Neil, Louisa - She's in Charge (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 7
Sitting back, he let out a sigh of resignation. She was right. Breakwater Island couldn’t afford the major outlays it would take to start the project, let alone see it to completion. But he did. The idea had floated through his brain the whole time he was back in Chicago, but he kept pushing it away for too many reasons.
First, there was Rae and her attitude toward him. She felt he was the interloper, trying to stir up trouble for her island and her personal life. Then there was the fact that he didn’t own the land or even think she would rent it to him long-term. Without a long-term situation, it would be silly to invest so much money in a project that he’d never truly own. Third, it came back to his feelings for Rae. As much as he wanted to separate them from her, he knew in the end, he’d push to have her with him in all ways. He was learning fast that pushing Rae in any direction that wasn’t her idea would be his downfall.
He walked to the kitchen and pulled out a cold beer. Back at the sofa, he scanned the pages again, not seeing information any longer, only the vision he’d created of Michael, the man who’d apparently loved her and left her. Then there was Eric. He had no real idea of what their true relationship was. From the conversation overheard on the plane, they were still sexually involved, even if not on a daily basis. So where does all this leave me? he wondered. Being the rational man he truly was, he understood it left him alone. He’d been alone long enough. Second-guessing his decision to come back to Breakwater, he decided that probably wasn’t his best choice. However, he now had an interest in a new business. All he had to do was find a new stretch of waterfront near a major city that he could transform into the fish hatcheries.
He laughed at the irony of the situation since fish was never his favorite food. He never ordered it in a restaurant and only ate it when he had no other choice. Other than shrimp and crab, he didn’t like fish. The idea of their slimy bodies gave him a chill. When the knock on the door came, he wasn’t prepared for company. Standing quickly, he looked around the room and the jumble of paperwork and decided he couldn’t put it all away before answering. Then he realized he didn’t care.
“Come in,” he hollered, and waited for the door to open. He expected to find Charlie wanting to hear good news that he didn’t have to offer him. Instead, he found Rae standing in the doorway. God, he decided, she looked good, great in fact. In worn jeans and a men’s tailored shirt, with her hair a mass of curls bobbing at her shoulders. Suddenly he was speechless and couldn’t help but stare at her ample bustline. He noted she had a slim waist and long legs. What a picture, he decided, one he’d never forget.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, closing the screen door behind her, but remaining in the entryway.
“No, come on in. Grab a beer for yourself and join me. We need to talk.”
She pursed her lips at his last words but strutted toward the kitchen. When she returned, she was carrying a bottle of water. Alan noted she chose to sit in one of the large wing chairs across from him. In reality, with all the papers scattered around him, there wasn’t a place for her.
“So what’s your verdict? Am I wrong or right?”
“I’m sad to say you were right. The initial layouts for equipment, permits, and employees is beyond Breakwater’s reach.” He waited for some snappy retort and was surprised when he didn’t get one. She simply tipped her water bottle toward him before taking a sip.
“But you knew that all along. So why did you give me your files?”
“I figured a second set of eyes couldn’t hurt, and quite honestly, a second opinion that matched mine will hopefully stop Charlie from dreaming about the project.”
“So you used me as backup to your findings?”
“Didn’t Charlie use you as a lifeline for his dream project? You went along with him. I figured you deserved to understand why I’m so against it.”
“And you want me to be the one to stomp on Charlie’s dream?’
“Not necessarily stomp on, but to let him see from another person’s perspective this isn’t the time for Breakwater to start an entirely new business, especially with the economy and energy costs. Just shipping the catch to the mainland would require more capital than Breakwater can afford to use. I won’t take loans against the island. It’s been in my mother’s family for generations. When Charlie decided to turn it into a resort back in the eighties, it was a rational decision, at that time. But he had no real concept of what it takes to get a business going and to maintain it.” She sipped from her water again. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the old goat, but he’s not realistic in his goals. And if I did go ahead with his project, he’d lose interest in it almost immediately. By the time the business was up and running, he’d have another idea of how to expand Breakwater. He has good ideas, but not the patience or finances to see them through.”
Alan watched her sit back as if a major weight had been removed from her shoulders. He wanted to go and massage them for her but stayed sitting on the sofa. “I’ll give you this, Rae, at least you looked into it. You didn’t just push off his idea without a valid reason.”
“Thank you, but I think Charlie would disagree with you.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
“I expect he’ll come to you for your opinion. I’d appreciate you explaining that it isn’t a viable business venture right now. Maybe in a few years if the economy straightens out, but not now.” She hesitated, adding, “I’m sorry he put you in this position. Bringing you back with false hope on a fool’s errand wasn’t right.”
“Next time I see him I’ll talk to him.” He couldn’t help watching every move she made. His cock was hard, straining against the denim he wore.
“Have you decided about your travel plans? I can have the office make your arrangements.”
“No, I was going to say for a while.” Alan noted the look of horror on her face and held back a laugh. “Don’t you want another paying customer?”
“I don’t mind paying customers, but their ulterior motives make me uncomfortable.”
“What do you think my motive is, beyond enjoying the vacation?”
