I followed her.
This island is safe, but still… She’s so scared of something or someone, so I wanted to make sure she got to her hut safely.
Damn.
Horny and off the clock. Not such a problem when you’re on an island of lovelies.
Except only one woman invades my mind.
Em, with her long dark hair, her searing brown eyes, her milky skin.
Normally I’d hang at the beach or at the bar, people watching, conversing, probably picking up a woman. Usually a staffer. Bedding the art colonists is pretty frowned upon, though I’ll admit I’ve done it a time or two. Or three.
My buddy Lyle is tending bar, so I pony up and take the last available stool next to Nemo, our server from the burger bar. He and Lyle are also my roommates. Well, not roommates so much as suitemates. Staffers share huts, but we each have our own bedroom, which is cool. I’m four years out of college and totally over the “hang a sock on the door if you’ve got a girl inside” days.
Lyle’s a blond surfer boy from LA but Nemo’s half Hawaiian like I am. He looks the part more than I do, though—black hair and dark brown eyes, tan skin. I got my dad’s hazel eyes and slightly fairer skin. The three of us have kind of become known among the staffers as the Island lotharios, to use Em’s word.
“You too, Scotty?” Lyle says, sliding an ice water in front of me. “What are the two most eligible beach bums doing here at the bar when you could be hooking up? What happened to that gorgeous hunkette you were with when you got off duty?”
“She’s tired. Went back to her hut.”
Lyle erupts into boisterous laughter. “You couldn’t seal the deal, huh?”
“You mean the chick you had dinner with?” Nemo asks. “Man, she’s a hottie.”
A hottie? A hunkette? Words I’ve used to describe women many times, but coming from the mouths of Lyle and Nemo, they seem immature and patronizing. I vow never to use them again.
“She’s got class,” I say.
“Too much class to hook up with the likes of you, huh?” Nemo punches my upper arm.
I love these guys, I do, but man, are hookups all they think about?
I can’t escape the irony of my thought.
Hookups are all I thought about until this evening. In fact, I was damned determined to get Em between the sheets.
I let her go.
Sure, I can say it was her obvious baggage, and that’s probably part of it.
But it’s way more than that.
I let her needs take precedence over my own. She wasn’t ready to be with me, so I let her go. I didn’t press her. Normally, I press a little more. I never force a woman, of course, but I can be very persuasive.
“Her name’s—” I stop.
She’s hiding. She probably doesn’t want her name spread everywhere.
“What?” Nemo asks. “What’s her name?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Easy enough to find out. I can get the guest list from Manuel. Which hut is she in?”
For God’s sake. He’s right. Any staffer can find out who she is. “Emily,” I say. “Her name’s Emily. And the two of you keep your hands to yourselves.”
“Why the ‘she wouldn’t tell me’ thing, then?” Nemo asks.
“She’s trying to keep to herself,” I say. “I don’t want you guys bugging her.”
“Dude,” Lyle says, “if you like her, we’ll stay away. Buddies’ rule book and all. Bros before hoes.”
“Would you stop saying that?” I give him an evil eye. “It’s degrading.”
“I gotta agree, Lyle,” Nemo adds.
“Okay, okay.” Lyle straightens his posture. “Buds before chicks. Is that better?”
“Slightly,” I say. “Not really.”
“You’ve got it bad,” Lyle says, mixing a drink for a colonist. “Friends before women. Does that work for you?”
I take a sip of water. “I do like her. Thanks.”
“I’m off in thirty,” Lyle says. “Siri and Angel are having a beach party on the staffer beach. Somehow they got their hands on a couple kegs. We should go.”
“That’s where I’m headed,” Nemo agrees.
“A kegger, guys? Really?” I shake my head.
“Since when are you too good for a kegger?”
“I’m not. It’s just…”
“It’s just your fantasy woman won’t be there,” Nemo says. “Am I right?”
“So invite her,” Lyle says.
“To a staff party? I don’t think so. I don’t need to get my ass fired for fraternizing.”
“You already had dinner with her,” Nemo reminds me.
Good point. We’re actually supposed to mingle with the guests. It’s encouraged. Roy and Charlie Wolfe want this place to seem like a home away from home for the artists. A place where they can study their craft and also have a luxury island experience. Meet people, know the staff members who are helping to make their stay comfortable.
No one brings colonists to the staff parties, though.
“Nah,” I say. “I’ll bach it with you two tonight.”
Siri Campbell and Angel Akina are lifeguards at the beach. Excellent swimmers, both of them, so they have rocking bodies. We call them night and day. Siri was born in Jamaica and has gorgeous dark skin and hair, and Angel, despite her Hawaiian last name, is blond and fair.
And of course they’re both knockouts.
Lyle and Nemo have sampled Siri and Angel, respectively.
I haven’t yet had the pleasure.
