SHATTERED

A BLACK DIAMOND NOVEL

UNLUCKY 13
BOOK 13
CHARLI MEADOWS
 Copyright © 2023 by Charli Meadows
All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for brief quotations in a book review.

Editing by Novel Mechanic

Cover Design by Rebel Ink Co.
Formatting by Charli Meadows
 CONTENTS

Author’s Note
Keep In Touch With Charli
Playlist
Welcome to Black Diamond Resort and Spa

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue

Need More?
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Charli Meadows
 ABOUT SHATTERED

Welcome to Black Diamond Resort and Spa. . .

Ah. The former child star, throwing a tantrum at the airport until he gets
his way. How appropriate. I keep an eye on who comes and goes from my
island, but I also keep a low profile, choosing to blend in as one of the
regulars. I stay in a villa on the water, like everyone else, and my new
neighbor is none other than Jett Roman himself.
The exhausted, entitled brat with the smart mouth and tempting glare
resists all help from my staff. He seeks me out daily, venting his
frustrations, ignoring all rules. He disrespects my establishment and,
unknowingly, me.
I’m a very patient man, but everyone has their limits. I will be gentle
with the delicate little doll before me, but he needs to listen. Because it’s
clear to everyone else that he’s utterly shattered, and I can’t seem to stop
myself from wanting to bend him a little before I heal his broken pieces.
Shattered is the final book in the Unlucky 13 shared world. It is a
standalone gay romance. You can expect a light, enemies-to-lovers dynamic
with humor, an age gap, hurt/comfort, and a hidden identity. This novel is
intended for 18+ readers. See Author’s Note for Content Warnings.
 AUTHOR’S NOTE

This was such a fun experience, and I’m so grateful to be a part of an

amazing shared world. The Unlucky 13 are all standalone novels, taking
place in the shared island world of Black Diamond Resort and Spa. There
are some crossovers in my book, so if you’re looking for more from Chase
and Holden, check out Cora Rose’s book Exception. For more Theo and
Jordan, check out Reckless by Becca Steele. And for more Austin O’Kane
and his mystery man, read Scandal by T. Ashleigh.
Callum and Jett have the best dynamic, and it was so fun to write them.
The age gap situation hit just right, and I could not stop laughing. I would
consider this a pretty light-hearted book, although it deals with a few heavy
issues from Jett’s past, so please read below for content warnings. I love
these guys so much, and I hope you do too.
Content Warnings: Language, explicit scenes, drug use, anxiety, and
mentions of past parental abuse. Please be warned this is super steamy, and
there are spankings!
 KEEP IN TOUCH WITH CHARLI

Be sure to join my Facebook Group, Charli’s Meadow!

 PLAYLIST

Available on Spotify

LIFE AFTER SALEM by Lil Nas X

Summer Love by Sarah Black, adi.
Karma by Taylor Swift, Ice Spice
Mess It Up by Gracie Abrams
I HATE EVERYBODY by Halsey
People Watching by Conan Gray
Feels Like by Gracie Abrams
Can We Pretend That We’re Good? By Daniel Seavey
lovely by Billie Eilish, Khalid
Missed You by The Weeknd
Tennessee Rain by Jada Facer
I’m The Dumb One by Pardyalone
Creepin’ by Metro Boomin, The Weeknd, 21 Savage
Strawberry Huracan by MASN
Can’t Help It by INTRN, Annábla
my type by brb.
Love Of My Life by Harry Styles
Snow On The Beach by Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey
I Tried by Daniel Seavey
MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) by Lil Nas X
Falling Slowly by Vwillz
 DEDICATION

For my bestie, T. Ashleigh.

 WELCOME TO BLACK DIAMOND
RESORT AND SPA

Since our founding in 2001 by the Diamond family, we’ve strived to

provide a unique experience for those who live in the public eye. Privacy
and discretion are of the utmost importance to us; you won’t find paparazzi
or journalists looking for a juicy story on our shores, only the relaxing
lapping of waves and delicious drinks.
Enjoy the all-inclusive, private resort built exclusively for the elite.
From luxury villas to gorgeous white sand beaches, there’s something here
for everyone on the island. Water sports, hiking, massages, and five-star
gourmet meals will have you never wanting to leave.
So take a deep breath and let us handle the rest.
CHAPTER ONE
Jett

M y mind is fragmented, shattered into a thousand pieces, as my

thoughts chaotically race through my brain. I can’t focus. Can’t
commit to one thing. One single thought.
“Ahhhh.” I dig my palms into my eye sockets until bright lights flash
behind my closed lids. I just need everything to slow down and give me a
fucking moment’s rest.
I pop the Ritalin my best friend and occasional co-star, Zander, gave me
and wait for it to take effect. I need to concentrate tonight. Everyone who’s
anyone is attending this industry party. I don’t want Rhys Dameron stealing
my next role, so I need to fucking schmooze these old bastards.
I swivel in my seat and peer out at the club, sipping my drink and
searching for who to speak to first. Tonight is going to be a success, I know
it. I have no other choice.
I start to relax, my mind finally focusing. I think.
Just as I’ve found my first target, a popular magazine editor, Zander
bumps my arm and frantically digs through his man bag, nearly spilling my
friggin’ mojito.
“Shit, Jett. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit,” he shouts into my ear, almost making me
fall out of my seat. We’re at Lotus Lounge, the swanky new club that I
actually don’t give a shit about besides trying to further my career tonight.
“The pills. . .” Zander trails off, eyes wide with panic and maybe a little
fear.
“What?! Was it rat poison?” My mind automatically takes me to the
darkest places sometimes.
“Huh?” he asks, brows scrunching in confusion.
“Was it?!” I shriek. “Do I need to call poison control?! What’s their
number? Oh God! I feel it now. . . I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
“No!” he yells, then shakes me slightly, trying to cut through my rising
panic.
“Perish. Expire. Kick the bucket.” I can’t stop. “Bite the dust—”
“No! Fuck.” He lets go and runs his hands through his bright blond hair,
mussing the shiny strands up. “It was molly.”
“Zander! Fuck! Why?!”
 “I know! I’m sorry! I got my baggies mixed up. I didn’t mean to,” he
pleads.
“Oh, God. Briggs is going to kill me. I already know it. I wish they still
made E! True Hollywood Stories because I’d earn one. I can see it now.
Drug-addicted child star murdered by his manager. Fuck me, Zan. I think I
can feel it already. What’s it gonna do to me? Should I go stick my finger
down my throat?”
“You took it twenty minutes ago. It’s too late to stop it but too early to
feel it. But you’ll be fine. I’m sure. Extra happy, maybe?”
His eyes dart to the side, then back to me.
Why is he acting so shifty?
“You don’t know?!” I accuse, a wave of hurt washing over me.
“Never taken it myself, dude. Sorry. For real. I just supply it to the elite.
You know that.”
Zander tries to get in good with every producer in Hollywood, easily
procuring any drug they want or need. Aaron O’Kane, one of two heirs to
the biggest pharmaceutical company on the West Coast, is his other best
friend. And we do not get along.
Zander uses that close connection to his own benefit.
Illegally.
And I’ve never cared until this very moment.
“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me. This isn’t good. Rhys is here tonight. The
producers of the Resilience saga are looking for their next male lead! You
know I’ve always dreamed of being a vampire, Zan! And the editors from
Haute Monde are here too. I’m trying to book the cover! Swear to God, if
they pick Rhys because you accidentally gave me molly, I’ll be the one
doing the murdering in my E! True Hollywood Story.”
My heart starts to race, the anxiety taking over, or maybe it’s the ecstasy
starting to work. It’ll probably hit me faster than most people. I’m not very
tall, and I rarely go to the gym, despite my manager’s constant bitching.
“Chill out, Jett. You’re always so high-strung.”
“Yes, I am! Precisely. And that’s why I needed the fucking Ritalin to
help me concentrate tonight! Not molly!”
“Who’s Molly?” a raspy, feminine voice asks from my other side.
I spin on the barstool and face Lucy, my other best friend and partner in
crime.
 My vision slightly wavers, the three mojitos and two Moscow mules not
helping my situation.
“What?” I forgot what she just asked. My brain is foggy.
“Who’s Molly? Are you cheating on me with another woman, bestie?”
Lucy says with a chuckle.
“Zander gave me molly. The fucking drug, Lucy! Tonight of all nights.”
I throw my arms up in exasperation, and they land back down with a thunk
on the bar top.
Ouch.
Why are my fingers getting so tingly, and why did the bar just friggin’
move?
I stare at my hands and then glance up, the bartender eyeing me with
curiosity and disdain, but I just shrug. I’ve got no clue why that happened
either, dude.
“You okay?” Lucy asks, suddenly very serious.
I turn toward her, taking in her beautiful red hair, big doe eyes, and cute
little nose.
“I love you, bestie,” I can’t help but say instead of answering her
question.
I’m warm and happy now. And I think I feel like dancing.
A burst of energy hits me as the drug begins to fully set in, rinsing away
the anxiety and replacing it with impulsiveness.
A slow smile curves my lips as I gaze into Lucy’s somewhat hesitant
eyes.
“Wanna dance?” I purr, ready to make a scene with my best girlfriend.
I don’t wait for a response before I hop off my seat, grab her hand, and
drag her toward the dance floor.
I’m going to fuck shit up tonight.

“WHAT ARE YOU ON, JETT?” a harsh voice accuses, roughly shaking
me and rousing me from a peaceful sleep.
“Fuck off,” I mumble, still half passed out.
“I need to know if you need to go to the emergency room and get your
stomach pumped, kid. What’d you take?”
 “Dunno. A few things.”
“How do you not know?” he asks in disbelief.
“Zander accidentally gave me molly. Then Lucy gave me something
else. Can’t remember. But I love Lucy.”
He snorts, or maybe I snort. Actually, I’m positive it was me. Briggs
never laughs.
“IloveLucy,” I repeat in what might possibly be a slight slur.
I drift off once more, and laughter surrounds me, choking me like a
hundred clown faces coming in and out of focus. I swat at the air,
desperately trying to make them go away.
Disperse.
“Stop it. Stupid clowns.”
“Jett. What the hell are you talking about? Clowns?”
My eyes pop open.
Why does my manager have a big red nose and sharp white teeth?
“Go away, evil clown. Take your balloons somewhere else. I won’t fall
for your tricks,” I shout, or maybe it’s just a whisper.
A loud sigh echoes around me, followed by a phone ringing.
“Briggs. Yeah. He’s here. We’ll be there in thirty. Have the doctor ready
to look him over. I’ve got no clue what the kid is on, as per usual.”
“I already told you, IloveLucy!” I mumble-yell in my own defense. It
makes sense to me. I swear to God.
“Jett, you’re in the back room of Lotus Lounge, passed out in nothing
but your underwear. Your hot pink thong underwear.”
I groan, a wave of dizziness making me feel nauseous. “I’m gonna be
sick,” I scramble to my feet, swaying as Briggs wraps his suit jacket around
me and guides me to the giant trash can in the corner of the room. I lean
forward, throwing up massive amounts of liquid until my throat burns and
my nose stings.
Fuck, that was harsh.
“Briggs,” I whimper, hanging over the trash can pathetically. “Take me
home.”
Another loud sigh is all I hear before the darkness swallows my
consciousness whole.
“I’M NOT ON DRUGS. I took molly. One friggin’ time, Briggs! By
accident! Get over it!” I defend myself from under the thick, warm hotel
comforter.
“How can you be sure it was an accident?! Don’t be so naïve, Jett. You
know this is a dog-eat-dog world. Our industry is filled with scumbags and
pretenders. Wake up and get with it. Did you know that your friend Zander
got the supporting role in Resilience? Right next to Rhys Dameron. He gets
to be a vampire. I wonder how that happened?”
He taps his chin as he paces in front of me, acting like a disappointed
father who’s about to ground me after lecturing me for five hours. Allen
Briggs is in his late forties, with dull brown hair that’s starting to gray at the
temples and a five o’clock shadow that never fades. He thinks he controls
every choice in my life, governed by my parents’ word, and well, I guess he
pretty much has. Briggs has been my asshole manager since I was eight and
booked my first commercial.
“Now you’re just a joke in the tabloids. A laugh. An out-of-control
child star who went off the deep end, taking one too many drugs. And now
your best friend is going to be the star.”
I rub my forehead, an annoying headache pulsing. I need ibuprofen,
orange juice, and some breakfast. Stat. “What are you saying, Briggs? Just
spit it out. I’m not feeling the guessing game this morning. I know I fucked
up, but I’m happy for Zan. Really.”
Fuck Rhys, though. That prick.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you realized your so-called best friend
just sabotaged you to take you out of the running. It’s obvious, Jett! And it’s
even more obvious that you need help.”
“I told you I’m not on drugs, Briggs! And Zan would never do that to
me on purpose. It was an accident!”
God. I feel like a broken record.
“Well, regardless of what you think, you need a break. I’m sending you
away.”
“Away? Where? What does that mean?” I’m whining, even to my own
ears.
“Just a little getaway.”
“Where, Briggs?” He’s purposefully being vague, and it’s starting to
piss me off. I’m already hungover and hangry. “Spit it out.”
“Black Diamond Resort and Spa.”
 My hackles rise. That place is known for its expensive-ass rehab for the
super elite.
I don’t need rehab or any version of help.
“It’s just a vacation, Jett. To get away. Destress and regroup. Get back
on track. There’s a health spa at the very least, but if you want professional
help, there’s that too.”
I eye him wearily, too tired to argue as fatigue hits me hard. He better be
telling the truth. It better be my choice.
“When do I leave?”
His dark eyes don’t waver, never breaking contact.
“Tomorrow morning. Early.”
“Briggs!” I cry, two seconds away from a full-on meltdown.
This is bullshit.
CHAPTER TWO
Jett

N ot even twenty-four hours later, I step off the small private plane,
squinting into the bright sunlight. I hate tiny spaces, and that flight
was the worst. I was convinced we’d plummet to our death, sinking
to the bottom of the ocean, never to be recovered again. But we made it,
and now here I am. In paradise.
I take a deep breath, deciding to make the best of it. The warm, tropical
air smells like salt water, flowers, and relaxation. Even though it’s humid as
fuck out here. Before I can take in the lush friggin’ beauty of this place and
attempt to appreciate it, some jackass ruins my day.
“Mr. Roman. Hello. I’m Lawrence Shaw, your Intake Liaison here at
Black Diamond. Please follow me. I’ll get you checked in and show you to
your room.” His smile is forced and hollow as he points to a golf cart.
Intake? My room?
Oh, hell no!
This is my vacation. I’m supposed to have a private villa on the water.
There’s only one person responsible for this, and I could wring his
friggin’ neck.
“I will not follow you, Lawrence,” I huff, digging through my bag,
desperately searching for my phone, and praying it works on this tiny
fucking island in the middle of the Pacific.
“I need to call my manager,” I state flatly, even though my anxiety is
through the fucking roof right now, and my hands are shaking.
That lying sonofabitch, Briggs!
I bet my parents put him up to this. Now that I’m twenty-one, my
mother has no legal control over me or my money, and they haven’t been
too happy about that.
“There’s no cellular service at our rehab center, Mr. Roman,” Lawrence
says cooly.
Who is this snobby asshole?
“If you would please have a seat on the golf cart, I will escort you to the
check-in desk. You can use the phone there and get this all sorted.” There’s
an evil glint in his eye, swear to God.
I snort at his ludicrous statement. “I’m no fool, Larry. I know how these
things work. You want me to lower my guard so you can trick me into a
voluntary hold at your mental institution, where you’ll strap me down in my
sleep and give me a lobotomy! I’ll die here, lingering as a ghost trapped
forever. I’ll haunt you, Larry! Friggin’ haunt you and your descendants for
all of eternity.”
Again, my mind takes me to dark places, but I don’t trust this stuck-up
prick!
“Mr. Roman, if you’ll just calm down, please.” He holds his hands out
in front of him like I’m some wild animal he’s trying not to spook.
“I will not. Step back, Lawrence. I know self-defense.”
I don’t exactly, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one can make me
go to rehab if I don’t want to. I’ll live in the jungle and eat coconuts and
bananas if I have to.
Lawrence presses something in his ear, a communication device, and
whispers low. He never takes his judgy eyes off me, his gaze searing into
mine, making the panic inside me rise.
He steps forward, and I take two steps back.
What’s he doing?
“Lawrence. . .” I say hesitantly, unsure if I could actually get away from
him.
“This is a misunderstanding. I don’t need rehab. Just let me call
Briggs.”
Lawrence lunges for me. Actually fucking lunges!
I turn abruptly, narrowly slipping away from his grasp, and take off,
immediately slamming into a solid brick wall.
Oof.
Fuck! I swear to God, there wasn’t anything there a second ago.
My gaze darts up and locks onto a pair of intense light gray eyes, and
I’m instantly transfixed.
“Thought we had a runner,” Lawrence says from behind me, chuckling
cruelly. “Thanks, Cal. I got it from here,” he adds.
Cal.
The brick wall’s name is Cal.
I like it.
Cal’s eyes narrow on Lawrence.
“This young man’s life is no joke,” he states firmly in a deep, sultry
accent.
Oh, holy hell, he’s British.
 Fuck me, I’ve died and gone to purgatory because if I can’t have this
man, my life will be over, and I may as well go to fucking hell.
“I never said it was,” the snooty asshole replies, attempting to defend
himself.
“Well, Lawrence, I am not here to argue, but I suggest you turn around
and head back to Intake. If Mr. Roman says he—”
“It’s Jett. My name is Jett,” I interrupt Cal, still wrapped in his arms
after nearly plowing him over. If that were even possible for me to do to a
man this size, with muscles this large.
I subtly wrap my hands around his biceps and squeeze, feeling the firm
flesh.
“If Jett says this is a mistake, you can only take his word for it and get
him to a phone. This is not a prison. This is a resort and a rehab, designed to
help, not harm.”
Lawrence sputters, “Y-yes, sir. I just can’t let an unregistered guest
wander the island alone. I need to get him checked in somewhere. He needs
a wristband as well.”
“I’ll handle it. Tell your superiors Callum Ryan is taking him to the
resort side. They won’t question you. He can make his phone call there.”
“Sir. . .”
“Good day, Lawrence,” Cal responds in a clipped tone before glancing
down at me.
I’m still in his arms, staring at him like a lost little boy and maybe
feeling like one too.
“You ready?” he asks, staring at me before sliding his sunglasses down
over his eyes, blocking my view of his steely gaze, and snapping me out of
my trance.
I step back, out of his arms, and suddenly feel shy. I get this awkward
smile and friggin’ stutter too!
“I. . . uh. . . y-yeah. I’m ready.”
“Brilliant.”
Cal grabs my suitcase handle and pulls it after him, with me running
behind like a hyper puppy.
“I can do that! Or actually, Lawrence can. Larry!” I shout, but he’s
already nearing his golf cart.
“I’ve had enough of that snooty bastard for one day,” Cal declares in
that sexy voice of his.
 “That’s exactly what I said!” I holler with excitement. “Well, at least in
my head,” I add, hating that I probably sound like a stupid fucking kid to
this sexy older man. And by older, I mean thirty-five. Forty. Tops.
Cal chuckles at that, and the timbre is deep and seductive. Even though
I’m sweating profusely in this humidity and my tank top sticks to my back,
a chill runs down my spine.
“Well, here we are.”
Cal lifts my heavy suitcase into the passenger seat of a beautiful teal
Cadillac Eldorado from the 1950s, like something you’d see driving around
Havana. It’s beautiful.
“You’ll have to squeeze next to me, if you don’t mind, Jett. My car is
full of work supplies.”
“Nope! Don’t mind at all, Cal. This car is beautiful,” I say in awe,
ghosting my hand over the elegant curve of the vintage convertible and
subtly eyeing what’s in his backseat—boxes of computer equipment and
mounds of drawing tubes. I ignore my curiosity about what this stranger
does for a living and continue to appreciate the classic vehicle in front of
me.
I’ve never had my own car, only drivers.
No freedom. No choices. And my parents tried to do it again,
controlling me by sending me to rehab. And Briggs too. That lying traitor.
“Well, then. Shall we?”
Oh. Whoops.
He’s already in the driver’s seat, the engine running, and I’m still over
here, fondling his bumper like a fucking creep.
“Yep!” I say, mentally face-palming myself and stressing over my next
conundrum.
My suitcase is blocking the passenger side, and Cal is already buckled
up, foot on the brake.
“I. . . Um.” I hesitate, glancing at my two options. I swear to God, I see
a twinkle in his eye through those dark fucking shades. He’s laughing at me
in that dry, asshole British way. I know it!
Fine, then. Don’t help me out, Cal.
Mind made up, I open the driver’s side door.
“Excuse me,” I huff as I step onto the edge of the car and sling a leg
over his lap, effectively straddling him, as I attempt to swing my other leg
over and plop down in the middle seat next to him.
 During this acrobatic feat, Cal grabs my waist, making me squeak
slightly as he guides me up and over his lap, but not before I feel his dick
graze my ass.
His hard dick.
I suck in a breath of air and try not to think about it. Try not to imagine
the length, the girth, the weight of it in my hand or on my tongue. Or in my
—
Cal clears his throat and deposits me on the middle seat, where I quickly
spin around and secure my lap belt.
“Ready!” My voice cracks, and fuck, that’s embarrassing. I went
through puberty like eight friggin’ years ago! I can legally drink now. This
should not be happening to me.
“The drive won’t be too long, and you can take in the sights along the
way.”
Okay, he’s back to business, like he didn’t just get a hard-on over me.
Fine, two can play that game.
“Great, Cal. Are you the island tour guide? Can you tell me about the
flora and fauna?”
I’m a smartass; I know it.
“Jett. . .” he growls in that sexy friggin’ accent.
Backfire!
“Fine. Whatever,” I grumble, crossing my arms and staring straight
ahead, ignoring the sights like a stubborn ass.
Cal’s phone rings, and he accepts the call to the tiny earpiece he quickly
inserts into his ear.
“Yes. Mm-hm. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem then, should it? Right.
Yes. I’ll call you in ten. I’m. . . preoccupied at the moment.”
Preoccupied? Rude!
I huff and let him hear it, adding a mumbled insult for good measure.
“Here we are. Just go to the front desk and ask to use the phone. Tell
them Callum Ryan brought you,” Cal says as we stop in front of the resort
check-in. He leaves the car running, like he’s not going to get out and help
me!
“Can you manage that on your own this time?” He nods toward the
giant suitcase next to me on the passenger seat.
He’s completely blowing me off right now, which irks me for some
reason.
 “Yes. I can handle it,” I say, sounding bitchy to my own ears.
I climb over the suitcase this time, instead of Cal, and nearly fall over
the window trying to open the door.
Asshole!
He’s doing this on purpose, I swear.
I struggle to lift my suitcase and set it on its wheels without scratching
his precious car. He’s probably one of those guys who’d strangle you for
scuffing his paint job.
“This island sucks balls. I hate it already. Whoever owns this dumb
place, with all these terrible people, can go to fucking hell!”
Cal’s eyebrows dart up from behind his dark shades.
I turn around and stomp off toward the front lobby, where I better be
checking into a bungalow on the fucking water. Or I will not be staying.
Briggs needs to explain himself.
And this front desk attendant better be nice because I’m nearing
meltdown levels, and I need to get to my villa to decompress. Immediately.
CHAPTER THREE
Callum

