Inhibition-X (2 page)

She mulled over her choice to go again. She’d lied to Mick. She didn’t have a wicked bone in her body. Wild? Being wild to her consisted of canceling dinner reservations without the twenty-four-hour required notice and hitting a fast-food joint on the iffy side of town. She wanted to stay home and sext with her new friend. Of course, though, he wouldn’t be around. He had a meeting or something and would be out of pocket.

Plus, she’d promised, and her friends would never let her forget if she chickened out now.

In fact, they’d all probably disown her.

Chapter Two

The island touted being able to bring out the wild in even the shiest of persons. The erotic desires most kept hidden but which simmered right below the surface in their base nature.

Rumors called the exclusive club the real Fantasy Island, one harboring a decadent secret with a shot of darkness and a wicked twist. She hoped so. She needed a shot of something to get her off the safe plateau she’d found herself too scared to move from.

A week later, with each snickering a bit, tipsy-like, they memorized their new secret vacation names, a suggestion of the club. Pamphlets were sent upon her win with rather creative ideas of how to best prepare for the island. Number one? Use fictitious names as a way of letting inhibitions go. Number two? Change one’s appearance or even come in costume.

Beth would now be hailed as P.J., short for Pineapple Jack, her favorite rum. Daniel would be J.D., for his favorite poison, Jack Daniels, and Ridge would get his wish to be called anything other than Ridge, so hello, Captain Morgan. If Mick had been joining them, he would have been called Dom.

For more reasons than the bubbling champagne.

Issues came up with her new character name, though. The on-special-occasions drinker of the group, she’d hated the names they’d come up with. Finally J.D. had shouted out “Shirley”…for Shirley Temple. As they hooted with laughter, she flipped them a bird and swore she’d not answer to the name, but they all told her they were calling her by the moniker regardless.

She’d see about that.

Of course her dream hookup was being left behind. Nope, not her mystery sexting partner Erix, but Mick. She’d never gotten over her schoolgirl crush on him. Mick was the secret crush she’d take to the grave with her. None of them would ever be the wiser. She’d never even told P.J., whom she’d always been the closest with.

Friends since grade school, they’d all broken the rules and managed to stay friends through high school and college, then even went in together on buying the hip coffee shop they now owned.

Not your average java joint, as Java Joe’s catered to all walks of life, from those bibliophiles who wanted a cushy wingback chair to curl up in to the large Goth group who remained remarkably quiet for their rather loud appearances. Toss into the mix the businessmen who zipped in for some caffeination before heading in to work and the college kids who’d come and camp out while working on their theses. As a result of the varied groups, the store stayed busy, which was great. But busy also meant none of them had left their work quarters in far too long. Ironically, prior to winning the trip, they’d all agreed on hiring more staff to help thin out their exhausting, mundane shifts. With the new hires properly trained and having all proven dependable, they felt safe enough to chance taking the trip.

Yeah, they needed the adventure, all of them.

So here they all were, on a private plane, heading to some uncharted island, for some mysterious erotic adventure.

Chapter Three

“J.D., what do you think the island will be like?” she asked, worried about how far out of her element she’d end up.

“Hopefully, lots of naughty and a whole lotta bare nakedness,” he said, wagging his brows at her sudden blush and making both Morgan and P.J. snicker while rolling their eyes.

Mick, like the rest of her friends, must view her as straight as an arrow. A vanilla chick walking like she had one up her wazoo. Oh, she wasn’t stuck up, but prudish, yeah, maybe a tad. She figured this contributed to why Mick never glanced twice at her. But, well, now she had her mystery man at home. The time had long since come to get past her childhood crush on Mick.

One simple night, and she’d become hooked on Mick. An innocent night he’d forgotten about, and she never would. Even now, her skin flushed when the memories came back.

Their first spring break spent together. God, how she longed to relive the sweet moment. They’d all been in high school, too young and too broke to go anywhere other than their hometown lake. Being kids, no one was ever allowed to stay overnight, but every day they stayed until curfews and slunk home wishing they didn’t have to.

