Master of the Deep (3 page)

She buried her face in his neck. The idea of him, of what he was, scared her, and maybe that would never change. But she felt safe in Koenraad’s arms. That had to count for something.

He pushed open a door, and she raised her head. He’d completely bypassed the bed, and now they were in the enormous master bathroom. It was nice and everything, but the bed would be a lot more comfortable…

“The other part of the good news is that we get to take a boat trip to the mainland,” he said. There was a slightly apprehensive look on his face as he lowered her.
 

“That sounds great,” she said truthfully as she took a step back so she could more easily see his face.

“It’s a bit of work I’m doing off the books. I’ve got… a friend who works at a lab, and I want him to examine some water samples.”

“I thought you were in security.”

“It’s a security issue. I’m afraid the trip will take most of the day, so we won’t have time for sightseeing. Assuming you want to come at all. Obviously you don’t have to.”

Did he have any idea what she would be doing if she were in New York? Yelling at distributers, appeasing angry customers, teeth chattering in the winter cold. “You forget that
all
of this is new to me,” she pointed out.
 

“The view of the ocean is likely to get monotonous pretty quickly,” he said. “I would fly, but I don’t want this trip on the record. By boat, I can get in and out and no one will know.”

“It honestly sounds like fun,” she insisted.
 

“I’ve got to take care of something before we go. I should be back in an hour and a half. You know the security codes on the gates, so if you want to take a car, feel free. Keys are in the ignitions.”

She looked around the huge bathroom. “I think I’ll manage.”

The relief on Koenraad’s face made her feel a little guilty. He’d begged her to extend her trip, but that didn’t mean he was responsible for entertaining her every second of every day.

“Can you spare five minutes?” she asked.

His smile and slow, knowing nod did dangerous things to her heart. She wondered if he knew how gorgeous he was. It was tempting to ask, but instead she groped for the hardness distorting his boxers. She wrapped her fingers around his girth. Silken warmth surged between her legs.

“The sooner I leave, the sooner I’m back,” he said, but there wasn’t much conviction in his voice.

“Then we’ll be fast.” Her hands fumbled with the elastic of his boxers. The day before, she’d tried to give him a blow job but he’d pushed her away, and instead he’d licked her pussy like he couldn’t get enough. Twice now he’d gone down on her, his mouth bestowing countless orgasms, but she hadn’t been able to return the favor. Yet.
 

She sank to her knees in front of him.

“Monroe,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You—”

She sucked the bulbous, thick head of his cock into her mouth, and his protest turned into a long groan.
 

His hand settled on her head, and she could feel that he wanted to push her away. But the weight stayed there, and soon he was guiding her with a gentle but firm touch, urging her deeper onto his shaft.
 

The man liked to take control in bed, and Monroe didn’t mind. It was a refreshing change from Thomas, who wanted to sit there and think about his stock portfolios while she bobbed on him until she went numb.
 

Her mouth grew wetter as she sucked, and the salty-sweet flavor of him swirled on her tongue. He tasted… amazing.
 

She made a satisfied sound deep in her throat as he pressed deeper. She wanted him to come in her mouth, to lose control. Hell, she craved it, and she didn’t even like giving oral. Rubbing her tongue over the head of his cock, she vigorously worked his shaft, squeezing the base in her fist. The robe was fully open now, and it slowly slipped off her shoulders.

“Oh god—” He roughly jerked away, both his hands on her head. “Monroe.”

He pulled her to standing, and she blinked up at him, her heart sinking.
 

“Did I bite you? Scrape you with my teeth, I mean…” Because while she wasn’t a superstar at giving oral, she knew she hadn’t clamped down on him.
 

“No,” he said. “No, and even if you did… it wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I’m too gentle? You want me to bite?”

“I do like it rough,” he admitted without a trace of shame, the look in his eyes making her pussy tighten involuntarily. “But that’s not the reason I stopped you.”

“Then why?”

He shook his head, looked away. “It’s complicated.”

Monroe felt like she’d been slapped. “But…” She tried to think how to phrase her question. She was willing to do whatever he wanted, but asking him for instructions on giving a blow job didn’t come easily.

