Linda Gayle (7 page)

The big warrior went utterly still, and for a moment, Moana thought he might push him away, but then he let out a breath and opened his mouth, and their tongues slid together like two dolphins twining beneath the waves. Rahiti drew back, gazing at Moana with shining, surprised eyes. “You never told me…”

Moana shrugged. “When I was younger, I learned to enjoy both men and women.” He grinned broadly. “Why limit yourself?”

Rahiti’s brow creased, and he seemed about to say something else, but then Moana eased down his body and took the crown of his cock into his mouth. The helpless cry that burst from his friend made his lips spread into a smile around the plump head.
I knew you would like this
. He grinned smugly to himself as he sucked Rahiti’s cock down to the veiny base.

Clearly lost in his pleasure, Rahiti tangled his fingers in Moana’s hair—yes, hair, rather than the smooth dolphin skin—and thrust his hips up and down. After having been denied this joy as a man for so long, Moana thought Rahiti would surely not take long to come. But he had other ideas.

Lifting his mouth briefly, he slicked his middle finger with saliva and teased it down behind Rahiti’s balls. At first Rahiti tensed, and then, with some gentle stroking and the return of his mouth to his shaft, Moana coaxed him to relax.

“Moana…” A tone of warning sounded in his voice, but when Moana began to circle the sensitive skin of his friend’s hole, Rahiti’s legs drifted open wider, and his breath came so fast Moana could hear it gusting. Rahiti gripped the back of Moana’s thigh where he knelt over him. Then he slid his hand over to grasp Moana’s cock and pump it in time to the bobbing of Moana’s head.

Ah, perfection! His friend’s grip was rough, untutored, but thrilling in its urgency, and the salty taste of his pre-cum spread across Moana’s tongue like nectar while Rahiti’s untried hole twitched every time Moana stroked his wet fingertip over it. Gently, he inserted his finger, slowly, waiting for any sign from Rahiti that he objected, but Rahiti moaned and lifted his hips by digging his heels into the sand.

Risking a glance at his friend’s face, Moana moaned as well. The mighty warrior’s expression was one of pure bliss, his lips parted, his eyes closed tightly. How he’d love to see the expression in those eyes when he came. Thinking of it drove his own arousal to a fever pitch. The sight of Rahiti’s face combined with the aggressive stroking on his cock sent Moana over the cliff’s edge. Tightening his mouth on Rahiti’s shaft, sucking hard, he came, shuddering, and plunged his wet finger deep into Rahiti’s ass.

With a shout like a war cry, Rahiti stiffened at the peak of a thrust, and his cum flooded Moana’s throat. His body clenched around Moana’s inserted finger on every spurt. Riding the crest of his climax, Moana did his best to catch and swallow every last drop of his friend’s seed. Finally, Rahiti collapsed in a boneless sprawl, and Moana let his softening cock slip from his mouth.

He backhanded a drip of semen from his lips and grinned down at his spent friend. “If we make love to Lyric as we just did, she will be ours forever.”

Rahiti turned toward him slowly as if his head was as heavy as one of the great boulders on the mountains. He didn’t smile back but splayed his hand over Moana’s heart. “I am yours forever.”

That was not what Moana had expected. He almost didn’t know how to respond. Emotion—love—for Rahiti, his ancient enemy, spread through him in tingling waves. He clasped the hand over his heart and held it to him. “Even if this is our final moment as men,” he said, “I will always cherish every day that we had together. Now more than ever.”

Rahiti grunted sleepily and pulled Moana down next to him on the sand. Moana laid his head on the great, broad chest, slung his arm across Rahiti’s middle, and closed his eyes. The waves whispered rhythmically onto the beach, and a sultry breeze caressed their lax bodies. The only thing that would make this more perfect would be if Lyric was here with them. Beneath his ear, like a drum, pounded Rahiti’s heart. His human heart.

Moana prayed to Kanaloa, wherever he was, that this would last.

