Bliss (29 page)

"Want to go for a ride with me?" Hunter's mouth brushed
hers before lightly nuzzling her throat.

"Should I dress up, too?" Sinclair grinned, intrigued by
her exuberance.

"Nope. You are perfect. Just bring your camera."

She looked down at her pale green sundress and shrugged.
"OK. Let me just let Nikki know that I'm leaving."

"I already told her when she let me in." Hunter nibbled on
her collarbone. "She knows you'll be safe with me."

They left the Breckenridges' and walked back to Hunter's
house with the dark woman frolicking like a puppy in front
of, then beside her. She tugged at Sinclair's loose dress, flattening it against her belly and breasts.

"I love your tits," Hunter said, pulling closer. "They're
so . . ." Her eyes touched them while Sinclair blushed and
stood tongue-tied, not knowing what to say. She had never
seen her like this.

At Sinclair's look of confusion Hunter backed away, smiling. "I love your coolness," she said. "I love it when you melt
and show me your soft spots. I love how you make me want
to be less cynical, more like the kid I was when I left this
place."

This time when she came closer, Sinclair grabbed her hand.
"You make me happy." She spoke the words against Hunter's
mouth, feeling secure in saying them for the first time.

Hunter laughed and ran ahead of Sinclair. At her gate, she
lifted the latch and motioned ahead of her. "I'm taking you
out on a little road trip," she said. "Isn't that what you call it
in America?"

Sinclair ignored her and walked ahead to open the garage
door. After Hunter pulled the jeep out, she brought the door
back down and climbed into the passenger seat.

They drove away from the house, up a steep hill with a
path that seemed barely big enough to fit the jeep.

"What's gotten into you today?" Sinclair brushed Hunter's
leg through the fine crease of her pants. "Not that I mind or
anything. "

"You better not." Her eyes were full of infectious mischief,
winking in the afternoon sun as she carefully navigated the
Jeep up the mountainside. "I think I got the happy bug from
all the kids I ran into on campus today," she said. "And I was
thinking of you." The smile on her face let Sinclair know exactly what kind of thoughts those were. Her hand brushed
Sinclair's knee, then moved back to the gearshift.

They drove through dirt and forest, through narrow passes
that allowed the branches of trees to dip inside the open windows of the jeep and tickle their hair.

"When I was planning to come back to the island I read a
lot about it," Hunter said. "Its history, its present, its land scape. Everything. My first few weeks back I was in the
mountains almost every day when I wasn't working, determined to find out as much as I could that wasn't in most
guidebooks." The jeep roared as it struggled over a large
root in their path. "It was on one of those wanderings that I
found this place." She gestured to the forest around them.

The sun was a different quality up here, brighter with the
contrast of shadowy trees enfolding it. Everything it covered-leaves, vines, tree trunks, moss-seemed to welcome
it, stretching luxuriantly under its golden touch. The air felt
cooler here, rarified.

They stopped at the foot of one of the largest trees Sinclair
had ever seen. It was easily as big as Hunter's house with gigantic branches that stretched out and up, shining bright in
the sun. Green and brown vines hung down from these
branches, some brushing the forest floor. Sinclair blinked as a
flurry of varicolored butterflies tumbled through the air close
enough for her to see the fine powder on their wings.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Hunter tucked the jeep's keys in
her pants pocket then turned to the other woman. "I wonder
if you realize how much you've fucked me up?" Hunter didn't
wait for her to respond. "With you I feel like a damn virgin
again, all sweaty palms and wet pussy. You make me think of
fucking and making love all the time." She touched Sinclair's
face. "Or about just being with you. I want you to think
about that when it's time for you to go back." Her lips covered Sinclair's.

Sinclair pushed into the kiss, amazed by her words and by
the heat flaring quickly between them.

"Come on," Hunter rasped, pulling away. "Before I change
my mind."

"What if I changed your mind?" Sinclair pushed her fingers into Hunter's shirt, parting buttons to find warm skin.

The dark woman gasped then chuckled against Sinclair's
mouth. "Whatever you want, baby."

Their tongues slid hot and electric against each other, tasting moistness and heat and want. Sinclair climbed over the gearshift to straddle Hunter's lap and pull her shirt from the slacks.