T his island has been in my family’s possession for generations, starting

with my great-grandfather’s obsession with buried treasure. I
privately own many archipelagos around the world, but Black
Diamond is my top earner.
Both a resort and a rehab, the elite pay exorbitant amounts of money to
stay here for various reasons, from needing an ultra-private vacation
getaway to going through withdrawal at one of the world’s top recovery
centers. Regardless, it’s a place to escape with no paparazzi, no hurry, and
where dark secrets are always kept. I don’t own the resort or rehab itself,
only the island it resides on. Over twenty years ago, my old man teamed up
with the father and son duo, Craig and Dexter Diamond, to help establish
Black Diamond Resort and Spa.
It’s also my home. I live in a villa on the water, and I have my own
secrets.
No one knows that my family owns this island. That I own this island.
They just think I’m some heir to a shipping mogul, and well, they aren’t
wrong. But what they don’t know is that I could snap my fingers and
change their destinies.
My father passed away three years ago, and I am the eldest son. My
younger brothers, Liam and Michael, are far too immature. They’re still
home in England, attending uni and hitting their favorite pub every night.
I stepped into my role easily, having been groomed for this for nearly
twenty years. I’m thirty-eight now, and although I may not look it, I feel
like I’m eighty. Running billion-dollar corporations and your own design
firm is quite tiresome, even with a close team of advisors, assistants, and
my mentor, Gerald, to help me. He insisted I find a hobby to balance the
constant need to work, and my mind instantly goes to the newest island
arrival, Jett Roman.
I was actually enjoying myself, toying with the little brat, until I was
interrupted by an unnecessary phone call. He’s fascinating, if I’m being
honest—the child actor turned out-of-control teen star, turned washed-up
twenty-one-year-old with a drug and partying problem. If you listen to the
tabloids, that is.
 Not even five minutes after he stumbled from my car, I receive yet
another call. This time it’s Ginny, my assistant. She never allows me to miss
a meeting, so she gets paid double the going rate of a personal assistant,
whatever the hell that is. I just let her set her own salary.
“Ginny. Don’t tell me I missed a meeting? I was only offline for one
night.” I took a private plane to my house in Tahiti for a much-needed break
from this little island paradise. It feels good to be back, nonetheless. This is
still home.
“No. But, Cal. We have another problem.”
“Virginia, please spit it out.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, unsure if I
can handle any more business-related problems. All my mind can think of
now is the smart mouth, rude behavior problem I met five minutes ago
named Jett Roman. I had to grip the steering wheel until my knuckles
turned white to stop from touching him or fully pulling him onto my lap.
I clear my throat and adjust myself before I drive off the skinny
mountain road because I’m too distracted thinking of the little brat. The
resort lobby isn’t far from my villa, so I arrive home in no time and park in
the small lot allowed for the few residents who live here year-round and
want a car to cruise in, me included. Flying a vehicle in is not cheap, so
there aren’t many, mostly golf carts.
I fumble through the glove compartment for the keys to my own golf
cart.
“Aha! Found them,” I say, Ginny hearing my every word since I’m still
wearing my earpiece. I leave my computer equipment and blueprints in the
backseat for the concierge to deliver later.
I take off down the road, enjoying the lush greenery and mountain view
that means home.
“Now, please tell me what this problem is, Ginny. I’m in the cart and
nearly to my bungalow. I’d like to have a bourbon on the rocks unless this
is truly an emergency and cannot wait another day.”
I’m bloody shattered.
“Sir, we have a pirate problem again.”
Screech!
I avoid completely crashing into the thorn bush on the side of the road,
the thick bristles catching my bare arm and making me hiss out as I swerve
around it.
“Shit. Ginny. Goddammit!” I shout.
 “I’m sorry!” she sniffles.
I regain control of the golf cart and take a deep breath as I continue the
rest of the short distance to my villa.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry I shouted at you, darling. Please explain more.” I
didn’t mean to scare the poor girl, but this is just too much for me now. The
lack of ability to do it all is eating away at my resolve. Run the companies.
The islands. It’s making me antsy. Affecting my ability to sleep.
I park on a concrete patch surrounded by white sand and green grass,
climbing out of the small vehicle in haste. I hurry toward the wooden bridge
and power-walk toward my villa. It’s on a smaller pier than the others,
offering more privacy. I still have the opportunity for two neighbors if the
island is full enough, which, come to think of it, it is right now. I usually
only allow family or close friends to stay, as the villas are closer.
“There’s been another attack in Southeast Asia, not on any of our ports
or vessels, but the pirates are definitely targeting some of our trading areas
again, sir. The situation is code red.”
“Shit. Call Gerald; he’ll know which local military to contact. Those
boats need protection. I won’t allow anything to happen to our men. Spare
no expense, Ginny. Private security, military, ex-military, mercenaries,
everyone on tier three.”
“Yes, sir. On it.”
“Keep me updated, Ginny.”
“Will, do.”
She hangs up, knowing I can’t handle lingering chit-chat.
As soon as I enter my home, I head straight for the kitchen. The staff
keeps it stocked with liquor, wine, juice, and water. Dr. Pepper, too, at my
request.
I pour a large bourbon on the rocks and head toward my bedroom. My
large king-sized bed overlooks the ocean, and the back patio is private, with
a hot tub, infinity pool, and a small lounging area. I open the double doors,
and the white linen curtains billow in the breeze. The smell of salt water
and the soothing sound of ocean waves blanket my senses with a feeling of
peaceful calm.
I love it here.
Peace and serenity.
No brats. And no pirates.
 “I told you I don’t need rehab! But no one listened! And now the joke’s
on you! Or more so on Lawrence. Please tell him that I got my choice of
fancy-ass bungalows, and I chose the ultra-exclusive one.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” I mumble, downing the rest of my drink
before pouring another. I’m annoyed and aroused by the idea of this little
shit moving into one of the neighboring bungalows.
Bloody hell, what is happening?
I do not like twenty-one-year-old, impulsive boys with no manners.
I enjoy submission.
And I get the feeling Jett wouldn’t submit too easily.
Although, that might make things interesting.
“I am not on drugs! Okay?! Just so we’re all friggin’ clear here! I don’t
want to see Dr. Weaver or any other therapist. So don’t expect me to. I
already told Briggs, but he never listens, so I’m telling you. Do you hear
me?!”
The more he shouts at the staff, the more I want to punish him. The idea
of bending Jett over my knee has blood instantly rushing to my cock.
“Make sure you inform Lawrence, okay? Hello? Matteo? Are you even
listening to me? I said. . . I. Am. Not. On. Drugs. Make sure you tell Larry,
alright? That uptight prick was trying to electroshock me, swear to God.”
“Your bungalow is right here, Mr. Roman,” Matteo responds evenly.
He’s completely familiar with unruly guests that act like divas. We all are.
“A staff member will bring your bag momentarily. I can show you the
amenities and help you get settled in if you’d like.”
I slip through my own bungalow and walk out the front door, greeting
the two with a tip of the head.
“I’d be happy to show my new neighbor around, Matteo. Why don’t you
go take a short break instead? I can handle things here.”
Matteo looks uncertain. He only knows me as Callum Ryan, an elite,
wealthy guest who lives here nearly year-round. Not Callum Ryan, the
island’s owner.
I glance over at Jett, whose eyes are narrowed on me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks accusatorially.
“I live here,” I answer evenly.
“Oh, fudge this. Matteo, take me to a different bungalow.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Roman. You’re already registered to this bungalow.
Your wristband acts as a key to your villa as well as the different amenities
around the island like—”
“I said I could take it from here,” I interrupt with a cool edge to my
tone. I don’t like to be ignored or disobeyed.
“R-right. Okay. Well, here’s your wristband. Have a good day, Mr.
Roman. Mr. Ryan.” Matteo nods and turns around, scurrying back down the
pier, the wooden planks thunking under his rushed footsteps.
“We are not going to be neighbors. This is a mistake,” Jett insists,
beginning to rush after Matteo.
“Stop,” I say, testing his ability to listen and obey.
He freezes on the spot, not taking another step forward.
“We are going to be neighbors, Jett. You’ve made your bed, and now
you must lie in it.”
I want to add, with me, but I bite my tongue instead.
He turns around and stomps past me to his front door, swiping the
wristband quickly over the sensor. It takes more than half a second to
register, so the lock doesn’t immediately disengage. Jett tries again,
repeatedly swiping the wristband until he growls and throws the bloody
thing into the ocean like a child.
“Stupid fucking island!” he shouts into the horizon, his slender frame
heaving with the effort.
“And where will you go now, pray tell?” I ask, antagonizing him further
because it’s far too easy. “Into the jungle? Maybe you should go to rehab
after all. You have a clear anger issue, at the very least.”
His face turns red, the blush disappearing into his gray tank top. He’s
wearing a hideously flowered, short-sleeve button-up over it. I wonder how
far down the flush goes and whether his cock turns the same color.
I lick my lower lip, enjoying the defiance in his eyes. The challenge he’s
silently issuing.
Whatever it is, I accept.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jett

T his prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

But also, he has a valid point.
Goddammit.
I glance behind me. As Matteo drives off in the golf cart, another one
pulls up. A large man with a shiny bald head wearing khakis rolls my
suitcase toward me.
Good. Another employee. I can ask him.
“Hi, there. . . Um,” I squint my eyes at his name tag, “Graham. I seem
to have misplaced my wristband and can’t get into my bungalow.”
There’s a snort behind me, and I fight the urge to swing my arm around
and smack his chest.
The jerk!
“Already? You just got here,” Graham asks reasonably.
How dare he question me!
“Graham! It’s none of your business, okay? I’m not having the best day.
Now, can you help me out or not?”
“You just arrived in paradise, Mr. Roman. How could you possibly be
having a bad day?” The rudely sexy Englishman asks his rude question
from somewhere behind me.
I spin around in a fury. “Could you not eavesdrop on my conversations
already, neighbor? Gah!”
“I’m just standing on my front porch, minding my own business, Mr.
Roman.”
“Stop calling me that! It’s Jett!”
“Okay, Jett.”
Infuriating!
I turn my glare to Graham. “Look. Can you get me a new wristband or
not?”
“Yes. But it’ll take at least an hour or two. You can follow me back to
the lobby. I’m walking this time.”
I heave a loud sigh, completely exhausted from my commercial flight to
Tahiti, followed by the small, private plane that took me to the Windward
Islands and, more specifically, Black Diamond.
 “Jett can stay with me while he waits. Knock on my door when you
have the wristband ready, Graham.” Cal shakes hands with the bald man,
slipping him what might be a hundred-dollar bill or a few of them. It’s not
even phrased as a question to me or Graham; it’s a statement of fact. Like
it’s going to happen no matter what.
I don’t think so.
“I will not,” I state firmly. No one can tell me what to do. Swear to God.
I plop down on the pier and let my feet dangle over the edge, the
midday sun already scalding my neck while sweat drips down my spine.
But I’m stubborn and persistent. “I will sit right here and wait.”
“You don’t have any sunscreen. You’ll burn up,” Cal states with
annoyance and possibly a hint of concern.
I peer up at him, using my hand to block the sun. “Why do you even
care?”
He sighs deeply. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jett. Stand up and come inside.”
He holds his hand out in offering, and I stare at it. The strong lines, the
rough calluses, the tan skin. . . he looks like he’s spent years working with
them, possibly building. If I could guess, I’d say he likes to get his hands
dirty.
That’s pretty hot.
I’d like to feel those hands on my body.
Without thinking, I drop my guard and place my hand in his. Cal’s long
fingers engulf mine, and he pulls abruptly. I hop to my feet and stumble into
his chest, letting him wrap his arms around me again.
“Callum,” I whisper, liking the sound of his full name on my tongue. I
stare into his dark sunglasses, wanting to see the stormy eyes underneath. I
reach up as if to remove them, but he dodges my touch instead.
“Let’s get inside and out of the heat, Mr. Roman,” he replies cooly,
releasing me and heading into the bungalow next to mine. I would be
lounging in my own space right now if I wasn’t so impulsive.
Sighing internally, I follow him and gaze around the large, open-space
floor plan. The king-sized bed looks out over the water, and the patio doors
are open, white curtains billowing in the breeze. The kitchen is full of fresh
fruits and different snacks. My mouth waters, dying for a drink and a bite to
eat.
As if Cal can read my mind, he strolls toward the kitchen.
 “Your villa will be a replica of this, only differing in decor,” he says
calmly, as if we didn’t just have a moment. Again!
“Thanks. So you are the tour guide, then?” I ask with complete
seriousness.
“You little. . .” he says before quickly collecting himself. And clearing
his throat.
Hah!
Got him. He almost lost his composure.
“Do I call you if I need more towels and a change of sheets? I like to
take a lot of bubble baths. Just warning you ahead of time. I am definitely a
pain-in-the-ass guest. Some even call me a diva. Sucks to be you, dude. Do
you clean toilets too?”
Now I’m just being a jerk, and I know it.
Cal grabs me before I can say I’m joking, making me squeak again, and
friggin’ manhandles me until my back is pressed against the refrigerator, the
cold steel seeping through my shirts and cooling my overheated flesh.
“You need to watch that mouth of yours, Jett Roman,” Cal replies
calmly yet intensely. “Or I’ll show you exactly how I’d punish an insolent
little brat like yourself.”
Oh. My. . . What?
Shit. My dick is getting hard. So fucking hard! Unacceptably hard.
Especially since this man is practically threatening me!
Not okay. Not okay. Not okay.
Swear to God. I am too horny for my own good.
My dick really wants to find out exactly what that statement means.
My mouth is dry, and my tongue is stuck. I can’t talk back.
“I bet you’re very thirsty. So, I’m going to sit you at the island and get
you something to drink.”
Cal slips his arm around me, guiding me to the beige leather barstool.
“Sit.”
I listen, feeling like a man lost in the desert, desperate for a drop of
liquid.
“Now, Jett. Would you prefer water, juice, or soda?”
Cal opens the refrigerator, showcasing a wide variety of options.
I peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth and rasp out, “Dr. Pepper.”
It’s always been my favorite.
 A small smile crosses his stern lips as a bottle of soda is set in front of
me, uncapped, with a plastic straw sticking out of the top. It’s like he knows
my desires before I can voice them myself. It sets me on fire yet puts me on
guard.
I lean forward, gulping down half the bottle as if my hands were tied
behind my back. The carbonation tickles my nose as the sweet flavor bursts
across my taste buds, and I hum my approval.
“Thank you,” I mumble once my stomach is full, the liquid sloshing
around heavily.
“Now, tell me more about yourself.”
Is he serious?
“I’m sure you’ve read it all in the tabloids, Callum.”
“No, Jett. I have not. I disconnect while I live here.”
“I thought you always lived here?” I question, unsure if I heard him
wrong. “How could you always disconnect?”
Is he avoiding something? I shut my mouth and change the topic before
he gets angry again.
“So, do you get the internet out here at least? Netflix?”
I’ll die if there’s nothing to stream on these giant ass TVs. I have
dreams of movies and snacks and naps. All of which involve the doors
thrown wide open and the peaceful sound of waves gently lapping against
the pier.
“We do, yes. Here, on the resort side. However, it’s against your
agreement to take or post photos of other guests or important and
identifiable landmarks. So I’d advise you to log out of all social media
while you’re here, Mr. Roman.”
“Jett,” I correct again.
And no social media?
“I don’t know. . .”
“You have no choice. Be grateful you were awarded a spot here on the
resort side. You would have had no choice but to check into rehab or head
home had there been no space or had I not allowed a neighbor to move in
on my pier. These villas are for family and special guests.”
“Your pier?” I blurt because I never know when to stop.
“Yes, Jett. My pier. Now, would you like something to eat?”
“Um. Uh. Y-yeah,” I stutter. I’ve never had an older guy make me food
before.
 “Any allergies or aversions?” he asks almost clinically. I want so badly
to ask if he’s the resort chef since he’s not in housekeeping or the tour
guide, but I bite my tongue.
“No,” I answer instead, the jetlag starting to hit. I’m really tired and
starting to appreciate the food, drink, and place to rest he’s providing.
“Alright. Well, make yourself at home, which includes taking a shower
if you need it. Towels are under the cabinet.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, really wanting that shower. I unzip my bag and
grab what I need instead of wheeling it through his house and bumping into
his furniture. I slip my boat shoes off and head toward the bathroom,
exhaustion taking over.

“FOOD’S READY, MR. ROMAN,” a deep, sultry voice whispers. “And I

recall saying to make yourself at home, but that doesn’t usually mean
crawling into the host’s bed like an orphaned kitten,” he chastises with a
seductive chuckle.
“Shit! Sorry!” I scramble out of bed, completely disoriented from sleep,
jetlag, and a new location. I trip over the sheets and fall to the glass floor.
The sea creatures below me carry on while I’m sprawled out in my purple
thong, showing my ass.
“I. . .Uh.” I have no excuse for why I crawled into his bed after my
shower. In my underwear. It’s embarrassing.
Humiliating!
Cal squats down before me, slipping his button-up off and wrapping it
around my shoulders.
Bergamot and something woodsy engulfs me. I close my eyes, inhaling
deeply.
“I made chicken marsala and salad. Hope you enjoy lemon vinaigrette.”
He holds his palm out, and once again, I trust him and carefully place
my hand in his.
“I am starving,” I mumble, thinking I can give in just a little. I’m
hungry. If this is like a kidnapping situation, I probably already have
Stockholm Syndrome. It didn’t take long at all. Sigh.
Callum leads me to the kitchen, guiding me toward a barstool.
 I climb up, and he places a full plate in front of me like this is a five-star
dinner, not an island lunch. I don’t question it and dig into the mushroomy
goodness instead.
Cal takes a seat next to me with his own plate. “Graham came by while
you were sleeping and informed me that the new wristband won’t be ready
until late tonight. So it looks like you’re stuck with me for the rest of the
day.”
“Fuck! Really? That seriously sucks balls,” I whine. I’m ready to get
settled into my own place. Unpack. Unwind. And probably get drunk.
Cal tilts his head, eyeing me like some sort of predatory feline.
“Is it really so bad to be here with me?”
“N-no. I didn’t mean—”
“And another thing, Mr. Roman. I don’t appreciate foul language. So
watch your mouth.”
My breath hitches, and my jaw goes slack.
Watch. Your. Mouth.
Three bossy words are all it takes, and my cock weeps with desire,
tenting my underwear and making an embarrassing wet spot.
I quickly wrap his shirt around me, attempting to hide my arousal, but
the smirk on his handsome face says I failed.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t say,” I declare, huffing with
annoyance. “It’s called freedom of speech. It’s an amendment to the U.S.
Constitution and my God-given right!”
Callum laughs at me, and the raspy sound seeps through my skin, settles
into my bones, and blankets me with a prickly caress.
It’s sexy.
It’s powerful.
It’s absolutely infuriating!
How dare he.
“You will learn to listen, Jett,” Callum practically purrs, and dammit, he
needs to stop being so friggin’ hot.
“Excuse me?” I huff, crossing my arms in indignation, even though the
thought of him teaching me anything gets me hornier than ever.
Cal chuckles again, standing up and offering me his hand. I accept,
letting him pull me to my feet but not into his embrace. I slip under his arm
instead and head for the back patio. If I have to stay here, I may as well get
some sun and prove to him that I can do what I want, and I will do what I
want.
Even in his own damn home!
As I step into the bright sunlight, I slip Cal’s oversized shirt off of my
shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I don’t hesitate with my underwear,
either. I hate tan lines, and if he’s just standing there watching, then I guess
he’ll get a show. If I were in my villa, like I’m supposed to be, I would
sunbathe nude. I peer over my shoulder at my neighbor and temporary
roommate.
Cal’s pupils dilate, and there’s a feral glint in his steely gray eyes as he
takes in my bare ass.
It’s a great ass. Never had any complaints.
I strut toward the lounge chairs, putting an extra sway in my hips, and
lie face down on a comfy-looking daybed, tempting him with the curve of
my backside.
“Cal, did you have some sunscreen I could borrow? Don’t want my ass
to burn,” I say innocently. “And who do I need to call for a drink around
here?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Callum

J ett is more combative than I first realized. He’s clearly on edge, and
the delicate little doll is one fall away from shattering.
“Sunscreen, Cal?” he repeats in that demanding and utterly
annoying tone.
I huff at my easy resignation, but I don’t want his beautiful skin to burn.
I lean down and murmur into his ear, “One moment, doll.”
The nickname slips out too easily, but I can’t say I’m sorry about it. I
wander into the bathroom in search of the spray-on sunblock.
I tell myself I’m just being a decent human being by not allowing him
to burn, but I really just want to get my hands on his soft, supple flesh later.
If he’s staying here all day, I may not be able to stop myself.
“Here you are, Mr. Roman,” I say, projecting a coolness I don’t quite
feel. This brash young man has my focus slipping and my mind wandering
when I should be concerned with my business. And pirates.
This is why I don’t do relationships. Other people take time—male or
female—and frankly, I don’t have any extra to spare.
Jett lifts his head, attempting to twist and look at me over his shoulder.
He gives up quickly, flopping his head down and closing his eyes again.
“Umm. Could ya help me out?” he mumbles into the lounge pillow.
“I am not a cabana boy. Let me make that clear, Mr. Roman.”
Muffled laughter filters into my ears, and a small smile tugs at my lips.
He wants to be punished. I know it.
Jett pushes up so that he’s resting on his forearms, and I stare at the
curve of his spine, transfixed by the sensuality of his slim frame.
“Never said you were, Callum.”
“Hmm?” I say on autopilot, hypnotized by his youthful, petite body.
“A cabana boy. I never said you were one.”
My mind focuses back on the task before me.
“Lie down then, Mr. Roman.”
Jett shivers even though it’s a blistering hot day, with only the ocean
breeze to cool us before sunset.
I grab the bottle and perch on the edge of the day bed. I spray a long
line from wrist to shoulder, then down the lean muscles of his back. I stop
before I get to his plump little ass and then continue on from thigh to ankle.
 “I need to rub it in now,” I tell him. “Stay still.”
I start with his wrists, encircling them with my larger hands and rubbing
up, spreading the sunblock and kneading his muscles along the way. When I
get to his shoulders, I squeeze hard, digging my thumbs into the space
between his spine and shoulder blades, dragging them down and eliciting a
slow, sensual groan from him. Once his back is covered, I switch to his
legs, rubbing his calves and moving up his thighs. I massage them with two
hands, releasing some of the obvious tension in his body.
Jett subtly spreads his legs and shifts, likely trying to adjust his arousal.
“Mr. Roman?”
“Hmm?” he replies with a groan, moving again and rubbing himself
against the cushion.
“Stop,” I command, and he listens, halting the gentle rocking of his
hips.
“You are not to rub yourself on my pillow.”
“Sorry! I. . . Ohmygod, I—”
He pushes up on his arms, attempting to scoot away and covering his
heated face.
“Stop,” I repeat, and he freezes once again.
I press my palm to the middle of his back, forcing him to lie down
again.
“Stay still, Mr. Roman,” I chastise. I expect him to listen; however, part
of me hopes he doesn’t.
“I didn’t mean to hump your pillow!” he shouts into the cushion, still
squirming and trying to adjust his erection.
I ignore his meaningless apology. “I need to apply the sunblock to your
backside, Jett. I won’t tell you again. Hold. Still.”
Jett instantly stops squirming, most likely rock hard in anticipation of
what he thinks may happen.
But it won’t. He needs to earn his release.
I rub the oily sunscreen over the soft mound of his ass. The muscle is
firm, yet not too hard. I repeat the process on the other side, ensuring I also
get his hips. I trail my thumb over his crease, and Jett’s breath hitches.
“All done,” I say evenly, even though I’m as worked up as he is.
Jett peers over his shoulder at me, biting his lip and squinting those dark
brown eyes against the sun like he wants to say something.
 “Let me know if you decide to flip over, and I’d be more than happy to
help with your front.” I give him a cocky wink, chuckling at his annoyed
huff as I head inside to wash the coconut smell off my hands.

