A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2) (34 page)

“Yes, Elle, it’s our island, yours and mine.”

I observe the enormous colonial manor with pale pink plastered walls and intricately carved white framed windows, admiring it with wonder.

“It’s lovely, but I just want someone to explain what the fuck is going on.”

I start to walk toward our luxurious castaway, but Hunt snags my hand, halting me.

“No, no. You come with me,” he says, leading us back to the SUV and opening the door for me.

“Damian, I don’t know if I can take any more surprises.”

“Just get your ass in the car, Elle…You make it hard to experience life with you, when you fight everything.”

I finally notice how delicious he looks in his white, open-collared button up, tan slacks, and black chucks. His hair is wet and slicked back, giving him a sophisticated yet laid back appearance. He’s down right fuckable, and, suddenly, I don’t feel so upset.

“I’ll let you show me, if you’ll explain a few things to me after.”

“Alright, Elle, you win. Now, please, get in the damn car,” he replies with an amused, crooked smirk. I smile back at him, slide in, and wait. He climbs in and buckles up, waiting for me to do the same before turning on the ignition and driving us to yet another surprise.

Will I ever get used to the ever-changing uncertainty that is Hunt’s life…? Can I really blame all of this on him? Haven’t I brought my share of issues to this relationship? I’m just so puzzled by the last four days, weeks, months.

I don’t know how long I’m in my head, but when I wander out, we’re parking. The barely nonexistent road seems to narrow further into a sandy trail just wide enough for two people.

“I’m not really dressed for a hike,” I comment as I glance down at my dress and wedge heels.

“We aren’t going for a hike. The path is soft, so you should remove your shoes…or I could always carry you.” The ear-to-ear grin on his face is sweet and warms my heart.

He gets out and goes around the front of the SUV, opening my door for me. I take off my shoes, latch onto his extended hand, and scoot out, following him down the jungle-lined path.

We trek our way through the tropical forest filled with emerald abstract-shaped shrubbery, trees with draping vines towering far over us, eclipsing us in their shadows, and brilliant-hued flowers in every shade of the rainbow, each genus more vivid then the last. I’m admiring our surroundings, sinking deeper into a tranquil state the farther we traipse into this oasis.

I listen to the calls of the wild, a symphony of singing exotic birds and howling wild monkeys all around us. I smell the light salty scent of the ocean mixed with the sweet fragrance of paradise. I feel the shade-cooled sand of the trail beneath my feet, filling the space between my freshly polished toes.

Hunt comes to an abrupt halt and I almost walk into him in my dazed state. He turns back to me and smirks his crooked smirk when he notices the ridiculously happy grin smeared across my face.

“If I ask you to close your eyes, will you?”

I shoot him a what-are-you-up-to glare, but do as requested, shutting my eyes tight. I feel his hands placed over my face to ensure I can’t peek. His body moves into mine, telling me to move forward. As I cautiously walk toward my surprise, I have an overwhelming need to place my hands out in front of me, to feel for any impending blocks in my way, but I don’t. I don’t want to offend Hunt with a gesture lacking in trust.

After about twenty or so paces, we come to a halt, and I can feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders and the sand beneath my feet. We’ve come out of the shadow of the jungle. I feel a misty breeze waft past my face and hear the sound of waves crashing on the shore. My heart beats with excitement. As much as I hate surprises, he never ceases to amaze me, which keeps things interesting, thrilling. I have no doubt this will be one of those times.

He lifts his hands from my eyes and whispers in my ear, “Open.”

I do and find a breathtaking open-space home with retractable walls constructed of glass and a dark wood, local perhaps. There’s a rooftop made of weaved reeds and a wide patio with wood pillars that appear as if they were just plucked from the jungle and placed about the wrap around veranda. A large manicured lawn with palm trees and tropical shrubbery landscaping lies only inches from my toes, begging to be walked on by my bare feet.

“Welcome to Eden,” Hunt purrs into my ear, nipping it before placing his hand on my back to guide us along the lantern-lined, cobblestone walkway toward our private hideaway.

I’m sure this place is absolutely awe-inspiring at night, with all the lights and lanterns burning bright. Very romantic.

We walk through the doors into a huge main space that seems to take up a majority of the palatial one-story home decorated in more dark reddish woods and white embellishments. The tall, vaulted ceilings are also constructed from reddish wood planks with multiple horizontal ceiling fans with weaved reed paddles lined across it. The walls leading to the ocean are retracted, showcasing the crystal turquoise waters and white sand beaches.

“Oh, Hunt, it’s wonderful. It’s like a dream,” I state, turning back to him. “It isn’t, is it…? A dream?”

He shakes his head and chuckles from sealed lips. “No, it isn’t a dream, Elle. You’re really here…Would you like to see the rest?”

I smile, nod, and take his hand, following him across the living room past the open kitchen.

For someone who loves his open spaces, he sure is shut off, locked in his dark, little room.

I notice we are walking outside. “I thought you were going to show me the rest of the house?”

“I am,” he answers without glimpsing back at me. “But the part of the house I want to show you first is out here.”

He walks us out onto the patio past the lounge chairs made of dark wood and white plush cushions, matching the inside of course. There is an eternity pool with dark blue tiles, overlooking the white sand beach and vast crystal blue waters.

He turns back to me and scoops me up, sweeping me down a short staircase. “Close your eyes,” he orders again.

“Really? Again?”

He just halts and shoots me a stare like don’t-ruin-this-Elle. I smile at him and shut my eyes. We walk maybe another 20 or so paces then stop. He sets me down on a hard surfaced ground, which I identify as wood planks when they softly creak beneath my feet. He moves away from me, and I stand there waiting. “Can I open my eyes now? I feel ridiculous.”

