Lana

He spanked my ass hard for that one. He even threw me over his shoulder, standing and striding from the room as he did so. I loved that he was so big that it was no effort for him to carry me around like that. “Fine, fine,” I said between giggles. “My mouth can be your hand.”



He swatted me several more times as he carried me down the stairs. He tossed me onto his soft, white leather sofa, and I saw that he was grinning. That smile was all it took to flood me with the years of memories that had made me fall so helplessly for him.



Memories of this hard, mean-looking man who didn’t have a soft bone in his hard-muscled body, but who could always muster up the softest, sweetest smile, reserved just for me. I had been a willful, spoiled, stubborn child, dogging his every step, insisting that he take me to the beach during his precious free time.



He had patiently taught me to surf, spending countless hours in the ocean with me as I learned. It had been a slow process. I hadn’t been a quick learner at all, but I had been determined. And if anyone so much as looked wrong at the little white girl who couldn’t surf for shit, but still took up a precious spot at one of the best surf spots, Akira was more than happy to set them straight. He had been scary when he got protective. He was always ready for a fight. But I had never been scared. I had adored that he was only a softy for me. No one else could make his eyes go soft like I could, and I had been paying attention.



Even his long-time, on-again off-again girlfriend didn’t get the tender looks that he bestowed on me. And when I would finally catch on, picking up whatever thing I got into my head that week for him to teach me, he would pat me on the head, give me that smile that I craved, and say softly, “Good job, Lana. I’m so proud of you.”



My mind swung back to the present when he spoke, walking into his kitchen.



“It’s nice to have the old, infuriating Lana back. I missed my little giggling vixen. Don’t move. We can eat right here.”



I scrambled up, disregarding his order completely. “Um, eat on a white sofa? Are you crazy? And I’m filthy. You really shouldn’t set me on anything clean right now.” I followed him into the kitchen, pressing against his back as he dug through the fridge. “I’m so full of your cum right now that it’s dripping down my leg,” I whispered in his ear, wanting to get a reaction. I got one.



He had me on my back on his table between one breath and the next. He was spreading my legs, studying me for evidence of what I’d said. It was there. “One more time,” he told me, his voice a sexy rasp. “Then we eat, and shower.”



“Yes,” I gasped. He put my ankles on his shoulders and plunged in with a groan, working in and out of me very slowly at first, testing my soreness with a few concerned questions. He was rubbing my clit as he asked them, and I sent him a passion-infused glare. “I’m fine,” I told him, and he thrust much harder. “More than fine. I’m getting my brains fucked out by the hottest man on the planet.”



He liked that assessment, his breath getting faster, his thrusts harder and heavier as he got closer to his climax. He rubbed a finger on my clit almost frantically, trying to catch me up to him.



I was there the whole time, coming when he did, watching his warm brown eyes the entire time.



He didn’t move after we’d finished, just stayed buried deep, smiling down at me. He stroked a hand along my torso, caressing softly.



“You feel so good, Lana. Fuck, you’re as tight as you were when I took your virginity. Fucking unbelievable.”



“You’re just so big, I’m not sure you could tell the difference,” I told him. He squeezed my breast hard for that one. “I love having you inside of me, love your hands on me. You jerk off to my picture? I get off to the memory of our first time together.”



“Well, well, well, isn’t that cute?” Milena drawled from the open front door. No other voice in the world could have been more unwelcome in that moment.



CHAPTER FIVE



We were clearly visible from her vantage point, in about the most vulnerable position imaginable. She glared at Akira, but when she swung her hate-filled eyes to me, I knew that I was the real object of her fury.



“I always knew it,” she screeched. “You lying asshole! I always knew that you’d slept with her.” She pointed a finger at me. “I’m going to mess up your face, you stupid whore. I’m going to put your skinny ass in the hospital for this.”



Akira had to slip out of me noisily to walk to the deranged woman. “You need to calm the fuck down, Milena. Lana, please get dressed and wait outside. Your clothes are by the door.”



I did as he said, the entire situation suddenly coming into focus for me. I grabbed the first island dress I saw, shrugging into it, grabbed my handbag, and rushed out the front door. I didn’t wait outside, though. I just started walking, in no direction in particular, my mind racing.



Oh, god, are those two still together? I felt ill at the thought.



But he’d gone to comfort her and just kicked me out, like I was trash. Or the other woman, whom his girlfriend had just caught him fucking.



I barely made it to some nearby bushes before I emptied out the contents of my stomach, the thought made me so sick.



I had just assumed, because the engagement had been called off, that they weren’t together anymore. But she apparently had a key to his house, and he’d so obviously been distressed that she’d found us together. I’d seen his face. It had been downright panicked as he’d told me to wait outside.



I wandered off the small road, walking rather aimlessly, pointed towards the beach.



How many times and how many ways, could my heart be broken by that man?