I LOWER my glasses and rub my tired eyes with one hand. I’m starting to
get a tension headache as I sift through proposal after proposal of new
projects. Some people want my architectural and design skills, some want
my funding, and some want my land.
It’s exhausting, but my short holiday to Tahiti was more than I should
have taken, and now I need to focus on business. Even with the tempting
distraction mere feet away.
Jett slipped his underwear back on and flipped over, applying his own
sunblock before settling back in for even more sunbathing.
I played the welcoming host, just as my mother always taught me, and
made his requested mojito. I also informed him of the different restaurants
and bars around the island, my favorite spot being Midnight Lounge. If I’m
not in my villa, I’m usually there with a bourbon on the rocks.
The sound of bare feet slapping across the tile floor causes my gaze to
dart up and lock onto chocolate eyes and flushed cheeks. My heated stare
travels down his body, appreciating the glow he’s already gotten from a few
hours in the sun. It suits him.
I clear my throat. “Yes, Mr. Roman?”
“It’s Jett,” he replies with a massive eye roll that has me gritting my
teeth against the urge to teach him some manners.
He adjusts the towel around his waist, shifting on his feet
uncomfortably. “I’m hungry,” he mumbles. “Can you take me to eat?” he
adds when I don’t answer right away.
“Are you asking me to dinner, Mr. Roman?”
“I-I. . . What? No!”
“It sounds like you are. Will you be paying too?” I tease, enjoying the
darkening color on his cheeks.
“Uh. I mean, yeah. I can pay.”
“So it’s a date, then?” I ask seriously, although a grin tugs at one side of
my mouth. Jett’s eyes zone in on the movement and narrow.
 “Are you making fun of me?” he asks with a slight vulnerability in his
tone. It tugs at my heartstrings, even with the mean glare he’s giving me.
“I would never, doll. Now, are you taking me to dinner or what? I, too,
am famished.”
“Yes. I am,” he answers more confidently, running his hand through his
sweaty, messy hair.
“I just. . . I need a shower first. Do you mind?”
I wave my hand in the direction of the bathroom, still sitting at my desk
overlooking the ocean. “You’ve already had one, doll. But help yourself
again.”
Jett huffs and stomps past me, causing me to chuckle.
“Towels are under the sink, in case you forgot that too!” I holler,
swiveling around in my chair to catch a glimpse of the middle finger he
throws over his shoulder.
Insolent little shit.
Oh, how I’d enjoy teaching him to be polite. Well-mannered.
Submissive.
My cock stirs to life under the desk at the mere thought of having
control over him in the bedroom. Unable to focus on business any longer, I
close my laptop and slip out of the chair, heading to my closet to change
into a fresh outfit for my date.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Jett finally walks out of the bathroom,

steam billowing behind him.
“Took long enough, doll. Have a wank, did we?” I never tease anyone
quite like this. I don’t have the time. But Jett just pulls it out of me.
He rolls his eyes, cheeks flushed from the sun and the shower. “No, I
didn’t have a bloody wank!” Then he sticks his tongue out at me,
scrunching his face. “Gah! You’re such an annoying neighbor!”
“Me? Annoying?” I stalk toward his towel-clad body. “You are the
stranger in my home, using my shower and my towels.” He backs up, and I
crowd him against a wall. “My bed.”
Jett gulps, peering up at me as I tower over him with one arm pressed to
the wall above his head.
 “And I still wouldn’t ever call you annoying, doll. It’s rude. You need to
learn some respect. Better manners.”
Jett shivers underneath me, his pupils dilating. He’s curious. He wants
to be taught a lesson but doesn’t know what.
“Y-you basically just insinuated I’m annoying, though. Like right now.
I’m not,” he whines. “I don’t want to be here. It was an accident.”
I ignore his ludicrous comment. Throwing his wristband into the depths
of the ocean was no accident. I was there. I steer the subject back to food.
“We could have ordered dinner and had it delivered directly to the villa.
Did you know?”
I step back, releasing him from the cage of my body and the wall.
“No?” I ask innocently at his irritated glare. “Hmm. Well, now you do. But
I appreciate you taking me out to dinner. It’s the least you could do since I
have allowed you to stay in my home while waiting for your replacement
wristband. Such outbursts can be quite inconvenient, can’t they? Lost your
key before you even used it. Shame.”
Jett’s nostrils flare before he closes his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath
and exhaling loudly.
“You know what, Cal? It’s fine. I’m really tired, but it’s totally fine. I
wanted to go out to eat anyway.”
His dark brown eyes open and lock onto mine before skimming down
my body. “You look nice in white linen, Callum. I’m happy to take you to
dinner,” he says smoothly, sounding reasonable for the first time all day.
And dare I say alluring.
“I wanna get drunk. Meet people. That sort of thing. This is my
vacation. I’m ready to friggin’ live it up! Let’s go to Midnight Lounge. The
one you told me about.”
Reckless. Not alluring, just plain reckless.
“Wasn’t this to be your rehab?” I ask with slight concern. I need to
remember to email Ginny for more information on him.
“Swear to God,” he mumbles under his breath. “Not you too! I am not
on drugs. This is ridiculous! I accidentally took molly one time. You sound
just like Briggs, and I don’t like it.” He shudders. “Can we please go now?
I’m starving.”
Whining yet again, but I can’t let this slide.
“First of all, you’re still in a towel—”
 “I was getting dressed!” he shouts, interrupting me before rummaging
through his suitcase with one hand, holding his towel with the other. He
flings articles of clothing everywhere, searching for what he wants to wear,
and I clench my jaw at the mess he’s making.
“Jett!” I shout in a commanding tone.
His head pops up, eyes narrowing.
“What?!” he yells back, and I ignore the tone and volume.
“How does one accidentally take a hallucinogenic drug?” I need to
know if he regularly places himself in risky situations. Whether he truly
needs the help we offer and not just a temporary escape.
I can’t explain the feelings of protectiveness I apparently have for him,
only the annoyance.
I never let relationships linger for too long. A perpetual bachelor, they
call me. Once the one-year mark hits, women usually want some sort of
bigger commitment. And I’ve only ever seen men casually. Hook-ups, I
suppose.
But this new desire to care for and protect someone who isn’t one of my
brothers is unfamiliar territory for me. And for it to be someone so young
and reckless is utterly infuriating.
“It was supposed to be Ritalin.”
He takes a deep breath as if the story exhausts him but also like it
absolves him of all responsibility or guilt. “Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. The
ecstasy made me act wild. Which led me to take more unknown substances.
Blah. Blah. Blah. Look, this isn’t a confessional.” Jett stands up and
punctuates his last words with a hard poke to my chest. “And you’re no
priest, buddy.”
CHAPTER SIX
Jett

W ho the heck does he think he is?

The nerve of this man when I’m taking him out to dinner! He
has no right to judge me. I kneel and continue rifling through my
suitcase, making a mess and flinging my clothes everywhere. I’m sure he
has maids. Whatever.
I grab a pair of fitted, white and lilac floral shorts with a matching short-
sleeve button-up and stomp back to the bathroom to get dressed sans
underwear. It’s too hot and humid, and I’d rather enjoy the ocean breeze on
my nuts. Plus, panty lines are for grandmas.
I leave the shirt open and opt to go without a tank, leaving my chest
bare and showing off the start of what’s sure to be a friggin’ amazing tan.
It’s the Italian in me.
When I step out, fully dressed this time, Cal is leaning against the
credenza table by the front door, arms crossed and waiting. He rolled his
shirt sleeves up to the elbows, and I bite my lip a little too hard. I’m a
complete slut for forearms.
He smirks, clearly understanding the effect he has on me. The effect he
probably has on the entire human species.
“I’m ready for our date. Are you?” I ask rudely, annoyed by the probing
questions from earlier and his sexy-as-sin stance.
Cal straightens up, chuckling cooly. He prowls toward me, reaching out
and brushing the damp strands back from my forehead. “You look lovely,
doll.” His velvety-smooth voice cocoons me, and I melt inside at the
compliment.
Annoying.
“Let’s go,” I snap, and I don’t even know why anymore.
“After you,” Cal says with a sweep of his hand, opening the front door
for me.
I grab the flip-flops from the outside pocket of my suitcase on the way
out. I picked them up at the last minute. They’re rubber and cheap, but I
don’t care. I don’t feel like wearing shoes. I hate being hot, and I hate
sweaty feet.
I hop on one foot by the front door, slipping them on and strutting in
front of Cal. I know I look friggin’ amazing in this little flowery getup.
 “Are you driving?” His dry, bored tone prickles at my confidence, and I
spin around, narrowing my eyes on him.
“Obviously not, Cal.” I roll my eyes, unable to avoid playing right into
his trap.
He chuckles deeply, but I continue down the pier, my flip-flops making
an obnoxious slapping noise while Cal silently lurks behind me.
“Unless they have Uber on Black Diamond!” I turn my head to yell
back at him over my shoulder, not paying attention to where I’m stepping.
My stupid rubber flip-flop, which cost twenty friggin’ dollars at the
airport in Tahiti and probably ninety-nine cents back in the States, gets
caught between the wooden planks.
I lurch forward, preparing for impact, when strong arms wrap around
me instead.
Citrus and cedar envelop me, and the fresh scent somehow reminds me
of the ocean surrounding us. It pulls me under like a riptide threatening to
drown me in my own attraction.
“I’ve got you,” Cal’s deep, sensual voice whispers. His breath tickles
my flesh and hardens my cock.
He doesn’t chastise me for tripping or tell me to watch where I’m going.
Instead, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, guiding us the rest of the
way together. Side by side.
“I’ll drive us. No worries.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, only slightly embarrassed by my near-fall. I can
imagine it now; me tripping, falling, and rolling off the edge of the pier into
the ocean like a beached whale.
Cal hums his approval, and we walk silently the rest of the way to the
golf cart. He releases me as we near, ushering me in front of him. “Your
chariot awaits, Mr. Roman.”
Gah! There he goes again.
“Thank you. Will you feed me grapes, then? Massage my feet? Obey
my every command?”
Cal tips his head back and holds the roof of the golf cart as he laughs
into the sky.
Rude.
Whatever.
“I’m seriously hungry, okay? My stomach hurts.” I easily fold myself
into the golf cart and wrap my arms around my center. The bad memories
are creeping up as my stomach gurgles in protest.
“You okay, doll? It’s all in good fun, yeah?”
When I don’t answer, staring straight ahead with my arms crossed,
Callum takes notice.
“Hey. Jett. Look at me.”
I don’t. I can’t. I’m trying desperately to breathe through this bullshit
before I get worked up.
“Whatever is going through your mind right now, it’s in the past. Just
listen to my voice in the present. You’re here, on holiday, staying at Black
Diamond Resort. You have a dashing neighbor who’s wise beyond his years
and a luxurious bungalow with a brand-new wristband.”
“Never touched another wrist?” I ask between short, uneven breaths.
“No. Never. Now, just relax, doll. I’ll drive us to our date. Don’t worry
about anything. I’ll handle it.”
I take a few more calming breaths before I get the last word.
“Thanks. I’m still paying, though,” I mumble, closing my eyes while
Cal drives us to his favorite spot, Midnight Lounge.

CAL GENTLY CARESSES MY SHOULDER, advising me we’ve arrived,

and I slowly blink my eyes open.
The bar is built partially over the water, just like the villas. It’s
completely open, with a thatched roof made of dried palm fronds. The bar
top is circular in design, with stools dotting it and small tables dispersed
around the rest of the deck.
“I wonder if you can watch the fish below,” I say excitedly. “This is the
coolest island bar I’ve ever seen.”
“The architecture is indeed special. One of a kind, actually. I helped
design it,” Callum replies, a hint of pride in his tone before he immediately
turns the engine off and hops out like he didn’t mean to let that slip.
“You did?” I prod. “That’s really amazing. I love how the bar curves
around the hole in the deck. I can’t wait to eat dinner, get drunk, and watch
the fucking sea life!”
Cal deflects my question with a demand of his own.
“You will not get drunk or out of control here. I am not a chaperone.”
 I huff indignantly. Why does he always have to ruin things with that
rude-as-fuck, British mouth of his? Gah!
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I retort, but goddammit! Why do I
always sound like a kid around him?
“I can and I will while you’re staying in my home.”
“I. . . Wh-what?” I stutter, my brain short-circuiting at the sexy yet
exasperating response before I pull it together.
“You are not my father,” I say sternly.
He chuckles at that. “No, but you’ll obey me better than you ever
obeyed your daddy. Guaranteed, Mr. Roman.”
My breathing picks up, and my stomach bottoms out, sort of like that
time I went bungee jumping right after I turned eighteen. Just because I
could. And because I hate my fucking parents.
“You’re not the boss of me,” I snap back, strutting off to where I assume
the entrance is.
“It’s this way,” Callum whispers into my ear, wrapping his arm around
my shoulder and steering us in the right direction.
“I knew that.”
“Mhmm,” he purrs into my ear, his hot breath tickling me and
muddying my thoughts.
Cal guides us to our seats at a small table in the back, right along the
edge of the deck. When we sit, I peer over the railing. There are sharks,
stingrays, and all sorts of fish! It’s as if they live right here, like puppies
looking for scraps at the dinner table.
“How are they all right here? Just swimming around?” I ask aloud, in
complete wonder. I need to know.
“I can’t tell you. Island secrets.”
I roll my eyes. “And why would you be privy to such information, Mr.
Ryan?” I question, taunting him with what is most likely a really terrible
British accent. “I highly doubt a somewhat young, extremely attractive
gentleman like yourself owns an entire island.”
“Oh really?” he says cockily. “Please, tell me more about what you
think I can and cannot do.”
“Don’t twist my words, Callum!”
“Lower your voice,” Cal hisses, glancing at the bar, and my eyes follow
his gaze. They land on a really attractive, surfer-type guy. He has long
blond hair pulled into a top knot and a flirty smile that I think might be
aimed my way.
“Whatever. Can we just order?”
I don’t wait for a response, taking charge of this date and raising my
hand to let Blondie know we’re ready. His grin widens to a full-blown
smile, and he saunters over.
“Hey, there. Name’s Holden. Can I start you with something to drink?”
He grins at me and winks. His smile doesn’t slip when his eyes catch
Callum’s.
“Mojito,” I answer. “Extra ’jito, please.”
“Uh. Yeah. Sure. Extra ’jito,” Holden says, confusion crossing his
features.
“Thanks. And whatever my friend here wants.” I sound like a jerk, and I
am winning.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” Cal answers dryly.
“I’m starving, so I’d like to order, too. What would you recommend,
Holden?”
“Oh. Hmm.” Holden chews on his lip, looking purposefully thoughtful
before declaring that anything with the shrimp is so good.
I swear to God, he moaned as he said it.
“Okay, I’ll have the shrimp pasta, please,” I say, handing him my menu
as Cal places his order.
“I’ll have the conch salad.”
Huh?
“Cock salad? What the fuck is that?!”
Holden chuckles. “You don’t really wanna know. Better off just thinking
it’s cock.” Then he slips behind the bar to place our orders.
“What did you order?” I question, brows creasing in confusion,
wondering what’s so funny about Cal’s dinner.
“It’s a type of sea snail. Not particularly appetizing in its natural state.
Although I can’t imagine any food truly is.”
I shudder but totally respect his reasoning and decide not to think about
it.
I sip my mojito and nod sagely, peering into the clear water and
watching the sea creatures swim around, living their best life completely
unbothered and happy.
“You enjoying yourself, doll?”
 “Hmm? Oh. Yep. It’s a nice date, huh?” I ask proudly.
“Indeed,” he agrees in his velvety smooth voice, a secret smile on his
lips.
After my third drink and chocolate cake for dessert, I ask for the check.
“Oh. Uh. Black Diamond’s all-inclusive, little dude,” Holden replies,
“But we accept tips.”
I swing my head around to my date.
“You liar,” I accuse.
“Me? A liar?” Cal says with a patronizing laugh.
“I told you I was taking you out to dinner, and you let me believe I was
going to be paying!” I huff in annoyance.
Holden slinks back to the bar, probably uncomfortable with what’s
happening. Two strangers arguing over who’s going to pay for dinner at the
all-inclusive resort they’re staying at. It makes no sense.
“You knew this whole time that I wouldn’t be able to pay! Is this all
some kind of joke to you, Cal?” I chug the rest of my mojito before he
snatches the glass from my hands.
“Enough,” he growls.
Whatever. It’s just a bunch of mint leaves and ice now.
“Earlier, you told that asshole Larry my life isn’t a joke. Yet here you
are, making a joke out of me wanting to take you to dinner,” I accuse. I
can’t help the hurt lacing my tone.
Holden glances at me from the bar as he pretends to wipe glasses. His
eyes are sympathetic, and it only makes my mood drop more.
“I just wanted to express my appreciation for letting me have
somewhere to stay today. I’ll get out of your way now if you could just do
me one last favor and drive me home.”
I dig my wallet out of my tiny shorts. “I can at least tip.”
Cal slaps a hundred-dollar bill down on the table. “I’ve got it covered,
doll. Cash only. Thank you for a lovely date, though. Truly.”
I put my credit card back and growl out loud, pushing away from the
wooden table and storming out toward I don’t know where. I still need Cal
to drive me home.
Before I even make it to the sand, someone shouts at me.
“Mr. Roman!” I spin on my heel to find the man with the shiny bald
head, Greg, I think it was, running toward me with a little black circle
flapping in his hand.
 “I have your wristband. You can enter the villa now and get settled, Mr.
Roman. Your manager called the front desk again, and I informed him you
were not yet in your room and would call him later.”
“Thank you, Graham.” Cal slips him even more money, and my nostrils
flare. If I would have known about this, I’d have brought cash. They better
have an ATM in the lobby. And a gift shop. I need souvenirs.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Callum

“Y es. Thank you, Graham,” Jett echoes in a slightly accusatory and

utterly obnoxious tone. He snatches the wristband ungratefully
and stomps away.
I grit my teeth, embarrassed by this boy when I have no need to be.
He is not mine.
“Callum! Please take me home!” he shouts over his shoulder.
His rudeness again has me visualizing bending him over my lap while I
spank his ill-mannered arse. And I’m worried it’ll only get worse—his bad
attitude and my deviant desires.
I catch up to him just before the deck turns to sand, grabbing his elbow
and forcing him to a halt.
He spins around fiercely. “What, liar? What do you want now?”
I take a deep breath, sighing at his volatility.
“It doesn’t matter who drove, who paid, or even who tipped, doll. You
asked me out to dinner, and I accepted. I haven’t had anyone ask me in a
long while. It’s refreshing. Pardon me if my teasing pushed you over the
edge.”
“I am not over the edge!” he shouts, clearly having already fallen off.
“But thank you. That does make me feel a little better. Can we go home
now?”
His vulnerable tone catches me off guard. The idea of us going home
together makes my stomach flutter, and I’m not sure whether I’ve ever felt
that. It makes me question if the conch was off.
“Of course. After you.”
Jett slips past me and takes the steps a little too quickly in his ridiculous
rubber sandals. I reach out, anticipating the catastrophe before it happens.
He doesn’t disappoint. But before he can twist his ankle and fall into the
hot sand, I wrap one arm around him, snatching him up and holding him
against my chest.
Oof.
The sexy little noise he makes as the air is forced out of his lungs has
me imagining dirty things. My cock hardens slightly, and I know he feels it
pressing into his ass.
 Jett’s soft moan has my stomach twisting again, and now I know it’s not
the conch.
It’s my attraction to him. He’s a temptation, and that’s dangerous
because it’s also a distraction, and I can’t afford any.
“Maybe you shouldn’t wear those ridiculous flip-flops if they make you
so accident-prone, hmm?” I chase away the lust with a prickly statement
sure to ruffle his feathers.
Jett huffs, pulling out of my arms and spinning around, making more of
a scene. “I don’t need you telling me what friggin’ shoes to wear, Cal!”
“It was just a suggestion, doll. For your own safety.”
He gives me a massive eye roll before twirling back around and
strutting his flower-covered arse to the golf cart.
“I’m ready to use my new wristband and go to bed. It’s been an
exhausting couple of days.”
“I’m sure it has been. From what you’ve told me, you’ve been quite
busy.” I can’t seem to stop myself from pushing his buttons.
Jett side-eyes me, folding his arms across his chest and completely
ignoring the snarky comment. “I hope they have nice bath bombs. I need
bubbles. And wine.”
“You can call the concierge and make requests anytime. Day or night.
But I’m not so sure you should be drinking in the bath when you’re this
tired.” Knowing his penchant for mishaps, he’s more likely to drown.
“I’ll be fine, Cal. I’m not your responsibility. You don’t need to worry
about me. This is my vacation, and I’m here to relax.”
“Do I need to remind you to call your manager once you get settled?”
“Yeah. Sure,” he mumbles, and I glance over at him. Jett’s eyes are
closed, and his head rests against the seat.
I sigh, figuring I’ll need to remind him again and wondering why I’m
having such thoughts in the first place. He was right a moment ago.
Jett Roman is not my responsibility.