He tucked his cock inside his boxers, and Monroe’s heart finally reached the floor. So that was that.
 

He didn’t like her mouth. The realization left her raw, exposed, and not in a fun way.

Turning abruptly away, he pushed a button next to the light switch, and part of the marbled wall slid up, revealing a television as thin as a sheet of paper. “There’s a remote control panel there,” he said, indicating the wall next to the whirlpool. “I can have someone come out and give you a massage if you like,” he said.

“I don’t need a massage.” It came out frosty.

Koenraad’s reaction to her tone—a soft but sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes—wasn’t what she’d expected given how abruptly he’d shut her down a few moments earlier. “It’s not you,” he said. “I… think I’ll need to explain some things to you. Later. Things about me, about sex with shifters. Because there’s more than you’ve seen.” He cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. His eyebrows were raised in a silent question.

“Ok.”

“Good. And so we’re clear, you’re irresistible. When I looked down and saw you sucking my cock… you don’t know how difficult it was, and is, to control myself.” He inhaled, and his pupils dilated even as the look on his face darkened. “I want to let go with you. I do. But I can’t.”
 

He held her gaze until her breath stuttered out. “I… guess my female pride can accept that,” she said.
 

Still holding her chin, he kissed her. Now that wasn’t fair. He was too damn sexy, especially when he pulled her closer into his hard, muscular body. She slid her hands up, gliding over his sculpted abs, her left palm running over the ridge of his scar, her right palm skimming his hard chest until she could lace her fingers behind his neck. He was so tall that she had to stand on tiptoe, but then he hunched down and caught her face in both his large hands, deepening the kiss and making her tremble all over.

It wasn’t just the attraction that made her quiver, either. It was relief; no man kissed a woman like this unless he meant it. The kiss was a promise… with perhaps a hint of threat.

He pulled away with a breathy growl, and his blue eyes pierced hers. She returned his stare, not caring how exposed and naked she felt under his gaze. She didn’t believe in soul mates, and in fact thought the whole concept was rather cheesy, but the way she felt when Koenraad looked at her… it was the only thing that came to mind.

In fact,
soul mates
seemed too weak.

Suddenly uncomfortable, she ran a hand lightly down the front of his boxers, more to distract herself than him.

He was every bit as hard as he’d been earlier.

“Guilty,” he said. “You’re irresistible.” He cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “At the risk of getting smacked, might I humbly request that you wear your teeny floral bikini under your clothes?”

“I was planning to go completely au naturel,” she said. “Even out my tan lines. But since you want me clothed…”

The stunned look on his face was clearly exaggerated, but she burst out laughing. She tipped up on her toes to kiss him goodbye. She really didn’t want him to leave. The mansion was nice, but when he was gone, it was just a big, empty building.

So why stay? She didn’t need a chaperone to explore.

“Can I borrow one of your bikes?” she asked, following him out of the bathroom. “Assuming you weren’t joking.” It had come up at dinner. She’d said that having a car in New York was about as useful as a fish having a bicycle, and that had amused him. He’d replied that the original quote was “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle,” and he’d asked if she was trying to tell him something. While she’d blushed and stammered, he’d told her that he had several bikes, and shark shifters liked bikes just fine. Then he’d unleashed that sexy smile of his, and her embarrassment had turned to lava-hot, liquid desire for him. They hadn’t been able to do anything about it because they were in public.

“Of course you can,” he said. “I’ll leave one at the front door. A tip, though: stay on the paved roads unless you like fixing flats.”

“Thought maybe I’d go into town. If it’s not far?”

“I’d say about thirty minutes. Go left at the end of the driveway. You’ll see signs to town in about fifteen minutes. Though if you’re feeling adventurous, go right instead. You’ll have the road to yourself this time of day, and there are some nice views of dunes and the ocean.”
 

She checked out his broad shoulders and muscular ass as he quickly dressed in linen pants and a light blue linen shirt. A body like his should be illegal. Even after he left, she couldn’t get his image out of her mind.