"Whatever you planned, we can do later." She feasted on
the softness of Hunter's mouth, the hard slide of teeth, and
on the breath that Hunter gasped for her. The dark woman's
hands danced up the backs of Sinclair's thighs under the dress
and abruptly pulled down her panties. They ripped. She
palmed Sinclair's ass, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling her
close. Sinclair pushed Hunter's shirt and bra aside, blindly
seeking her breasts, those mounds of soft flesh that seemed so
different from the rest of her. She nipped them with her teeth,
raking the hardened nipples as Hunter groaned, squeezing
Sinclair against her. Hunter's fingers distracted her, thrust
into her, abruptly, deeply.

"Baby ...

"Drop-drop the seat back," Hunter gasped into Sinclair's
hair. When she pulled the lever they almost flew in the backseat. Hunter's fingers slid from Sinclair's heat.

"No! No ..."

"Shh. I'm coming for you, baby. Just ... yeah, open your
legs like that." She filled her again, slipping more of her fingers inside as Sinclair nibbled and suckled her and undid her
pants. Hunter didn't have any panties on. Sinclair almost
sobbed with relief at finding her slick and ready. Hunter's
legs widened even as her fingers fucked Sinclair, moving inside her with an insistent rhythm that made Sinclair long to
feel the heat of Hunter on her own fingers.

"Not inside," Hunter whispered as Sinclair's hands slid
against her soft flesh and teasing the delicate petals apart.
Sinclair brushed her clit, then moved away. The indirect stimulation pulled a moan from Hunter and thrust her hips hard
against Sinclair. Her brain was going up in smoke with each
stroke of Hunter's fingers. She bent double in Hunter's lap,
feasting on her breasts as her lover brought her closer to the edge. The wicked fingers went even deeper and Sinclair fell,
crying out. Her body spasmed, shuddered, then tried to move
away when Hunter stroked its hypersensitive clit.

"Stop!" Sinclair pushed her hands away and Hunter
gasped into her hair, whispering her apology in a litany of
moans as her hand clutched the back of Sinclair's neck tighter
and tighter. Sinclair touched her clit again, lightly stroking
her, then harder as she took a dark nipple deep into her
mouth. Hunter jerked hard against her.

"Oh, fuck!" Her fingers dug into Sinclair's neck. "Fuck!"
Her body trembled and wept, shuddered and quaked.
Sinclair held on.

"I swear," Hunter said when she could speak coherently
again. "I didn't bring you up here just for this."

"You had better not. You know you can have me anywhere." Sinclair kissed her softly and licked at the slightly
swollen mouth.

"If only that were true."

"Trust me. It is."

She looked at Sinclair with a slow grin. "I'll remember
that."

Sinclair slowly pulled away until she was sitting back in
the passenger seat. "So what was the real reason you brought
me into the woods?"

"Ah, so now you want to see."

"Of course, since my immediate needs have been satisfied." She pulled off her ripped panties and tossed them in
the backseat. "For now."

Hunter put her clothes back to rights and jumped out of
the jeep before grabbing a blanket and throwing it over her
shoulder. "Come on then."

They stepped through the curtain of vines then stood still
as it settled closed behind them. Sinclair gaped.

"This is the reason I brought you up here."

It was a sanctuary, a hidden garden of exotic blooms, orchids, lilies, hibiscus, all sporting colors that Sinclair had no idea existed in nature. Butterflies of every hue and size flitted
from flower to flower, delighting in the chaos of color and
scent. The sun lay over the glade like a blanket, warm and
golden.

"There's a hot spring on the other side of the gardens. We
can soak in it later on if you like."

"I would definitely like."

They found a clear spot and spread the blanket out, being
careful not to crush any of the carelessly flittering butterflies
in the process. Hunter sighed as she lay down with her head
in Sinclair's lap.

"This place is so peaceful, so perfect." Her eyes drifted
closed. "It's almost like I can feel the rest of the universe
when I'm in here."

"It is lovely. I'm surprised that other people haven't found
out about it."