Chapter Five

What, exactly, was she going to tell Henri anyhow? “Remember those two dolphins you were telling me about? Well, guess what—they’re sitting on my couch right now!” Stomping down the narrow path through the underbrush, Lyric shook her head. Or how about, “Those dolphins who protected the island? They might need replacing.” She whapped a low-hanging frond out of her way and frowned. Better yet, the twenty-thousand-dollar question: “Hey, Henri, is it safe to fuck dolphins?”

After half an hour of walking, she should be close to Henri and Maria’s little white-washed house. She’d been on this trail only once before, and then it was in Henri’s golf cart as he brought her from the dock to the hut, but the path should have been perfectly straight. Yet, instead of leading her to the north beach, this way seemed to be leading her deeper into the island’s core. Slowing to get her bearings as well as to gather her thoughts, Lyric stood for a moment. Around her, the vegetation grew thick and wild. Overhead, layered palm branches blocked out much of the sun. The air was still. Exotic birds whistled and shrieked.

A shiver ran over her, and she rubbed her arms. Okay, so only she could manage to get lost on a straight path with no turnoffs. There weren’t any wild animals on the island, right? Maybe this led to the other side where there were more tourists. That wouldn’t be so bad. Somehow she’d find her way back.

She walked on until the undergrowth got so heavy it was scratching at her legs and the narrow dirt road that had been so clear moments before disappeared. She went to turn back, and it had disappeared entirely. “Oh crap.”

Instead of the trail, she stood in a clearing, as if the jungle was transforming even as she turned in a slow circle, eyes widening. What the hell… Her shiver turned into a shudder. She’d yell for help, but once again, she was alone. Suddenly, she spied something—a stone statue, revealed as if the vines thickly draping the sides had just been pulled away. A broad face carved in blunt, geometric angles snarled at her from beneath a stony, snake-like crown. Huge, blank, oval eyes stared out at her, and rows of teeth filled the open, downturned mouth, as if the deity—for surely this was some sort of Polynesian god—was about to chomp on her.

Lyric held her breath and wrapped her arms around her waist. Prickles of awareness danced over her nape. All around her, the jungle had fallen silent.
Oh shit. This is bad. Not natural.
The light had dimmed, and she had the sense of being in a very dark, very primeval place. A place she had no right to be. She turned to run—and nearly screamed.

“Easy there, Miss Lyric.”

“Henri!” She slapped her hand over her racing heart. “Oh my God, you nearly scared me to death.”

The old man peered at her, faded fishing pole in hand. He was barefoot and in rolled-up, faded jeans, his button-up shirt, white against his darker skin, hanging loose. A smile curved his lips. “You gave me a start as well. Almost no one comes this way anymore.” He pointed with the fishing pole he carried toward the statue. “You come to see Kanaloa?”

Barely daring to glance over her shoulder at the evil-looking thing, she shook her head. “No. I just ended up here by accident.”

He chuckled then walked over to the tiki. “Long ago, this was Kanaloa’s island. He ruled the sea for all around. He is the god of the sea and of fisherman.”

For whatever reason, some of the darkness had lifted from the place, and the birds were flitting in the fronds again. Maybe it had just been her crazy, overwrought imagination. Feeling braver, she stepped closer to Henri and stared at the vine-draped tiki. Gah, that really was a hideous thing. “He looks…evil.”

Henri rocked back on his heels. “He is neither good nor bad”—he waved a broad hand—“any more than the sea is good or bad, you see? Like nature.” Still holding his fishing pole, he lifted his arms to encompass the thriving jungle around them. “All life comes from the sea, but the sea can be harsh, too. Deadly, no? And also beautiful.”

She looked again at the gaping mouth of Kanaloa, trying to see the beauty and failing. “Hmm. If you say so.”

“Well”—he tipped his head—“if you did not come to see Kanaloa, what has brought you this way?”

“I wanted to ask you…actually, it’s about Kanaloa and those dolphins you were telling me about before.”

He nodded and rested his pole against a palm trunk. A little blue lizard skittered away. “Ah, you have seen them?”

“I have. They’re—they’re…”—
two of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen
—“amazing.”

“Very friendly,
oui
?”