“I think somehow you have other thoughts, ones that might include me. That’s what makes me uncomfortable. I’m not part of the weekly package tour, Alan. And no matter how long you stay here, my answer won’t change.”
“Well, since you’re pissed at me all ready, this won’t hurt.” He stood and walked the few steps to her chair. Reaching down, he grasped her by the shoulders and drew her up to meet his lips. Alan took his kiss, and took a second one before she relaxed in his arms. By the third, she was participating. That was his finest moment, when she relaxed in his arms and started participating. He let his hands roam her back while hers locked around his neck.
He cursed when her cell phone rang. She broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him, wiping away his kiss with the back of her hand. Finally, she answered the call.
“Hi, yeah, I’m busy, but I can use a break. Give me a minute to get someplace quiet.” Rae glanced to Alan and walked straight out his front door. She never came back.
He didn’t hear any of her conversation as she walked away, but he was pissed they were interrupted. His initial urge was to send all the papers flying to the floor in a fit of anger, but he hesitated when he realized he’d have to put them back in order. He went upstairs and showered, jerking his cock until he came under the hot spray. “I need a woman,” he said to the face in the foggy mirror. “A woman who wants to be with me.”
Sprawled out on the bed with the television on but muted, he couldn’t sleep. Alan started to pace the room. He opened and closed each drawer and door, the slamming noise making him feel better. And then his eye caught something he’d missed.
Alan walked to the far corner of the room and moved the large reading chair tucked against the wall. While the whole room was covered with a wainscot paneling, he noted a difference in the paneling’s lines. There was a three-foot slash in the natural line of the paneling. After much pus
hing and pulling, and two broken fingernails, he found if he touched the top left corner, just under the chair rail, the panel sprung open.
“Well,” he said, “a new corner of secrets.” Alan went to the main living area and put all the fishery files away, stacking them neatly on the dining table to be returned tomorrow. Then he made sure both doors were locked and all the curtains drawn. Back in the bedroom, he took out the first box, saw there were several more, and pulled them all into the bedroom.
It didn’t feel right. These were apparently Rae’s private papers, but then again, he was renting the cabin. By Charlie, against her expressed desire, but he was paying rent. He opened the first box and found old photo albums. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he scanned the albums, showing Charlie and who he assumed was his wife, Regan. In a second, there were baby pictures, Rae, he knew without having to be told. The rest showed her growing up on the island. From the background shots, he could see the major renovations that had been made. They ranged from old tent-like structures to the cabins they now rented.
He looked at pictures showing how their original small house was turned into the main lodge building it stood as today. The bulk heading and docks were added. It was Rae’s history of her island life. The next box was just photographs of guests with their catch or kill. So many men in camouflage kneeling beside their buck or holding a large fish, a proud smile for the camera etched onto the paper.
The next box made him sit back and think twice about going through it. There were albums of Rae at college, along with candids taken on campus with friends, and certificates she’d earned for swimming and debating. There were photos of her in her cap and gown at graduation, Charlie and Regan beside her. They all seemed so happy. The next album was white leather, and he swallowed hard, knowing it would hold her wedding photos. His ex-wife had used one eerily similar for their wedding photos. Alan laughed at the concept that this particular type of photo album was a deathblow to all who used it for their wedding memories.
She was a beautiful bride, regal in a white lace gown. Her hair was much different, teased high to hold the tiara in place, her makeup heavy for the photographs.
Now he had a visual image of Eric. He was taller than Rae, had blond hair and blue eyes that matched hers. Looking through the photos, he decided they were duplicates for Ken and Barbie. The perfect couple meant to have the perfect life. There were candids from the wedding reception, everyone smiling and laughing. He closed the album with a bit more force than needed and put it back in the box. There was one last small box, and he hesitated to open it. Alan put everything back in its hiding place but this last one. He took it to the living room and paced while the coffee dripped. When it was finally ready, he filled a mug and sat on the sofa before the coffee table.
Alan decided this last box probably held the leftover photos that hadn’t gone into the albums. He never understood why people kept the foggy, blurred ones that were out of focus or weren’t interesting. Pulling back the cardboard, he found the rest of Rae’s history. He was right about them being duplicates of ones he saw in the albums. Then he saw the envelope. One he didn’t want to know about, one he couldn’t stop looking at. He pulled out the photos from the manila envelope and let them scatter onto the tabletop. “So this was Michael,” he said, scanning the photos. Turning a few over, they were marked and dated. “Mike and me on the boat.” “Mike and me hunting.” “Mike and me swimming.”
Staring at the man in the photo, he took an instant dislike to him. “Slick” was the word that came to mind. Slick like some lawyers or car salesmen. Their attitude said it all. They thought themselves better than anyone else. In every photo, Michael had his chin up, giving him the appearance of being stuck up. And none held his smile, only a sly grin. Looking at Rae in the same photos, he noted how she beamed for the camera. How every time they were in an embrace, it was Rae touching Michael. How could she not have seen how he was using her?
