Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kindra

A s the sun rises higher, so does the humidity. When I couple that with the strange chirps and calls whistling over the whisper of our footfalls on the overgrown path, I can almost imagine I'm deep in the Amazon rather than an island in the middle of the ocean.

Speaking of the overgrown path, it appears we've gone off trail. Tree roots twist and stretch underfoot, and I can't see the sky through the foliage.

"Do you even know where we are?" I ask as I swat a large leaf away from my face.

"Of course, pet. I've been coming to this island since the Sinners Retreat began."

Fair point. Not all of us are here on false pretenses, after all.

We travel a bit further. The trees begin to thin, and water rushes somewhere in the distance. Up ahead, the ricketiest bridge I've ever seen dangles between two cliffs. Gnarled knots hold together the planks of weathered wood that make up the footholds.

Ezra leans back on the balls of his feet and smiles. "Welcome to Galloway Bridge. Want to know how it got its name?"

"The blind man who made it was named Galloway?"

Ezra laughs and shakes his head. "The first year it was bridge five-three-eight because Cattle number five-three-eight fell to his death during construction. The second year it was Fisherman's bridge. The Fisherman was a serial killer who also had very poor balance. Now, it's Galloway bridge. Last year, Jim brought in a silent investor. Needless to say, it was more than just the deal that fell through on that one."

Well, that's fucking dark.

I peer past the bridge, at the dense growth crowding the other side. "What's over there?"

"That's part of the hunting grounds."

"What's the hunt? I've heard it mentioned a few times now."

"The highlight of the resort stay. Jim takes all the remaining Cattle to this isolated part of the island and sets them loose. They disperse here and across the bridge."

"So if I sleep in tomorrow, the only thing between me and a rapist is a little bit of jungle and this poor excuse for a bridge?"

"It's nothing to worry about, pet. Jim has a few goons who like to lurk the perimeter. They take out anyone who tries to slip by."

"Point taken. But what happens if they stay out in the jungle? Like, can they survive out there?"

"If anyone survives—and that doesn't happen often—they get an opportunity to work on the island. They're fitted with trackers so that Jim knows where everyone is at all times. The cannibal chef? He's the rare survivor."

"What if your friend survives?"

"Gary? No, Gary won't survive. Bennett won't let him after what he's done."

"How are you even so sure of what he's done?"

"I have more than enough proof for his death warrant. I'm a PI, remember?" Ezra grips a branch, holding it out of the way as I duck under it and step closer to the bridge.

"Oh, right. That's how you found your brother."

I have plenty of time to get to know the skeletons in Ezra's closet, so I stop with the personal questions. Right now, I'm more interested in seeing what waits on the other side of that bridge.

"Can we go over there? To the hunting ground?" I ask.

Ezra clams up, though it takes everything in him to play it cool. He stuffs a shaking hand into his pocket, but not before I witness his rare weakness.

"There's only one way over to that section of the island," he says, "and it involves taking the bridge."

"Is the big bad Crumpet Killer afraid?" I walk my fingers up his chest and touch his chin.

He smirks and pulls off his glasses so he can clean them on his shirt. "I don't want it to be the Ezra Carter bridge next year, so why don't I show you another of the island's hidden gems?" He holds the branch out of my way again, and we return to the jungle.

We follow the same non-existent path back the way we came, but then Ezra takes a right at a tree. I'm not sure how he knows where to turn, as all the trees look identical to me. I'm about to ask if he's sure he knows where he's going when the sound of rushing water reaches my ears again. Then we step into a clearing, and I can hardly breathe.

I never should have doubted him.

Stunned into silence, I stand in awe of the island's hidden beauty. Massive hibiscus plants have been left to grow wild near the water, dotting the greenery with bright splashes of red, orange, and pink. Moss grows on the rocks jutting from the water, which is a blue so dark and deep I can't see below its rippling surface.

A waterfall rushes down the side of a tall cliff and lands in a large basin below. It's not Niagara Falls, but it doesn't have to be. It's a tropical oasis for Ezra and me.

Ezra begins stripping off his shirt, and now I'm stunned into silence for another reason. Does he plan to go for a swim?

"I didn't wear a swimsuit," I say.

"Neither did I." He pulls off his shorts.

No. He certainly did not.

He slips his fingertips beneath the hem of my shirt, and, with a featherlight touch, he begins to lift. I slam my hands over his to stop him as my eyes scan for the people who could be hiding behind all these rocks and trees. He's gotten me to loosen up quite a bit, but I'm not sure I'm ready to go skinny dipping.

