unForgivable (An inCapable World Novel Book 2) (17 page)

“Who’s cool as a cucumber now?” I tease when they finally let him through.

“Yeah, yeah.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and guides me forward.

We board less than an hour later. Once I’m in my seat and my seat belt is fastened, I finally let out a long sigh. Damien is still staring at his phone. “How many times has she called now?” I ask.

“A few. And a few texts.”

“What do they say?”

He pushes the button on the top of his phone to shut it off. Staring at me, he smiles. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.”

I pull out my neck pillow and blow it up. Then I take out my eye mask and my earphones. I’m all situated and about to pull my mask down when I catch Damien laughing at me. “This is the only way to travel,” I tell him.

He puts his hands up and shakes his head. “I believe you.”

I pull my mask down and adjust to the darkness as I lay my head on his strong shoulder. Fuck, I love the smell of him. He’s sweaty now, and his musky deodorant mixes with it and I swear it has me weak in the knees. I wonder if Mr. Calm and Cool was perspiring while security gave him a hard time.

I manage to sleep on the plane and when we land, I’m woken to a kiss on my forehead and a small shake of my shoulders. Embarrassed, I jostle awake and slide my mask up my forehead and wipe the drool from my chin. He’s still smirking at me while we wait for our bags in the airport.

St. Kitts. It’s beautiful here. The sun is out, shining down on us without a cloud in the sky. There’s a smell here, similar to the one I remember from home: the ocean. But I also smell fresh fruit from the market nearby and the wild flowers waving in the wind.

A man directing non-existent traffic flags a cab for us and the driver pulls ahead. He gets out and opens the door for me. He takes us to a remote area on the other side of the island. I don’t believe him when he tells me this because it doesn’t take a really long time. There are cabins for rent here, colorful ones. The one we’re staying in is a lovely shade of pink. It makes Damien do a double take, but when he sees the smile on my face, he says, “I like it.”

“Liar,” I say, hitting him in the stomach.

“All right, like might be a strong word. I could learn to like it, maybe?”

It’s a one-story wooden structure with a covered front porch. There are a couple of wooden chairs on the porch with a hammock in the corner. I can’t wait to rock myself to sleep on it. I practically skip to the door when I see the agent there waiting for us.

“This is gorgeous,” I tell him.

“So glad you like it. We received your online payment so enjoy your month’s stay. If you need longer, please get in touch.”

“How much did this cost?” Damien whispers in my ear as I unlock the door and step inside.

“Don’t ask. Mona left me enough money to keep us comfortable for a while.”

“We need to be careful. The money has to be untraceable or it could lead them to us.”

I frown at him. “Please let me enjoy this for a minute. I’ve never been anywhere except Poland and America. I’ve never had a vacation.”

He takes my hands in his and sighs, finally allowing himself to smile. After a quick peck on the cheek, I take the place in. Yeah, I could
really
live here. Open floor plan, big kitchen with stone countertops and solid wood cabinets. There are two doors, one leading to a big bedroom painted canary yellow and a bathroom as bright as the bedroom, though it’s painted lime green.

“I’m going to have to get some sunglasses,” he says as he comes in the bathroom behind me.

He wraps his arms around my waist, starts kissing my neck and I tip my head back to rest on his. “You promised me a date,” I say, my voice quiet and dreamy.

“I did, didn’t I?” He draws a line from my collarbone to my ear with his tongue, nipping and sucking my lobe. I’m so wet and I’ve never wanted him more than I do now.

He lifts up my dress, sliding one hand into my panties to part my lips and slip a single finger inside of me. “I think you’d prefer this to a date.”

“Maybe…” I say, closing my eyes. “As long as one comes later.”

“Oh, it’ll come all right.”

I laugh at his attempt to be sexy. He hasn’t talked to me like this before and I kind of like it, especially now I’m hot and definitely bothered.

“Too bad the neighbors can see the hammock.”

“Only during the day,” I retort.

He whips me around, claiming my mouth with his. His tongue dives in my mouth, dancing in perfect unison with mine. I reach for him, glide my hand up and down his shaft, and his breath hitches. Without warning, he scoops me up, still kissing me as he carries me to the bed—to our bed—with my legs wrapped around his waist.

He throws me down, crossing his arms over his torso to grip the edge of his shirt. He yanks it off and I crawl back on the bed as he follows me. The movement from his legs hitches up my skirt. After a long, lingering kiss, he reaches between us and pulls down my underwear as I pull down his. Then he’s deep inside of me.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he says.