The last few were shots he’d wished he’d never seen. Rae lying on a towel spread on a rock, sunbathing naked. These weren’t taken with her approval, he decided. They were all from a distance while she relaxed with her eyes closed. She had amazing breasts. Her waist was slim and her belly flat. Her legs were toned, shining from the suntan oil. There was another of her lying out on a towel, belly down. Alan decided the woman had the most perfect ass he’d ever seen. He looked at the background and realized they were from the side of the island where Charlie wanted to put his fish hatchery. Alan laughed at the thought she’d nix his idea to retain her sunbathing spot, but it was hard to turn away from the shot of her ass.
The last item was a white envelope, discolored with time. He figured he’d invaded her space enough, but not to finish would drive him crazy. As soon as he pulled out the old photographs, he was sorry he had. They were from years earlier. From seeing the other albums, he figured she was in college or just out when these were taken, at least eight to ten years ago.
Immediately, he knew the location was the private side of the island. She was lying on a multicolored, terry-cloth towel, resting naked, leaning back with her weight on her elbows, looking upward. There was a man with blond hair nestled between her thighs. In the next one, he was braced over her, his cock invading her body. Again she had her eyes closed, but there was a smile on her lips. The next one stunned him.
Rae was laying belly down over the blond-haired man, Eric, he realized from the wedding photo album, with his cock embedded in her pussy. The photo was taken from behind them. It showed the belly of a dark-haired man with his cock in her ass. There were more, all in various positions with Rae and the two men. She’d be sucking one while the other fucked her. In another, the men swapped places. He could tell two different people used the camera, one who knew how to work it and one who just shot photos. One showed her sitting naked, her legs wide to the side with a huge dildo in her pussy. She was sucking her index finger, and her other hand held the end of the toy. There was another where the toy was pushed much further inside her, only the tip showing. He’d assumed she’d have light pussy hair but wasn’t prepared to see her shaved naked in all of them. The last one rocked him. She was on her knees before the two men, her weight settled back on her heels and her hands holding her breasts high. Alan knew the white splashes on her skin was their cum. He wanted to put them away and couldn’t. Rather, he kept sifting through them.
Finally feeling sleazy and like a voyeur, he put them back in the envelopes and in the box and was about to make a special trip to put the box back in the hiding space but hesitated, daydreaming. He had to admit she had a beautiful body, one that would drive his fantasies further than he’d imagined already. He wondered why she’d kept them, then decided they were a reminder of how she’d let Michael take advantage of her. But was the man in these photos Michael or another man? Obviously she wasn’t cheating on her husband. He was in them with the other man. So the three of them together decided to keep memories of their time together with photos. Alan decided the man in the photos with Eric and Rae wasn’t Michael. Those were taken when she was much younger.
There was one last envelope, one addressed to her here on the island. Not sure he was strong enough to see what was inside, he debated for a bit but knew his curiosity would win. Opening it, six photos filtered down to the tabletop, some upright, two facedown.
So this was Michael. His first thought was again of a slick salesman, using his good looks to win over unsuspecting people. He looked at each one and knew these were taken with her permission, and much more recently than the others he’d seen. The first was her lying on the familiar rock in a wet, white bikini that left nothing to the imagination. He could clearly see her nipples and the outline of her pussy lips. Her smile said more than the pose. She was happy and wanting. The next she was naked, reclining in the same place. After that, he knew Michael had taken these for sure. He was sitting behind her, one hand wrapped around her breast, his other arm extended, obviously with the camera in hand.
Alan didn’t want to see the rest, didn’t want to know how they fucked, but he kept looking. There was one of Rae with a dildo in her anus and a larger one in her pussy. Again, her smile told him she did these things without regret. There were two left, the ones facedown. He chose one and slowly turned it over to see Rae on her hands and knees, Michael’s cock in her ass. Michael had taken the picture. He could see his belly and cock. Rae had her head turned back to the camera. The last one was her on her back. Another point of view photo showed Michael’s cock just at her pussy entrance. Again, Alan knew the white cream was his cum.
Automatically he reached for his coffee, found it had gone cold, and went to dump it, when he found a white slip of folded paper had fallen from the box. He opened it and read it several times.
Rae, my wife found these photos from my trip and is very upset.
I won’t be coming back as we discussed. I wish you well, Mike
Alan folded the note and made a point of putting it back in the box with the photos. So this was her reason for staying away from the customers. He knew from the date on the paper they were from the summer after her divorce, after she’d moved back to the island permanently.
If nothing else, it gave him a better idea of why Rae acted the way she did. He dropped onto the sofa and stretched out. A plethora of feelings shook him, including finding out Michael was married. It explained how he’d used Rae. Yet she seemed under no duress in any of them, rather a willing participant with all the men. Now he wondered whose idea the threesome had been, hers, Eric’s, or the third man’s. Did Michael suggest they take the photos of them together, or was it her idea? Was this the real reason she divorced? He didn’t think so. After much thought, he accepted the ones with Eric and the other man were from years earlier. Michael’s were just a few years ago.
His thoughts were divided between staying and finding out if she’d suck him the way she did the other men in the photos. The other side of him decided it was time to cut his loss and leave immediately. Maybe then, all this would just fade away, and he’d find a new life that wasn’t complicated by a woman who now hated all men.