“I’ll say.” Her skin flushed with warmth as she recalled exactly how friendly they’d been. She kept her expression neutral. “I was wondering, in the legend, is there anything that might change them back to humans?”

He tipped his graying head, smiling mysteriously. “
Oui
. As you recall, it was love turned to jealousy that condemned them to their fate. Only unselfish sharing between them and a woman of pure heart can free them.”

Pure heart, eh? Well, that left her out. With all the bitterness her breakup with Jack had left her feeling, her heart was about as pure as mud. She tried not to let her disappointment show. “Only a pure heart? Nothing else?”

“They need a woman who will accept them for who they are.”

“So…” She weighed her words carefully. “Say they find this woman, then they’re free forever, right? They don’t have to go back to being dolphins?”

He raised one bushy, gray eyebrow, and his rolling French accent gained a harsh edge. “It’s not enough to find the woman. She must give herself to them completely. If their bond is not strong enough, then the curse comes back tenfold. Kanaloa knows they committed a great sin. Mohea was the daughter of a king, pure and trusting, and so the price to pay for her death must be equally great. All involved”—he made a horizontal circle with his hand—“must make a sacrifice. The woman, too. She did not obey Kanaloa, who told her to find another man. She defiled the gift of life he gave her.”

“Haven’t they all sacrificed enough already?”

“Some lessons still to be learned,” he said, peering at her with narrowed eyes. “By everyone.”

A prickly flush rushed over her skin, and for a second, she could have sworn Henri’s eyes grew as black as the heart of a storm, and the air around him crackled as if lightning were about to strike. Then as quickly as it came, the weird feeling passed, the sun shone down, and it was just kindly old Henri, the island’s custodian, nodding at her. When she looked at her arms, though, all the fine hairs were standing on end.

He picked up his worn, green-and-white fishing pole again and gazed benignly out at the horizon. “Think I’ll take the canoe out before the storm comes. Good time for catching squid now. Maybe I’ll see your dolphins, eh?”

She rubbed her arms, smoothing away the goose bumps and patting down the hair. “Are we supposed to get a storm?”

“Pele is restless, and Kanaloa walks the path. Best get back to your hut. Time grows short.”

For what? Until the storm? Must be. He clearly thought the dolphins were still frolicking around the atoll. She recognized the name of Pele, the volcano goddess, and hoped he didn’t expect an eruption. His words added to her sense of urgency. She had only a few days left on the island. A few days to figure out how to help Moana and Rahiti, whether she was the woman or not. “Uh, Henri, how do I get back to my hut?”

“Follow the path.” He pointed back the way she’d come. As if it had always been there, the worn trail appeared. “Follow your heart,” he murmured.

She looked at him, unsure if she’d heard him right, but he’d already turned away and was walking in the opposite direction. Had he really said that last part, or had she imagined it? Still rubbing her arms, she spared a glance for Kanaloa, but now the statue just seemed to be a dull block of stone, the carving worn by years of tropical storms and prying vines. Either she was losing her mind—a distinct possibility—or there were some really strange forces at work here.

Which meant Rahiti and Moana could be in danger.

She stumbled a bit returning to the trail, but soon her feet found a rhythm, and by the time she saw her little hut through the trees, she’d broken into a jog. When she burst through the door of the hut, her heart sank. It was empty.

Then she remembered what Rahiti had said—they’d be down by the water. In case… Oh, God, what if they’d turned back while she was gone? The sun had slid far down the horizon. Somehow, her hour-long walk had taken a lot longer than she’d expected.

Lyric gasped in relief when she saw the two men lying at the edge of the waves then caught her breath again. Why were they so still? She ran to the shore and skidded to a halt just feet from them. What she saw made her press her hand to her mouth.

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, naked as two lovers, their cocks lax against belly and thigh. Moana, his face sweet in sleep, had thrown an arm and leg over Rahiti’s body. Rahiti had tangled the fingers of his left hand in Moana’s hair, and his other fingers looped around Moana’s wrist. Somehow, even asleep, he still managed to look stern, but they balanced each other. If they’d truly spent the last couple hundred years together as dolphins, how deep their bond must be. They’d be the only two of their kind on the entire planet.