Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

I'm dreaming again.

Kincaid's office. Moonlight spills in through the blinds, leaving slashes of cold light amidst the darkness. I'm on my knees, the thick rug cushioning me as I reach up and unzip Kincaid's pants in a teasing manner.

I glance up at him, and he's staring down at me with quiet intensity, made all the more feral by the moonlight in his eyes, turning the grey to the color of a grave.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice feeling like fingers down my spine. "Let me use you."

Heat flares between my legs. I want him to keep talking like that.

I want to feel .

I slowly take his dick out of his pants, large, thick, and perfectly sculpted. It's hot to touch in my palm. I give it a squeeze, which makes his nostrils flare.

"Look at you, my little pet," he says through a hiss. "Holding my cock like you've held countless others. But you don't know how to please me, do you? You're not quite good enough. Not yet."

That's what you think.

"Prove your worth to me," he goes on, voice growing hoarse. "Prove you're something more than a useless little slut, a vessel for my pleasure."

"Yes, Doctor," I say, knowing he loves it when I call him that.

I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, the salt of his precum making my taste buds dance. I love taking him like this, feeling every inch of him in such a vulnerable, raw way. Like I'm a heathen, worshipping the devil. I love how he looms above me, all power and control, that I'm subjected to his whims, used solely for his gratification.

"So cum hungry, so desperate," he purrs. "I can smell how wet you are from here."

I moan, pressing my tongue along the ridge as he grabs my hair, making a tight fist as he starts pumping his hips, thrusting into my wet mouth.

"Keep going. Taking my cock like the good little bitch you are."

The praise thrills me, shoots straight to my pussy, and I start writhing in desperation, knowing how it will make him degrade me again.

I need to hear it. To hear both.

I slip my hand between my thighs.

"Disobedient," he growls, yanking my hair in a deliciously painful way. "You know that sweet cunt belongs to me, pet. You know you don't have permission to touch what's mine."

Maybe I want to be punished , I think, sliding my fingers deeper until I feel how wet I am.

I'm coming in seconds.

"Oh god," I yell out into the pillow, my cry muffled. My heart pounds in my ears, my body jerking as the orgasm slams through me.

And then I lift up my head and realize where I am.

Lying on my stomach in bed, the covers kicked to the side.

I remove my hand, my arm sore from having been trapped under my body.

Holy shit. What a fucking dream. First time I've actually woken myself up masturbating.

I turn over, breathing hard. I'm covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

That was wild.

I slowly sit up, trying to will my heart to return to a normal pace. I forgot to write in my diary before bed, but perhaps jotting down my dreams is a good start.

I'm about to turn on the bedside light when suddenly, I hear the floorboards creak outside my room.

I squint, looking at the crack under the door. There's faint light from the hallway, but a shadow is moving, as if someone is passing by.

I get up and walk quietly across the room, my limbs feeling like jelly. I pause with my hand outstretched, too afraid to open it and find someone like Clayton leering outside. God, is it possible that I was moaning really loud, enough to wake someone up? Was I calling out Kincaid's name? Fuck, I hope not.

I place my ear against the door instead, and listen.

Someone is whispering .

I jolt, pulling my head away.

What the fuck was that?!

Fear washes over me like an ice bath. I suck in my breath, feeling frozen on the spot.

Slowly, I find the courage to put my ear against the door again.

There's a low hiss, like someone letting air out of tires, but the hiss sounds a lot like someone—or something—speaking.

Pleeeeeeeeease, it says.

Then, all is silent.

Suffice to say I didn't go back to sleep after that, which wasn't awesome because it was three in the morning. I stayed up with all the lights on, busying myself with a mycology book I had taken from the common room. It was only when first light brightened the darkness at five a.m. that I finally calmed down enough to let myself think about what happened. The problem was, the sex dream and the voice saying please outside the door started to blend together, until I couldn't be sure if the latter had been a dream as well.

It was safer to think it was.

The morning class with Kincaid was weird, but only because I was making it weird—I kept thinking about my dream and his strange behavior last night. Had he gone into my room or not? If he did, why? Did he bring me my shoes, or had they always been there and I overlooked them? The more I try to think about it, the more I can't remember, like everything is becoming a blur.

So I did my best not to stare at him and stayed focused on his lecture about the role of fungi in aquatic web systems and biogeochemistry, all of which were fascinating to me, especially how they relate to dark fungi. My ego wants to think he created that lecture just for me after our conversation, the way it tickled my brain and got all my neurons firing.

Lunch was another hearty meal of turkey and white bean chili, which happens to be one of my favorite dishes. My appetite increased a little, and I was actually able to finish a whole bowl, even though I ate slower than I ever have in my life. Lauren seemed proud of me.