I PARK THE GOLF CART, but Jett doesn’t stir one bit, so I let him sleep.
This island is the perfect place for him to slow down and relax if he’ll allow
himself to. I know his type—the young actor, always go-go-go, taking any
drug to stay up and focus, to learn their lines, or even to party and network.
He claims the drugs were an accident, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s
something else lurking under the surface, causing him to constantly lash
out. A hidden pain he’s not dealing with properly. We all have them, and I
get the sense that the stressors in his life are coming to a head. The pressure
is building, and something will need to be done before he blows. I’m not
convinced mere relaxation will be enough for him.
Dr. Otahi is an amazing therapist and a dear friend of mine. I’m sure
he’s already heard about the brash young man who threw a tantrum upon
arrival, refusing rehab in one of the most dramatic shows of resistance I
have personally borne witness to. I can only hope Jett will warm up to the
idea of speaking with him once they meet. And if not, there are plenty more
ways he can get help while at Black Diamond. Although I highly doubt
he’ll be open to group therapy and team-building activities. Jett doesn’t
seem like a hiker, certainly not with those dreadful flip-flops.
I climb out of the golf cart, walk around, and lean in to scoop him up,
bridal style. Jett stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent before
nuzzling his face into my chest and sighing contentedly.
It won’t be hard to carry his small body down the pier. I think I rather
like him in my arms and under my protection.
The ocean laps at the pier as we walk toward the small row of private
villas.
I slip his wristband off, holding it to the sensor until the light turns
green. I walk straight toward the bedroom, setting him gently on top of the
soft, down comforter where he curls into a little ball.
“I wanted a bubble bath,” Jett mumbles, half asleep.
“In the morning, doll. You’re shattered and need sleep.”
“M’kay. Thank you, Cal. For taking care of me today.”
“Mhmm,” I hum my acknowledgment, sliding his sandals off and
pulling back one side of the bedding.
As I shift his body onto the sheets, effectively tucking him in, I can’t
help but notice how tight and unforgiving his button-up is. I know I can’t
sleep well in structured clothes. I prefer the nude or, at most, boxers.
Sighing at my own unexplainable behavior, I roll Jett onto his back and
slowly unbutton his flowery purple top. My fingers graze soft, supple flesh
as I part the shirt, and his belly hollows out at my touch. His eyes partially
open, and the dark, half-lidded stare has me pausing.
 “You looked uncomfortable in it,” I say, trying to explain myself.
“Thanks,” he rasps with a sleep-heavy voice, then pulls the comforter
up to his neck and squirms under the covers for a moment. His arm sticks
out, and flowery purple shorts hit the floor before he curls in on himself,
mumbling, “Good night, Cal.”
His soft snores alert me that I’m still standing here, watching the boy
sleep, for Christ’s sake!
I exit his villa and head toward my own, shaking my head, confused
why my thoughts won’t stray far from the infuriating young man sleeping
next door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jett

I wake to the soothing sounds of ocean waves and the peaceful melodies
of tropical birds. I yawn and stretch, enjoying the ability to sleep in and
wake when I want to. I never get enough hours, and I think I might
actually be well-rested for once. It’s a foreign feeling.
I remember last night. I wasn’t drunk. Just tipsy and exhausted. And
Callum is a gentleman, so although I’m naked in bed this morning, I know
nothing untoward happened.
I grab a pair of tiny green swim trunks and head to the bathroom to
change and do my business.
I know Cal said I can order food to the villa, but I need to call Briggs
before he does something drastic like show up and drag me to the other side
of the island. To rehab.
I grab a cold water bottle, chugging half before heading out into the
blistering morning sun.
I reluctantly click Briggs’ name on my screen, finally calling my
overbearing manager to let him know I’m still alive.
He doesn’t even say hello. No greeting. Straight to business like always.
“About damn time, Jett! Where the hell have you been that you couldn’t
even call to let me know what’s going on?”
He only cares because I’m his meal ticket, but it’s more than I can say
for my parents.
“There was a problem with my wristband.” It’s not a lie, even if that
problem was caused by me. “I couldn’t get into my villa until late last night,
and I just sort of passed out.”
“Passed out?” He huffs in that cynical, jaded way of his. “I’m sure you
did. Was it alcohol, or did you already find drugs on the island, Jett?”
“I wasn’t drunk or on drugs, Briggs!”
“You realize you just told me the same fucking thing two days ago,
don’t you?!” he yells at me, raising his voice through the phone. I hold it
away from my ear and put him on speaker instead. “I am so sick of your
shit, Jett. You’re wasting everyone’s time and losing money we could be
making if you would have just stayed sober.”
The greedy bastard always wants more than his contracted percentage
and the massive bonuses my accountant sends him for any deals he brokers.
He probably makes more than I do.
“Whatever, Briggs. I won’t keep trying to explain what happened at
Lotus Lounge. Yeah, I sorta fucked up. But let’s not gloss over the fact that
you lied and sent me to rehab against my will!”
“You didn’t just ‘sorta fuck up,’ Jett. You lost us an entire movie trilogy.
You realize that, right? The new Resilience saga is gonna be worth millions,
and Zander just booked a role in all three films. Congrat-u-fucking-lations
to him and his prick of a manager, Yates.”
Jesus, he’s salty and bitter and all the nasty flavors one can imagine.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and glance over. My eyes
lock onto Cal’s stare from next door.
Shit.
He’s sitting on his deck, sipping what appears to be a cappuccino and
lounging in nothing but tiny black shorts. Or maybe it’s his underwear. On
the table before him is a beautiful, lush breakfast spread. I can almost smell
it from over here.
My tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth. I’m hungry for breakfast,
and I’m hungry for him. He is so friggin’ sexy with his smattering of chest
hair, defined abs, and those sexy-as-ever obliques.
God, do I want an older man to show me exactly how to take his—
“Jett! Are you even listening to me?! I swear to all that is holy, you’re a
fucking invalid! I’m finally starting to believe everything your mother tells
me.”
I wince at his words, never taking my eyes off Cal’s.
“And I’m a hair’s breadth away from dumping you, kid. Call me when
you’re ready to listen.”
The phone clicks off, and I drop my arm and my gaze, sighing in defeat.
I run my hand through my dark hair, messing up the already tousled strands.
“Jett. There’s plenty of food here. Why don’t you come over.”
It’s not really a question, more of an order, and his deep voice carries on
the wind, finding its way over to me.
I wave, slipping inside my bungalow and into the flip-flops I know he
hates.
I’ll call Lucy and Zander later. One shitty phone conversation is enough
for now. I need to gather my thoughts and fill my stomach.
I knock on Cal’s door and wait, but not for long. He answers swiftly,
holding it wide. He looks even better up close. His confidence and swagger
are major turn-ons. As I follow him in, I realize I feel more at home here
than in my actual villa. Maybe it’s because I spent so much time here
yesterday. Or maybe it’s because of the camaraderie my new neighbor has
offered. I’m alone on this island, and it’s nice to have someone nearby that I
feel like I can trust. Despite how he gets under my skin.
He’s a good guy. It’s obvious.
“Good morning, doll. You okay?” he asks with that addictively smooth
accent, reaching out to trace his fingers along my hairline and caress my
jaw.
“Yeah. Fine. My manager is a complete dick. But that’s nothing new.”
“Hmm,” is all he says, and I hate that it makes me feel insecure.
“I don’t mean to be a negative Nancy. Sorry. Good morning, neighbor.
Hope you slept well.” I’ll admit the words are hollow as I follow him into
his home and toward the back deck.
The breakfast spread looks even more delicious than I imagined.
“Can I order something like this too? For free?” There are plates of
scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, and toast, along with bowls of yogurt
and different toppings like granola, strawberries, and raspberries.
He chuckles. “Well, not exactly free. But yes, it is included. Whatever
you want to eat or drink, any time of day.”
I sit at the table, and Cal sits across from me. The ocean breeze cuts
through the thick heat permeating the air as the sun blazes down on us.
“Eggs?” he asks, holding a spoonful of creamy, cheesy eggs.
I nod, and Cal serves me amazing scrambled eggs, golden potatoes,
crisp bacon, and perfectly browned toast. I crunch into a piece and moan as
the rich butter coats my taste buds.
“How can toast taste so good? Doesn’t make sense,” I mumble around a
mouthful, crumbs falling out.
I shove a bite of eggs and a whole piece of bacon into my mouth next.
“So friggin’ good,” I say, talking with my mouth full yet again.
“Chew with your mouth closed, please. I’m glad you’re enjoying the
food, but that’s quite impolite.”
I snap my mouth closed so fast, fighting the urge to say sorry and speak
with a mouth full of food once again.
I finish chewing and swallow the lump of food, pushing my plate away
and feeling embarrassed. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I even
have it for dinner a lot. But I’ll admit I’ve always had a strained relationship
with food. Not that he knows that.
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t say stop eating. Clear your plate.”
My eyes snap up, and he tips his sunglasses down his nose, peering over
the rims.
“Clear your plate, doll,” he repeats, and the command goes straight to
my cock, causing it to thicken in my tiny green trunks.
I don’t answer. He’s got me flustered just like he wants. Instead, I pull
my plate toward myself and dig in. Silently eating and enjoying this
delicious meal.
I sit back when I’m done, cradling my stomach and meeting his stare
through those dark lenses.
“Good,” he says evenly. That’s it. That’s all.
But my brain hears good boy instead, and my cock rises to attention,
taking notice and liking the sound of it.
I chew on my bottom lip, continuing to just stare.
“Did you put sunblock on this time?” he asks out of the blue, pulling me
from my lust-fueled daze.
“Oh. Uh. No, I didn’t.” I run my hand through my dark locks, feeling
antsy. And horny.
“Tsk. Tsk. And you said you can take care of yourself? Go into my
bathroom and grab the bottle on the counter.”
I really do need sunscreen, so I damn near roll out of my chair, feeling
like a beached whale again.
“Oh, God. I’m so full,” I whine, unable to hold it in. I hold my stomach
and try to hide my erection as I wobble toward the bathroom.
Cal chuckles in that sexy way of his, which does not help the situation.
At all.
I rush into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I see the bottle of
sunscreen on the counter but decide to be a little nosey. You can learn a lot
about a person just by looking in a few drawers. Especially in the bathroom.
I quietly open one, rummaging through his personal things. I find the usual
—a hair dryer, comb, deodorant, and many, many lotions. I guess you need
a lot of expensive creams at thirty-eight.
I slide open the very last drawer and jackpot! Two boxes of magnum
condoms and an extra large bottle of lube.
 Weed lube.
Dear Lord. I don’t know what that is, but I one hundred thousand
percent know that me and my asshole are friggin’ here for it.
I pray again that I get to find out what it feels like, courtesy of my sexy
new neighbor.
I return to the breakfast table with the bottle of sunblock and completely
ignore what I just found while snooping in his bathroom drawers.
“I can do it myself,” I say, twisting the top open. Cal stands up and
takes it from my grasp gently.
“The sun is brutal out here in the Pacific, doll. Let me. I’ll make sure to
cover you thoroughly.”
It’s not even a question.
“Okay.”
He begins to spray the sunblock on my chest and rub it in, just like he
did yesterday when I was face down and nude. At least I have shorts on
now.
Cal kneels down before me, spraying the sunblock and rubbing my legs.
Oh, holy hell, please don’t get a boner in his face. Please don’t get a boner
in his face.
His big, rough hands wrap around my thigh and grip tightly. He
massages my muscles again, going higher and higher.
He repeats this on the other leg, and by then, I’ve thought of every
repulsive thing I can imagine just to stop my semi from turning into a rager.
It works. Barely.
“All done,” Cal says casually, ignoring the slight bulge in my tiny swim
trunks as he stands up.
“You’re good to go. What are your plans for the day?”
“Oh. Um. Not sure. What are yours?”
His lip twitches. “I have some phone calls to make, meetings to attend
—virtually, of course. Rather boring stuff, actually. None of it has to do
with what I really enjoy. Today there will be problems, issues, decisions.
Dreadful day, to be honest.”
“I like when you’re honest,” I say without thinking.
“I like when you are as well,” he says, reaching out to trace from the
side of my cheek to my chin, where he lifts it, forcing me to gaze into his
dark lenses.
“Keep yourself open for me.”
 My mind goes to really, really inappropriate places for how sincere he’s
being right now, but holy fucking shit, will I open myself up for him. And
his cock.
“I’ll try,” I murmur into him, my head tilted back as he leans over me,
inches away from my lips.
“Good.”
There it is again, and there my friggin’ brain goes, insisting that he just
said good boy.
My cock comes to life, growing for the millionth fucking time today.
I’ll need to jerk off pretty soon, or I’ll have blue balls for the rest of eternity.
Cal’s phone starts ringing with what sounds like a video call. He walks
back to the table and frowns at it, glancing back up at me.
“You can see yourself out if you’re finished,” he says coldly.
Like a bucket of ice water is dumped over me, my boner deflates. How
the hell is he so hot and cold? It’s giving me whiplash.
Whatever.
“Okay. Sure. Fine. See ya.” I turn around and head straight for the door,
acting unbothered, even though his next words have me doubting our vibe.
“Rory. How are you, mate?”
Who’s Rory?
“Thanks for the breakfast and sunscreen rubdown, neighbor!” I shout
loud enough that this Rory person can hopefully hear me.
I stomp over to my villa, feeling petty.
“Rory. What kinda name is Rory, anyway?” I mumble to myself,
jealousy rearing its ugly head. I cross through the living space, open the
patio doors, and let the white linen curtains billow in the ocean breeze.
I close my eyes, trying to rein it in. I take a deep breath before opening
my eyes and glancing to the side. Cal is working on his laptop, his view
overlooking the turquoise waters as he speaks urgently with Rory.
It’s fine. I bet I can grab his attention. I strut to the lounge chair farthest
away and grab the back, dragging it across the wooden planks and causing a
loud screeching noise. I continue pulling it across the deck, feeling his eyes
on me the entire way but not stopping until I get to the edge. Lucky for me,
or maybe not, this villa is on a smaller pier than the rest. For family and
loved ones, Cal said.
Maybe for Rory.
Whatever.
 I’m here now. Not Rory.
I glance up, checking that Cal’s gaze is still on me. It is.
I pull my tiny swim trunks down and step out of them, bending all the
way down to grab them from the floor and fold them nicely. I don’t turn
around, only giving him a view of my ass. I know a man like him is
tempted by an ass like mine. It’s simple biology.
The ocean waves crashing against the support beams under the villa are
too loud to hear any of his conversation.
I lay on my front again. I’ve always been a stomach sleeper.
“Doll, if you’re going to sunbathe in the nude, you need to plan ahead
and cover all areas,” Cal raises his voice enough to carry over the myriad of
sounds around me.
“Is there a reason you’re so concerned about my ass, Cal?” I shout,
unable to stop myself.
“Suit yourself, Mr. Roman. I won’t continue to baby you past your
second day here. It’s not hard to learn how important skincare is.”
I huff, even though he can’t hear it.
“Back to friggin’ Mr. Roman,” I mumble.
“What was that? Sorry. Couldn’t hear you. Speak up if you’ve got
something to say, Jett.”
“Who’s Rory?” I shout across the water, already fed up with my curious
mind. I just need to know.
His smile looks like he has an inside joke and really is laughing at me. I
don’t like it.
He disappears into his bungalow, and I push to my forearms, staring
into my room. Sure enough, Cal walks through my front door a minute later
and confidently approaches me.
“Are you jealous, doll?”
When I don’t answer, he takes mercy on me.
“Rory is my old buddy from uni. If you’re concerned I’m seeing
someone, don’t worry. I have no time for relationships.”
My stomach drops at his casual statement, and I’m not even sure why. I
don’t want a relationship, either.
“I wasn’t. At all.”
“Mhmm,” is all he says, and it’s so aggravating!
“I wasn’t!”
 He ignores my outburst, and I lay my head back down on the lounger,
my bare ass on display for him.
“I’m sure you have those same types of friends from school that you’d
do anything for.”
“No, actually. Not everyone went to college, Cal,” I say spitefully,
having longed for a normal university experience full of frat parties and keg
stands. Instead, I got pressured to book more roles, stay thin, and get in just
enough trouble to stay relevant but not enough to be sent to rehab. Case in
point.
“I’m sure you went to friggin’ Oxford or something.” I can’t help but
roll my eyes in frustration. He’s the epitome of a wealthy, educated
Englishman. The young, sexy bachelor kind.
“Cambridge, actually, doll.”
“Whatever. I didn’t go to college, you did. Congrats on your fancy-ass
degree. When did you graduate, 1992?”
I’m being a jerk. I know he’s not that old.
“I’d watch that cheeky mouth of yours considering your arse is so
exposed right now, Mr. Roman.”
I swallow thickly at the sexy threat. I almost want to find out what
exactly he means.
“What do you want, Cal?” I ask, suddenly tired and defeated, even
though it’s only morning.
“I just wanted to finish the conversation we started instead of continuing
to shout across the ocean. Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “Well, I’m not jealous. Just nosey. So don’t flatter
yourself, Cal.” I lie straight to his face, turning my head away and facing
the ocean. I squeeze my eyes shut as the bright, tropical sun reflects off the
water and nearly blinds me.
“Hmm.”
His simple humming noise, when used appropriately, is the most
annoying response known to mankind.
A cool spray of liquid hits my bare ass, and I gasp before realizing it’s
Cal’s fucking sunblock. He rubs it in quickly, then steps back.
“Well, I’ve got business to attend to. But I’ll be at Midnight Lounge
again later. At the bar. Nine p.m., if you’re interested.”
“I’m not,” I say immediately, in defiance. A complete lie, and we both
know it.
 “I’ll see you later, doll.”
“You won’t!” I lift my head to holler at his retreating figure.
When Cal is gone, I relax. It’s peaceful and completely stress-free at my
villa. But it also doesn’t feel quite like home.
Maybe I’ll stop by the bar and start to day drink.
Whatever.
It’s my vacation, after all.

HOLDEN’S AT THE BAR, where he always seems to be when I plop

down, ordering my drinks before even saying hello. “Three shots of
whatever, please,”
“Good afternoon to you too, Jett. Another tricky ass drink request, I see.
I’m fresh outta whatever, please. How ’bout vodka?”
I roll my eyes, not in the mood for his jokes right now. “Vodka works.”
Holden eyes me like he doesn’t know how to take the agreeableness, but
leaves to make my shots, coming back shortly after and setting them down
without spilling.
“Hey. I have a break in ten minutes if you wanna take a walk on the
beach or something. Talk, maybe?” Holden asks.
I eye him suspiciously. “As friends,” he adds. “I can listen. You seem
like you need to talk. Or maybe not. Sometimes just walking along the
shore helps to clear your mind.”
Instead of ordering a mixed drink, I take him up on his offer and down
another shot. Holden finishes his bar duties and comes back shortly after.
“I’ll introduce you around. Polly and Atlas work here as well. Have you
met them?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, a bunch of us do this thing where we sit around and smoke a ton
of weed. Naked. We just lay it all out for Mother Nature to ogle. It’s called
nude night. I named it,” he says proudly.
“That sounds interesting.”
“You should come. The more, the merrier.”
I’m completely comfortable being naked, but this sounds a little
sketchy. “And you’re all just naked? And work together?”
 “Yeah. A lot of us have hooked up too.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal
to fuck your co-workers.
“I’ll think about it on our walk. I’m ready if you are.”
“Let’s do it,” Holden says smoothly, tossing his bar rag on the counter
and heading for the back.
“Oh! Just one thing. Do you think I could get a mojito in a to-go cup?”
Holden tilts his head back and laughs. “Just wait for the coconut bong.
I’m telling you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Callum

I rush through my work; I can’t help it. It’s so unlike me and messy. I’ve
always been a perfectionist.
My lines are uneven despite the brand-new compass and protractor
in my hands. I might have to get on my laptop and use the custom design
software I rebuilt last year, even though I prefer drafting the old-fashioned
way. There’s nothing like sitting at the drawing board, getting my hands
dirty, surrounded by fifty erasers and mounds of pencil shavings until I get
it just right.
I’ve been working for hours. I canceled half my meetings to focus on
my newest proposal, but my sketches are utterly horrendous. I roll up my
blueprints, slip them into the large tube, and cap it, sticking it under the
table. This customer deserves better than what I’m coming up with now.
I need to gather my energy and complete this job regardless of how
much a certain obnoxious American distracts me.
My client is a media mogul turned restaurateur, and the job is his newest
conveyor belt sushi restaurant right on the water in Tokyo. Mr. Hinata is
paying a small fortune for a Callum Ryan original, all of which I plan to
invest in Black Diamond. This place isn’t just a business to me; it’s my
home. I want to further develop the island while maintaining the natural
beauty of the land. I also want to support the recovery center and mental
health facilities and better help those in need.
The rich and famous don’t usually want help; they often want to avoid
it. It’s easier for them to think of rehab as a vacation, but Black Diamond
has some of the best doctors and therapists worldwide. I hope Jett comes to
understand that. I plan to convince him to join at least one Focus, the
scheduled activities and outings used to build teamwork, trust, and manage
anger.
It’d be good for him.
I can’t understand my need to care for and look out for Jett, but it’s
proven difficult to stop. I hardly have time for such hindrances in my life,
yet here I am, hoping he’ll get some help while here. My mum always tells
me I have a hero complex, and maybe she’s right because I do continue to
support this place, after all.
 My eyes dart to the clock on the wall, ready to head to Midnight
Lounge. I don’t usually go out this much, preferring to cook freshly caught
seafood in my kitchen or order room service. But here I am, two nights in a
row, heading to the most populated bar on the island, hoping the boy
follows.
Ridiculous. I know.
I spend the next forty-five minutes showering, shaving, and getting
ready for dinner. I haven’t the slightest clue whether he’ll show, but I truly
hope he does.

WHEN I STEP into Midnight Lounge, I head for the bar and sit on the far
end so no one bothers me. I order a bourbon on the rocks and let the surfer
boy know I’m not interested in conversation.
I swivel in my seat and watch the crowd. There aren’t too many people
here now. A few women make eyes at me, but I never cross the line and
sleep with guests. Not that there are any rules against such things. I’m
technically considered a resort guest, but I prefer not to.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I grab it. “Ryan,” I say, answering
with my last name because I don’t look at who’s calling.
The high-pitched tone of my enthusiastic assistant scratches at my
eardrums. She’s excited.
“Ginny. No more design jobs, please. I need a break.”
“But this is an aquarium. In Tahiti. A massive one. They want a one-of-
a-kind tank, including tunnels and a modern island design. And they’ll pay
anything for Callum Ryan.”
I sigh. It really does sound intriguing. I turn around and face the bar for
more privacy. “You know I don’t need any money. And none of my
businesses or investments are hurting, Ginny. Even if it would simply be for
fun, I think I just need a breather.”
I know what she’s thinking. I just took an unplanned holiday to Tahiti,
and I’m far too busy for another detour. No matter how badly I want to drop
off the radar for the entire two weeks that Jett is here, enjoying his tight
little body every day.
“And for your ego, Cal. This would be huge for Callum Ryan Designs.”
 She really knows how to reel me in. “And what’s the deadline?”
“Now we’re talking!” Ginny shouts. “I’ll email you the details.” She
hangs up before I can even protest.
I rub my forehead and take a deep breath. I was supposed to be stepping
back from unnecessary work, but I know that I won't be able to say no once
I lay eyes on the project details.
Someone sits next to me, bumping my arm, and I’m about to tell them
to bugger off when I open my eyes and find Jett there, looking slightly
worse for wear.
“Hey, Cal.”
“Hey, doll. You okay?”
Jett turns a glassy-eyed stare at me. “No. I’m not. How’re you?”
He waves a hand in the air, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
For Christ’s sake, he’s drunk again. He’s not my responsibility, although
it quite feels like it.
“I’m doing well. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” I say,
indulging him.
He ignores me, letting his irritation get the best of him. “God, I hate this
island and it’s shitty service.”
Jett leans over the bar and grabs the first bottle of liquor he can find, not
even looking at what it is. The shot glasses are lined up, and he grabs three
before messily pouring his shots and setting the bottle down roughly.
I’m a silent observer, not wanting to step in until he gets out of hand. I
am not his keeper, no matter how much he clearly needs one.
“Cheers to whoever owns this stupid island! I hate him!” Jett tips his
head back, downing what I smell is tequila in one go.
The irony of the situation is too absurd not to let him continue.
“Yuck!” Jett coughs and wipes his mouth on his shoulder, shuddering at
what most likely is a nasty aftertaste with no chaser.
“Stupid island owner,” he repeats, and I clench my jaw at his
unknowing disrespect of me. “He probably hasn’t had an erection in a
decade. God, it would suck to be so old you can’t get it up anymore. Fuck
me,” he complains, tipping back another shot. One too many shots. The
little brat is making me want to put him over my knee.
“Old wrinkly balls on your chin while you try to blow a flaccid cock?
Can you imagine?”
 Another shot. The last one. I have to squeeze my fists to keep from
snatching it away.
“Jesus Christ. No, thank you. Not even for the chance to say I choked
on the mystery island owner’s dick.” His mouth is magnified when he
drinks, outrageously so. Another reason he has no business doing such
things. He clearly needs to be here if he would stop being so resistant.
“You’ve got no idea who owns this place, doll. You’re making
unnecessary assumptions.”
Jett ignores me, yelling down the bar instead. “Holden! Hello? Can I get
a fuzzy navel, please?” Jett shouts somewhat rudely while Holden takes the
order of another patron. He ignores Jett, rightfully so.
“Hey!” Jett yells again, and I curl an arm around his shoulder and slip
my hand over his lips.
“Watch your mouth,” I hiss directly into his ear. “As I’ve said before,
doll. If you’re sitting next to me, you will behave with manners and
respect.”
I remove my hand before Holden finishes and turns our way.
“We’re friends. I’m not being rude.”
“Friends?” I lower my arm to Jett’s shoulder, squeezing before trailing
delicate fingers down his back and making him shiver. He’s wearing
another flowery shirt and matching shorts. He looks particularly edible with
his tan skin and wet hair combed back.
“Yep. Invited me to nude night. With Atlas and Polly too. They have
coconut bongs.”
“You will not.”
Jett turns half-lidded eyes toward me. “I can if I want.”
“You already seem quite inebriated by the looks of it.”
“Well, then quit lookin’, Cal!”
He waves Holden down finally, ordering a ridiculous-sounding drink.
“Can I get a fuzzy navel? Please?” he adds, but it has a little snark, and
I squeeze his hip in warning. He side-eyes me and smiles sweetly at the
attractive blond bartender.
“I am not a fan of navels, but I am a fan of dicks. I can make you a
drink and stick an umbrella in it, but I can’t make it fuzzy.”
Jett laughs, his face softening from the scowl he wore when he first
showed up, and it irks me that this man is the one to make him laugh and
smile within five seconds.
 “Okay, well, do you have peach schnapps and orange juice?” Jett taps
his finger against his plush lips. Kissable lips.
“Sure do,” Holden replies confidently.
“Mix them together equally, and that’s it. A fuzzy navel. I’ll take the
umbrella, too.”
Are they flirting?
I cannot wait for the moment he allows me to show him who’s in
charge.
“I’ll take three tequila shots as well.”
Holden eyes the mess of empty shot glasses and then glances at me. I
shake my head no, hoping he understands.
“I’ll be back with that hairy belly button,” he says, distracting Jett with
a joke while silently grabbing the shot glasses and slipping away.
Holden makes the drink quickly, adding the umbrella as promised and
two giant orange slices. Jett takes a huge gulp of the bright orange
monstrosity, moaning obscenely and wiping his mouth with his arm.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. At least he forgot
about the shots.
But for all that is holy. This boy is testing me.
“We’ll each take the halibut,” I say cooly before Holden can disappear
again, and he nods in acknowledgment, off to take more orders and make
more drinks.
“Maybe I didn’t want the fish,” Jett says stubbornly.
“It’s on special tonight and caught fresh daily. It’s the best choice. You
like fish, yes?” I ask calmly, trying not to agitate the drunk young man
before me.
“Yeah.”
“Yes,” I correct.
Jett huffs and rolls his eyes. “Yes. I like fish. Whatever. It’s fine.”
“Hmm.” I don’t push him any longer, taking a slow sip of my bourbon
instead.
The food is brought by a different server, and we’re silent as the plates
are set in front of us, along with glasses of ice water. We dig in, enjoying
the flakey white fish in a lemon sauce and creamy scalloped potatoes.
“So, can you tell me why you’re drunk and in such a sour mood?” I ask,
unable to stay quiet any longer now that we’re both done eating and sipping
the last of our drinks.
 Jett uses the umbrella to stab at the orange slices in his drink. “Yeah. I
mean, yes,” he says, glancing up at me.
Hmm. Already learning.
“I called Zander to check in, and he didn’t answer. Then, I called Lucy,
and. . .” He trails off as his eyes develop an even glossier sheen.
I rub his back in slow circles, encouraging him to continue speaking.
“She. . . She basically told me she agrees with Briggs that I should get
help while I’m here. But I am not a drunk or an addict, Cal!” he whines
before taking a small sip to finish his drink.
“You don’t have to be an addict to need help, Jett,” I say seriously,
trying not to agree with this Lucy woman over him. “You may simply need
to talk through certain feelings or get extra help to manage stress levels.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” he snaps back, instantly blocking the
suggestion.
“There are other things you could try. Meditation. Group therapy.
Focus.” Before he asks, I answer. “It consists of both solo and group
activities to build character and strength and encourage teamwork.”
“Like what?” He sounds skeptical but mildly interested.
“Hiking, painting, snorkeling, white water rafting, for starters.”
“I would be terrible at those,” he says, instantly putting himself down.
“You don’t know until you try. It could be fun—”
“If you go with me!” he blurts out, interrupting me.
Without thinking things through, I agree, and I can’t regret it when Jett’s
face lights up at the idea.
I know they have picnics, too, so I’ll talk to the concierge and make that
happen for our outing. It’s nothing special—just a standard amenity. I try to
reason with myself when in reality, this cheeky, uncivilized American
crawls under my skin and closer to my heart with every second we spend
together.
“I’ll let you know the next time they have a planned activity and what
that is.”
“I hope it’s painting. Have you ever done one of those paint-and-sip
classes where you drink wine and paint a sunset or fruit bowl?”
“No,” I say dryly.
“Me neither! That’s why I’m hoping that’s what we do.”
“I don’t think drinking will be involved, doll. It’s for rehabilitation and
mental health.”
 “Oh! Yeah. You’re probably right. Guess I’ll just load up ahead of time,
no biggie.”
I don’t bother right now. He’s almost too much for a man to handle as
he attempts to stand up from the barstool and nearly falls to the ground
instead.
I steady him, noticing he’s once again wearing those bloody flip-flops.
“Did you drive your golf cart over, Cal? Can you take me home?
Please,” he adds, peering up at me from his spot tucked against my chest.
My arms are wrapped around him in a tight embrace, and I rub his
shoulders before I let go and step back.
He seems to have forgotten about nude night but at the cost of being too
intoxicated.
“You alright?” I ask as he wobbles on his next step.
“Totally fine, Callum.”
“Mhmm,” I murmur, unconvinced.
CHAPTER TEN
Jett