But I don’t care. I grip his hips and pull him deeper. No man has ever been inside of me without a condom before and I want him to be the first. He groans in delight and starts to pull out but I push against him, refusing. “Beth, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” I whisper.

I’m not an idiot and I know a baby will only make my situation worse but I’m on the pill and right now my hormones refuse to let him pull out. I wrap my legs around his waist and press my heels into his back. He drives into me, first slow and then fast, always bracing himself when he’s close. He wants to please me, to let me come first and it only makes me want him more. It puts me over the edge, to have such an unselfish lover. He wants me to feel every inch of him, to come as he comes and only when I say those delicious words, “I’m coming,” does he work harder and harder until I cry out in ecstasy. And only then, as my breathing hitches and a ripple crawls through my body, does he find his release, collapsing on top of me as his cock spasms inside of me.

“It feels different like this,” I say as I rub his back.

“You have no idea.”

“Have you…?”

“Just that one girl.”

“Do you trust me?” I ask, biting my lip because I hope to God that’s what he means.

“Yeah, I trust you. I…I…trust you.”

I get the feeling he meant to say something else. With glossy eyes and a sincere, solemn face, he holds my eyes and I tenderly kiss his lips. I want to think he meant to say he’s falling for me, like I’ve fallen for him, but I can’t let myself hope for that because the disappointment would be severe. He traveled all this way and left his life behind to be with me. That says a lot in itself and that’s more than enough. More than I’ve ever had. And I’m okay with that. I would be okay if that’s all it will ever be. He doesn’t have to love me, he just has to care about me and treat me with respect. And Damien will always do that because that’s who he is.

“
S
o happy to hear you
’re staying,” Mr. Nero says when I hand him cash for another month’s rent. He escorts me to the door of his office with one of his hands lightly touching my back. “You must be enjoying yourselves.”

I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. I swear I’ve smiled more in the last month than I did in the last twenty-four years before combined. A shit-eating grin, is what my aunt would call it if she could see me now.

Sigh. I wish she could. This is what she wanted, and she wanted it for me with Damien.

Damien
.

My smile widens even more and Mr. Nero shakes his head at me, making me blush. Who knew someone could have this effect on me? Certainly not me. But Damien is…I don’t even know what to say about Damien. There aren’t enough words: thoughtful, intense, attentive, sweet and sexy.
Perfect
. Or maybe just perfect
for me
. Everything he does makes me feel warm all over. Whether he’s staring at me with his big warm eyes or smiling at me, or just lying next to me on the hammock while he strokes the back of my head to put me to sleep while we watch the sun set. He does it all in a way that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

I shake Mr. Nero’s hand and say good-bye as I walk out with a skip to my step. It’s a beautiful day today, warm but with a nice breeze. I shrug out of my sweater and pull down my shades before gripping my bike that’s leaned against one of Mr. Nero’s yellow exterior walls. I have no other plans for today and when I smell fresh bread from the market I decide to spend some time there. I buy some rolls, some fresh vegetables, and herbs. The seller and I barter a little bit until I get the price that I want. When he hands me the bags, I take in the scent of the bread. Nothing reminds me more of home, or of Mona, than the warm scent of yeast.

On the way home, I spy some coconuts in the trees and one magically falls down, rolling along the dirt road to stop a few feet away. I tucking it in the basket of my bike and plan on eating it later in the hammock. I don’t ride home today. I walk alongside of my bike, taking in the sights. The small volcano in the distance; I never thought I’d see one of those. The coastline never ends, with its white sands that merge with the rain forest that spreads up the mountain. From here, I can even see Damien on the docks as the boat he works on comes in.

He’s a fisherman now. Paid under the table, since we’re not supposed to work here—but what the government doesn’t know won’t hurt them, and his boss, Gus, isn’t about to tell anyone. Pretty sure he’s an illegal himself.

I make a fresh salad at home and cook the fish Damien brought home last night. Dill and lemon waft throughout the space as the wind blows through the open windows and it has me salivating. I’m about to taste test the sauce when my cell phone rings. I jog to the living room to find it. It’s slipped in between the cushions and I have to dig it out.

Phone calls sometimes put me on edge, but there are only two people that ever call me. One is a number from a burner phone Carrie bought. She checks on us every few days and lets me know if there is anything we need to worry about. The other caller—also from a burner phone—is Mr. Moby. Damien makes enough for food and living expenses but the rent is pricey and we need Mona’s money to sustain ourselves. Fitch moves money around for us and he also keeps an eye on things that Carrie can’t see.
Like Jimmy
. Last time I heard he’s still in jail. Rot away, asshole. Rot away.