Daniel. had snitched a six-pack and bottle of Jack from his parents’ and brought the liquid courage to the lake. When evening arrived, they’d built a large bonfire, cracked open the refreshments, and played spin the bottle with a leftover beer bottle, followed by a few rounds of truth or dare. P.J. had dared her and Mick to go make out in the bushes. Who would have thought a messy, drunken act by two teenagers would imprint on her heart so fully? Mick’s lips against hers created a tornado of emotions within her. His touch excited things she hadn’t explored or even understood yet. Soft, feathery…tentative. When his tongue brushed against the seam of her lips, the action jolted her. He’d laughed. Not mocking, but in surprise.

He’d discovered then she’d never been kissed with tongue. She’d been embarrassed. Mortified, in fact. Mick hadn’t pulled away. Didn’t stop and go seek one of the other, more experienced girls to make out with. No. He became far gentler. Slower, as if he tried to memorize the moment. The caress of his hands against her cheeks caused odd tingles to burst in places she only now became aware of. A warm breeze carrying the scent of summer and spring-bloomed honeysuckle tickled her nose as everything in her world seemed perfect.

Nothing would break the moment.

And then she sneezed. Not some small delicate sneeze, oh no. Nothing that went wrong in her life ever did so in a small way. Snot flew. The oozy type that hung in two thick streams down both nostrils while toying with her upper lip.

“I’m so…” she’d begun to bumble forth while she wiped the snot as quickly as possible. In that horrific summer moment, fate tossed her a life preserver.

Mick hurled like no tomorrow. With far too much booze and way too little food, Mick’s stomach revolted in the way bodies did to rid poisons. While occupied, she wiped the snot right before the rest of the gang came running up to laugh.

“Hey Mick…how about a burrito with extra chili?” Daniel bellowed, earning a slap on the shoulder from Beth.

“Here, sweetie.” Beth had handed him a napkin. “Need anything else?” Mick finished retching and, to her dismay, turned to Beth, not her, for comfort. His choice stung, but Beth had been the one the offer a hand up while she’d sat on her duff like the scared, pimple-faced teenager she was.

When teased the next day, Mick swore he didn’t remember a thing. Her heart plummeted, but she’d never breathed a word about how much the kiss meant to her. Poor Mick, though, received teasing for years. Still did, on rare occasion about the spring break Mick spewed.

“Oh, how gorgeous,” Beth, now called P.J. said, pointing out the plane’s tiny window and bringing her back to the present.

Sure enough, a tropical sight met her gaze. The plane leveled out, lining up with the adventurous island they were about to land on, and her nerves went on high octane. Her stomach twisted even more, and her palms grew sweaty as she gripped the armrests for touchdown.

“Man, I can’t wait. This is going to be the most epic break yet,” Ridge, now dubbed Captain Morgan, whispered in awe.

Both guys, she didn’t doubt, prayed like hell they would be greeted by half-naked women.

“Allow me to retrieve your luggage.” Their pilot announced giving them all a friendly grin. He began gathering up their bags, a few at a time, before placing them at the end of the dock.

“Check out that color. I’ve never seen anything so turquoise and clear before,” P.J. breathed on a dreamy sigh. ”The water screams to get naked and jump in. Doesn’t it?”

Heather cast a wide-eyed stare to her friend, half expecting her to do exactly what she’d said.

“Go for it. Hell, we might join you,” Daniel, now J.D., said in unison with Captain Morgan.

“No. We need to wait to figure out where we are supposed to be going,” Heather urged, praying they’d listen and not get naked. They needed to work up to the nude level of this trip, if such an act ever even happened.

“Spoilsport.” Captain Morgan blew her a raspberry. “Dude, where’s the naked girls wearing leis to kiss and greet us?”

“Dude, where’s the naked men wearing leis to greet us?” P.J. shot back.

“Uh, I think you’re all thinking of Hawaii.” Heather giggled at their small faux pas.

Much to their dismay, and her personal relief, no naked anyones came to greet them.

Hell, at this point, Captain Morgan seemed half prepared for some
little person
to stroll up and begin yelling out… “de plane boss, de plane,” like from the old eighties television show.

“What?” he asked when the visual of such a thing hit her and she snorted.

“Nothing,” she murmured.