T urns out the next activity is not painting, it’s hiking, and friggin’
Callum signed us both up!
Me and my drunk lips—loose and agreeing to anything before I
even know what it is.
I haven’t seen Cal for two days. I stayed in my villa and ordered room
service, laying out and swimming in the nude most of the time. My tan is
already dark, and my ass is as golden brown as the rest of me. No pasty
cheeks for me!
It took everything in me not to seek him out at Midnight Lounge,
assuming he would have been there at least one of the nights.
Luckily, before my resolve gave way and I marched over there, he
knocked on my front door early this morning. He said he was going for a
jog on the beach but to be ready for a hike later.
How the man can jog in the sand and then go on a hike in the jungle is
beyond me.
I’m showered and ready, waiting at the bar sipping a raspberry
lemonade. I have on cute workout shorts that stop mid-thigh and perfectly
hug my package. My top shows off my midriff and my small yet toned
arms. My brand-new white sneakers complete the look, and I know I look
good.
“You’re going to get eaten alive,” Cal growls as he sneaks up behind
me.
“Excuse me?” I gasp, unsure I heard him correctly.
“Mosquitos,” he says dryly, and I glance down as if I’m covered in
them.
“Oh,” is all I can manage, peering up and catching the twinkle in his
eye.
Cal is dressed in a fitted workout tank and beige cargo pants that hug his
ass nicely. He reaches into the side pocket of his backpack, grabs a can of
something, and tosses it to me.
“Insect repellant.”
“Thanks,” I say, extremely grateful that I won’t be covered in itchy
bites.
 I thoroughly spray myself all over, rubbing the oily mixture in until I’m
covered.
I hand it back and grab my tiny, crossbody man bag, slipping it over my
head until it’s tightly secured against my chest.
“Okay. Ready.”
Cal’s eyes travel my body, assessing me.
“I already put on sunscreen.”
“Hmm.”
I roll my eyes and grab his hand, tugging him toward the golf cart.
“Let’s go!”
“Since when are you so excited about an outdoor activity?”
“Because once I tell Briggs about it, he’ll get off my ass about therapy.”
“Yes. Well, it’s a good start.”
A good start?
This is friggin’ it, buddy.
I ignore Cal and enjoy the quick ride to the trail markers, where we hop
out and follow the arrow pointing to the waterfall.
“I can’t wait to see this place,” I say with glee, and Cal hums his
agreement.
“It’s lovely, doll.”
I really do want to make the most of my time here and be a fun
companion today. I also have an ulterior motive. I’m hoping I can talk Cal
into skinny dipping once we get there.
I want him to see my tan ass, even though I brought swim trunks just in
case he objects.
I hold the strap across my chest, damn near skipping with excitement.
The flowers are beautiful here, lining the path with stunning shades of
yellow, pink, and white. I take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh, floral scent
and the salt water permeating the air. Hints of sunlight pierce the canopy,
warming my skin and boosting my mood. We go on like this for a while, in
silent camaraderie.
It’s nice.
But, of course, it doesn’t last.
The further we hike along the mountainous trail, the thicker the forest
gets. It’s muddy now, and I bite my tongue against the multitude of
complaints that I want to spew out, starting with how my exclusive, new
sneakers will be ruined. But I don’t want to tarnish this experience for either
of us, or he won’t hang out with me anymore. So, I use all the strength I
possess to keep quiet, continually reminding myself that he has no
obligation to spend time with me.
I hop up and walk along a broken log with my arms stuck out on either
side like it’s a balance beam. I jump off the end and land with a skip and a
side-step to avoid a particularly sloppy puddle.
“You best pay attention to where you’re walking and stop dancing
around on the trail, doll. No matter how entertaining it is, this is a jungle,
not a ballet.”
Gah! So rude!
I was having a really good time too. Until his stupid mouth had to ruin
it.
“I was not dancing, Callum,” I say irritatedly. “You’ll know it when I
dance. I draw quite the crowd.”
“Well, I do see a few woodland creatures gathered ’round, including a
rather large spider on that tree behind you.”
I spin around and come face to face with a big, furry spider that I swear
looks right at me. I may or may not squeal as I run ahead.
“Can’t a man enjoy himself around here?” I yell over my shoulder, not
watching the ground where I’m walking and tripping on a root. He’s too far
away to catch me, and I land in the wet dirt on my hands and knees.
“Fuck!” I yell in frustration, pushing up to a kneeling position and
peering down at my hands. I can’t see any blood through the dirt that’s
caked on, but my palms sting.
“Here. Let me see.”
Cal pulls out a canteen and grasps one of my muddy hands. He holds
my palm open with his much larger hand, pouring fresh water over it. The
dirt washes away, revealing a couple of scratches, but the skin pulses and
throbs.
“It hurts,” I whine, holding out my left hand. Cal takes a closer look,
cradling it gently.
“You’ve got some nasty splinters in there.”
“Oh, God. I impaled myself with jungle wood! This isn’t a good start.
The trees hate me already. Will I get gangrene? Or will I have to get those
awful rabies shots? You know, like ten in your stomach all at once or
something equally terrifying.”
 Cal chuckles while he pulls out a small first aid kit and a pair of
tweezers that he disinfects with an alcohol wipe. “No rabies shots needed,
doll.”
He starts to clean the abrasion on my palm, and I yank my hand back.
“Ow! Fucking balls! That stings!” My shout is loud, and a nearby bird
flies away with an annoyed squawk.
Cal grabs my hand, pulling it toward him. “Stay still,” he scolds, and I
don’t say anything else except hiss through my teeth as Cal disinfects my
skin.
Then he blows on it, peering up at me from under his thick lashes.
“Better?” he mumbles in that low, sultry voice.
Oh, yes. His accent makes everything better.
“Does it now?” he chuckles.
“Huh? Oh. . .”
Whoops. Guess I said that out loud.
Callum laughs again, setting my hand down after applying a small
bandage.
“All done.”
“What? You are? I didn’t even feel it.”
“Distraction techniques.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, slightly embarrassed that I was so easily diverted
but grateful that it’s over.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever had a splinter before,” I say absently, rubbing at
the bandage.
“Not even as a child?” Cal asks, sounding somewhat astonished.
“No. My parents basically kept me in a plastic bubble and never let me
do anything except rehearse lines and go on auditions.”
“I’m sorry, doll. No child should live like that. It’s part of growing up to
fall down and skin your knee. Get splinters. Break an arm even.”
I snort at that. “My mom would have grounded me for a year if I ever
broke my arm and couldn’t book anything.”
I snap my mouth shut quickly, realizing I just revealed too much.
Because it’s too easy to speak to Cal, and that’s not really a good thing.
“These leaves are gorgeous,” I say, changing the subject and running
my fingers along a giant green leaf with purple veins.
“Don’t touch plants you know nothing about, Mr. Roman.”
“Ohhh. Back to Mr. Roman, are we?”
 “When you’re being an intolerable, irresponsible brat, yes. Mr. Roman.”
Gah!
“So when I’m being stupid, you basically mean?”
“You’re never stupid. And I would never insinuate such a thing. But do
you know the name of that plant or any of its properties?”
“Umm.”
“No. You don’t. Therefore, you don’t know if it’s poisonous.”
“Oh, God—”
“It’s not.” Cal cuts off my rising panic before it can truly be unleashed.
“No plants or animals on the island are toxic. Besides the birds, most of
the undomesticated animals like chickens, horses, pigs, and goats have been
introduced here over the past three thousand years. They aren’t native.”
“Oh wow. That’s so interesting. Seriously! You really could be the
island tour guide if you wanted to. And I mean no disrespect.”
“You little shit.”
I laugh and jump away from his clutches, running ahead. Very carefully.
“If you run, Mr. Roman, I’ll only want to chase you.”
I trip over absolutely nothing but regain my balance easily. Cal’s sexy
words make me want him to chase me.
I peer over my shoulder at him and chew on my lip.
“Oh yeah?”
Cal growls low in his throat, and I squeak, backing up like cornered
prey to a big, bad wolf.
Before I can take off running and encourage Cal to chase after me, the
sky opens up, distracting us both.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, and a giant raindrop makes its way
through the treetops, plopping onto my arm.
Cal wipes his forehead at the same time. “Bloody hell. This was not in
the forecast.”
There’s a bright flash of light, and the boom is louder this time, making
me jump.
The rain suddenly starts, coming down in thick, relentless sheets.
“Oh, fuck! Shit!” I yell over the surprise torrential downpour. It never
rains in L.A., so I’m not used to this!
“What if there’s a flash flood?! Oh, God! I can’t even climb trees! I
never learned! I’m screwed, Cal! I won’t be able to make it to higher
ground. I’m going to die!” I’m hyperventilating now, choking on the
rainwater as I heave giant breaths.
“Mother Nature’s trying to drown me!” I cry between hacking coughs.
Cal calmly slips something around my shoulders and pulls it over my
head. The water sluicing down my face stops, and I rub my eyes, sputtering
out a pathetic thanks.
Cal grabs my hand, tugging me after him. He has on the same plastic
poncho, and thank you, Jesus, this man is always prepared.
“Follow me! Hurry!” I barely hear him as his strong hand grips mine
tightly so we don’t slip apart. The jolt of lust that shoots to my cock has
unfortunate timing. I stumble slightly, and Cal slows down, grabbing the
back of my elbow to steady me.
“Where are we going?!” I shout. I’m not to be trusted with directions,
but I’m pretty sure we should have turned back around and raced for the
golf cart.
“I know a secret,” his wet lips murmur directly into my ear, sending a
shiver down my spine. “Just trust me.”
He pulls back, peering down at me through the rain. This moment feels
substantial as I place my hand in his again, trusting this man to take me
wherever he says we need to go.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Callum

I feel like a vivacious teenager again, instead of someone two decades

older and five times as jaded, pulling Jett through the pouring rain to a
secret hideaway. My smile is easy and relaxed, even though we’re
getting absolutely drenched. I haven’t been this carefree in a long while,
and I realize it’s because I’m with Jett. I push the slightly overwhelming
thoughts aside and continue jogging along the trail to the waterfall.
Except we’re not going there today. I’ll take him another time, but not
right now. Our Focus activity is a hidden spot no one, barring a select few,
knows about. I planned ahead, and my personal concierge, Tai, stocked it
with food and drink.
Tai knows my true identity and has signed an ironclad NDA. He also
receives massive bonuses for his continued loyalty. He goes above and
beyond, to say the least. Most of the staff have no idea who I am beyond
understanding that anything Callum Ryan says, goes, and you don’t ask
questions.
The rain’s getting heavier, and we’re still a mile from our destination.
My hiking boots are drenched, and I’m taking a risk continuing our journey
in this storm. Jett knows nothing about this island or its finicky weather. He
looks to me to take the lead and show him the way.
The next moment proves my point as lightning strikes, hitting a tall
palm tree not even fifty meters away!
I duck on instinct, the sparks flying high and lighting up the gray sky in
brilliant flashes of color.
“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jett screams.
“I know a detour! Let’s go!” I shout back, tugging him along. His once-
white sneakers are now a dark brown, and the poncho is plastered to his
head and body like a second skin.
Before the waterfall, there’s a small cave tucked into the side of the
mountain, and we can safely wait out the storm there.
“This way!” I yank Jett urgently, turning by the wonky coconut tree
shaped like a—
“Hey! That tree looks just like a dick!” Jett howls with laughter, tipping
his head back and choking on the rain again. I wrap my arm around his
shoulders and steer him toward the hidden cavern.
 “You saw it?” he sputters, pointlessly wiping his face with a wet palm.
“Did you see it, Cal?”
“Yes! Now, hurry!” A bright flash of light illuminates the sky, followed
by another ear-splitting boom.
“Fuck! Are we almost there? How much farther past the dick tree is it?”
“Not far past!” I shout back like his question is completely normal.
We enter a small clearing two minutes later, and I spy the dark hole in
the mountain ahead.
“There it is!” Jett shouts, pointing through the downpour, and we both
take off, running along the mountain toward our safe haven. I maneuver
him in front of me just in case he takes another tumble. I’m prepared to
scoop him up and run the distance if need be.
As soon as we’re in the darkness of the cavern, Jett peels his poncho off,
then slips his bag over his head, laughing freely. “I’ve never seen lightning
that close up. And I never fucking want to again. Jesus Christ, that was
intense.” He shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere as he
continues to laugh with a beautiful, easygoing smile.
I stand here dripping wet, watching him run those nimble fingers along
the rough cave wall, completely enthralled by his youth and captivated by
his beauty. “And I’ve never been inside a real cave before,” he admits shyly,
in complete awe of his surroundings.
“I suppose you’ve never been kissed inside one either?” The question
slips out before my brain can process the request to halt. It doesn’t even
bloody make any sense. This boy has my mind hazy and my thoughts
jumbled. One minute I want to spank and fuck him, then the next, I want to
protect and nurture him.
Jett spins around, palms plastered to the rock wall behind him, eyes
wide with lust and maybe a little panic. “Oh. Um. No. Nope. Have not.”
He shakes his head rapidly, and my lip quirks at how adorable he is,
soaking wet and slightly vulnerable.
I crowd him into the rock, hovering over his smaller frame and peering
into his deep brown eyes.
“Would you like to be?” I whisper, brushing the wet strands off his
forehead. I follow the curve of his face with my fingers until I get to his jaw
and cup it gently.
Jett nods, and I slowly lean forward, giving him plenty of time to object.
He doesn’t, so I gently press my lips to his, enjoying the feel of his plush
mouth against mine. He’s putty in my hands, so I slip my tongue in,
exploring him.
My hand slides down, gripping his throat but never squeezing too hard.
Jett whimpers at the possessive touch and hungrily kisses me back. I’ve
never felt so untamed around someone before, man or woman.
Intoxicated with power and passion, I let go of his throat and grab his
wrists, pinning his arms above his head. I force him to arch for me, trailing
hot kisses down his neck until I get to the tender spot where his shoulder
connects. I bite and suck, tasting rainwater and salty skin. Tasting Jett. I
desperately need more, so I know it’s time to pull away.
We’re both out of breath, panting heavily.
“Callum,” he whispers, eyes clouded with desire and something akin to
admiration. His chest heaves, and he leans forward, searching for more, but
a muddy cave in the middle of a near-monsoon isn’t the time.
I peer over my shoulder, noticing the rain and thunder have suddenly
stopped. Unexpected storms and flash floods aren’t uncommon in French
Polynesia.
“We should pick this up later. The sun’s out,” I observe casually,
although possibly a little cold for having just devoured his kiss.
Hurt flashes across his features before that same stubborn, determined
scowl takes over.
“Fine. Rain check. Sure. I get it. Whatever.” Jett slips under my arm and
heads for the exit.
“Doll, wait.” Americans can be so bloody sensitive!
I grab his wrist, halting his movements, although he freezes at the
mouth of the cave on his own.
Jett squints hard, and his face scrunches up adorably.
Sharp movement and pale flesh catch my eye as well. I whip my head
around, peering into the small clearing outside the cave by the tree line.
We both stand there watching the show, fascinated by the sight before
us. Luckily it distracts us from the kiss and Jett’s impending meltdown.
Two extremely fit and nearly naked young men wrestle in the mud by
the trail marker that points to the waterfall. They don’t see us, but we have a
clear view of them.
“If only I had popcorn. . .” Jett murmurs.
“Hmm.” I’m not sure how long I should allow this wrestling to go on. If
they’re just horsing around or possibly even engaging in some sort of
primal foreplay.
Black Diamond is a special place. It makes grown men do things they
wouldn’t normally do. Like frolic in the rain. . . and mud wrestle in their
underwear.
“Just submit, Jordan! Fucking hell, you stubborn twat!” one of them
shouts. They both have dark hair and similar athletic physiques.
Jett sticks his head out further, holding a hand over his brow like a visor,
and strains to look closer.
“Oh, holy shit! I swear to God, those are soccer players!” Jett whisper-
shouts as he scurries out of the cave, nearly slipping on a mossy rock.
I grab his elbow, and he peers up at me, his dark eyes sparkling.
“Steady,” I murmur, and Jett damn near whimpers.
A loud shout diverts my attention, and I glance at the men in the mud.
“Who are they?” I ask, unable to recognize them, which isn’t a surprise.
I don’t follow sports or watch TV. I live on an isolated island for the
majority of the year. I only know the famous Jett Roman because I enjoy
the cinema.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Theo Lewin and Jordan Emery,” he whispers
more calmly.
“Theo and Jordan,” I repeat aloud, remembering the names of the boys
Rory asked me to keep an eye on. His football players.
“Yeah! They play for one of the top football clubs in the UK. And
they’re over there friggin’ mud wrestling! This is nuts and kinda hot.
Right?”
My ears perk up at the names of Rory’s clients, and I ignore the fact that
Jett is clearly aroused by what he sees.
Two out-of-control football players. This won’t do.
“Stay here,” I tell Jett.
“Okay,” he agrees too easily, clearly lying. He follows me not even
thirty seconds later and, once again, slips on the moss.
I grumble under my breath but catch him.
Insufferable.
I’m fairly certain I’m about to have three brats to deal with.
Rory’s clients are in the mental health wing of Black Diamond,
specifically for anger management, which they clearly don’t have under
control at the moment.
 Once we’re close enough, I call out to them. “The storm’s over, boys.
Do carry on with today’s Focus activity.”
“Who the fuck are you? The activities police?” He’s got a mouth on
him, this one. And a cocky smile.
Jett bursts out laughing at the disrespectful question. “Yeah, Cal. Are
you the activity police? Island security, maybe? I wouldn’t be surprised,
Jordan. The man wears many hats around here. I’m Jett Roman, by the way,
and this grumpy old dude is Callum Ryan. And I already know who you
both are! I’m a huge fan.”
I side-eye Jett, unamused. He’ll pay for that later. He has no idea.
“You both need to continue with your Focus,” I say dryly.
Jordan completely ignores me, and I grit my teeth at his insolence. Rory
has to deal with this behavior professionally, which must be positively
intolerable.
In the business world, if you don’t listen, you get fired. But when talent
is involved, it’s an entirely different story.
“This is absolutely insane! I can’t believe it. We just saw your movie—
that really sad one where you’re a rockstar and you die at the end? What’s it
called?” He snaps his muddy fingers, thinking entirely too hard. “Oh, yeah!
Destined for the Stars. Theo cried like a little baby!” Jordan laughs loudly
and obnoxiously.
This boy with the big smile, smart mouth, and larger-than-life
personality is the one to watch. Although I’m sure Rory already knows this.
“Jordan,” his friend says sternly, a slight warning in his tone.
“Theodore,” Jordan says mockingly, in an overly deep voice. The same
sparkle that Jett gets shines brightly in his eyes.
Cheeky little bastard.
“You’ve got a bit of dirt, just there,” Jordan says sarcastically,
motioning toward his cheek.
Theo makes no move to wipe his face. It would be pointless. They’re
both covered.
“You didn’t get it. Here, let me.” Jordan quickly reaches for the other
boy’s face, his hand full of mud.
“Don’t touch me, you wanker.”
Jordan doesn’t listen, smearing a handful of wet, sloppy mud on Theo’s
head before he can duck away. It drips down his face and onto his lips.
 Jett and Jordan burst out laughing at the exact same time. Theo lunges
for his friend, taking him to the ground with a heavy thud. He straddles
Jordan, pinning his arms above his head and leaning over him. He shakes
his head like a wet dog and lets the mud fly all over his teammate, getting it
into his mouth and making him sputter.
“Fine! You win!” Jordan calls out, but Theo ignores his plea. I yank him
away, shoving him in the opposite direction.
“Enough, you two!” I shout.
Wait until I tell Rory about this.
“Are you not teammates? What is going on?”
I have to be an adult in this situation; it’s clear there needs to be one.
“Why are you both here? Why are you so angry? Why are you fighting
in the jungle during a dangerous storm? I don’t need those answers. I just
want you to think about them and maybe ask yourself later. See if you can
let the people here help you.”
I turn to Jett. “That goes for you too, Mr. Roman.”
I get a massive eye roll from him. “I don’t need help, Mr. Ryan.”
“Exactly, mate! Neither do we,” Jordan says emphatically.
I ignore their ludicrous statements. Theo keeps his mouth shut, and I
can sense the boy has slightly more reason than his teammate.
“Now, as I said earlier, continue on your way, boys. The waterfall is
straight down this path. Follow the arrow, and don’t veer off again.”
I earn another eye roll, this time from one of the footballers.
“Fucking activities police, I’m positive,” the smartass mumbles, but
they walk away toward the waterfall like I told them to.
“Catch you later, Jett!” he hollers.
I grab Jett’s hand, pulling him in the opposite direction before he can
speak another word to them.
To my secret spot. To the cove.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jett

“W hy are you such an uptight jerk? You were rude to them!”