Now, we're all standing on the dock, waiting for Kincaid and Nick. The mycology cohort is supposed to go on a boat expedition to an area that isn't accessible by road and is too far to walk.

"This is exciting," Lauren says to me, a damp breeze messing up her hair. "I hope we see whales."

"I want to see the megalodon," Munawar says. "Jason Statham has nothing on me." In keeping with his promise, he's wearing a shirt that says Me, Mycelium, and I, which he promptly zips up under a puffer jacket. It's chilly out, the fog thick as soup in places, but at least it's not raining.

Kincaid and Nick appear at the top of the ramp and stroll down single file, Kincaid towering over the surfer dude, both of them dressed in heavy-duty rain jackets, Kincaid's olive green while Nick's is bright yellow.

"Looks like you're all dressed for the weather," Kincaid says to us, meeting my eyes for one intense moment, harkening back to my dream. My cheeks burn, and I look away. "If you need hats, gloves, or a poncho, they're in bins on the Zodiacs. You never know when the weather will turn. We'll be splitting up. Munawar, Natasha, Lauren, and Toshio with Nick. Sydney, Patrick, Clayton, Rav, you'll be with me." He gestures to the sleek black boat to our left.

I look at Lauren in surprise that we're being split up, and she grabs my arm in an overly dramatic gesture.

"Noooo, Sydney," she cries. "I'll never let go."

I know she's joking, but I really don't want to be separated from her, especially as I'll be in a group with both Clayton and Kincaid, two people I have very opposing feelings about.

"Life jackets are on your seats," Kincaid adds. "Put them on."

I get into the boat, which looks like it might take tourists whale watching with the two-by-two seating configuration down the middle. There are even straps on the seats to hold us in. I take the first seat and give Rav a grateful smile when he sits down next to me. I like him, and from the way he and Lauren give each other the eye, I know that yet another romance is budding on the compound.

I slip on the life jacket, which barely fits over my boobs, then pull down the harness, clipping me into the seat.

"We'll take it slow out of the inlet," Kincaid says, getting behind the wheel at the back of the boat and yanking the cord on the motor until it roars to life. "There's a raft of otters we don't like to disturb, as well as the herons who like to nest along the shore. They can get quite ornery. Once we get out of the protected waters and past the barrier rocks though, that's when things might get a little bumpy. Remember, that's the North Pacific out there. No other landmass between us and Japan. The wind is picking up a little, so there's going to be some chop, but the swells should be tolerable today. Anyway, we'll let Nick's group go first and be the guinea pigs. They'll radio back if it gets too bad, and we'll stick to the inlets instead."

Rav and I wave to Lauren in unison as Nick's Zodiac pulls away from the dock and heads down the inlet, their wake leaving glassy ripples that spread out toward the shores.

"What are the chances of us seeing whales?" Rav asks Kincaid. "Orcas?"

"There's always a chance, though lately, we're more likely to see humpbacks and greys at the moment," Kincaid replies. "Everyone ready? Hold on."

The boat pulls away from the dock, and soon, we're zipping along at a comfortable speed. The wind is cold, and I regret not grabbing a hat, but it's also exhilarating to be out on the water. We slow as we go past the otter raft, which is basically a bunch of adorable sea otters with chubby, fluffy faces lying on their backs beside each other as they snooze and eat. Possibly the cutest thing I've seen.

We then zoom around an island that lies sentry at the start of the inlet before we approach the fog bank. Being in the front, everything rushes toward me like a roller-coaster ride until my nose is cold and I know my cheeks are stained pink, my hair a mess that keeps escaping the satin scrunchie I've tied it back with.

Soon, rocks appear through the fog, waves crashing over them, giving us our first glance at the wild ocean. The waves build, swells sweeping toward us, and we meet them with a smack, water crashing over the bow. I yelp as I get sprayed, along with Rav, then start laughing.

"Well, that woke me the fuck up." Rav chuckles, wiping the water off his forehead.

We hold on tight, the waves getting smoother and further apart as the boat leaves the inlet, careening up the coast. You can't see much with the wind and sea spray whipping in your face, but to one side, the ocean seems to go on forever, no horizon, only grey. For a moment, I have the disorienting feeling that I'm close to falling off the edge of the Earth.

But then I notice quite a few small fishing boats in the distance, bobbing between the waves, and it feels good to know we're not quite as isolated as it feels. Being at the lodge really makes you feel cut off from the world.

To the other side is the Brooks Peninsula, a long, giant mass of land made of steep, forested slopes, the top covered in clouds. Nick's boat turns inland and heads to a beach close to us, but Kincaid keeps going.

"I know a better beach!" Kincaid yells, his voice barely audible over the wind and engine.