The number on the phone is Carrie’s. “Hey!” I say, tucking the phone into the crook of my neck.

“How’s it going?”

“Fantastic.”

“I wish I could visit,” she says with a whine.

“You have no idea. I’m enjoying Damien, but sometimes I just need my best friend.”

“It’s lonely here without you.”

“Everything good?”

“Y…yeah.”

“What? You hesitated.”

She clears her throat and sighs and I take a seat on the stool by the counter while I wait for her to elaborate. The thought of trouble makes my whole body tense.

“It’s nothing, Beth. Just the usual. Jocelyn is on the war path and of course she assumes I know where you guys are.”

“Did she hurt you?”

“No, but she threatens to. She even came to work today and caused a scene in a way that only she can. I swear Tony is going to fire me if she keeps it up.”

I clench my fist and mean to slam it on the stone countertop but I steel myself and set it down under control. “I’m so sorry, Carrie. We left you with a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it. My two favorite people are living it up in paradise. I’m good.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The timer on the oven goes off and I shut it off and the oven too.

“You’re busy?”

I chuckle. “As busy as I can be, I suppose. I’m going to have to find a hobby or a job or something. I can occupy myself most of the time but I get a little lonely when Damien is working.”

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

“That dreamy, faraway voice. The way your tone changes when you say his name. You’ve fallen hard.”

I bite my lip, my grin consuming me yet again. “Oh my God, Carrie. I never thought it could be this good. Never thought someone could make me feel…cherished.” I roll my eyes and laugh. “I know how stupid that sounds. I want to smack myself right now.”

“You and me both.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him, too.”

“You won’t. I’ll keep your secret. Or I’ll come there and hide out with you and find myself a local man with a big cock and balls.”

“Wow, that’s…pretty specific.”

“What can I say, I have standards.”

“Right.”

Damien opens the door and steps in. He comes straight for me, biting my neck and making me squirm. He slides my sundress down off my shoulder and kisses behind my ear. Then his hand roams down my cleavage to capture my breast. I tip my head back and he kisses my forehead.

“Who is it?” he whispers.

“Carrie.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“You smell like fish,” I say, making a face.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

I push him away and he goes to the bathroom, taking his shirt off on the way. I lean over, watching him through the open door as he drops his drawers. Shower sex would be awesome right now.

“Are you even paying attention to me right now?” Carrie asks.

“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Exactly,” she says with sass. “Ugh, can you hang on, someone is at the front door.” I hear her scuff her feet across the floor and I imagine her in her fuzzy slippers. She never picks up her feet.

“Fuck,” she says.

“Who is it?”

“Cruella Deville.”

“Jocelyn?”

“Why won’t she just leave me alone? I swear I’m going to tell her you went to some remote island in Asia. That ought to keep her occupied for a while.”

“Carrie—”

“Talk to you in a few days.”

Click.

Shit. Biting the very last bit of my nails off, I march to the bathroom, sit on the toilet seat and worry. Damien quietly sings while he showers and I see him moving behind the transparent curtain. I must be upset because it doesn’t get me excited to see the outline of his cock. Usually, the sight of it has me begging to be bent over.

When he’s finished, he yanks the curtain open and jumps when he sees me: sitting, thinking, stressing.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he wipes the beads of water off his perfect chest. When I don’t answer immediately, he adds, “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know. Jocelyn’s been hassling Carrie.”

He rolls his eyes and wraps the towel around his middle. “She won’t hurt her. And I doubt she’s showed anyone the envelope yet, because if she did, it would be the Dantes on Carrie’s doorstep, not Jocelyn. And that’s if they even care. Mickey is dead. You’re one girl. And a small one at that. I can’t see them feeling all that threatened.”

“If you felt this way, why did we leave home?”

He retracts his head like I’ve slapped him. “In case I was wrong. And running away with you was an adventure I was pretty excited about.”

“Really?”

He grins at me. “Do you have to ask?”

I sigh. “I guess not.”

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he says.

He kisses my head before he makes his way to our bedroom.

“Do you think I’m worrying about nothing?”

“Carrie isn’t Jocelyn’s family. So yeah, she might be a bitch to her, but she knows Carrie is important to me. And even though she’s fucked up and twisted, she does care for me—in her way.”

“You sound like I did when I talked about Mickey.”

“I think maternal bonding is a little tougher to break than a sociopathic uncle.”

I clear my throat. “May I remind you that your mother is also a sociopath?”

“You’re probably right.”

“So Carrie’s safe?”

He nods. “I’d be on a plane now if I thought she wasn’t.”