“Me?” Cal chuckles. “It’s called being an adult, and I won’t
apologize for that. Need I remind you that I am seventeen years
your senior? Probably more for those two. They need discipline, and so do
you.”
God. Why does he have to put it like that? And why does the thought of
him disciplining me turn me on?
“I thought you didn’t work here, Cal? Why the hell would you care
whether they’re following the rules or not?”
“You know my buddy from uni, Rory, the one who called the other
day?”
“Yeah, I remember,” I say irritably, annoyed that I’m still soaking wet
and reminiscing about my past friggin’ jealousy.
“He’s Jordan’s agent and my dear friend. Rory asked me to keep an eye
on his boys while they’re here. He genuinely cares about them, and I
recommended this place to help. I truly believe in Black Diamond’s special
ability to aid people’s healing, and Rory believes in Theo and Jordan. To
put it mildly, they don’t get along, and I couldn’t leave them to their own
demise. Sometimes all one needs is to be steered back on track by a firm
hand. You might do well to learn this, or I can teach you.”
Oh, dear Lord. Teach me with a firm hand and a firm cock, please. I’d
get on my knees and beg for it, even.
“Whatever,” I grumble instead, easily masking my desire with attitude.
“I’m on vacation. Not at rehab. Why do I have to keep reminding
everyone?” I roll my eyes, and it must be an automatic response from my
brain stem. A baser instinct. I literally have no control over it. “I hope
Lawrence found out I’m not in rehab. Judgy asshole. I should learn
Taekwondo, come back next year, and kick his friggin’ ass. I’d wear ninja
gear so no one would know who did it.”
“You just told me. So, if that ever happens, Mr. Roman, I’d
automatically know it was you.”
Gah!
“Whatever, Cal! You get my point!”
“Not sure I do.”
 I step over a fallen branch. “Lawrence sucks, and no one would ever
suspect me if I wanted to let him know how much!”
It’s a genius revenge plan. Swear to God.
“Hmm.” Cal is beyond closed off, and it’s so infuriating. I storm off,
stomping down the swampy trail, my wet clothes clinging and my shoes
completely ruined. It makes me even more grouchy.

AFTER ANOTHER TWENTY minutes of walking and bitching, the trees

clear and showcase a breathtaking cliff and the open ocean beyond.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
I follow Cal, excited to see where he’s taking me. The sun is shining
brightly, and my wet clothes are nearly dry, but I’m dying to get out of
them. It’s friggin’ hot and ridiculously muggy after the rain.
Cal leads me to a small staircase built into the mountain, winding down
the cliff side to the beach. Below us is the most gorgeous island paradise I
have ever laid eyes on. The water is clear and shallow, lapping gently at the
shore before turning turquoise and a deep blue further out. The white sand
is unblemished save for two palapas and accompanying lounge furniture.
It’s mesmerizing up here looking out. I may actually gasp and clutch my
chest, but I’m too distracted by the stunning scenery to notice or care. Add
the fact that absolutely no one is here, and my dick is getting pretty excited
too.
“This is one of my favorite secret spots on the entire island. The Cove,”
Cal whispers into my ear from behind, and he makes it sound so damn sexy.
“We have the entire beach to ourselves. And under that palapa over
there”—he points to the far right structure with a thatched roof and open
sides—“is a cooler full of drinks and snacks.”
“Cal. This is amazing,” I say breathlessly. “I’m famished after trekking
through the jungle.”
“You made it, doll. And you did so well. I’m quite proud of you. Now,
let’s get down to our oasis. You deserve a reward.”
His praise makes my stomach flutter, and the strong hand on my lower
back, guiding me, makes my dick flutter.
 “Hold on to the railing, Jett. The stairs are very steep.”
I listen to his advice, grasping on tight as we silently descend. The sun
shines on my face, and the ocean sounds surround me. It’s so peaceful here,
and I can feel all my stress melt away.
Maybe they really know what they’re doing here with these outdoor
activities. Still doesn’t mean I’m going to sit around in a circle and talk
about my feelings. I don’t care if we all signed NDAs. Not happening.
I keep my muddy, disgusting shoes on until we get to the shade of the
palapa, knowing the dry sand will be blistering hot on bare feet.
I turn around, set my bag on the small wooden table, and immediately
peel my shirt off before dropping my shorts and underwear in one go.
“It appears modesty is not your strong suit. Is it, Mr. Roman?”
I peer over my shoulder at him, and his eyes are glued to my bare ass.
My tan ass.
Hah!
No one can resist a tan bubble butt. There’s no way.
“Guess not.” I shrug, slipping my tiny hot pink swim trunks on.
“Lovely color on you, doll.”
I spin around, gripping the table and smile at him. I want him to kiss me
again, but I don’t quite have the confidence to go for what I want. He’s a
little intimidating. Sexy but intimidating.
I’m distracted when my eyes dart up to the pointed rooftop. “Oh, thank
you, Jesus! There’s a friggin’ ceiling fan in here!”
Of fucking course there is!
Cal flips a switch on one of the beams, and the fan starts to rotate,
blowing cool air against my overheated skin and offering instant relief.
“Solar power,” Cal explains.
I sit on the lounge chair and lie back, sighing out loud. This is the
fucking life right here.
I hear clinking behind me, and then an ice-cold lemonade is set on the
table next to me.
“Oh, my God. Thank you.” I pick it up, enjoying the cool wetness of the
glass. I hold it to my cheek and groan. It feels amazing. I take a sip and
moan again. It tastes even better.
“Are you hungry?”
I nod my head, still sipping my lemonade through the straw.
 The next thing placed on the table is a spread of cheese, crackers, cold
cuts, and fruit.
“Did someone trek through the jungle and thunderstorm with a cooler
full of stuff?” I ask in astonishment.
Cal chuckles. “No. This cove can be reached by tender, and we’ll be
cheating a little and taking one home.” Cal glances at his watch. “Tai, my
personal concierge, did all of this and will be back in about two hours to
pick us up.”
“Oh, sweet! Because the thought of hiking through the jungle again
would ruin my mood. Now I can enjoy myself fully.” I grab a slice of
cheese, some prosciutto, and a piece of flatbread, make a little sandwich,
and stuff the whole thing in my mouth.
While I’m busy eating, Cal undresses down to tiny black shorts and
struts in front of my lounge chair. The smattering of hair across his chest
and down his toned abs calls me to lick it. Instead, I pop a grape into my
mouth and let my eyes follow him.
He sits next to me with a little smirk on his face.
“What?” I ask defensively.
“You have a crush,” Callum teases.
I huff and roll my eyes. “I’m twenty-one years old. I do not have a
crush.”
“Oh, pardon me, doll. What shall we call it then?”
I don’t answer.
“Infatuation?”
I continue to ignore him.
“Obsession?”
“Pfft. Hardly.” He’s so cocky, and it gets under my skin!
“No?”
“No! You wish, Cal. Now bugger off!”
Cal tips his head back and laughs loudly at my poor attempt at a British
insult.
I stand in irritation; he always has to ruin things. I pull my flip-flops
from my small crossbody bag and angrily slip them on my feet.
“I’m going swimming.”
“You need to wait thirty minutes after eating,” Cal says matter-of-factly.
“Huh?”
 “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” he asks innocently enough,
but the question is like a shot to the heart.
I learned everything from nannies who were rotated so often no one got
close enough to truly care. Mom only paid attention to me once I started
making her money. And I can’t say it was a good thing. She was more like a
manager, always pushing for more. Nothing I did was ever good enough.
Whatever.
My brows furrow, vaguely remembering such advice. “That’s dumb.
I’m not going farther than waist-deep. It’s fine.”
I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to him anyway. I don’t have to.
“I’ll be watching.”
I scrunch my nose at him.
Okay? So what? Watch me then!
I want to shout this at him, but I don’t. He invited me out here, stocked
the place with food and drink, and scheduled a boat for our extraction. I
keep my mouth shut and the snarky comments to myself. He doesn’t
deserve it.
I make my way to the ocean and wade into the crystal-clear water,
skimming my hands along the surface. I can see small shells on the bottom
and some brightly colored fish swimming farther out. Snorkeling would be
amazing, and I might be willing to go on another Focus to do that if it’s an
option.
It’s beautiful and magical out here, like I’m in my own world. Or on my
own island. I stay waist-deep like I promised and enjoy the sun on my face
and shoulders. I sink under and float on my back, letting the waves carry
me. The sun’s strength is powerful here, and I realize I probably need more
sunblock.
I doggy-paddle back to shore, slip my sandals on, and awkwardly jog
through the sand to the palapa.
I grab a fluffy white towel with the Black Diamond logo on it from a
wicker basket sitting on one of the small tables. I roughly dry myself off
and wrap it around my waist.
“I need more sunscreen. Can I borrow some?” I ask begrudgingly, not
really wanting to rely on him for shit at the moment.
He ignores my question anyway.
“Bubbly truce, doll? Have a drink with me, and then I’ll oil you up.”
 His grin is wicked, and the condensation dripping down the flute is
irresistible.
Well-chilled rosé is a personal weakness of mine.
I take it from him, and he holds his own glass up.
“Cheers to new friends and bad decisions,” I say before draining the
entire thing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Callum

T wo more glasses of rosé each and a good conversation later, and I’m
using coconut oil to massage Jett’s back after I lathered him in SPF.
He decided to spend the last bit of our time at the cove lying in the
sun to further tan his already tempting arse. I’m not sure I have the
willpower to stay away any longer.
He’s too sexy. His tight little body has me all worked up.
Jett moans slightly as I rub my hands over his bubble butt, squeezing
and kneading in unison. I lean over him and bite at his ear, eliciting a
delicious shiver from him.
“Do you like my hands on you, doll?”
“Mhmm,” he mumbles into the lounge chair.
“Do you want more?”
I ghost my thumbs over his crease and use them to spread his cheeks
apart, revealing his little pink hole. It puckers in response to being exposed,
and Jett half groans, half yells at me. “Callum! Ohmygod! I don’t need
sunscreen there!”
I chuckle and release him. It’s cute that he thought that’s what I was
doing.
“You didn’t answer my question, Jett. Do you want me to touch you?
Perhaps taste you?
“Taste me?!” he shouts, then immediately lowers his voice as if we
aren’t the only ones here and there aren’t miles of ocean stretched out
before us. “I mean, um, where?”
I reveal him again and tap his hole once. “Here. Just a little, doll,” I
rumble, my face inches away from where I’ve bared his body to my
predatory gaze. I wait for his consent.
“Yes,” he squeaks, spreading his thighs and arching his back for me. He
reaches underneath, grabbing hold of his cock and stroking himself once.
“Did I say you could touch yourself, doll?”
“W-what? No?” he answers, sounding unsure and frustrated.
“Then listen to me. You will come later when I allow it. It’s the only
way this works. Trust me.”
Jett whimpers with arousal and anticipation. I return my attention to his
tight little asshole.
 The strong scent of coconut oil infiltrates my senses, but there’s
something heady about it. Something my cock takes notice of. I lean
forward until my tongue swipes a path along his crease, circling his hole but
never applying pressure.
The musky smell of Jett’s arousal is an aphrodisiac to a starving man
like me. I lick at him, softening his sensitive flesh before I stiffen my
tongue, spearing into his tight hole.
Jett cries out, tilting his ass even more and spreading his legs wider like
he’s about to take my cock and not just my tongue. I hold him steady with
one hand on his hip while I continue to fuck him with my tongue. I reach
between his legs and stroke him a few times, keeping him right on the edge.
“Oh God, I’m almost there,” he whimpers.
I let go of his cock and slip my tongue out. Jett groans, burying his face
into the lounge pillow.
“Nooo. Why?” he nearly cries. His hips start to rock, his cock looking
for friction.
His hole twitches, needing more. I grab the bottle of homemade coconut
oil that Tai’s mother makes and squirt more on my fingers. It’s a tanning oil
but also a great lube. All natural. As is the weed lube I’ve procured from
Tai. Apparently, someone on the island makes it. I’ve yet to experiment
with it, needing the right partner with such interests. Perhaps I’ve found
him.
Having softened him up, I easily glide one finger inside.
“Oh, fuck. Yes, Cal!”
He rocks against me, clearly needing more. I insert a second finger,
stretching him a little further, and he groans. I curve them just right,
searching for his prostate. When I find it, he cries out in pleasure-pain, his
muscles clamping around my fingers.
“Ungh! Oh fuck! Gonna come—”
“Not yet,” I demand, quickly reaching under him and squeezing the
base of his cock so he can’t. I pause my fingers, too, keeping him stuffed.
“Ahhh! Callum, please! I want to come! I need to,” he whines, being a
brat again.
“Not until I say so,” I reply calmly.
I keep his base squeezed tight while I slip my fingers out. Using three
this time, I insert them back into his tight body, stretching him even more.
 He’s whimpering now, his body shaking from the strength of his
impending orgasm.
I fuck him relentlessly, watching him squirm and sweat.
“It’s a beautiful sight to see you stretched for me, doll.”
His legs start to quiver uncontrollably, and I know he’s on the edge.
I release my hold on his cock and curl my fingers, milking his prostate
for all it’s worth.
“Oh my God! Fuckkk!” Jett yells, his whole body pulsing as a powerful
orgasm rips through him. Warm cum spurts over my hand, seeming to never
stop.
“Callum,” he whimpers, still coming hard.
When his body starts to come down, I slowly pull my fingers free and
watch as his hole stays open. I want to shove my cock in, but he’s not ready,
nor does he deserve such pleasure.
He must earn my cock first. It is not just given.
Jett rolls over, cum smeared across his stomach.
“Holy shit, Cal. Where did you learn that?”
“Learn what?” I’m going to need to hear him say it.
“You know. That thing you do with your tongue. And your fingers.”
I lift a single brow in question.
“Inside my ass!” he adds low and urgently as if someone else might
overhear.
I chuckle, realizing how much younger he truly is. Perhaps innocent in
some ways.
He’s delicate for sure, the nickname fully appropriate. But I think I’ll
quite enjoy breaking him in.
“This is only the beginning, doll.”

HE SEEMS MORE pliant and agreeable after his release, and I’m hoping I
can use that to both our benefits. This island has the best therapists to offer,
and I’m already personally working on his stubbornness.
“I get the sense you’re a bossy bottom, but have you ever been a top?” I
ask casually, tracing a line down the curve of his spine. We’re lying under
the palapa, waiting for Tai to bring the tender.
 “No,” he breathes out as I near the dip of his ass.
“Have you been with a woman?” Although I’m pretty sure I already
know the answer to that question.
“No. But I got close once. Just sorta flopped it on top. Worst experience
of my friggin’ life. Traumatizing, to be honest.”
A deep laugh pours from the depths of my belly and doesn’t stop.
“Don’t laugh at my misfortune! So rude!” But he’s grinning too. The
sweet, boyish smile he gives when he’s not glaring like a brat.
“We were drunk, though. So I could at least blame my erectile
dysfunction on that. Too drunk to get it up. Is that even a thing?”
I haven’t laughed this hard in a while. He’s a riot.
“What? Have you slept with a woman?”
“Yes, doll. I’m bisexual. Didn’t you know?”
“Oh. Um. No. Guess I didn’t. So, do you prefer the P and the D fifty-
fifty? Or is it more of a sixty-forty preference for dick?”
Smirking little shit.
“It’s more about the person,” I answer honestly.
“That’s really nice. I like that. I like you, Cal.”
“I’m glad you’ve started to warm up to me, Jett. Are you beginning to
like Black Diamond as well?” I reach out and brush the hair off his
forehead.
If he doesn’t respect my island, this won’t work.
This place is my life, my future, my dream. My home. I’m forced to
bear the weight of many other businesses, but Black Diamond is a place
I’ve chosen to invest my time in. A place I truly believe in. And I’m most
happy here.
“I guess you could say it’s growing on me.” Jett gives me another
boyish grin, and all I can do is smile back, thinking how I can’t wait to see
those lips wrapped around my cock, pleasuring me and obeying me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jett

T he cove was a special experience, unforgettable, actually. Maybe

because it was with Cal, or maybe this Focus thing works. Even
though it’s used for rehab and mental health residents as some sort of
therapy, I actually had fun.
Makes me want to check out the other activities Black Diamond offers.
Considering everything that happened on the hike yesterday, I’m feeling
lighter and pretty refreshed. I was worn out and fell asleep easily last night.
I spent half the afternoon floating in the infinity pool connected to my
villa today.
It’s been relaxing, to say the least, but swimming works up an appetite,
and my stomach feels nauseous the longer it stays empty.
I hop in the shower and get dressed in one of my favorite new flowered
sets. This one features shades of green and yellow with palm fronds and
hibiscus flowers.
I try calling Zander again before I get food, automatically assuming he
won’t answer even though he used to pick up on the first ring.
“Jenn! Baby, what’s up?”
“Jenn?” I pull my phone away from my ear and make sure I called the
right number.
“Zander! It’s me, Jett. Are you high?”
“Shit! Jett? I. . . uh. . .”
Why does he sound like that?
“You’ve been avoiding my calls and texts, Zan. What the hell?”
“I’m sorry, Jett. I didn’t mean to. I’ve been busy preparing for this role.
You know it’s the biggest opportunity of my career so far. Filming starts
next month, and I’m kinda freaking out about it. That’s hardly any time to
prepare.”
“I know, Zan. But you could have answered my calls. I would have
supported you in any way. You didn’t have to ghost me.”
“I didn’t even know they let people have phones in rehab, and I’ve been
getting so many calls since it was leaked that I landed this role. I just
skipped over your name. My bad.”
There’s so much to unpack there, I don’t even know where to begin.
“Okay, first of all, I am not in rehab, Zander! Who told you that?”
 “Uh. . .”
“Friggin’ traitor,” I mumble under my breath. We used to tell each other
everything. What the hell happened?
“Whatever. Listen. I wanted to congratulate you on scoring the role, but
apparently, you just skipped over my name like I’m nothing to you! Out of
sight, out of mind? Is that it, Zan?”
I’m getting worked up, the peace I absorbed from my outing yesterday
ruined by my traitorous ex-best friend.
“I’m sorry! I’ve got a lot going on!” he tries to reason.
“My field of fucks has been plowed, Zander. There’s nothing left. Not
even a seedling. No more fucks to give.”
“Jett—”
“Did you give me molly on purpose?” I ask flat out. I need to know.
Briggs said he did, and he’s been acting shady as fuck.
“I. . . what? N-no! Of course not.”
He’s never this flustered speaking to me. Something’s off.
“I think you did. Just fucking tell me! Or was it your shitty friend Aaron
O’Kane telling you to do it?”
It’s not even a wild guess. Aaron has always been a dick to me, and I
can’t stand to be around him. I fucking hate his guts. Zander’s silence only
reinforces my idea.
“I bet he encouraged you, and hey, look, it worked. Congrats. You get to
be a vampire, and I don’t. I was happy for you before you blew me off and
acted shady. But now, fuck you, Zander! We can’t be friends anymore.
Some people are out to climb the social ladder and step on anyone. You
shouldn’t let others convince you to be like that. It’s not flattering.”
“Jett, wait! I’m so sorry! Please! I really am. I shouldn’t have—”
I end the call, tossing my phone to the bed.
Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!
I grab my hair and pull in frustration.
Goddammit!
He fucking admitted it! I had to hang up before I really went off and
said things I couldn’t take back. I don’t trust him not to record me. He
clearly doesn’t have a problem stooping low. Fucking scumbag. I hate him!
I need something. Anything. I don’t care if it’s still daylight and I
haven’t eaten yet.
 I sling open the fridge and grab the wine from dinner last night. I chug
the rest, but half a bottle of Chardonnay isn’t going to cut it right now.
It hurts.
No matter how mad I am at him, the truth that my best friend sabotaged
me with drugs to win a movie role and ultimately get me sent to rehab
really fucking hurts.

