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  He looked at her eyes, not at her cleavage. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He traced a line down her neck with his finger, then continued down to her chest. Finally he undid another button. Cool air caressed her breasts. Every place else got a lot warmer. She gulped some orange juice.

  “Good morning, Teresa. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes. Why did you get me up?”

  “Good question. Here’s one of mine. Have you been doing any digging at the cove on the other side of the island?”

  She shook her head.

  “Does Gallagher have any reason to do any?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Curious.”

  “Why? And did you sleep well?”

  “No. I almost never do. My friends learn not to ask.”

  “Why?” she asked, unable to let that go.

  “Because they get tired of hearing the honest answer.”

  “Maybe you’d sleep better with someone warm in your bed.”

  “What are you doing today?” He touched her again where his finger had left off the time before, and continued down. He couldn’t touch skin all the way, because her bra was in the way, but he made it to the next button. Somehow having her bra showing was more embarrassing than revealing deep cleavage. He’d seen her naked. She didn’t think he’d seen her quite so disheveled, although she wasn’t sure what she looked like after they’d made love.

  She remembered Gallagher’s suggestion that she show him what she did. “My job is to go around the island some more, trying to see what spots would look good in the movie, and how the camera has to be lined up to avoid showing things that don’t belong, like the house. Or that shed at the cove. Is there any chance it could be moved, or is it a permanent structure? Of course the movie would pay to have it put back up.”

  He scowled briefly and then shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose it could be redone. It’s on a concrete block, but you could cover the block over with sand during the shoot.”

  “Or pitch Odysseus’ tent on it.”

  He chuckled.

  “There’s another good sandy place on the east side of the island. It’s uncovered at low tide, but I’m not sure about high tide and I don’t think there’s any clear path to it.” Of course she could wait for the right moment, but this was an ideal opportunity to get some time with Kyle that wasn’t in bed. “Do you think you could take me to it in a boat and let me get some pictures? And maybe tell me what it’s like when the tide is higher?”

  Kyle smiled. “Yeah, I could do that.” He leaned forward and looked in her cereal bowl. She scooped the last spoonful into her mouth. “Ready to go?”

  “Sure.” She picked up her empty bowl and glass and put them in the dishwasher. He followed with the carton and bottle, taking them to the fridge. Without thinking about it she rebuttoned two buttons on her shirt, and then looked at him hoping he didn’t notice, expecting a scowl.

  Instead, he grinned at her. That’s probably worse.

  “My butt still hurts,” she said. “Honest. Please don’t spank me.”

  “Oh, I won’t. Close your eyes.”

  Uh-oh. Her heart skipped a beat. Reluctantly she closed them. She was scared of what he might do. At the same time, the thought of being under his control aroused her, making her breasts tingle and her pussy moisten.

  When she heard a drawer open she had to fight not to open her eyes to see what was going on. He tugged at her shirt. Snip. Tug. Snip. Tug. Snip.

  “Put out your hand.”

  She put out her hand, palm upward. The last time she’d been asked to close her eyes and put out her hand like that had been in grade school, and it had not been a pleasant experience. So she was relieved when what was put in her hand wasn’t wet and wasn’t slimy. It was featherlight.

  “Open.”

  She opened her eyes and looked in her hand. Three pearl-white buttons nestled there.

  “There’s a sewing kit in this drawer,” he said, putting back a sharp pair of scissors and closing the drawer, “if you want them back on before you go. But for now, they stay off.” He reached over and unbuttoned another button. “Let’s see if you can keep this button. It stays as long as you don’t try to use it.”

  She might as well not have been wearing a shirt at his point, as far as she was concerned. She looked down and saw that most of her pale-blue bra was uncovered. “Not exactly an elegant look,” she said.

  “Might be better without the bra,” he agreed. “Or without the shirt. Take care of one of those and meet me at the boat.” He turned without waiting for her to acknowledge and walked away.

