Page 35 of Sinners Retreat

“It’s just...There was a murder today, and now I’m a little scared.”

“We literally know the person who murdered him. He just told us. Not to mention the fact that we’re all on this island so that we can kill people.”

“I know, but it’s just so quiet in my villa, and it’s so dark outside and?—”

“Just sleep on the couch,” I finally say, if for no other reason than to stop her incessant rambling.

Before she can say anything else, I go to my bedroom and close the door, cutting off any more communication. Everything is a mess. I can’t keep my panties dry or my brain functional when I’m around Ezra, I’ve just lied to the event organizer, which almost guarantees he won’t be of any help in my search for AA, and now I’ve been forced into a sleepover with the bane of my existence.

As soon as I’ve changed into a thin tank top and a comfortable pair of granny panties, I crawl beneath the covers and close my eyes. My brain continues to whirl with thoughts of how I can find the Adonis. A few people can be ruled out, such as the old German guy who likes to air his undercarriage in a Speedo.

I can also ax the guy they call Ice Pick. Unless the woman had nineteen shots of Patron before witnessing the man leaving the scene, there’s no way she found him attractive. Per the single witness, the Adonis could melt panties with a single smoldering gaze.

Ezra and Bennett are also off the suspect list. They aren’t indiscriminate killers. Like me, they have more discerning palates. If I pay attention to who kills the yellow jumpsuits, that will narrow the options even more.

Satisfied that I’ve gained some ground in the planning phase of my mission, I try to let my mind drift to sleep.

It’s no good. I’m too wired.

Maybe if I get myself off, I can clear my head and stop thinking. I always sleep well after a good orgasm.

I ease out of bed and retrieve my toy from the bag. My thumb fiddles with the buttons until the little device buzzes to life. It’s a lot louder than I remember it being, and I shut it off before Cat can hear. I’ll have to work myself up to the climax, then use the toy for the big finish.

Climbing into bed, I lie on my back and allow my mind to linger on visions of Ezra. How he looked with his shirt off as he stood on the beach. The way his arms glistened when he reared back and pushed a fist into Eighties’ face. The wild way he must have looked while disemboweling the guy for speaking ill of me.

God, he’s so perfect.

My right hand dips into my panties, and my left hand cups my breast. I begin working myself up to thoughts of Ezra overme, his sweat dripping onto my skin and his hand around my throat. He unlocked a new kink for me, and I want to experience it again, even if only by myself.

I raise my hand to my throat and try to choke myself the way he choked me, but it’s just not the same. I even consider looping a belt around the bedpost and choking myself that way, but that isn’t how I want my life to end.

Frustrated, I grip the toy and push it below the comforter. If I throw a pillow over my lap, maybe it will muffle the sound. I try it, and it seems to work.

In my overexuberance as I lose myself to good vibrations and more thoughts of Ezra’s sweaty body, the pillow eventually slides off my lap. I’m too close to stop now, so I keep going. I’m about to fly off the edge when a light knock comes from my door.

I scramble to shut off the toy and lower my legs before the door opens. Cat enters just as I’m shoving myself to an inconspicuous sitting position.

“Did you hear that?” she whispers.

I look around. “Hear what? The peaceful silence? The lullaby of the ocean? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

She comes and sits on the edge of my bed. “I was almost asleep, but then I heard what sounded like someone running a buzz saw. What if they’re dismembering people out there?”

Instead of covering my face with a pillow and screaming, I try to remain calm. To be fair, she looks genuinely frightened. “Cat, they probablyareout there dismembering people. Because this is a murder retreat. Where they kill people. Remember?”

“I know, but it’s still scary. You’re used to this stuff. I’m not. Maybe I’ve gotten myself in over my head. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

Truer words have never been spoken, but now is not the time.

“Would it help if you sleep in the bed and I sleep on the couch?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah, because you’ll be closer to the door. Not that I want you to get murdered first, but you have a better chance of fending off a killer than I do.”

The girl has an odd way of handing out compliments, but I’ll take it. And she’s not wrong. I bet she doesn’t even sleep with a weapon by the bed.

I grab my things, sneak my toy into my bag, and shuffle off to the couch as Cat situates herself in my comfortable king-size bed. The couch isn’t what I would call a luxury accommodation, but at least it’s quiet out here.

A little too quiet, I realize as I settle in.

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