I WANDER over to Cal’s villa, even though he said he’d be busy working
today after we were gone most of yesterday. I’m a little tipsy, and I just
need a hug or something.
Fuck. I need Cal.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply before I knock, attempting to calm
my frazzled nerves and rumpled emotions.
Zander really fucked me over. He really did that shit.
I almost can’t believe it.
And then a terrible thought crosses my mind, dropping my stomach to
my toes.
Does Lucy know?
Oh God! Please don’t let Lucy be in on this. I really fucking care about
her regardless of the fact that she told me I need to get help while I’m here.
I don’t believe she could do that. Not in a million years.
No.
My spiraling thoughts are cut off by a wry voice. “Are you just going to
stand on my doorstep all afternoon, or were you planning on knocking,
doll?”
“Huh?” My head snaps up, brows scrunching in confusion.
How did he know I was standing here?
Cal answers my unspoken question, pointing to the doorbell camera I’ve
never noticed before.
“Why the hell do you have a doorbell camera on your private villa on a
private island in the middle of the Pacific?”
“Bob.”
“What?”
Did he just say Bob?
 “Yes. The little bastard can’t be trusted.”
“I’m still confused.”
“A monkey. A troublesome, meddlesome, no good monkey.”
“I didn’t know there were monkeys here!” I say excitedly, wondering
why we didn’t see any on our hike through the jungle yesterday.
“There aren’t. Just one. And he is a pest.”
I think I really need to meet this monkey. I bet we could be friends.
“But enough of that dreadful beast. What can I help you with?”
What can I help you with?
What kind of formal bullshit is that? I don’t care if he’s in business
mode.
Cal’s smartwatch goes off, as does the laptop behind him, ringing
nonstop until he taps his wrist, ending it.
“Hmm?” he asks impatiently, and I won’t lie, I’m a little hurt by it after
that amazing kiss and his amazing tongue. In my ass.
A few beeps come from the phone on the coffee table behind him,
followed by an incoming call. Callum sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose
and closing his eyes.
His gaze is closed off when he opens them again, not focused on me.
“Now isn’t the best time, doll. I’m dealing with multiple business
fiascos, including a lingering pirate issue. I need to get back to it.
Everything alright?”
He’s clearly too busy for me, and it annoys the heck out of me that I’m
annoyed!
I play it off like I’m cool, even though jealousy and insecurity swirl in
my gut, and the rejection stings a little.
“Yeah. Just gonna get food, but I’ll catch you later since you’re too
busy.”
I spin on my heel and leave, but Cal grabs my wrist, stopping me.
I guess he picked up on the passive-aggressive tone.
“Doll, wait. Give me a couple hours to settle things down and wrap
some of this up.”
I glance behind him at the computers, tablets, and blueprints strewn
across the place.
“I can’t wait that long. I’m starving now.” I wrench my wrist from his
grasp, and he clenches his jaw hard as his phone goes off yet again.
 “You can get that,” I say casually, like his blowing me off doesn’t hurt
when I’m already shattered inside by my best friend’s betrayal.
“See ya ’round, Cal.”
“Jett. . .”
I ignore him, even though I know it’ll push his buttons. I confidently
stroll down the pier, swaying my hips with a little more force than
necessary. But Cal needs to be reminded of this ass, even though it was only
yesterday that he was devouring it.
I head back to my villa and call for a ride to Midnight Lounge. I’m too
lazy to walk and not really in the mood anyway.
I plop down at the bar when I get there, feeling oddly relaxed and
comfortable, like I’ve been coming here for years instead of days.
I wait for the bartender, letting my thoughts take over.
I’m shackled to the industry, to my parents. Briggs. Everyone.
And none of them can be trusted. The only person I’ve been able to trust
in a long while just blew me off when I really needed him.
“A mojito and three shots of tequila, please. And the crab cakes,” I tell
the woman behind the bar.
I haven’t seen her around much, but she comes back quickly and sets
my drinks in front of me. I ignore all attempts at small talk, so she takes the
hint and leaves me be.
I down the shots one by one and suck on the lime wedges in between,
sipping my mojito as a chaser.
That was rough, but it should get me started. I need to forget all this
bullshit and let loose.
People are assholes.
Whatever.
I take another sip of my mojito before the bartender returns with my
dinner.
The sun starts to set, and brilliant shades of pink, orange, and red
illuminate the horizon. It’s gorgeous, and I take another bite of the fresh
crab cake, enjoying my evening despite everything happening.
No matter what, this is nice. This is peaceful. The island is definitely
growing on me.
By the time I finish my food and order another drink, the sun has fully
set. I see lights and tables being set up further down the beach, and shortly
after, music starts thumping.
 I wander away from the bar, taking my mojito to check out this beach
party.
People are already gathering, alcoholic beverages in hand, and I slip
into the crowd effortlessly.
The more I sip, the drunker I get and the more pissed off I become. I’m
not usually an angry drunk, but this island changes men. Swear to God it
must.
How dare he blow me off like that after our amazing day? Like I’m
some sort of stranger and he didn’t just have his tongue in my most private
part! Gah!
I’ll friggin’ show him. I scan the crowd, searching for the perfect target,
determined to have fun tonight at this beach party under the stars.
I spy Chase, big muscles stretching his T-shirt tightly.
Bingo!
I could friggin’ climb this man like a tree. Maybe he’s a linebacker or
something.
I make my way over to him. He’s standing off to the side at a cocktail
table, drink in hand, observing the crowd like he doesn’t quite know what to
do with himself.
I can give him something to do.
“Hey,” I purr, setting my drink down beside him. “Wanna dance?”
I’m not here for small talk; I’m here to dance. And I’ll take a risk asking
an employee.
“Oh. Um.” He glances around, searching for someone, before his
confused eyes return to mine, staring for a bit.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Cheers,” I say, holding up my mojito and waiting for Chase to clink his
glass against mine.
We chug the rest of our drinks, heading for the makeshift dance floor in
the sand.
The song changes, and the DJ spins one of my favorite Lil Nas X songs.
Chase grabs my waist, takes charge of my smaller body, and grinds
against me, rolling his hips like he wasn’t just standing there with a stick up
his ass five minutes ago, shy as fuck.
Holy hell, the big guy can dance. I think I just found my new favorite
dance partner. Lucy may have a run for her money.
 My hands work their way up his chest, unable to stop themselves. His
pecs are just so large. They’re bulging against his T-shirt. It’s obscene.
I wonder if his ass bulges the same way?
Our bodies continue grinding to the beat, the music pulsing around us as
it switches to something slower. I don’t recognize it, but it’s sultry and a
little too sexual, honestly, but we both just go with it.
Chase locks our bodies together, sliding his massively thick thigh
between my legs, nearly making me sit on it. He starts rocking us to the
beat, and we might possibly be getting a little too into it.
I bite my lip and reach around, inching my fingers toward his ass,
curious for a feel.
Before I get there, I spot someone I’m very excited to see.
He came here looking for me. Hot.
“Callum’s looking! Kiss my neck! Do it now!”
“What?! I dunno, Jett,” he whispers, never losing his rhythm.
“Holden’s here,” I tell him, also having spotted him and Atlas.
Chase’s warm mouth descends to my neck, pressing gently, almost like
your great aunt would. I shiver, and not from attraction. This just reinforces
the fact that I want the angry British man storming toward me. But I won’t
let him off that easily.
Callum pulls me away, and I don’t resist. Chase just stands there
awkwardly, the bass still pulsating around us.
“What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Cal’s eyes are
gray and stormy. Friggin’ sexy. But I don’t let him know.
I poke his chest instead, rolling my eyes. “Dancing, Mr. Ryan. I can do
whatever I want. You have no say over me.”
I grab Chase’s hand and tug him away to prove my point. He follows
along like a massive, oversized puppy. Obedient and sweet.
I glance behind me.
“Are they following us?” he asks as we power-walk away.
“No, they’re just standing there.”
We walk a little more, and I check again.
“Oh shit! Run, Chase! Run!” I whisper-shout.
“They’re chasing us?” he asks, sounding excited by the prospect, and I
won’t lie, I am too.
We continue running, and just as Holden tries to reach out, Chase picks
me up like I weigh nothing, making me squeal. He takes off down the beach
faster than ever, but he’s no match for Callum. He grabs Chase’s arm,
slowing him enough for Holden to catch up.
“Stop running, you asshole,” Holden says to Chase, wheezing loudly.
Chase’s heavy steps slow until he stops and sets me down, his huge
body heaving.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Callum. Go bugger off and eat a dick!” I shout,
running a hand through my hair, fed up with his hot and cold behavior.
Only he doesn’t like that. He grabs my arm and pulls me against his
chest.
Oof.
“Close that bratty mouth before I stuff it full and shut you up.”
My breath catches.
So rude! But totally hot.
I reach out and pinch his nipple through his shirt.
“I’d hate it if you did that. I’d riot.”
I’m getting worked up, my dick starting to plump up.
I pinch his other nipple, and Cal’s jaw grinds so hard I’m afraid he’ll
crack it.
Shit. I’m going to get a boner in front of Chase and Holden.
I go to pinch him again, but Cal finally reacts, twisting and
manhandling me so I’m bent over, and my flowered-covered ass is up in the
air. Without warning, a hard smack lands on my butt, and I moan, finally
getting what I was hoping for all along.
I think I crave it.
His spankings. His discipline.
Cal stands me up and tugs me toward the dark jungle.
“Disrespectful little brat,” he mutters under his breath, not letting go of
my hand.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t ask questions right now, doll. I’m hanging on by a thread.”
He picks up the pace, and I nearly stumble to keep up.
We don’t go too far into the jungle. Just enough to where no one should
hear us. The moonlight breaks through the canopy of palm fronds and casts
Callum in a silver glow.
He stares at me intensely, and I swallow thickly, excited, turned on, and
maybe a little scared.
“You let him put his mouth on you.”
 I roll my eyes. “Just my neck. That’s nothing. And you and I aren’t
anything.”
“You are absolutely infuriating! Games like this are why I do not get
involved with twenty-one-year-olds.”
He says my age as if it’s a negative thing for him. A strike against me.
“You blew me off today when I was upset and needed someone to talk
to.”
Confusion passes over his face. “Upset? Doll, you didn’t portray that
standing on my doorstep. You really need to improve your communication
skills. It’s key to a healthy relationship. You’ve got to tell me what you
need. Always.”
“This isn’t a relationship,” I reply stubbornly.
“No. I suppose not. Not yet.” His grin is wicked.
“Now, what were you upset about? Or can it wait? Because if you think
you’re going to get away with that little stunt, you’re sorely mistaken, Mr.
Roman.”
Oh, dear God. I’ve lost all rational thought. Even my traitorous ex-best
friend slips from my mind.
Cal holds his palm open, waiting for me to place mine in his. A silent
agreement to whatever’s about to happen.
And I am one hundred fucking percent on board.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jett

“Y ou enjoyed it when I spanked you in public, didn’t you? Moaning

in front of Chase and Holden like that.” Cal’s voice is cold, yet
there’s a fire burning in his eyes. It’s white hot, scalding me with
the intensity of a thousand suns.
I can’t answer. It would be a yes, and the thought of doing something
else like that in public gets me really fucking horny. But I just learned this
about myself moments ago, and I’m not quite ready to admit it out loud, so
I stay quiet.
“Pull down your pants.”
“W-what?”
“Turn around, pull down your pants, bend over, and grab onto that tree
behind you.”
“Out here?” Oh God, my dick is so hard right now I’m dripping.
“You will take five more spankings.”
“For what?!” I ask in outrage, listening nonetheless and yanking down
my shorts.
I brace my hands against the tree and drop my head, staring at my
aching cock.
“For dancing with Chase just to make me jealous.”
Smack.
I grunt at the impact, my cock bobbing between my legs.
“For running away from me.”
Smack.
This time I groan, the sting of his hand against my bare butt mixing with
the pleasure of his touch. It’s erotic and overwhelming and—
“For making me chase after you.”
Smack.
I want to reach down and stroke myself so badly, but I remember Cal’s
words from yesterday, his command. I won’t touch myself or come until he
says I can.
“And for being so goddamn infuriating, sexy, and irresistible all at the
same time.”
Smack.
Callum delivers one last slap of his palm, making five just as promised.
 I moan, my skin stinging hot. It feels oddly pleasurable mixed with the
anticipation of what’s to come.
“Doll, your cheeks are beautifully red in the moonlight. You were such
a good boy, listening so well.”
I swallow thickly at his words, liking how my belly flutters and my
cock throbs to the same pulse as my stinging ass.
I never knew it could feel so good to be spanked.
I moan, waiting for him to touch my cock. To stroke it, lick it,
something. Anything.
I desperately need to come. Desperately.
But instead, he says, “Now turn back around and get on your knees for
me, doll.”
My body obeys while my mind fights against it.
He should be getting me off. Finish me after you punish me, Cal.
Come on!
But here I am, on my knees instead. Aching and willing. Dying for a
fucking taste of Cal.
Oh God. I need it now.
He pulls his cock out of his pants. It’s long and gorgeous, slightly
curved at the end, but thick as hell.
I stick my tongue out and swipe the bead of pre-cum from his tip.
“Mmm,” I moan, appreciating his flavor. His essence.
All Cal. All man.
“That’s it,” Cal says, combing his fingers through my hair.
I suck on the tip, slowly going down a little further each time.
“There you go. Take a little more,” Cal flexes his hips, stuffing the last
bit of his cock down my throat. I relax and swallow, making him moan.
“Fucking hell, doll. Suck that cock. You’re such a good little slut.”
Dear Lord, this man.
His words make me whimper and choke around his length. I try to pull
away, but he grabs onto the back of my head, fucking my mouth
relentlessly.
“Take. It. All.” His jaw is clenched tightly as he comes down my throat.
I swallow load after load of jizz, sucking every last drop out of his cock.
I lick him clean and stand up. Anticipation makes my dick painfully
hard.
“Now it’s time for your reward, doll. For being so good.”
 I shiver at his words, my knees nearly giving out. My dick is rock hard,
sticking straight out, and my ass cheeks still sting. I’m ready for anything
he wants to give me.
“Let’s go back to the villas first. What I want to do with you requires a
bed, not a jungle.”
Oh. Yes, please. Yes fucking, please!
I reach down and yank my shorts up, Cal smoothly tucking himself
away.
“Let’s go!” I say, taking off toward the beach.
“This way, doll,” Cal says, biting back a smile.
“I knew that. Just testing you,” I grumble, walking past him.
Callum chuckles and joins me on our walk to the villas. The night is
balmy and warm, making my skin feel sticky. Desire hums under the
surface.
The party is still in full swing when we return to the beach. No one
notices us, everyone too drunk or high off Holden’s homegrown weed.
I can see the villas in the distance. The piers are lit up beautifully,
showcasing their luxury.
“Race you home. Loser doesn’t get to come,” Cal says.
“What?!” I shriek. “You run on the beach damn near every day! How is
that fair? You know I won’t even make it without busting my ass in the sand
at least twice!”
Cal’s mouth takes on a cynical curve.
“And what the hell happened to my reward?!”
“You can have a ten-second head start. Godspeed,” he replies curtly.
Is this some kind of strange British joke?
“You twat!” I shout before taking off. I try my absolute hardest,
pumping my arms and running as fast as possible on the uneven sand.
It doesn’t take long for Cal to pass me, snickering as he does. He’s
casually standing by his door when I arrive, arms folded across his chest.
Cocky bastard.
Whatever.
I veer off, heading toward my villa instead, and Cal follows me,
catching my elbow.
“Uh. Uh. Uh. I don’t think so.”
He’s so condescending.
I roll my eyes and yank my arm away. “Don’t care.”
 I stomp across the wood decking, intent on a bubble bath and jerk-off
session. Alone.
“You said the loser doesn’t get to come, so this is me not coming, Cal.”
I give him the finger over my shoulder, but I don’t make it more than five
steps before he grabs me.
“You are an absolute brat. Heavens. It’s ridiculous.”
I glare up at him and stick my tongue out just because he said that.
“I can’t believe I’m even dealing with such behavior,” he adds.
I rip my arm away once again. “Fine. Then don’t.”
Cal’s jaw clenches with annoyance. I can see the war waging behind his
stormy gray eyes, and the battle looks like a tough one.
“My place. Now, Mr. Roman.”
“No.”
I nearly melt at the raised eyebrow and sexy quirk of his lips. “You
seem to be dying for another spanking, hmm?”
My butt cheeks throb at the reminder of his stinging palm, and my balls
ache from being denied release.
I’m going to give in. Again. Let him do whatever the fuck he wants to
me.
“I—”
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, causing me to jump. I slip it out
and glance down.
Lucy.
“I. . . I need to take this.” My eyes dart up and lock onto Cal’s. “It’s
important.”
“We’ll pick this up later,” he murmurs. “But you will not come unless
I’m there to see it.” He closes his villa door behind him, and I quickly
answer my phone before it ends.
My balls are throbbing.
Goddammit! This is inconvenient.
How dare he! And the annoying part is that I know I’ll listen to him.
I’m going to obey.
I ignore my poor semi and hold the phone to my ear.
Even though I’m still mad at her, I really do need to talk to someone
about Zander.
“Lucille.”
It’s formal and weird. Not even her name.
 ‘“Okaaay. . . So it’s like that now?”
“What are you calling for? Last time we talked, you told me I needed to
go to rehab. Rude, by the way.”
“I. Did. Not. I said to get help while you’re there. You can fully enjoy
the fucking fabulous vacation that Black Diamond offers, but you could talk
to someone too. Try something, Jett.”
“I did.”
“You did?!” she shrieks, way too excited about the idea of me getting
therapy.
“Well, I didn’t talk to anyone per se. It was an outdoor activity called
Focus.”
Lucy squeals excitedly. “What did you do?”
“Hiked. Survived a lightning storm. Spent the day at a hidden lagoon.
Left by boat.”
“No fucking way. That is some elite ass shit. I’m definitely not top-tier
enough for that.”
“Shut it.” For some reason, I don’t really feel like telling her who I went
on the hike with. It feels too personal right now.
“I spoke to Zander,” I say, changing the subject to something I actually
want to talk about.
“Oh my God! Finally! I haven’t seen him since you left either. What did
he say?”
Okay, so she’s clueless. That’s a good sign that she’s still my friend.
“Well. . .”
Here goes nothing. She won’t like it.
“Zander gave me molly on purpose that night.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lucy screeches like a friggin’
pterodactyl.
“Aaron O’Kane gave it to him.”
“That fucker. I knew he was no good. Zan doesn’t listen.”
“Yeah, well. I really don’t give a shit anymore. He can let the prick
control him if that’s what he wants. He’s landed his dream role. His big
break. Blah. Blah. Blah.”
“If he can handle the pressure,” Lucy interrupts.
“If he can handle the pressure,” I repeat. Zander already sounded
flustered as all hell on the phone earlier. And he still has plenty of time to
prepare.
 I have a feeling he’s in over his head.
Doesn’t change the fact that he sabotaged me. Fucking ripped my
dreams away from me and made them his own.
“I’m so sorry, Jett,” Lucy whispers, sensing my shift in mood.
“He got the role. My role. He. . .” I nearly choke on the words, my
lifetime dream going down the drain. Up in flames.
Whatever.
“He gets to be a vampire,” I sniffle, holding the tears back as best I can.
“I know. I know, babe. Listen. I’m Team Jett all the way, baby,” Lucy
coos into the phone. “Imma get fangirl T-shirts made and everything. Just
wait. I’ll have half of Hollywood wearing them. It’ll go viral. I’m sure.”
A sob bursts out unbidden, and I slap a hand over my mouth,
embarrassed by the stupid emotions pouring out of me.
“Jett. Are you okay? For real.” Lucy’s tone turns serious, thick with
concern.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” I say with a hiccup. “I’m just really
relieved I still have you, Lucy. I love you.”
“Aw baby boy, I love you too. You’ll always have me. Just not like that.
Ya know?”
I snort, her silliness putting a smile on my face. “Shut it. You know I
only like the D. You’re safe from my charms, don’t worry.”
“Mhmm. Sure.”
I laugh, a huge weight lifted that I still have Lucy on my side.
“Well. I’m back at my villa.”
“Okay, boo. Well, don’t forget the last chat we had, either. Okay? The
one where you got mad at me. It’s important too.”
I take a deep breath, a little annoyed she’s bringing therapy up again
after our amazing conversation.
“Lucy. . .”
“Look, babe. You can’t ignore your mental health. It’s just as important
as the physical. You’re at the most established resort and recovery center.
Take advantage of it.”
My giant sigh interrupts her, but it doesn’t stop the mama bear lecture.
“I repeat. Take. Advantage. What you need is right in front of you,
wrapped in a sunny, sandy, prestigious bow. You may never get another
chance like the one you have right now, Jett.”
 “Okay, Lucy. I hear you,” I say, knowing she’s right. “I’ll keep an open
mind and let the friends I’ve made here steer me in the right direction.”
And the friends I’m talking about really consist of one person.
Cal.
He knows a lot about this island, its secret spots, and even the rehab
center. I’m sure I could ask him anything.
“Friends?” Lucy asks.
She’s too perceptive.
“Okay! Byeee!”
“Jett—”
I hang up before she can grill me or make me promise to go to therapy.
The word alone makes me shudder. I need time to make a decision like
that.
And my decision will probably still most likely be no.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jett

C al and I have been spending a lot of time together. Things seem to

have fallen into place after that little mishap with Chase the other
day. He wanted Holden’s attention, and I wanted Cal’s. As far as I’m
concerned, it worked out for both of us.
Except we haven’t hooked up. At all. Not since the jungle spanking and
epic face-fuck. I can’t help but wonder if him acting like it didn’t happen is
all part of my punishment.
Rude.
I’ve gone too many days without ejaculating. It can’t be healthy. No
way. My sac is starting to hurt.
But I continue to play it cool, acting unbothered as I lounge on the
beach, working on the best tan of my life.
It’s not even mid-afternoon, and the old man has passed out under the
umbrella. At least he’s in the shade. I don’t have the strength to move his
big ass. We may have gone a little too hard, too early. Frozen strawberry
margaritas are my weakness. And apparently, Cal’s too.
I stare off into the ocean. The turquoise water hypnotizes me with its
beauty, nearly lulling me to sleep.
Just as my eyes flutter shut, I hear a loud screech from the jungle behind
me.
I look to the sky, searching for a friggin’ dinosaur or maybe a pelican,
but my eyes catch on a small monkey clinging to a tree branch and staring
me down. I swear to God his beady little eyes are bouncing between Cal
and me like he’s weighing his options.
The infamous Bob.
The lone fucking monkey.
He hops down, scrambles across the hot sand, and climbs onto the table
next to me. He stares rudely and intently.
“So we finally meet, Robert.”
Bob hisses at me like a friggin’ cat and scurries to Cal’s armrest.
I know the little bastard isn’t a wild animal; otherwise, I’d shoo him
away. Cal already told me about the thieving monkey.
Bob pulls a Sharpie out of the little pouch around his waist and draws
something on Cal’s sleeping face before running away.
 I lean forward and squint to see what he drew. My eyes widen in shock,
my brows darting up my forehead when I realize what it is.
A cock and balls.
A perfectly drawn dick on Cal’s forehead.
I’m stunned speechless by the sheer artistic ability. Bob’s got skills!
I grab my phone and quickly snap a photo, needing to document this for
evolution or the future of mankind or something.
I snicker, feeling a connection to the little guy and wondering where he
ran off to. He deserves a reward for this shit!
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, careful not to fall asleep so I
don’t wake up with my own face tat.

“YOU’VE GOT a dick on your forehead there, Cal,” Polly says casually
after she has a full conversation with him and takes his drink order. Her
eyes sparkle, and she winks at me, strolling back to the beach bar to make
her world-famous mojito for me.
Uncontrollable laughter starts to bubble up inside of me.
Cal sits up quickly, pulls out his phone, and flips the camera around. His
accusatory glare immediately darts to me, his gray eyes narrowing. “You
little shit!”
I burst out laughing, finally getting to release it. I shake my head in
denial. “It wasn’t me! Swear to God! It was the monkey!”
It’s a ludicrous statement, I know it is. But it’s true!
“Bob drew a penis on my forehead?” Cal asks in a dry monotone.
I start to laugh even more hysterically, nodding my head.
I can’t breathe.
And I can’t take him seriously with Sharpie all over his face!
“Surely a monkey cannot draw an anatomically correct phallus.”
I’m wheezing before I’m able to pull myself together enough to speak.
“Bob has skills,” I say in all seriousness. “It’s impressive.”
The monkey takes this opportunity to scurry over and climb onto the
table, jumping up and down while pointing at me and hooting.
He’s shaking his small head no, trying to blame me!
 “Oh my God! I’m going to pee my pants!” I holler at Cal, and I guess
the monkey too.
What is happening?
“It’s too funny! I feel like I’m hallucinating, but this island is real! And
Bob totally drew a dick on your face!”
I’m crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks. The little klepto uses
our distraction to grab my sunblock and run off with it.
“Hey!” I shout, hopping up from the beach chair, ready to hunt him
down.
“Please do not chase the animal into the jungle as if you could actually
have a rational conversation with him. It would be concerning.”
“He might be able to. Did you see how well he draws? I heard he makes
margaritas too.”
“Bloody hell, this island,” Cal mumbles, pinching the bridge of his
nose, looking exasperated. But it just doesn’t have the same effect with X-
rated graffiti on his face.
“Shouldn’t have taken a midday nap like an old man, Cal!” I cackle
obnoxiously, but he reminds me who really has the upper hand, and my
laugh dies in my throat.
“Go ahead, keep it up. Only means your ass will be redder tonight, Mr.
Roman,” his deep voice threatens.
My cock starts to thicken, and I’m wearing tiny swim trunks again. Pale
pink with flamingos. There’s zero chance of hiding an erection or even a
minor chub.
I’m so horny, and Cal hasn’t touched me in days. If I have to be
obnoxious and provoke him, then so be it. That’s my forte.
Polly returns with our drinks and a make-up wipe for Cal to scrub his
forehead. Her presence is the perfect opportunity to be annoying.
“Polly, do you have an early-bird dinner special? Cal’s already falling
asleep, and I’m thinking he might be ready to eat before five.”
“Jett. . .” Cal growls, so I keep going, intent on working him up and
getting the reddest ass possible.
“Oh! Maybe liverwurst. Or a little rice pudding for dessert. And does
that come with prune juice? I’m concerned for his regularity.”
Polly cackles, shaking her head. “Oh boy, are you in trouble tonight.”
I grin wickedly at her, and she snorts, rolling her eyes.
I’m counting on it.
 Cal grabs my wrist, our fresh drinks forgotten, and tugs me toward the
pier. Toward home.
“Let’s go. Now.”
I can’t even play hard to get. There’s no point. I antagonized him.
Pushed his buttons to get a reaction. I want this so fucking bad; my cock is
throbbing, and my balls are aching, so I follow obediently as he pulls me
along on my leash.
I need him to spank me and fuck me.
Fucking need it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jett