  I’m going to have to learn not to complain around him. It never quite ends up working the way I intend. She supposed he’d addressed her complaint. It wasn’t about the skin she left uncovered—on the boat she’d be away from Gallagher’s eyes except at a distance, and if she kept the bra on she’d be as covered as she would be in a swimsuit. Kyle had seen it all and she didn’t mind him seeing it all again. What she had really been saying was that she wanted control back. He was telling her it wasn’t going to happen.

  She took her time heading for the boat. Did she even want that control or was she acting reflexively? She knew the answer. By the time she got to the small boat, he was sitting in the pilot’s seat, waiting for her, his shirt stripped off and replaced with a bright-orange life vest. He looked up and started to speak. “You haven’t—”

  She knelt on the dock, ignoring the hardness of the wood against her knees. “Please, Sir,” she interrupted. “Would you decide please, if I am to wear the shirt, the bra or neither?”

  His eyes widened but she saw the twinkle of a smile in them. “Take both off and hand them to me.”

  She knew there was a chance he’d say that. She unbuttoned the last two buttons of the shirt and unhooked her bra. She handed both to him.

  He put out a hand to help her into the boat and she sat down next to him. Even from a distance, it would be obvious she wasn’t wearing anything. Gallagher would be talking about her for the rest of his life. She shrugged. Movie people were pretty open-minded and there was always a wilder story to tell.

  He pulled a bottle of sunblock from under the seat and rubbed it all over her skin. His slick hands wandered over her breasts and back with seemingly equal interest, careful to cover every inch of her. Her nipples hardened against his palm, aroused by his touch and the way the seat stung her bottom. She was getting turned-on again. She’d never thought about sex so much before.

  To her disappointment, he stopped. To her surprise, he pulled a life vest over her head and strapped it on. She ought to be happy she was decent again, but she wasn’t.

  “You’re a good girl,” he said.

  That made her happy. As he started the engine, she wondered why that meant so much to her coming from him when she’d happily rebuke any of a number of men for saying the same thing to her.

  He piloted the boat to just off the stretch she was talking about and killed the engine. Moving, the little craft felt very stable, but as it slowed down it seemed considerably more wobbly and she decided against her original plan of standing up in the boat to take pictures.

  She snapped the first few seated and focused on her job before she glanced over at him. He was watching her with interest but he looked worn out. He wasn’t kidding about not sleeping well, she realized. She would have thought he’d have been as exhausted by their play the night before as she was, without the challenge of finding a side to sleep on that hadn’t been smacked. He should have slept like a baby. Why didn’t he?

  “So which part of The Odyssey is supposed to take place on Submission Island, exactly? I’ve been trying to imagine a one-eyed giant wandering about the place and it doesn’t fit, and besides, there’s no cave on the island. Is this the part with Circe?”

  She shook her head. “The shipwreck, toward the end. I think they are finishing butchering the Circe story as we speak on an island off the coast of Colombia. Stegner loves the p
lace for some reason. I found two better places and he settled on that one anyway. Maybe because it was close to the cave where they did the Cyclops, but I wasn’t involved in the decision at all.”

  “Is the penteconter there?”

  “No, I think it’s on its way here already.”

  Kyle nodded. “I don’t remember much about the shipwreck.”

  “The gods punish Odysseus’ crew for eating some sacred cows—literal sacred cows—and wreck his ship, killing all the crew. Odysseus ends up on an island with a goddess named Calypso. So what we need is a place to run a ship aground, basically. We can dummy up a jagged rock and then break the ship up with no one on it and film people floundering in the water—”

  “Getting stung by jellyfish.”

  She nodded. “See, it’s crazy! I’ve already told Stegner he’ll need a medical team standing by, although I think he believes he can use nets to reduce the problem. But it is a beautiful island, and that’s what Stegner does. Lovely sets and lots of skin, some pretension to art and easy on the plot. The attraction of The Odyssey is that Odysseus ends up sleeping with half the women of the Mediterranean. After the shipwreck, there will be scenes of Calypso and Odysseus making love. My understanding is that the starlet playing Calypso will be topless the entire time.”

