Wednesday Words: Satyr’s Myst

For this week’s Wednesday Words, a peek at Satyr’s Myst. Romance and danger on a pleasure resort. And did I mention the heroine gets two hunky heroes? 

An excerpt from Satyr’s Myst

Lilah didn’t figure much could get through the precautions she’d already been subjected to on the way to this quiet little island. Before she’d even been allowed to set foot on the plane, she’d had to hand over a doctor’s report, not over a day old, verifying that she was free from disease and currently taking birth control. Apparently, the island promised pleasure without recrimination, and they stood by their policy.

But she didn’t mind. Lilah had nothing to hide, not to mention a depressing social life. She needed the break from the daily humdrum of life, a chance for some adventure, and hell, some much-needed passion. Unlike Elise, Lilah was all for soaking up the pleasures in life. Unconventional be thy middle name. She grinned and resolved to get rid of the invisible tattoo on her forehead that screamed “avoid me” as soon as possible.

“Right. Well, Tyrone. I’m here to help. Lead on.”

Tyrone sighed again and shook his head. He made small talk about the island as he drove a small Jeep through the mess of jungle from the resort to Hastings’s private home on the other side of the island. Apparently, the island housed a clinic and a small town comprised of the locals and a small but well-to-do sugar plantation, also owned by Hastings. During their trip, Lilah formed an impression about Rick that made her wonder.

From Tyrone’s and Elise’s descriptions, the man was a walking billboard for sex. But living on an island where everything and everyone was his for the asking, Hastings had to be more spoiled than both had let on. The man was thirty-four, never married, and rich as Croesus. Inherited wealth that he hadn’t squandered, but continued to build upon, beginning with his pleasure resort that catered to open sexuality and discretion for those who could afford his steep prices.

From what little she’d seen of the resort, the main building looked impressive where it sat on the beach amid an oasis of flora: orange and red birds of paradise, burgundy bougainvillea, and lush green ferns spotting among palm trees. Yet the resort didn’t capture her attention the way this looming structure did.

After two hours of bumpy driving through a narrow swath in the jungle — a shortcut, she imagined — they reached the outskirts of an impressive, open-air building that blended seamlessly with its surroundings. Bamboo and a light-colored wood, maybe pine, framed a monstrously large bungalow-style house. So this was Rick’s private residence. The large front doors remained closed to outsiders, and she could only hope that somewhere inside the protected walls a few inner doors and windows were open. Unless the place had air-conditioning, which would be a blessing at this point. The resort was on the water, which, she imagined, promised a cooling breeze. She had no idea how close this place was to the outlying ocean.

Tyrone pulled the Jeep close and took her bag from the backseat. He motioned her to the doorway, and they stepped onto the clean, stone-covered walkway before the intricately carved set of wooden doors.

“I’ll be in touch via radio.” Tyrone paused a moment, then set her duffle down, the ripped cords of his biceps bulging as he did so. He leaned closer, his expression worried.

The sight of such a large, buff man looking unnerved concerned her. “Tyrone?”

“You’re out here pretty far from anyone. If you need anything, anything at all, please call me.” He handed her a small neon pink walkie-talkie. “We’ll keep in touch by radio. I just want you to have a way out if they’re too much.”

Through the door, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps closing fast. The door opened, and she stared into the face of a very perturbed giant of a man. He topped her own five-eleven by several inches, and his bare, incredibly sculpted upper body could have been carved in granite, it looked so firm.

“Tyrone.” The large man sighed with relief and pumped his hand in appreciation. He glanced at Lilah and grinned. “Damn. You read my mind. It’s been a while, and she’s just what I need. Thanks a million.” Before Tyrone could say “boo,” the man yanked her and her bag inside the door and slammed it in Tyrone’s face, locking them inside.

* * * * *

Lilah stared in surprise. “Hey, what do you –?”

“Honey, I’m so hard I could chop down trees with this thing.” The brown-eyed, brown-haired sex god further shocked her by taking out his huge, hard penis and wrapping her limp hand around his girth.

Lilah looked up into his ecstatic face as he watched her and rocked into her hand, aware she couldn’t quite close her fingers around him. She instinctively tightened her grip and heard him moan his appreciation.

