Page 28 of Revive
“The ones who work fucking hard to earn their keep do. There’s no slacking around here, Ms Hutton. We’re a serious enterprise.”
“Fuck! There’s no sliding into this slowly?”
“Didn’t think slow was in your repertoire.”
“Hm,” she grunted. “It’s definitely in yours.” Shit! “I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“Alle.” He pulled her close as he chuckled into the messy curls of her hair. “Not made of china, remember. Also, still possessed of a sense of humour, and sadistic as fuck.” He rolled them over, so he was on top. “Did you know your nipples are all perky?”
“Happens all the time when you’re around.”
“That so?” He pinched the already steepled tip of one, sending a zap of arousal straight to her cunt, and a thread of pain winding around her nerves. “Sore?”
“Very.”
He pinched again, making her squeak between her teeth, but her lower half pooled with warmth. When he followed that up with a greedy suck, her hips jerked up to meet his, and she finally got confirmation that he’d woken frisky.
“You’re sure we can’t?” He was torment incarnate, tangling her senses in twin fires of pleasure and pain, and inspiring dirty thoughts with the press of his cock against her belly.
“We could, but I feel I ought to warn you there’ll be consequences.”
“Bending me over your lap consequences?”
He laughed again. “Isn’t your arse sore enough? No, Alle.” He paused for dramatic effect. “If we don’t show, Xane will come looking for me, and he promised to bring Ronnie with him. So, unless you want a full running commentary on what we’re doing when they arrive, and it shared with everyone on this island, if not the world, I suggest we rise.”
“Fuck. No fair.” Xane walking in on them for the second time in less than twenty-four hours would be bad enough; Ronnie standing bug-eyed in the doorway, feeding his penchant for salacious gossip, was incomprehensible. One of the less endearing things about Ronnie was his encyclopaedic memory for celebrity fuck fests. He’d think it was his birthday.
“All right, I get it. We’ll get up. Could do with some breakfast, I guess.”
-9-
Allegra
Alle donned a mixture of yesterday’s clothes and things stolen from Spook to make the trek across the island, including a pair of his boxer briefs that he seemed particularly amused by. They parted ways when they reached the cottages, Spook heading on to the recording studio, while she nipped into the cottage where her room was and made use of the en suite shower. It was all quiet, so she guessed Paul and Ronnie had already left for the Black Halo breakfast. Turned out, they just hadn’t got out of bed yet. Leastways, Ronnie hadn’t. He emerged bleary eyed and fresh faced while she was dithering downstairs, trying to put her game face on before heading over to the studio.
“Alle!” Ronnie swaddled her in a spidery hug. “You’re here. I was so freaking worried when you didn’t come back last night. Paul had to nail my nuts to a chair.” She startled at his concern, only for him to flash her a goblin grin. “Nah, not really. I figured you and Mister Spooky were getting all…” He made a convoluted array of hand signals, which she took to represent coitus. “So, tell me all the deets. Was it all moon eyes and squishy noises, or hanky-spanky?”
“The fuck, Ronnie?” She brushed off his hold and laced up a pair of sensible flats. Liddell Island was too rugged for anything more glamorous. “There’s not a chance in hell I’m spilling a damn thing about what we did last night. It’s none of your business.”
“Spoilsport.” He stuck out his tongue. “At Christmas you promised me you’d give me a full blow by blow.”
“Absolutely sodding didn’t.”
He chuckled again, as he dug in the back pocket of his ultra skinny fit jeans and produced a bag of cherry lips. Alle stole them from him before he’d opened the packet. “Not until after breakfast. They’re bad for you.”
“But mum, they’re sugar free.”
Like hell they were.
He pouted, but he was all smiles a moment later. “Let me guess, I can have them back only if I promise not to say a thing about you and Spook while in his company?”
“How about any company, including mine, ever?”
He stuck his tongue out again, and folded his arms, his face a picture of teenaged petulance. After approximately thirty seconds he caved. “All right, give them back. I’ll be good, if you tell me it’s all fixed between the two of you.”
“It’s good, Ronnie.” Fixed wasn’t something she could promise. She and Spook still felt as fragile as blown glass for all that she was ready to ride whatever storm life might loom over them. “Early days. You ready to leave? I said I’d meet Spook over there.”
He followed her to the cottage door, where he pushed his feet into a monstrous pair of boots, leaving the plethora of buckles and laces undone.