He just didn’t feel for me the way I felt for him, and he never would. It didn’t work that way, I knew.



I had tried to be interested in other men after I’d left for the mainland. In college, and even in my short modeling career, I had dated, even tried to hook up, but I wasn’t interested in other men. It just wasn’t in me to love or even want anyone that wasn’t Akira. I couldn’t force myself to have those kinds of feelings, just like he couldn’t force himself to love me the way I longed for. It was a hard lesson that I’d thought I’d learned years ago.



Yet here I was again, heartbroken as though I’d let myself hope again for his unattainable love. And there was always Milena, somewhere in the picture. She must be the one that he adored, the only one he could really see. I could understand that kind of devotion, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It hurt more, to be the seductress who had tempted him so shamelessly from the one he obviously loved. I hated that the most, that I might be the other woman. I didn’t want to be that, not ever, not even for Akira.



I had been walking in the general direction of the beach, through a rough field, when I tripped—in a hole, I noted, dazed.



I saw that my bare foot was bleeding, as well. I studied it closely, surprised to note that it wasn’t one cut that had made it bleed, but many. And my other foot was bleeding, as well, lots of little tiny cuts and scrapes lining the bottom of both feet. I must have passed through some stickers without even feeling it. I still didn’t feel it, in fact, so I just shrugged it off, and stood back up, continuing on to the beach. My left ankle was a little weak from the fall, so I had to favor my right strongly to keep walking. I didn’t let up though, only stopping when I’d finally reached the beach. I had walked far, I noted. I couldn’t even see Akira’s house anymore from this beach.



I sank into the sand, curling into a sad little ball, like I had when I was upset as a child. Akira had always been there to comfort me, then. And he’d often been the only one who could, the only one I’d wanted to see, if I was upset or sad. But I’d learned to do without him for my entire adult life. It had been a sad life. I’d been so lonely, though I kept endlessly busy with work and family obligations.



I hadn’t even tried to date in recent years, which seemed to be for the best. For me, at least. I didn’t care to even try to become interested in men, much to my parents’ dismay. They were desperate for grandchildren at this point in their lives, and my older brother and I seemed to be hopeless in that department. My brother was a shameless playboy. And I was a hopeless spinster, I was sure, from their exasperated point of view.



I fought it for a while, trying to keep myself a little numb, but eventually I just broke, sobbing softly into my hands. No matter how I looked at it, my future just looked so…empty, without Akira in it. I was so sick of feeling empty. And a few brief moments being full again only made me feel it more acutely.



I was a little stunned to see that it was fully dark as I lifted my wet hands from my tear-streaked face. I didn’t have to look around again to know that I was utterly lost. I was too exhausted to care about my predicament, though. I curled back into my little ball, and fell into an exhausted sleep.



The sun was directly above me when I opened my sleepy eyes, immediately flinching back from the harsh light. It was several minutes before I mustered up the energy to rise to my feet. My whole body ached, my feet and ankle hurting with every step I took along the sandy beach. I couldn’t believe that I had slept for so long. It had to be at least noon, going by the sun. I dug my phone out of my purse, not at all surprised to see that the battery had died.



I walked for maybe twenty minutes when I spotted some people on the beach. I hobbled to the family of three slowly but purposefully.



The mother, a heavy-set white woman, noticed me first, giving me a wide-eyed, surprised look. She elbowed her husband, pointing at me. I must have been a sight, by the concerned way they rushed to me, carrying their small child with them. I thought it was very nice, how concerned they were for an absolute stranger.



“Are you okay?” the woman asked, kind concern in every line of her face. I really didn’t want to know how bad I must look at the moment, to elicit such a response. I just nodded, though I was far from all right. After being so sick the day before, and then laying in the hot sun for the duration of the morning, unprotected in the sand, I felt close to passing out.



I had to clear my dry throat several times before I could speak. “Do you have a phone that I could use? And could you tell me where I am?” I asked in a hoarse voice.



The worried couple was beyond helpful, rushing to give me their cell phone, and giving me very detailed directions to this spot of beach.



I called the hotel, directing the staff to send a driver to pick me up. Even the receptionist on the phone sounded worried. I supposed that I shouldn’t have been surprised by that, since my luggage had arrived at the hotel a full day ago, and I had been conspicuously absent. I hoped that no one had contacted my father. He would worry needlessly. My mother would likely just shrug it all off, saying that I was a grown-up who could take care of myself.



The hotel car arrived very promptly, the couple hovering near me in concern all the while. I gave them my card. “Please, don’t hesitate to call me, if you ever wish to stay at any of the Middleton hotels. You were a lifesaver for me today, and I would be happy to return the favor. I can arrange for comp rooms for you any time you need. Thank you,” I told them, my voice stiff and formal. I didn’t want to be so stiff with the nice couple, but it came out that way as all of my usual social graces were lost under the effort of simply trying not to pass out.