S
aturday is
Damien’s day off. He has a friend who let us borrow his boat for the day. Damien seems to have a lot of friends. This doesn’t surprise me. Mona didn’t like anyone, but she bought this guy a forged passport to take off with me, so if he can charm her, he can charm anyone.

Ladies love him too. I hate the way they look at him.

We anchor a little distance from a coral reef and snorkel for an hour or two. The ocean floor is full of fish in all different colors. Every time I see a new one, I jab Damien and point, all excited like a kid. I can see him laughing at me through his facemask.

When we’re done, we lounge on the deck of the boat.

“I wouldn’t mind having one of these,” I say, checking it out. It’s a speed boat with a small cabin below, just large enough for a bed and some storage. “We could spend some nights out here, on the ocean, under the stars.”

“Did you think it could be this good when we left?” he asks as he wraps his arms around me. I lean back against his chest and sigh. “Not just when we left. I never dreamed life could be like this…happy. No bullshit. No drama. Just happiness.”

He kisses my cheek. “This is all I ever wanted. Just this. A quiet, peaceful life with a girl who creates just enough drama to keep me on my toes.”

I smile at him as I elbow him in the ribs.

“And the swearing. I’m not sure I could ever find another girl who swears so much she makes me blush.”

“Fuck you,” I say.

“There she is,” he says, rolling over on top of me and pressing his erection in tight between my legs. I reach between our bodies to wrap my fingers around his length and circle my thumb along the tip.

He crushes his lips to mine and pumps his hips in a rhythm that matches my hand’s. His eyes close and his back arches as he moans. It’s easy to please him and sometimes I want that and nothing more. I push him off me and remove my top. I straddle him and he palms my breasts before lightly squeezing my nipples. I lower my mouth to his neck and place delicate kisses along his chest, stopping to lick his nipples. His hands move to softly rest on the sides of my head and he strokes my hair.

When I reach his navel, I look up at him from under my lashes and he smiles as I trail my tongue even lower before freeing his cock. While my hand pumps the base, I mouth the tip, swirling my tongue around him and licking his pre-cum. I swallow as he moans and I go deeper until I feel him at the back of my throat. His cock twitches and his hands tangle in my head as he gently urges my head to glide up and down his shaft. I giggle a little and the vibrations make him gasp. His back arches as he lets out a low, “fuck.”

“Go slow or I won’t last.”

I remove my mouth and smile. “I don’t want you to last,” I say, my voice husky. I spread my lips again and glide them over his shaft and I don’t stop until he tickles my vocal cords.

“I love you,” he says with a sigh.

W
e lay naked
on some towels on the deck after our bodies are exhausted from sex. It wasn’t enough for me to make him come; the second he found his sweet release he flipped me over and spread my legs wide so he could return the favor. My hand rests on his cock now and absentmindedly I stroke my thumb along the line of one of his veins.

“If you keep doing that, we might not ever make it back to shore.”

“Fine by me,” I say.

He kisses my forehead and pulls me close and we stare up at the stars and the moon overhead as violet clouds wave across it. “Come on, babe.” He squeezes my shoulders, “I promised I’d have the boat back,” he glances at his watch, “over an hour ago.”

I feel like a petulant child right now as I groan, wanting to pout and chant, “but I don’t want to.” Of course, I don’t. I just roll my eyes at him instead. I could have stayed out here all night. But then, I can’t ever get enough of just being near him.

We tie the boat up at the marina and hand the keys off to Damien’s friend who lives nearby. Although they invite us in, we don’t stay. I’m ready to have Damien all to myself on the hammock. Maybe even sleep there again. When we turn to leave, Guillaume—or Guy, as he likes to be called—hollers the name Lucas. Damien doesn’t respond at first; it still takes us both a moment to realize that’s his name here, the same name that’s on his passport.

“I almost forgot! Lana met one of your friends at Port Zante.”

“Friends?” Damien asks. I link my elbow with his for comfort. I don’t like the way he says “friend,” like it’s someone visiting the island, someone who doesn’t belong here.

“Yes,” he says, before calling out to his wife inside.

“Lana, what was the name of that man you met today who asked you about Lucas?”

Lana sighs and taps a finger to her lips. “You know, I don’t remember his name. He showed me a picture, said not to tell you he asked because he wanted to surprise you. But he seemed odd to me, and a little tense, otherwise I would have let him have his surprise.”

“What did he look like?” I say, jumping in quickly.

Guy and Lana glance at each other and she frowns before she responds. “Well, tall and thick”—she pronounces it tick—“maybe forty? But an old forty.”