  Kyle smiled. “That’s how I prefer my goddesses, but alas, a life vest was more practical.”

  “Calypso and Odysseus were alone on the island.”

  “You could—” He stopped.

  “I could what?”

  “Never mind. It was a silly idea. Let’s enjoy what we have now.”

  She sighed and took some more photographs because it was easier than looking at him. Had he been about to invite her to stay, or come again sometime?

  “So you’re thinking shipwreck here and lovemaking at the cove on the far side of the jungle?”

  “And possibly a naked chase down the path. But that would be Stegner’s decision, I just offer suggestions and try to figure out the right places to do things. I’ll size up both places for the shipwreck and pretty much every place you can fit two bodies for the rest. You have beautiful orchids here. I imagine Stegner will want to get them in somehow.”

  Kyle idled the engine again and brought it to a low purr.

  “What’s up?”

  “You need more camera angles, right?”

  She smiled. “Well, yes.”

  “You focus on your work and I’ll pilot the boat. And when you think you have enough, let me know and we’ll see how this spot works for lovemaking.”

  “Oh! But Gallagher…”

  “Is going to get here how? We’ve got the boat, the tide’s coming in, and he’s not going to hack through the jungle. We may be out in the middle of nowhere, love, but we have plenty of privacy. I have a toy in my pocket and I want to see how you react to it.”

  She turned back to look at the landing spot and started taking pictures again. Did he expect her to concentrate after that comment? It was hard enough sitting down on the hard seat of the boat. Her bottom felt deliciously warm and tingly and her pussy was wet. His hint of toys and sex made her squirm.

  She clicked the camera a few times on automatic pilot, trying to remember the script from the movie. Maybe the ship could get wrecked on the mangrove trees. Stegner would probably do something with CGI so it didn’t matter. In a few years he’d probably be filming beach scenes in Montana or someplace, and everything would be even less real than the starlets’ boobs.

  That made her think of Stella Munro, the Playboy model making her acting debut in the role of Calypso. She would be gone when Stella arrived on the island, and she had no particular reason to think that Stella would make a play for Kyle. And it wasn’t as if she had a claim. But the idea of Stella on the island with him still twisted a knot in her gut.

  Enjoy what we have now. It was good advice. She kept taking pictures until it made no sense to take any more.

  “Done, Sir.”

  Chapter Seven

  Teresa watched as Kyle steered the boat to shore. He killed the engine and let it glide in. He obviously knew the place to do it without wrecking the boat. He jumped out and splashed to shore, quickly tying a line to a mangrove. She could see a worn line on the tree where rope had been tied before. Maybe he’d taken other dates here. There was no point in speculating.

  He scanned the water and waded back to the boat to help her out. He carried her back to the beach, taking all the risk of stings on himself and even keeping her clothes reasonably dry. Not what I would have expected of a sadist. But she had no doubt that was what he was. He enjoyed giving her pain. He was smiling. Whatever he had in his pocket, she expected it to hurt.

  Worse, she wanted it to. She’d always thought sex was a nice enough way to pass the time, but she didn’t crave it the way she did now. Not just any sex. Rough sex. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last time and already she wanted it again.

  He got her to dry sand and took the life vest off her. The cool air brushed against her bare breasts, making her nipples harden, but it wasn’t exactly cold. She’d always thought of tropical islands as being hot, particularly when she saw pictures of topless natives, but it wasn’t hot either. It had been hot in the boat, with the naked sun beating down, but here the edge of the forest provided enough shade.

  “Strip.” His sudden sharp command cut through her reverie. She locked gazes with him for a moment and then lowered hers.

  “Yes Sir,” she said softly. He obviously expected to be obeyed without argument. Her instincts made her want to challenge him, but every time she made the decision to obey she felt as if weight had been taken off her shoulders. She pulled open the snap on her jeans and pulled down the zipper. She toed off her sandals. Then she shimmied out of her jeans and panties. As she did so, he shucked his own life vest and his shirt, and her pulse raced at the sight of his six-pack abs and hard chest. Beauty was more than skin-deep, but lovely skin didn’t hurt her desire.