Chapter 3

After changing into her workout gear, including a pink tank top and black stretch shorts, she carefully brushed her hair into a high ponytail and went outside. Four bikes, which all looked barely used, were lined up on a metal rack.

Koenraad had dragged the whole thing out from wherever he stored them.
 

She chose the smallest of the four, which was still way too big for her. Being a few inches taller than the average woman didn’t stop her from feeling small and delicate in Koenraad’s world.

The bike itself was a glossy dark blue. It had knobby tires yet still weighed nothing; she could lift it with one hand. It was a pro bike, the frame alone probably costing thousands of dollars. The seat was a little narrow for comfort. Made for an athletic man with a tight, muscular ass, not a woman with some meat on her, but it would have to do.

It took her forty minutes to reach town because she took her time, enjoying the warm air blowing across her skin, the sun caressing her face and arms.

She hopped off the bike and walked it onto the sidewalk. When she’d gone shopping in town, it wasn’t at this end, which was less touristy. Hardly any pedestrians at all. She glanced in the window of a hair salon. Three apron-clad women sat in the clients’ chairs. Staticky music sputtered from hidden speakers. A lizard, the color and texture of dust, darted across the clean floor.

“Excuse me!”

Monroe jumped. “I’m sorry.”

The woman she’d nearly flattened gave her a long look, then accepted the apology with a nod and walked into the salon. Monroe gripped the handlebars tighter. Maybe coming into town wasn’t such a good idea. The bike took up too much room on the narrow sidewalk, and it would only get worse as she got closer to the resorts.
 

She was turning around when she noticed a real estate agency on the other side of the street, descriptions of properties for sale taped inside the window.

Curiosity won out. She hurried across the street and leaned the bike against the building.

She looked through the notices on one side of the window. They were mostly undeveloped lots with views of the ocean in the background. More photos were taped on the far side of the window. As she walked over, she glanced into the office itself and saw a familiar head of long, brownish-orange dreadlocks.

Even without seeing his face, she knew it was Ralph. There really weren’t that many people with dreads in the Caribbean, or at least not on Tureygua. And Ralph had a peculiar build, short and wide. Compact. As she thought about it, she decided he was built like a small mountain troll. An assessment to keep to herself.

The last time she’d seen him was two days earlier, as he and Sosie left her with Koenraad. He’d been dressed casually for working the boat. Now he wore a white dress shirt. Short-sleeved, but she bet he considered it formal. He was talking to a couple in their late thirties.

Monroe decided to go in. She moved the bike over so it would still be visible and entered the small shop. Ralph looked up, and his face creased into what had to be the most enthusiastic smile Monroe had ever received.

“Monroe!” he said.

She smiled, feeling a bit shy. “I thought I recognized you.”

“Maybe you can help us reach a decision,” he said. “The Garcias are about to desert me for a kitesurfing lesson, but they’ve got a decision to make. What sounds better? A cramped time share”—he made a sour face—“or a spacious, sunny condo that they’ll own alone.” He smiled and threw out his arms expansively. “In your unbiased opinion, which do you think they should do?”

The man and woman laughed.

“Where are you from?” Monroe asked them.

“Austin,” the woman said.

“Texas?” Monroe asked. When the woman nodded, Monroe perched on the edge of a chair across from them, next to Ralph. “Do you have kids?”

They shook their heads, but Monroe noted a brief pause before they did so.
 

“What about pets?”

“A dog,” the man said, and she couldn’t help but notice the affection in his voice.

“It’s a Pekinese we rescued. He’s blind in one eye and gets anxious when we leave,” the woman said.
 

“Small enough for carryon luggage,” Monroe said thoughtfully. She looked them in the eye. “I’d buy. If you can afford it. And I’m being completely unbiased. Time shares aren’t great for pets, and Texas is a short flight. Since you don’t have kids, you’ll be able to come down for a spontaneous weekend whenever you want. You can bring your dog…” She trailed off with a shrug, realizing she’d gone on way too long.

“No problem to bring a pet back and forth? With quarantine?” the man asked Ralph.