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Leaving them dazed but not feeling so much as a flutter for myself, I smirked, my smile defiant more than anything, and walked off to the sandbar.
After getting dressed, the crowds here by the boardwalk were ridiculous, but at least the food was delicious. I ordered a crab special and started dozing off at the lull of idiots droning on about their mundane lives.
“Ahh! Oh my god!”
A woman’s screams had me jolting up, trying to get a view of whatever was in the water. The whole restaurant was gawking, yelling, and pointing. Was there a shark or something?
My short ass couldn’t see anything, so I stepped up onto my table and peered over the heads of the others. As I figured, I couldn’t see much of anything, so I sighed and hopped down. I was ready to leave and give up on the hours of waiting, but then the overhead speakers crackled.
“Where is finger? Where is finger? Oh, here I am.” Then, it switched, and I heard, “Oh my, what beautiful eyes you have…all the better to ogle you with, my dear…I see you.”
And then there was nothing. The speakers went dead.
Everyone was screaming and running around like rats.
Before I even went down to the shoreline, I knew what would be floating in the water. Refusing to walk down to confirm, I stubbornly sat back down in my seat. A waiter walked over and set down my tray.
“Finally,” I grumbled, lifting up the lid. However, it was not my crab special.
It was a dried-up tongue. My guess from the guy on the island. Burned into the fleshy mounds of it, “Careful Snow, those delicious lips of yours are dangerous. Everything you touch will feel my poison.”
Snarling, I threw it off the table and used the chaos as cover to leave the bar. Taking two steps at a time, I practically used my rage to float me back over to the island. It was dusk now, and the sun was finally dipping behind the water line.
I stubbed my toe on stupid rocks as I tried to navigate my way back by memory. It wasn’t hard once the stink of a cooking body caught my nose. Sure enough, the devil himself was leaning on a tree. His triumphant smile beaming was annoying, and he was covered in blood.
His shirt dripped blood onto the cool sand.
He was not, however, wearing pants.
My eyes involuntarily bugged at the size of him. I had caught glimpses of his cock before in the club with his whole knife-play situation. But it had been contained behind pants. It was a bit intimidating at the time, but now, seeing it free and hardening, he caught my gaze. It was hard not to blush.
I felt myself getting wet, the heat pooling at my center, my white bikini doing nothing to hide my approval of him.
“Like my gifts, Little Shadow?” His voice was husky and thick with need.
“No,” I growled, reaching back to steady myself.
He was stalking me like the predator that he was. I cleared my throat, backing up from him and twisting at an angle to avoid the dead body on the ground. He was cornering me into the palm tree and the water.
I could turn around and run, but I was liable to fall into a hole of deep water. It was a minefield out here from the erosion of the sand and the water below it. Never knew when you’d sink into an eighteen-foot sinkhole.
Why was he still wearing a shirt?
No. I mean, why didn’t he have pants on?
He made a face of mock sadness and chuckled. “Didn’t figure you for fucking a pig,” he said, a more serious tone in his voice.
I scoffed.
“Like you know anything about me.” I challenged.
Lucius was too close now. His finger ran a slow trail across my jawline, his touch teasing the center of my chest. My nipples hardened behind the white top.
“Fair enough. I still have a lot of learning to do, Little Shadow. But I know one thing…” he said, his tongue tracing the tingling line his fingers left.
I stiffened, not daring to move, my fingernails bloody at this point from how hard I was gripping the trunk of the palm tree.
“You’re absolutely dripping for me.”