"I can't strip here," I whisper. "Someone could see me."

Ezra looks around, turning a full circle and giving me a glimpse of his perfect backside and that horrible tattoo. He even has those sexy dimples above his ass cheeks. I still can't believe this British choirboy has such a devilish streak to him.

When he faces me again, he shrugs his shoulders. "I can scare the birds off if you're that shy, but I'm not sure what I'm expected to do about the fish."

"Why don't you be a good boy and go for a swim while I sit on this rock and watch you, hmm?" I move to sit, but he grabs my arm and pulls me against his naked body.

"A good boy, eh? I can't say I've ever been very good."

He hardly completes his sentence before his mouth presses against mine. I relax in his hold and lean against his sun-soaked body as sparks zip through my limbs.

As he pulls away, my resolve—and knees—weaken.

"I'm not going to win this one, am I?" I ask.

He kisses my forehead. "Not a chance. Now strip."

After situating his perfect bare ass on the very rock I wanted to sit on, he turns his full attention to me.

I've never stripped for a man in the middle of a fucking jungle, so I hope he can bear with me as I gather the nerve. I start with my shirt. It seems the easiest place to begin. There isn't much to it, so I just rip it off.

"Slowly, my pet," he says. "We have nowhere to be."

Giving him my back, I unfasten my shorts and ease them down my thick thighs. I can't see him, but I hear the deep groan he utters as I bend at the waist.

"Have I ever told you how much I adore your body?" he asks.

"Possibly," I say as I untie my laces and toe off my boots. "But a girl never gets tired of hearing it."

Wearing only a thin lace bra and some barely there panties, I step into him. His erection speaks as loudly as his words, showing me just how perfect he believes me to be.

He leans forward and nips my stomach. "Take off the rest. I want to see all of you."

"You said to go slowly, so I was thinking maybe I could swim in this, then take off the rest when we're back at the villa." I rush to get the words out as his kisses travel lower. "But maybe I can just take them off."

I reach behind me to unfasten my bra, but he stands and swats my hands away. I expect him to use one hand to do that snazzy fuckboy trick where they unfasten your bra with the flick of their dirty fingers, but he doesn't. He fumbles with the clasp like a gentleman.

As the lace falls away, my breasts relax. His hands are there to cup them, gently squeezing as his fingertips seek out my pebbled nipples. Heat courses between my legs.

He leans over and begins kissing my breasts, then moves down my body. His mouth guides the way, cutting a path toward my panties. Then they're gone too.

Realizing how naked I am, I hurry for the water and nearly slip on a rock. Ezra is right behind me and catches me before I can crash down and break my neck.

"First day on your new legs?" he asks.

I grip his hand for dear life and step forward again. "No, but if I'm not careful?—"

The rocks cease to be, and down I go. Apparently, it was impossible to see the bottom of the basin because it doesn't fucking exist.

I sputter upward and swipe the hair from my face. Ezra holds his hand out for me, but he doesn't stop laughing as he hauls me back onto the rocks in the shallows.

"Let's walk a little further away from the falls," he says as he guides me. "The water is a touch deeper over there, but not as deep as the well you just fell into, Timmy."

I swat his arm and laugh along with him. What else can I do? Despite feeling and looking like a sack of kittens just saved from the river, something about Ezra just makes me...happy.

At the edge of the pool, we ease into the water together. I press my back against a large rock that almost creates a sort of chair. His hands slide down my body, and I brace myself against the rock as he lifts my hips and dips his head below the surface.

Bubbles rise between my legs, and the tickling sensation feels like one thousand touches against my bare skin. Then his tongue glides between my lips, encasing me in warmth.

I reach back and grip the rough rock while catching a glimpse of my reflection in the water. My rippling rolls stare back at me. My nipples are mildly off center, and my breasts are a bit too saggy for my liking. How can he see me the way he does?

But then his tongue washes away any insecurity as he devours me beneath the water.

Seconds later, he breaks the surface and takes in air. His mouth engulfs my nipple, sucking and nipping, but it's not enough.

"Please," I moan. "I need more."

"My pleasure."

He disappears again, and goddamn, it feels amazing to have him between my legs. Ezra never shuts up, and that skill seems to translate to the way his tongue moves on me. Like he's telling a story on my clit.