"I'm a little surprised too. Or maybe they know about it
but just make sure that when they come they leave the place
just as they found it. That's fine with me too."

Sinclair rubbed her lover's stomach through the shirt,
pleased that Hunter had chosen to share this moment and
place with her. Happiness warmed her, nearly burning away
the awareness that she would soon be leaving for America.

"Aw, isn't this sweet."

Sinclair jumped at the unexpected intrusion. Hunter froze
in her lap then turned, slowly, in the direction of the voice. It
belonged to one of two men, who stood much too close to
them in the clearing. One held a machete in his hand.
Sinclair's pulse started a panicked riot in her body.

"You gals look really good together. Especially back there
in the jeep." He rubbed his chest and stared hard at the two
women.

Hunter slowly stood up, watching them walk closer. "Hey,
there," she said. "Can we help you boys?" Her voice was vicious with scorn.

"Yeah, you can help us," the one with pale eyes and the bare chest said. "You can give us another show like the one
you did in the truck."

"Or," his friend laughed breathlessly, "you could just keep
on doing what you were just doing. We'll take care of the
rest." The front of his trousers bulged.

Fear prickled over Sinclair's skin. This was not happening.
Not again.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Hunter said.

"Well, foreign woman. We're not going to give you a
choice."

In a blur of motion the men flew at them. The one with the
machete went for Hunter. He hurled his body at her with the
long blade held behind him. His eyes widened when Hunter's
foot flew up and slammed into his belly. She danced out of
the blade's way. Then Sinclair had her own problem to deal
with and couldn't watch anymore. The other man abruptly
materialized in front of her and slapped her hard across the
face. She tripped on the edge of the blanket and fell on her
backside. The man lunged at her. Galvanized by fear, Sinclair
scrambled backward, reaching desperately for a weapon to
hold him off with. With a sob of relief her hand closed on
something. Her camera. She swung it by its strap, hitting him
full in the face. Stunned, he staggered back and fell in the
grass. Blood rushed up, splashed across his skin and the
grass. She came up after him, slamming the heavy Nikon in
his face over and over even after he brought his hands up to
protect himself against her assault. Then, he stopped moving.

Sinclair stumbled back from his battered and slack face. Her
harsh breath was loud in the clearing. Where was Hunter?
She looked around at the sudden glint of steel in the sun.

"Hunter!"

The dark woman held the machete in her hand, the blade
descending in an arc toward the prone man's chest. Her foot
pressed hard against his throat.

"What?!" she snarled.

"Don't. "

"Don't what? Do you know what they were going to do to
us, Sinclair?" She held the weapon above his bleeding chest,
arms trembling with the effort of not striking. "They were
going to fuck us to death." She released a harsh breath. "You
know, they find dead bodies in the bush every day. Two more,
especially the bodies of two rapists wouldn't make that much
difference."

"No, baby. No. Don't defile this place any more."

"Defile? Don't talk about defilement to me-"

"Let's leave them. Let's go before they wake up." She didn't
ask Hunter this time; she pulled her lover's arm, forcing her
to drop the machete in the grass. "Come."

Hunter turned once to look at the two men sprawled in
the afternoon sun, their faces and bodies bloody. She spat in
the grass then turned and walked back to the jeep.

Sinclair gathered the pieces of her camera and its film and
dropped them in the unused picnic basket before picking it
and the blanket up and following her lover. With each step
she slowly became aware of her body's aches. Her jaw was
beginning to sting from where the boy had slapped her. An
unpleasant sense of deja vu made her stumble as she tried to
get into the truck. Hunter was silent during the drive down
the mountain, her mouth hard and set. At a crossroad, she
turned to Sinclair.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"Home with you, yes. We need to go to your place and get
you cleaned up."

Blood ran sluggishly from a gash along Hunter's cheekbone. The knuckles of both hands were raw and bleeding.
She drove on without another word. At the house, they
parked the jeep and walked inside together. Once in the
safety of her blue haven, Hunter collapsed. Her stony facade
crumbled and she leaned against the wall, trembling.

Cooing words of comfort, Sinclair led her to the bedroom
where she gently undressed her lover and tended to her
wounds. Hunter curled up on top of the sheets.