioning his life choices.  He wanted to make a change for the better, but without losing who he truly was.  He needed to do whatever was necessary to allow himself to find love, and happiness.

But not with a woman who loved someone else.  That would be setting himself up for failure.

He finished his muffin and downed the rest of the water, wondering where Marissa had gotten to.  He walked around the villa, checking the three bedrooms to see if she’d gone for a nap.  When he couldn’t find her, he went downstairs to the cell, but she wasn’t there either.

Had she gone back for a swim in the ocean?

He hadn’t seen her in the water.

Fuck, what if she’d swam out too far?  What if she’d been caught in an undertow?

He raced up the stairs and strode out the door to the patio.  He hurried to the beach and glanced out over the water.

“Marissa?”  Panic welled in him.  “Marissa!” he yelled.  “Marissa!”

“I’m over here.”

At the sound of her voice, he spun around.  The sight of her floating in the pool staring at him sent relief flooding through him.

Then anger.

He marched toward the pool, glowering at her.

“What the hell are you doing?  It’s dangerous to swim alone.”

“You were sleeping and I didn’t want to bother you, so—”

“Get out of the pool and get back in the house,” he commanded.

She frowned, but swam to the steps and walked out of the pool.  The sight of her shapely body, glistening with water, sent his already adrenaline filled body into overdrive.  He desperately wanted to order her onto the bed right now, then drive into her and thrust until they both groaned in ecstasy.

Fuck, she threw him off balance far too easily.

She scurried back to the patio ahead of him, then reached the patio door and started to open it.

“Wait,” he said, watching the water dripping from her wet bathing suit.

She glanced at him.

“I don’t want you getting water all over the floor.”  Keeping a straight face, he said, “Take off the bathing suit.”

She tipped her head, assessing, then reached behind her back, locking her gaze with his.  He heard the click of the clasp unfastening, then his groin tightened as she slipped the straps from her shoulders, then drew the bikini top away.  The sight of her puckered nipples make his cock swell.  Her gaze still locked on his, she slid her thumbs under the elastic of her bikini bottoms and pushed them down her long, lithe legs.

She stood up, totally naked in front of him, her round breasts pert and begging to be stroked, the sight of her sweet little pussy sending his blood boiling.  She walked to the lounge chair and picked up her skirt, then started to pull it on.

“You don’t need that.”

She stilled and stared at him, then dropped it back on the chair, and just stood there, waiting for his next command.

He strolled toward her, then opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.

She walked past her wet bathing suit sitting in a pile on the tiles and stepped into the cool interior.  He couldn’t help but notice her nipples swell to rigid peaks.  He longed to reach out and stroke them.  To take one in his mouth and taste it, then suck it hard.

“I’m getting hungry.  How about some dinner?”  He closed the door behind them.

“I have a casserole ready to go in the oven.  It’ll be about an hour and a half.”

“Good.”

He almost groaned at the fire in his groin as he watched her perfect, swaying ass as she walked to the kitchen.

He sat on one of the stools at the marble counter where he had a great view of her moving around the kitchen.

“Hand me a beer,” he said.

She reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer, then placed it in front of him.  As he twisted off the cap and took a swig of the cold, bubbly liquid, she placed the casserole in the oven.  His heart nearly skipped a beat as she leaned over.  He would love to step behind her and glide his aching cock into her right now.

But he took another sip and willed his demanding body to calm down.  She started making the salad and he watched her pretty ass as she chopped veggies and tore the lettuce leaves into bite-sized pieces and tossed it all into a big bowl.  Once she was done, she put the bowl in the fridge and turned to him.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Why don’t you grab a beer and we’ll put a movie on?”

“I don’t drink beer.”

“There are vodka coolers in there, too.”

She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle, then opened it and followed him into the living room.  She walked to one of the armchairs.

“Sit on the couch.”  He grabbed a movie and slid it into the player, then sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him.

She perched on the edge and glanced at him.  “I’m cold.”

“We can turn up the heat.”  He grinned.  “Or I could warm you up.”

She settled onto the couch beside him.  “I’ll survive.”  She sipped her drink then set it on the table in front of them.  After a few moments, however, he noticed she casually snuggled in close to his body for warmth.

They watched the movie together, her naked on the couch beside him, keeping him at a constant state of arousal.  When the timer went off, indicating that dinner was ready, his cock ached so badly he was almost ready to tell her to get dressed.

Almost.

* * *

Marissa added dressing to the salad and tossed it, then served up a big helping of the casserole onto a large plate for him, with salad in a heap beside it, and a more modest amount for herself.  She carried the plates and cutlery to the living room and set his in front of him.

Sitting beside him totally naked watching a movie, with him fully clothed beside her, had her highly aroused.  She had expected him to command her to do something sexual.  At least to suck his big cock, but instead he’d simply watched the movie as if he hadn’t even known she was there, let alone sitting beside him in the nude.  She’d had to fight the urge to stroke her nipples, as much to entice him as to give in to their need to be touched.

But she had held herself back.

She wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to please him by being totally submissive, or because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know she was aroused.

He began to eat as they continued to watch the movie.

“This is very good,” he said.

“Thank you.”  His praise pleased her more than she would have thought.

They continued to eat in silence and once they were done, she gathered up the plates and carried them into the kitchen.  She started running the water to wash the dishes.

“Leave those.”

She turned off the tap.  As she returned to the living room, she noticed he’d started another movie.

“Come over here,” he said.

As she stepped close, he gestured to the floor.  “Sit here, by my knee.”

She sank onto the floor in front of the couch and sat down, her legs to one side.  He drew her back until she leaned against his knee.  As they watched the movie, periodically he would run his hand over her hair, and sometimes he ran his fingers along the side of her neck in an affectionate caress, sending tingles through her.

She found herself longing for his touch.  She could barely concentrate on the movie, willing him to stroke her again.  Willing him to want her.

Finally, the movie came to an end and she was primed for what was to come.  Would he command her to stroke his big cock?  Or was he as turned on as she was and would push her flat on the floor and mount her with one deep thrust, then drive her to ecstasy?

As the credits rolled by, he flicked the television off.

“I’m heading for bed.”  He stood up and she stood, too, anticipation welling inside her.  “After you finish the dishes, you can go to bed, too.  I’ll be in the master bedroom at the end of the hall.  You can sleep in either of the other two bedrooms.”

Shock vaulted through her at his words.  He didn’t want to ravage her in a fit of horny need?  Had her nakedness had no affect on him whatsoever?

But she was sure she’d seen a bulge in those jeans of his.

Maybe.  She thought she had when he’d stood up.

It didn’t really matter.  Whether he had or hadn’t, he was banishing her to do dishes then sleep in another room.

Dejectedly, she walked into the kitchen and filled the sink with soapy water as he disappeared down the hall.  She put away the extra food and washed up the dishes.  Once she was done, she walked to the hall and turned into the bedroom on the right.

It had a big, comfy-looking bed, a big armchair in the corner, a dresser for her clothes, if she’d had any with her, and even an attached bathroom.

It had everything she could want.  Except a big man in the bed.

Except Killer.