A few seconds later, he speaks, “Now.”

My eyes spring open to find myself standing in the center of a huge open-air bedroom with glass walls retracted wide open, allowing the warm breeze off the ocean to waft in. Hunt stands in front of the wall that leads out to the beach, with a perfect view of the crystal waters beyond.

I slowly turn in place, taking in my environment with awe and wonder. The other three walls lead to the exotic shrubbery of the island, with brilliant flowers and abstract plants in almost every shade of green imaginable. The only shade missing is the mesmerizing tone of Hunt’s emerald eyes.

Behind me, there is an antique, four-post bed, with a sheer white canopy hanging to the floor, encasing the entire dark wood piece. The canopy matches the opened drapes framing the walls, and the bed matches the rest of the stunning antique furniture.

In the corner near the beachfront view is a large sunken tub and glass shower beside a small door that probably leads to the lavatory.

Good. I don’t need any more of that ‘let me watch you’ crap.

The whole place has a serene, airy feel to it. I can feel my stress fall away every second I’m here, forgetting the troubles of yesterday and living for today. “Oh, Hunt, this is heaven on earth. I’m still not sure this isn’t a dream. I’m afraid I’ll wake up.”

“Why do you think I named it Eden?” He lightly laughs.

“You’re so clever. It’s quite a turn on,” I flirt.

“I know what you mean.” He smiles softly at me. “You are quite witty yourself, Hyde. It’s one of the many charms that I find irresistible about you.”

“Can we get some questions out of the way, so we can get on with our time here peacefully?”

“You want to know why we’re here,” he states.

“Yes, that’s a good starting off point.”

“Gabrielle, you were having a full-blown mental breakdown. You must be stressed from everything that has happened, not just these past few days but months, as you should be. You’re constantly trying to hold it together and stay strong, but it’s wearing on you. I think you need time to relax and figure things out.”

“And, of course, Dante’s appearance has nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, it has something to do with it, but White suggested you get away from everything for a while. He felt it was the right time and I agreed…Now, I need to know what he said to you, Gabrielle, what did he do?”

“I only remember him coming up to me and then I freaked out. I think I had a little too much to drink so the night’s hazy in parts.”

“Alright, perhaps things will become clearer once the medication wears off. I’m so sorry I let him get to you.” He looks so torn. My heart breaks for him.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” I assure, wrapping my arms about him. “You are not to blame for anything that psycho does. Do you understand me?”

He stares at me with such grief, but nods softly.

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Elle. I would just stop existing.”

“I know what you mean,” I reply gently. He comes in for a soft, loving kiss, placing his large hand on the side of my face. When we break away, the look of love in his eyes takes my breath away. He’s just so beautiful, inside and out, and I don’t know why I was bestowed with such a wonderful man. What did I do to deserve this? “I love you, Damian. I think we lose us in all the madness sometimes. I forget it’s you and I at the core of everything, but I can’t live without you. I never want to.”

“I love you, too, Elle. I promise we’ll find ourselves again.”

“I think this trip may help us do that, but what about work? We can’t keep missing work.”

“Elle, really, you know that’s not something we need to worry about. My job’s secure, and yours will always be there when you want it. However, as your boss, I feel that you aren’t an asset to the company in your current state and some much needed relaxation is in order.”

“I thought I wasn’t to think of you as my boss, but my lover,” I tease and sigh. “So, if you want me to relax and figure things out, why would you invite my mom? I hardly consider that a stress-free situation.”

“Elle, you need to talk to her. If you keep running, it will be one more thing hanging over your head, causing you sorrow…Gabrielle, I’m not the only one who’s changed.”

“Does it really show that much?”

“No, it’s not evident to others, but to me, yes. You’re in pain, Elle, and you need to deal with it.”

“What if I don’t want to deal with it, right now? Hunt, it’s a lot to take in. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

He strides up to me and snatches me up into his arms, holding me close to him. He buries his head in my floppy bun and inhales deeply. “Mmmm, you smell like the island, of coconut and a fresh ocean breeze.”

I sigh, relaxing into him. “Are you sure you aren’t smelling the actual island?”

“No, this is you, this is how you always smell…like paradise.” He holds me tighter and kisses my temple, lingering and taking a deep breath. “If you deal with this, I will tell you something about my past.”

I push myself away and stare with disbelief into his eyes. “Really?”

“There may be certain things that are hard to discuss, but I will do my best.”

“Oh, Hunt!” I leap up and wrap myself about him, thrilled by his willingness to let me in. He holds me with his face buried in my chest and a firm grip on my ass and about my back. I thrust my hands in his hair and yank his head back, bathing his face in quick, soft pecks. Then, his lips mimic mine until they meet in a deep, hard oral caress.

The mood shifts, electrifying the air about us with a sensual charge. My fingers grip his strands and my body writhes against his as I become aroused by him, desperate for him right this second.

“Take me to bed, Damian,” I plead with a whisper.

“Yes,” he answers breathlessly, letting me know he’s just as desperate for me.

He walks us over to the bed and falls upon it, pinning me beneath him. His hips gyrate between my thighs, grinding our aroused pelvises into one another in a tantalizing rhythm that drives our need further.

I thrust my hand between us and rip his zipper down, shoving my hand into the fly to adjust his cock. It flops out under its weight, resting against my wet, still-clothed slit.

He groans against my lips and murmurs, “Your panties are fucking soaked. It feels so good against my cock, angel.”

“Come on, Mr. Pantie Killer; take them off me like only you can.”

He rises up onto his knees while my legs remain wrapped about his waist, lifting my ass into the air and arching my back. He laces his fingers with the thin strap holding my white cotton panties together and, with a gentle tug, rips them apart. He repeats the act with the other side and yanks them out from between my thighs, rubbing my clit.