  His put one arm around her and pushed his other hand between her legs. “You’re wet,” he told her.

  She blushed.

  “I love that you get aroused so easily.”

  I’ve never gotten aroused easily. But she couldn’t deny the evidence either. She shifted her feet, parting her legs wider for him. But rather than pushing his fingers into her, he pulled his hand back.

  “Kneel here, Teresa.”

  She went to her knees. Every time she obeyed a direction, it became easier. More automatic. It was scary in a way, but she didn’t feel she was losing herself. Instead, it was as if she was finding out who she’d been all along. She tried not to think about whether it was possible to be herself without Kyle or someone like him. There weren’t very many people like him. Looking straight ahead, she saw that his zipper was right in front of her, level with her lips. She wanted to please him. To be ordered to please him. She licked her lips and then looked up at him and licked them again, for show this time. His eyes widened. She tried not to look smug at his reaction.

  He unzipped and pushed his pants down an inch. His cock fell toward her, half hard and straightening as she watched. She leaned forward, wanting to gobble him up and feel him harden the rest of the way in her mouth but not sure if she should wait to be told. He lifted his cock and brushed her lips with the tip. That was close enough to an order. She kissed it and then took it inside, savoring the taste of him. Wanting to take him deep, she had to fight back a moment of panic as he neared the back of her throat.

  He ran his hand through her hair. Part of her wanted to pull back, get some oxygen and stop from gagging. And yet if he pushed her head and gave her no choice—she wanted that too. Her eyes watered. She froze.

  “Easy, girl, breathe. Through your nose.”

  She took a few deep breaths and that helped her relax. She didn’t have to pull back. She couldn’t take him all in but she could at least take some. Lifting her hand toward him, she raised her eyebrows in an attempt to ask t
he question her mouth was too full to ask.

  He smiled. “Yes, you may.”

  She wrapped her fist around his shaft so that the side of her finger touched her lip, marking the spot where she could go. Maybe with practice she could take more. She slid back, but to create friction, not to get relief. Then she pressed her tongue firmly against his underside and moved forward, letting him stretch her lips. He was totally hard now. I did that. She pulled back again, and this time he pushed her forward, his hand gentle but firm on the back of her head. She tightened her fist slightly but didn’t panic. She was safe, and she loved the feel of him pushing her, controlling her.

  “This wasn’t in my plan,” he said. “But it means we’ll be here longer. I’ll still do everything I intended. And it’s too good to pass up. You’re a wonderful cocksucker, Teresa.”

  She blushed and swelled with pride. Is it the sort of thing one takes pride in? I do. At least right now and right here. She moved her fist closer to the base of his cock. She couldn’t take much more of him and hold it, but as long as she knew she was pulling right back, she’d be okay. But the hand against the back of her head let her know she was living dangerously. She didn’t have control of when she got to pull back. That excited her too.

  His cock throbbed against her tongue as he pushed her faster. She wouldn’t have a choice about taking his load with his hand there either. She couldn’t pull back the moment he came. However he tasted she’d have to deal with it. But not having a choice felt so freeing. He was close. His breathing was ragged. She felt his hands tighten on her head.

  Suddenly he flooded her mouth. It missed her tongue and landed on the back of her throat. She pulled back as the spurt triggered her gag reflex, but she couldn’t. He held her tight—not quite all the way down. Her nose ached from the sudden scent and she felt his come was going to go right up it if she didn’t do something. Instinctively she swallowed and the warm thickness trickled down. Some reached her tongue and rounded out the taste of him, salty and hot. She swallowed more as he kept coming, and somehow the pride came back. Wonderful cocksucker. She could do this. She swallowed some more. His hands relaxed but she didn’t feel a need to pull back anymore.