“Dammit, Trevor.” Tyrone banged on the door behind them.

Lilah stood in complete shock. She’d never been in this situation before — could never have imagined it — yet strangely enough, she found she liked being viewed as someone’s sexual salvation. She stared down at the impressive shaft throbbing in her hand, and an involuntary shiver shook her. It had been so damn long since she’d last had sex, even longer since she’d seen a man this fine. And she’d never, ever, been looked at the way Trevor was looking at her right now.

“Trevor.” Lilah licked her lips, and he groaned and leaned forward. His brown eyes practically glowed, the earthy chips of fire lighting her lust into a full-fledged bonfire. “I, ah, hate to say it, really I do.” She squeezed him again before reluctantly letting him go. “But there’s been a mistake.” He frowned and focused on her mouth, and she had the hardest time remembering what she was saying. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Mistake?” He leaned forward and kissed her flush on the mouth. Lips, tongue, and — good Lord — teeth. When he broke the kiss, she wanted to melt at his feet. “Tyrone,” he yelled through the door. “Go away. I’m not going to hurt…” he paused, staring down at her.

“Lilah.”

“Lilah. And with his royal jackass in residence, she’ll be just what we need to keep our hands off each other’s throats.”

Tyrone mumbled something, but Lilah was mesmerized by the impressive flesh now kissing her bare belly. Damn, but this guy was seriously hung.

“Now, Lilah, you were saying something about us not knowing each other?”

He kissed each corner of her lips before kissing her so thoroughly she forgot her own name. When he raised his head, he looked smugly satisfied.

“I — I –” she stammered, then took a deep breath. “Trevor. I know your name, but nothing else. I’m a stranger. New to the island.” He pressed his cock solidly between them, not that she could possibly forget he was exposed in front of her. She panicked, aware she came seriously close to succumbing to sex with a man she’d just met…a man whose penis she’d held. “I don’t even know what you like,” she added lamely.

Tall, dark, and handsome smiled down at her, and she thought he’d literally stopped her heart. “I like you.”

* * * * *

Rick glared at the door through which Trevor had vanished before slamming it shut. For two days he’d been badgering his close-lipped kidnapper for answers. And the only thing he had to show for it was a raging hard-on that threatened to explode whenever he was in Trevor’s presence.

For a man who wasn’t into other men, Trevor certainly put out some confusing vibes. The longing looks, the impossible-to-miss erections he sported, the frustration that darkened those melting brown eyes into bittersweet chocolate, all made it hard for Rick to think about anything but fucking Trevor into submission. Talk about a man with problems. Rick lusted after something he hadn’t encountered before…the unattainable.

Never had Rick had to work so damn hard for a lover. No one rejected Rick. Or at least, no one had until Trevor showed up. If that weren’t hard enough to swallow — or not, he thought literally — Rick had as little control over this situation as he had information about why Trevor detained him here, of all places. A true kidnapper wouldn’t have allowed him as much latitude as Trevor had. Each time Trevor cuffed Rick to the bed, Rick freed himself. Trevor would sigh, refasten the cuffs, and sit with him until they both grew snappish, then leave again.

In the time it would take Rick to release yet another restraint, Trevor would think up irritating things to say, thereby transforming their aggravation from sexual to argumentative.

Fumbling with the newest lock Trevor had imposed, Rick managed to free himself in under half an hour. When he stormed through the doorway, however, he stopped in surprise. He’d heard Trevor shout something, but hadn’t understood it was at another person. Bemused, Rick realized he’d never seen this particular woman on the island.

Like Trevor, she also seemed familiar. Long, sandy brown hair framed an oval, if average, face. She had pale, even skin, but her features were too wide, too overwhelming to fit together prettily. Not that she was ugly, but plain would be a more apt description to put to her face. Her body, however, was another matter entirely.

Rick took a good, hard look and felt his body temperature, and another impressed part of him, rise. Though Trevor had her caged against the door, they stood perpendicular to the wall. In relief, Rick saw her curves bursting through an athletic, well-toned frame. She wore short shorts and a thin, red T-shirt that ended right below her breasts, leaving a perfectly sculpted abdomen to view.