We go further up and around a point until I see a long, wide stretch of cream-colored sand dotted with giant driftwood, the dark green forest behind it. There are a few rocks that Kincaid maneuvers the boat around, but once we get close to shore, we don't drop speed as much as we should.

"Hang on!" he yells.

We crash through the surf, spray flying everywhere, until the Zodiac slides up on the sand, coming to a halt that nearly gives me whiplash.

"I didn't think mycology could be so exciting," Rav jokes.

"If there's no dock, this is the only way to get you off and keep your feet dry," Kincaid says. I glance back to see him lock the engine up out of the water, then stride along the boat and leap over the nose and onto the hard sand, the surf breaking behind us.

Kincaid holds his hand out for me, and I quickly unbuckle myself, slipping my hand into his. His hand is as cold as mine, and yet I still feel a warmth spreading, skin to skin. I swear he even gives it a squeeze, but that could be just him trying to steady me so I don't eat shit when I land in the sand.

Everyone else follows, and we take off our life jackets, tossing them into the boat.

Kincaid turns to face us, handing out pads of paper with golf pencils attached. "This is a very special spot. There's a cliff wall about a hundred feet into the forest, running parallel to the beach. It's perpetually wet with rain runoff, and the forest is mainly hemlock, which makes it a favorite of all types of fungi. Stay between here and the cliff, make lots of noise with your bear bells, and you should be fine. Spread out at least several yards between each other to ensure we're getting a proper survey."

"There's no rules about foraging for the Madrona fungi?" Rav asks. "Because Nick certainly frowned upon that."

Kincaid nods, his gaze going to mine. "I have been briefed about what Lauren and Sydney discovered yesterday." I wince. The way he says it sounds like it wasn't a good briefing. "We won't be foraging at any rate; this is purely surveying. If you do find something, I brought my Polaroid camera, otherwise just make a note on your notepad. Don't touch anything."

Everyone starts walking off while Kincaid takes the rope from the Zodiac and fastens it around a giant piece of driftwood halfway up the beach.

"Will that hold?" I ask, wanting to stay and talk to him instead of surveying with the group.

"Should do," he says with a grunt, pulling the Zodiac a couple of feet. He's hella strong. "We'll only be here about an hour. The tide is slack right now, best time for a beach landing. By the time it starts going out, we'll be ready to go."

He finishes and walks back to me, dusting his hands off.

"Black runners," he comments, eyeing my shoes. "Smart. White ones get dirty very fast out here."

I can't help but stare at him, remembering last night. "This is going to sound odd, but…" I pause, waiting until everyone else walks out of earshot. "Were you in my room last night?"

He doesn't even blink. "And why would you think that?" he asks, his voice flat.

"You ran past me down the stairs, didn't even look at me. Before that, I heard a door close and someone locking it. It sounded like it was my door."

"I had to go into Christina's room to retrieve something for her. It was a pressing matter." He frowns, folding his arms with a hint of a smile on his lips. "I suppose I should be flattered. First, you think I'm stalking you outside your window, now you think I'm breaking into your room. Tell me, did I take anything from you?"

"No," I say, feeling flustered and wishing I hadn't brought it up. "Just these shoes appeared when I couldn't find them before." I hold out my foot.

"So, you think I went into your room and gave you your shoes? Which I assume means you think I have some sort of foot fetish and stole them to begin with?"

"Well, I do now," I joke, cheeks burning.

He holds my gaze for a few seconds.

"Did you take your pills this morning?"

I shake my head. "No, actually, I'm following your rules. Are you going to blame this conversation on that?"

He laughs. It's a lively, genuine sound that makes my stomach flip, such a contrast to his composed exterior. "Perhaps. Did you write in your diary?"

"I forgot. But I will. I promise."

"What about your appetite? Your sleep?"

I don't bother filling him in about not getting back to sleep because I was too scared.

"Still tired, but my appetite has returned."

"Good," he says. He sucks in his lower lip and watches me for a moment, like he's about to say something else. Then he nods at the forest. "You better hurry."

I take that as a sign to leave him alone.

I nod and then scurry along the white sand until I'm entering the forest. I have a feeling that if it was a sunny day, this beach would look tropical. The air is filled with birdsong and the jingle of bear bells, mine attached to the bottom of my jacket. I try to stay away from the others. I don't want to go too far, but I like the idea of exploring by myself. It's always more fun for me to discover and survey on my own, going at my own pace and having conversations in my head that I don't have to share with anyone.

I head to the right, where the slope isn't as sharp and where a creek empties out into the ocean. I walk through the hemlocks until I'm at the base of the cliff, but I must be at the tail end of it because it's not very high.

A twig snaps behind me.

I whirl around.

There's nothing but the trees.

Trunks, branches, and shadows.

But one of the shadows is shaped like a man.

And I realize someone is there .

Standing completely still.

Staring at me.