While I'm still cross-eyed with pleasure, he pulls me lower so that I'm floating on my back while he devours me. The water muffles all sound, and I can't help but squeeze my thighs around his head and blink as I see stars.

Just as I teeter on the edge of an orgasm, he comes up for air again.

"Haven't you ever heard of engaging in foreplay like a normal person?" I pant.

"Nothing about either of us is normal, pet. There's a time and a place for boring sex, and a time and a place for waterfall foreplay."

I can't argue with that.

Ezra moves his hand from my lower back, and I let my body sink. He pulls me into him. With my legs around his waist, his length presses against my pussy. Despite the chill in the water, he's had no trouble maintaining a rock-hard erection.

Unwinding my legs from his waist, I smile up at him. "Your turn."

Using his powerful body like a buddy line, I lower myself until my mouth meets his dick. Whenever I let go of his hips, however, my body begins to rise to the surface. Ezra recognizes the problem and scoots back so that he can sit on a rock while holding me below the water.

We work out a system. I suck him until I'm nearly drowning, and then he pulls me up. It's going swell until I'm ripped out of the water by my arm.

But then I look down and realize Ezra is still sitting on the rock, the look on his face showcasing the perplexity I feel. As I dangle above the water, I turn to identify my captor...and I come face to face with Ice Pick.

"You can't drown the other participants!" he shouts as he starts to drag me to shore. I wriggle in his hold, but I can't get free.

"I was letting him!" I shout, and his meaty hand finally releases my arm.

I tumble back into the water, but I don't bother fussing about my predicament. I just sink lower to cover my breasts. Humiliated doesn't begin to cover it, least of all my nudity. If the heat from my full-body blush sends the water into a rolling boil, I won't be surprised.

"Ice Pick," Ezra says with a smile. "I wasn't actually drowning her, though I think she'd like that."

I swim closer to Ezra and punch him in the side. Shut up , I mouth.

Ice Pick spins his namesake in his hand before he sets it in the grass. Then he whips his shorts down his sunburned legs. God, I've seen enough dicks on this vacation to last a lifetime.

Though I haven't spent much time with Ice Pick, I know he isn't fabulous at reading the room. He proves me right with his next action. Completely nude, he takes a running leap into the pool.

Water rushes toward me and slams into my face. As I'm sputtering and scraping pond water from my eyes, I can only imagine some sort of Jaws -meets-porn mashup. I scoot closer to Ezra so that I'm practically in his lap. If Ice Pick wants to bite anything of mine, he'll get a bite of Ezra right along with it.

Ice Pick pops up with a hearty laugh, water dripping from his mustache. "You're a pretty thing, sunshine," he says with a smile as he drifts toward me.

Ezra calmly slips between us. "That pretty thing is mine , Ice," he says with a smile. "I like you, but I don't like you enough to share her attention."

Ice Pick raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't realize you had a claim staked already. No disrespect intended, Ezra. I guess I missed nearly the whole damn retreat, including your budding romance. I've been holed up in my villa since shortly after the Olympics. I think I ate something bad the first night."

Ate something bad? Like a person, perchance?

Ezra nods. "At least you didn't miss the hunt."

"Even if I wasn't feeling better, I wouldn't miss the hunt for anything." Ice Pick moves closer to us. A little too close. I can see his tiny soldier underneath the water, and he's little more than a helmet. God bless it.

"It's sure to be a big to do," Ezra says with a nod.

How is he just casually carrying on a conversation right now? I couldn't be more uncomfortable with our group nudity. Three's for sure a crowd.

"Well, I read this wrong," Ice Pick says with a fading smile. "I think I'd better head back to the beach. Chef's making a sandwich board for lunch."

Did he think this would end up being some group orgy? No thanks. I'm surprised I've let one psychopath sink inside me. I'm not a fucking pin cushion of self-loathing here. I don't accept all comers.

We say our awkward parting words, and Ice Pick swims back to shore. He dresses and departs as Ezra and I look anywhere but at each other.

"Well, that was beyond uncomfortable," I say once we're alone. Our amazing sexcapade is a distant memory now.

"Sorry. We killers are a bit shit at reading social cues."

"What part of this said to join us?" I ask, motioning between us.

"If I were him, I would have tried as well." He swipes his hand down his face. "I'm guessing you want to head back now?"

I begin swimming for shore. "Yeah, that sandwich board is sounding mighty good."