Siri, clad in a white bikini that accentuates her gorgeous brown skin, is the first to welcome me.
“Scotty!” She grabs me in a hug and shoves a red plastic cup containing beer in my hand. “Good to see you!”
“You see me every day, Siri.”
“Yeah,” she laughs, “and it’s always good! Welcome to our kegger!”
“Thanks.”
“I can’t believe Angel got her hands on these kegs,” Siri continues. “Her cousin is a distributor, and he sneaked a few extra into the last shipment.”
“Lucky break,” I say.
“Isn’t it?” She gulps a swallow of beer. “Have a good time!” She flits away and joins another group of staffers.
I watch her. Siri Campbell has the best ass on the beach.
Except maybe for Emily’s ass, which I’ve only seen with a wet skirt clinging to it.
It was fine.
Lyle and Nemo are already in party mode and making the rounds. Normally I’d be with them, but something holds me back tonight.
Not something so much as someone.
Within two minutes, though, Nemo finds me and drags me into the circle where he and Lyle are holding court with a bevy of female staffers, Lauren Suvac among them. Lauren’s another bartender, and she and I hooked up once. Nothing serious. She’s a gorgeous blonde with massive tits and a cute spray of freckles across her nose.
“Hey, Scotty.” She puts her hand in mine. “How’s it hanging tonight?”
“Good, Laur. How about you?”
“Feeling kind of lonely.” She squeezes my hand. “And horny.”
Yeah. Normally I’d be all over that. Lauren’s great, because she was an anthropology major in college. She doesn’t believe in monogamy. “There’s just no science to support it,” she told me once. “Most mammalian species never form monogamous relationships. They have different partners for different times in their lives.”
Yeah. I kissed her to get her to shut up.
Funny.
Monogamy doesn’t sound quite so bad to me tonight.
“You interested?” She tugs on my hand.
“Maybe later.” I kiss her cheek quickly. “Want to take a swim?”
“Sure! Last one in the water’s a rotten egg!” She peels off her fire-engine red one piece and runs into the ocean in her birthday suit.
So it’s that kind of party, huh? I disrobe quickly as well and follow her into the water. It’s warm, and the sun has fallen below the horizon, casting a blue veil over everything. Lauren’s huge tits float on the water and draw my gaze.
But…
Been there, done that.
I dive under for a minute, let the water cover my body. When I reappear, Lauren has set her sights on Nemo, who’s joined us in the water.
Just as well. Nemo needs to get laid, and Lauren’s a sure thing.
I, on the other hand?
I don’t need to get laid. However, I desperately want to get laid. By Emily Moreno.
I get out of the water and grab a towel from the stack Siri and Angel provided. I dry off my hair, wrap the towel around my waist, and go in search of my clothes.
Siri grabs one of my butt cheeks. “Best ass on the beach, Scotty.”
“Yours is better.”
She laughs. “Lyle took an informal poll at the bar tonight. You won best guy ass and I won best girl ass.”
“I can’t find any fault with those results.”
“You want to roast marshmallows?” Siri asks. “We started a small bonfire. Got everything for s’mores.”
“Sure. What the hell?” I hastily get back into my shorts and island shirt and follow Siri to the small fire.
We’re allowed to have a bonfire, but only in this one location on the staffers’ beach. The Wolfes are great to all of us. Our own private beach, great living quarters, all food and drink included. I guess that makes up for the meager pay. No tips, either. It’s forbidden. The artists are here to create, not go broke. Roy Wolfe’s words. Of course, a few of them still tip. Lyle and I learned quickly who they were and we give them extra special service.
Still we make enough to get by and put a few bucks each check into savings. With shelter, food, and drink included here, it’s an amazing deal. I was lucky I got hired on Wolfe Island. I take a roasting fork and load it with two marshmallows. Angel and Lyle are among the others around the small fire. Siri and I join them.
“You got any dark chocolate?” I ask Siri.
“Sure thing. I remember you don’t eat Hershey’s.”
“Tastes like sour milk to me,” I say.
“I got you some Special Dark.”
“You’re awesome!” I give Siri a kiss on her smooth cheek.
Funny. I’ve kissed two women’s cheeks tonight. Lauren and Siri. And I felt nothing. Not even a slight stir downstairs.
I’m off my game.
Except I know I’m not.
I’m on my game. Totally on it.
I just have my sights set on another woman.
Once my marshmallows are brown but not burnt, I move them from the fire and slide them onto a graham cracker along with a square of dark chocolate. I top it with another graham cracker, and just as I’m about to shove it into my mouth—
I shift my gaze toward the other side of the beach.
Darkness has fallen, and a lone woman wanders barefoot, right at the shoreline. She’s dressed all in white—a sundress—dark hair falling down her back.
An angel.
A fucking angel on the beach.
I absently drop my s’more in the sand and begin walking.