The woman flushed and pushed her way past Trevor, and Rick’s body raged to life. A living, breathing maenad. Like the worshippers in the paintings he possessed that paid tribute to Bacchus — the Roman god of wine and debauchery — this woman had a body made for carnal worship. Large, round breasts sat high over a pinched waist and womanly hips. She turned to reply to Trevor, and he noted her firm ass. So very, very tight. Rick immediately had an image of himself penetrating those cheeks, or better yet, between those luscious thighs. Her arms and legs would wrap around him while he took her, and that graceful column of her throat would beg him to nip and suck while she arched her neck in supplication…

“Figures.” Trevor’s deep growl brought his fantasy to an abrupt end. “Lilah, meet Rick. The man you’ve come to save from my ‘boorish companionship.’”

She glanced at him before turning back to murmur something under her breath to Trevor, and Rick took another unobstructed look at her perfect ass. Heart-shaped and tight, leading him to stare down her slim, taut thighs to her calves. Even her feet were perfect. Feminine, with red nails and long, slender toes, all encased in bright white sandals.

“El –” she paused and glanced at Rick over her shoulder, then looked again at Trevor. “My boss never claimed you were boorish. She merely said you had a tendency to speak your mind at the most inappropriate times. Just like your brother Ethan.” Lilah chuckled. “Which is no doubt why she thought we’d get along.”

Ethan… Reaper? Son of a bitch. Trevor Jackson, my ass. He thought Trevor looked familiar, and seeing him fully in the light of day, Rick wondered how he’d missed the family resemblance the first time around. But the look in Trevor’s gaze as it wandered over Lilah drew Rick’s focus, and he promised himself to demand an explanation from Trevor Reaper soon enough.

“Is that the only reason why?” Trevor’s baritone sounded smoky, causing Rick to study him with fascination. He glanced down Trevor’s frame and narrowed his gaze.

The top button of Trevor’s shorts was undone, and the man had an erection beneath the clinging fabric, one impossible to miss. And Lilah had given it to him. Lilah, a woman, a person acceptable to Trevor. Then again… Rick pursed his lips. He wouldn’t mind slaking his own lusts on a woman so incredibly sexy.

She left Trevor and walked toward him, and Rick saw that it wasn’t just her body, but the way she carried herself. She was a walking advertisement for sex, one Rick knew would pay out not only for himself, but for Trevor as well. Lilah, he realized, might be the key in getting through to Trevor. Suddenly his imprisonment didn’t seem so distasteful.

“Hello.”

She paused in stride before shaking off whatever had unnerved her. Pasting a smile on her face, she held out a hand. “Rick Hastings? I’m Lilah. I’m here to keep you company.” As soon as she said it, she blushed. “I, ah, not like that.” Trevor chuckled. “I mean, hell, this is your sex resort, right? Well, I’m not here to sex you up.” She turned to eyeball Trevor. “Or you.” She swung back to Rick. “But I am here to take in some sun while we wait for your stalker to be captured.”

Rick blinked and turned a narrow gaze on Trevor. “That’s what this has been about? Keeping me here under duress to keep my ass safe from some idiot stalker?”

Trevor mumbled under his breath. “Yeah.”

“So why the hell didn’t you tell me that? Why make me think you had some nefarious plans for me?”

Trevor grinned, surprising Rick out of his anger. “Nefarious? Damn, Rick. You been up late reading the dictionary for fun or what?”

As taken with Trevor as he was, sexual frustration was riding him hard, and his temper wasn’t the best. Rick held up a wrist still attached to one of the cuffs and flipped Trevor off. Unfortunately, the larger man only laughed.

“Whoa.” Lilah held up a hand. “I don’t know about this much kink. While I’m not exactly lily white, I’ve never been into the bondage scene.” Yet her eyes sparkled as she stared Rick up and down. “I bet you’re pretty masterful though.”

As quickly as his anger had flared, desire replaced it. Rick strode to Lilah’s side in a heartbeat. “Would you like to find out?”

SATYR’S MYST

re-releasing February 11th