Instead they found themselves in an awkward silence as they waited for someone to come collect them from the docks.

“First time in my life I don’t give a fig about waiting. Feel the air? It’s charged with excitement, and oh, the aroma. Like sweet floral heaven,” P.J. noted.

She hadn’t realized until then, but P.J. had nailed the description of the atmosphere. Nerves finally settled, she took a moment to close her eyes and soak in the warm, tropical sensations around her. When she opened her eyes again, she found what P.J. did.

A loud
thud
caused them to whip around in search of what had caused the intrusion. The pilot dropped the last piece of luggage, turned, bid them farewell, and took off toward the docked plane. He crawled in, cranked the engine, and winked as the propeller began to whirl in a fury.

“Kinda weird, dontcha think?” J.D. asked a bit doubtfully.

Though their surrounding area was lush, and strewn with gorgeous tiki-lit pathways, Heather didn’t find another soul around. With darkness approaching, the last horror movie she’d caught rushed back.

The Island of Madmen.

Shouldn’t have picked an island-themed horror flick before coming. Bad, bad idea.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, or moe?” Morgan asked, nodding in the direction of the four paths before them.

In answer, J.D. took off for the path straight in front of them before pausing. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, right behind you.”Always the fearless leader, J.D. just
did
. Sadly, many times he did without calculating his move first. That said, he always made sure everyone around him was okay before doing so. He might be the first one out of the parking lot and the first to get a ticket, but he never left until your car was started and he knew you were safe. Sometimes he got things wrong, like directions, and sometimes he got things right. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest buying the closed coffee shop. Taller than average, with a nice clean buzz cut, J.D. had a military look, yet his personality stood about as far from military as possible. He was a stark contrast to Mick, whose dark, almost Goth looks were amped by J.D. standing in close proximity.

Mick, whose preferred choice of club attire was black leather pants (bulge visible), shit kickers, and white pirate shirt, was by far the alpha of the group. Yet for all his darker attributes, things about Mick screamed gentleman. They had been out at a club once when a couple broke out into a fight. While it began as verbal and controlled, Mike kept his eye on them. She’d seen him quietly taking the couple in. When the man grabbed his girlfriend too roughly, Mike leapt into action. Not one second of hesitation.

Bam. Mick had the man by the scruff of his shirt and was nose-to-nose. Told the ass that if he touched his girlfriend like that again, he’d make mincemeat out of him. He continued retraining the man until the girlfriend was safely in the back of a taxi and leaving the place.

Then you had Captain Morgan, whose practical jokes were known statewide. A bit smaller than either Mick or J.D., though not short by any standard, coming in at five feet eleven. Plastic-wrapped toilets during a large party? Yep, that’d be J.D.

She gave her companions a once-over and wondered what they’d think of her if she divulged her secret fantasy. They’d probably flip a wig if she did. Somehow she suspected Mick would understand. Maybe it was the whole S&M thing he was said to be into.

“You still with us?” P.J. asked as they strolled along the path.

“Yep, just taking everything in,” she lied as thoughts of her fantasy being fulfilled here entered her conscious thoughts. At first she had no intention of following through with the fantasy. But the island air and mystery surrounding the place gave her pause Her secret desire? Being with a stranger. Someone she didn’t know and never would. Someone she could let go with and never have to later worry about what they thought. If they thought her a freak, well, whatever. She didn’t know them, nor they her, and she’d never have to face them again.

A silken sash over her eyes as someone unknown ran a feather, or flogger, across her bared skin. Kisses being peppered across her body until her skin flushed from the heat of the moment. Opening her thighs at the urging of work-calloused hands and not being able to determine what her partner had in mind.

Mouth, hand, or cock?

“Hey, Shirley, watch your—”

Dark, tropical, copper-scented dirt shot up her nose as she tripped over a vine on the path. She’d heard P.J.’s voice, but not in time to understand to prevent the ass-over-end fall.

Chapter Four

“Shit, girl, are you okay?” P.J. helped her up with snickers from the guys once she proved she hadn’t been hurt. “Girl, where are you at right now? You’re definitely lost in thought, when you should be lost in the magic of the island. You really okay? Something going on you want to talk about?”