“Y ou think you can speak to me however you want? Disrespect me

in front of others and get away with it?”
Cal doesn’t waste one second confronting me the moment the
door is closed. He backs me into the wall, and I attempt to swallow the
lump forming in my throat. Cal seems more upset than I realized. I thought
he knew I was joking. Pushing his buttons to get him to finally make a
move.
Well, the move.
Because I need this man to fuck me!
He’s denied me an orgasm for far too long, and it’s really not fair.
“I haven’t come in days!” I blurt out in a whiny voice. “My balls are
dark blue at this point. Friggin’ navy!”
“You want my cock?” The deep timbre of his voice does nothing to help
my situation.
I whimper at his blunt words.
“Yes. Fuck me, Cal. I obeyed. I haven’t come. Swear to God. You told
me not to, and I didn’t. Now, please. Just fuck me.”
Cal growls possessively before slamming his mouth to mine. He flips us
around and walks me until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
He breaks our kiss and pushes my shoulder. I fall on my butt, bouncing
on the soft bed. I lean back on my elbows, and Cal follows, kissing me
hungrily.
My cock is straining against my flamingo trunks, and Cal must sense
this. He reaches down and squeezes my erection. “You really haven’t
come?” he murmurs in awe against my lips.
“You told me not to.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually listen, doll.”
“Well, I don’t normally, but when it comes to you and sex, I really,
really want to listen. I want to surrender to you, Cal. I wanna let you do
anything you can think of to me. Anything.”
I want someone dominant by nature. Someone who can’t help being
anything but.
I want Cal.
 His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring as he attempts to reign in the carnal
desire. His chest heaves as much as mine. Cal’s turned on; there’s no
denying it. He’s worked up and probably just as horny.
“I’m too impatient for punishment at the moment, doll. I’ll have to
double up later. Right now, I need to be inside you.”
Oh, God.
I’m shaking with anticipation.
“Hands and knees. Show me your tight little asshole, doll.”
I slip my trunks off and spin around, scrambling to my knees, eager to
obey.
“That’s it. Beautiful.”
I peer over my shoulder, watching with half-lidded eyes as Cal sucks his
thumb into his mouth before running it through my crease and over my
hole.
My eyes automatically shut, and the longest, most embarrassing moan
pours out of me.
“You like when I touch here, hmm?”
Cal’s thumb ghosts over my hole again, teasing me before disappearing.
“Callum,” I whine, desperate for more.
I hear the telltale snick of a bottle cap, and then cool liquid drips down
my most private area.
Cal reaches underneath me, grabbing my cock, and I jolt at the touch.
He strokes me, and I’m too close already.
“M-maybe I should come first. I won’t last long. I know it.”
“No.”
“But—”
Smack!
Cal spanks me hard, instantly silencing my rebuttal before I can even
start.
Four more spanks and Cal pours more lube into his hand, rubbing it all
over my stinging cheeks. I’m sure I look shiny and red, just the way he
seems to want me.
His talented fingers slip between my crease once again, finding my
hole. He inserts one up to the knuckle, giving me no time to prepare.
My body lurches forward, and I damn near howl.
“Oh fuck. Go easy on me, Cal. Goddamn!”
 “Shh. It’s only one finger, doll. You need to be prepared to take my
cock.”
He pumps his finger a few times, and my body relaxes, the stinging
sensation morphing into pleasure. He adds another and begins to scissor
them. I rock against his hand, trying to get him deeper when I know he’s
purposefully ignoring my prostate.
“One more, baby. Stay still. You can take it.”
My body freezes, and my stomach flips upside down at his encouraging
words. His dirty, sexy, bossy words.
Cal grabs my hip, holding me still as he slips his two fingers out and
presses into me with three.
“Steady,” he murmurs as he begins to fuck me with three thick fingers.
I hang my head, panting through the stretch.
A foil packet rips, and then the blunt head of Cal’s cock presses against
my opening.
It’s so big.
Probably the biggest I’ve had.
“Relax. You can take it. Just let me in.”
I take a deep breath and concentrate on relaxing. His cock slips past the
first ring of muscles, and I cry out. Cal pauses his intrusion and lets me
adjust to his size.
“Such a brave boy. So proud of you,” he murmurs, and my stomach
trips over itself, hungry with desire. I clench around Cal’s cockhead, and he
groans. “You’re so bloody tight, doll.”
“Okay. I’m ready,” I whisper, and Cal starts to fuck me with quick
pumps of his hips until he’s fully inside me.
“There we go,” Cal murmurs as he bottoms out, and it sounds like he’s
talking through a clenched jaw.
Cal strokes a hand down my back and pulls his hips back, slowly
pushing forward and filling me again.
He sets a fast, sensual rhythm, and it’s nothing like any sex I’ve had
before.
It’s so erotic.
I’m a squirming, writhing mess as he pokes and prods my prostate.
“I’m gonna come. Gonna come,” I chant repeatedly.
I need to come.
 “Settle,” Cal warns, grabbing hold of my hips to keep me from wiggling
around while impaled on his cock.
My hips attempt to rock, looking for friction, and his grip tightens
before letting go altogether.
Cal’s weight falls forward, collapsing on top of me.
He cages me in, forearms on either side of my head, hooking our feet
together.
I’m pinned down as Cal begins to fuck me with more and more force.
“You’re taking my cock so sweetly.”
He nips at my ear and sucks at my neck.
Holy fuck! Cal knows what he’s doing in bed.
He pulls out slowly, plunging forward with fast jabs, driving me wild.
He thrusts harder, pressing and digging into my guts. He makes sure I feel
him.
I’m groaning and crying and wailing. I don’t even know anymore. Sex
with Cal is an out-of-body experience.
He grinds his pelvis against my ass, teasing my smoothly waxed skin
and forcing his cock as far into me as possible.
He pulls back and shoves his cock in again, fucking me harder with
each thrust.
My head jerks with each pump of his hips.
Cal licks across my damp shoulders, and I’m sure I taste like sweat, salt,
and sex. It’s so fucking hot, my dick is oozing pre-cum, and my asshole
squeezes his length.
I reach back and clutch at his ass cheeks, pushing him into me and
demanding he go deeper.
“Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”
I arch for him on instinct, nearly yelling when he hits that sweet spot
again.
“Oh God, yes! Right there, Cal! Fuck me harder! Please!”
Cal takes my plea to heart and grabs onto both hips, slamming into me
even rougher. The wet slaps are so erotic, and I moan obscenely. But it
doesn’t matter. We fuck with abandon, knowing no one else can hear.
“Callum,” I breathe, bracing a hand against the headboard and hanging
my head as he fucks me relentlessly.
“That’s it. You’re doing so well. My brave boy. Touch yourself.”
I nearly whimper at the chance to come. It’s been days.
 I let go of the bedframe and grab my cock instead.
Cal’s thrusts press me into the soft bedding, and he grabs hold of the
headboard, using his leverage to get the perfect angle.
My cries are high-pitched as I come, the orgasm more intense than I’ve
ever experienced.
My asshole clenches around Cal, and he grunts as we go over the edge
together.
I’m blissed out and delirious when Cal carefully pulls his cock out of
me and ties the condom off.
I take a deep breath and collapse onto the bed. I’m unable to care that
I’m lying in a massive load of jizz.
I can’t move.
“Have you ever bust a nut so big, it’s life-changing?” I ask in all
seriousness.
Cal’s laughter pours out of him like the smooth bourbon he loves to
drink.
“I’m serious. I elevated to another plane of existence after that fuck.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re a mess,” Cal chastises, but I can hear
the smile in his tone.
The bed shakes, and then I’m rolled onto my back and scooped up. I let
Cal take care of me, laying my head against his chest.
“Can I have the purple bath bomb?” I mumble, getting sleepy. “There’s
only one left.”
“Of course, doll.” Cal kisses my hair. “Tai’s mother-in-law owns a
boutique on the bigger island. I’ll get one of every kind since you like them
so much.”
If I’m not careful, I may just fall in love before this vacation ends.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Callum

J ett Roman has burrowed his way under my hard-built walls in a matter
of days. He’s the last person someone like me should get involved
with, yet neither of us can stay away. He’s young, brash, wild, and
thrives in the limelight.
I am none of these things. And I prefer to hide away.
The stress from my businesses and projects can be overwhelming,
suffocating even. So I spend my life on this island to stay out of the media
and find as much peace and solitude in this crazy world as I can.
But I’ve never met anyone quite like Jett, and I can’t seem to stay away.
Beyond enjoying his company and our banter, I care for his health and well-
being. He’s also as stubborn as I am, and I know he’ll continue to avoid all
help offered on my island unless he’s guided by the right hand. My hand.
I need to call Dr. Otahi. He doesn’t accept new patients, tending to
oversee the facility as a whole. But he’ll never turn down a favor for his
favorite patient.
“Callum.” A soft-spoken voice murmurs my name in greeting.
“Manu, old friend, how are you?”
“I’m quite well, Cal. Can’t complain when I live in paradise, now can
I?”
“No, I suppose not, but you’ll find that if you think hard enough, there’s
always something to complain about, dear friend.”
Manu chuckles at that. “And how are you? You only seem to call me
when there’s a problem. I’m still waiting for my golf invitation on the big
island.”
I laugh heartily. “You know I’m not a golfer.”
“No, indeed you are not. Because you can’t let yourself have a hobby or
a break. It’s not good for you, Cal. You work too hard and too much.”
“Actually, that’s part of the reason I’m calling. I went on a jungle hike.
Signed up for the bloody Focus you’re always on me about. And I must say,
I quite enjoyed it.”
“You? Hiking on a planned outdoor activity?” he asks in disbelief.
I huff my annoyance into the phone. “Yes. And why not?”
“What was your motivation?”
“Fresh air and exercise.”
 “And?”
I sigh, “And. . . the other reason I’m calling you today. Jett Roman.”
“Am I supposed to know this name? You realize I’m worse than you
with recognizing celebrity status? I just can’t be bothered, Cal.”
I chuckle at his similar attitude. “He’s a movie star, twenty-one, and
completely and utterly exasperating.”
Manu belts out a loud laugh before calmly reverting to his normal, quiet
self. “I see.”
“He’s infuriating,” I retort.
“Mhmm.”
“Drives me crazy.”
“Clearly,” he responds cheekily, not a mean bone in his body.
“I took him to my favorite spot.”
“Oh. The cove. This is an interesting development, Cal.”
“I know. I even had Tai stock it to the brim. We had an amazing
afternoon, to say the least. One I won’t soon forget but most definitely
would like to repeat.”
“And you should. It was good for you, Callum. You work too hard,
friend. You know this.”
I hum my agreement. There’s no denying it. I run multiple billion-dollar
corporations—working too hard is a given.
“Outdoor activities reduce stress, build interpersonal communication
skills, self-confidence, and independence. The list goes on, Callum. This is
why we use it as an important therapy technique on the island. There are
plenty of fun options, and there’s absolutely no reason for you not to
partake. If you’ve found a friend to enjoy it with, even better. This is
fabulous news.”
“Yes. Jett is something special, but not without his issues. I was
ultimately calling because I’d like you to talk with him. Take him on as a
patient. Really give him a chance and show that you care. He could really
use another person like that in his life.”
“You know I’m not accepting any new patients now, Cal. I’m only
holding onto the troubled souls I can’t possibly part from, yourself
included.”
“Yes. Well, I’d like you to meet Jett and see if you’d consider letting
him become one of those fortunate souls.”
 There’s a long silence, and I check the phone to make sure we’re still
connected.
“I never ask you for anything, Manny, but this boy means something to
me. Truly.”
Another long pause, followed by a sigh, and I know I’ve won. And
when Manu Otahi comes on board, you know you’re getting the absolute
best care there is. Money can’t even buy it.
“Thank you, friend. I really mean that. Thank you.” Jett is incredible
whether he knows it or not, and I only want the absolute best for him.
“If I can support you by helping this boy, I suppose it’s like two birds
with one stone, and I should appreciate that fact.”
“So you’ll help him if he agrees?” I ask eagerly and unlike myself.
“I can see that your mental health and happiness are suddenly and
deeply connected to this young man’s. I will delicately pursue a connection
with him, hoping he chooses to open up to me on his own and that our
relationship flows naturally. I can only play off of his reactions. But you
know, Cal, if Jett agrees to become my patient, I cannot share a single word
of his progress with you. It would be unethical, not to mention illegal.”
“I completely understand, Manny. Of course. I don’t know everything
he’s been through, but I want him to have the best care. And that’s you. No
doubt about it.”
“Thank you, Cal. It means a lot that you think so highly of me. I will
take him under my wing and into my heart just as I have you.”
“Manny,” I say, deadpan. “You’re four years older than me. Not sure
that qualifies as being under your wing, but yes, you most definitely need to
take Jett under your wing. He can be under both of ours.”
“This boy is that special, hmm?” He sounds thoughtful, like he’s finally
absorbing and processing the magnitude of the situation for me.
“Yes. He really is.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him. I can email you my available
appointment times if that suits you?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“Can I ask that you wear one of your flowered shirts?” It’s a strange
question, but I know what Manny has in his closet, and it will only put Jett
at ease when he sits down to speak with the doctor.
“That is an odd request, Cal. However, I see no reason I cannot oblige.”
 I chuckle, thankful that he’s so open to appeasing me.
“That’s why you’re on my speed dial, dear friend. I know I can always
count on you. You’re too good to me.”
Now to figure out how to convince the one person who truly matters.
Jett.

LATER IN THE EVENING, I search for my little movie star, neighbor, and
now lover. Tonight may not be the right opportunity to bring up talk
therapy, but I need to find it soon. He doesn’t have all that much time left
here.
It’s nearing dinnertime, and we have plans to meet at his place for
dinner and dessert. Jett’s villa is unlocked, so I let myself in. I hear the
bathroom sink running through the open door, so I head that way.
I freeze in the door frame.
“What are you doing?” I ask, not intending for it to sound like such an
accusation.
Something drops and splashes into the sink, buzzing before Jett
frantically stops it. He spins around to face me, hands behind his back.
“Nothin’.”
“What’s in your hands?”
“Nothin’,” he repeats.
Sighing, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose before
popping them open again and zeroing in on the item in question.
“Doll, you’re standing in front of a mirror. I can see what you’re very
poorly attempting to hide behind your back.”
“Shit! Fuck! I. . . uh.” His eyes dart to the side.
I hold my palm open. “Hand it over.”
He shakes his head no and continues to hold the contraband behind his
back.
I tap my fingers into my open palm.
“Don’t make me count to three.”
Jett’s eyes bulge.
“You wouldn’t.”
“One.”
 “Callum!”
“Two.”
Jett growls and yells, “Fine!” before shoving a lavender butt plug into
my waiting hand.
I stare at it for a moment before my eyes flick to his, a slow grin tugging
at my lips. “And what’s this, doll?”
“Lucy got it for me on my twenty-first birthday, but I’ve never used it!
Swear to God!” he rushes out in a single breath.
Twenty-one. Bloody hell, why do I keep forgetting how ridiculously
young he is?
“Hmm,” is all I say, examining the short, bulbous plug with a rhinestone
flower on the base.
Cute.
“It has an app.”
My grin grows into a full-on Cheshire smile. “You dirty boy,” I murmur,
crowding him against the sink.
“I wasn’t going to try it without you,” he murmurs, and my stomach
flips like I’m twenty-one again. “It was going to be our dessert.”
With that whispered confession, I surge forward, sealing my lips to his
and making him whimper.
“How about we make it the appetizer?” I growl and open the top
drawer, grabbing the bottle of lube.
“Bend over and grab the counter.”
I use two fingers to open him up just enough, pressing the tapered end
of the plug to his hole. I push forward and ease back until his body pulls the
plug in, and Jett groans. The small, flat base sticks out of his asshole,
shining with a sparkly flower.
My cock pulses, hard as steel.
“Beautiful,” I murmur. “Absolutely exquisite.” I tap the end of the plug
and Jett moans.
“Do you have the app on your phone?” I ask, desperate to hear all the
depraved noises he’ll make.
“Yes,” he answers breathily.
He unlocks his phone and hands it over. I open the app, making a
mental note of the name so I can download it myself. I’m impressed by the
number of options available but ultimately set him up with a low, teasing
thrum because slow and steady wins the race.
 Jett moans and presses his forehead to the bathroom counter, still bent
over as I watch his asshole twitch with the initial vibrations. I grab the base
of the plug and tug on it, fucking him a bit.
He starts to stroke himself, but I swat his hand away. “Uh. Uh. We have
dinner to eat. This was just the appetizer, remember?”
Jett stands up straight, or as straight as he can with the fairly large butt
plug shoved up his behind. He’s breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat on
his forehead.
“I-I got us Caesar salads with grilled chicken.”
“Mmm. Sounds delicious. Thank you.”
Jett pulls his small shorts back up and hobbles into the dining room,
gritting his teeth as he leans over and stretches to uncover the food.
“Dig in,” he says, nearly panting, nostrils flaring.
“Lovely meal, doll.” I sit down and watch intently and maybe slightly
sadistically as Jett very gently takes his seat, grimacing slightly.
We eat, the food fresh and tasty, but my mind can’t stop focusing on the
captivating boy across from me.
Every time he reaches for a drink, I hear a small intake of breath or a
quiet moan, sometimes seeing a grimace.
It’s pretty twisted how much satisfaction this brings me.
I discreetly slip my phone out under the table, having downloaded the
app without his knowledge, and turn up the strength of the vibrations,
making Jett yelp and nearly spill his water.
“That’s it. I’m full. Stuffed. Can’t eat another bite!” Jett pushes his
nearly full plate away and awkwardly stands up.
“Callum. I-I need to come now. T-this is torture.”
“Or is it bliss? Hmm? How much stronger was your orgasm when you
held out last time? Should we not see how long you can make it?”
“No! No, we should not. I n-need to come. Now, Callum,” Jett
demands, forehead sweaty, arms folded tightly across his chest, breaths
sawing in and out of him like he just ran a marathon.
“Alright, then. On the bed. Ass up.”
Jett scurries away, and I chuckle, using the app and switching the plug
to a start-and-stop pattern, making him cry out.
Jett is on the bed, assuming the position. The base of the plug taunts me
with its sparkly design, nestled between two deliciously tan ass cheeks.
 I want to bite them, pull the toy out by my teeth like a wild animal. But
I have sense, and I do not. Instead, I just run my hand along his smooth
bottom, appreciating his supple skin and youthful physique.
I pull on the plug, and his body grips back.
Dear God, his ass is tight.
I press my palm against the base of my hard cock, staving off my
impending pleasure.
I try again, twisting and tugging on the butt plug until his ass finally
gives in, releasing the vibrating purple toy.
“Oh! Oh! Fuck! Cal, pleeease.”
He grips the sheets with white knuckles, his cock straining and ass
pulsing.
“I-I need. . . something, Cal. I need you.”
I quickly roll on one of the condoms I grabbed from the bathroom
drawer, lining up and pushing in. His hole doesn’t resist as I fill him in one
single thrust.
“Ungh!”
He’s panting heavily, head hanging down.
“C-can I touch myself?”
“Not yet.”
“Calluuum,” he whines as his asshole is continually punched by my
long, hard thrusts.
“Oh God! There! Pleeease keep going, Callum. P-please.”
I continue fucking him. His begging only spurs me on to spear my cock
deeper into him. Harder.
Longer.
“Do. Not. Come,” I demand, gritting the harsh words between clenched
teeth. I grind the full length of my cock into him, pulling his hips back to
force myself in farther.
“Ohhhhh. Yess! There! Fuck me there, Callum!” He’s writhing and
grinding his ass against me as vocal as ever.
“Fuck!”
Thrust.
“Me.”
Thrust.
“There!”
 I slam into him again and again until we’re both falling over the edge,
climaxing in a roar and a scream. Together.
He’s whimpering and possibly crying, the release overwhelming.
It’s understandable.
“Gorgeous,” I tell him. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”
This boy is stunning. And I don’t think I could possibly let him go.
Ever.
Jett Roman is mine.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jett

A fter that amazing sex, we cuddle in bed, talking more about my

career and life. And I actually agree to speak to Cal’s therapist friend.
I blame it on the life-changing, mind-melting orgasm he gave me. I
never would have agreed to therapy so easily before this island, before Cal.
He booked an appointment for me the very next day. Like a parent would.
Well, any good parent. Not mine.
I didn’t need him to; I’m not a child. But something about how he cared
enough to do that stopped my protests.
I do appreciate the ride, though. We’re on our way to the recovery
center, the mental health wing where Dr. Otahi’s office is.
Cal has the top down on his Cadillac, and we’re cruising. The wind
blows my brown locks everywhere, and the sun shines brightly on my face.
Cal insisted on setting my appointment and driving and waiting for me. I
can’t act like I don’t want him to. I really want his support. And he seems to
want to take care of me.
I’ve never had that, and I think I might just let him.
The scenery is gorgeous as we travel higher into the mountains, where it
becomes more secluded. The palms are taller and thicker, but we easily cut
through them as we drive up the winding mountain road.
And then I see it, a small mound covered in green grass and colorful
hydrangeas. The sign on top reads Black Diamond Recovery Center, and I
swallow thickly, the nerves kicking up a notch. My knee bounces even
more now.
Noticeably.
Cal reaches over and rests his big hand on top of my thigh. “Relax,” he
murmurs. “I’ll be right there in the waiting room. . . waiting.”
I snort at his attempt to make me smile. It worked. I do feel better.
“Manu—I mean, Dr. Otahi—is a great man. He’s quiet and listens. I
think you need that. You can’t have a therapist as. . .” He taps his chin, deep
in thought. “As boisterous as you.”
“Ha. Ha. Funny. I am not boisterous.” I narrow my eyes on him. “Like
I’m a friggin’ squirrel!”
“You do like to gather nuts.”
 There’s a pause, a drawn-out silence, as Cal continues to drive up the
curving jungle road like he didn’t just call me a boisterous, nut-gathering
squirrel!
“Callum Ryan!” I gasp in mock outrage. “That was a brilliant
comeback, sir.” I emphasize the word brilliant with a slight British accent
and slide his hand up to my crotch.
“Got me horny.”
Cal chuckles and gives me a quick squeeze, letting go as he pulls into
the recovery center parking lot.
This is it. There’s no going back. I’m really speaking to a therapist. My
stomach drops, and my boner deflates. Nerves dance like tiny pinpricks
inside my stomach, making me uneasy and nauseous. I didn’t eat anything
this morning, which doesn’t help the situation either.
I close my eyes and take a ridiculously deep breath. When I open them,
Cal is peering down at me with concern. He reaches out and traces the side
of my face with his fingertips.
“You’ll be alright. Talk about whatever you want, doll. As big or as
little. Don’t be afraid. I’ll be waiting there.”
He points to an area with giant glass windows and a back deck with a
few umbrella tables.
My appointment is an hour long, so I won’t have time to fully dive into
my mommy issues. And that may not be appropriate to talk about in our
first session anyway.
I don’t know!
What do you tell a therapist you’re meeting for the first time?
Stupid anxiety! It takes over my thoughts and pushes me to worry about
everything.
I just need to talk to the friggin’ doctor and not care what comes out of
my mouth.
Cal squeezes my leg in reassurance. “As I’ve said already, Manu is a
wonderful psychologist, and I hope you feel comfortable enough to open
up.”
“We’ll see,” I mumble.
Cal smooths my shirt collar and brushes his hand down the front of my
pale yellow and green shirt with pineapples all over it.
“You look positively edible.”
I snort and roll my eyes, chuckling at his corny come-on.
 “How do you have all the men and women of the world falling at your
feet, Callum Ryan? You are such a dweeb.”
“I haven’t a clue what that is. However, I assure you I am certainly not
this dweeb you speak of.”
I burst out laughing at hearing his clipped British accent say the word
dweeb.
Tension and stress melt away, and a big smile forms on my face. I don’t
feel as nervous anymore.
I glance over at Cal, who’s chuckling quietly, a knowing sparkle in his
gray eyes and a warm smile on his lips.
“You did that on purpose,” I accuse.
“Did what?”
“Distracted me with your silly British humor.”
“Hmm.”
“See? You did!”
“And did it not work?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Yeah. It did.”
He squeezes my leg once more before getting out of the car. “Well, then.
Let’s not be late.”

“WHOA! DUDE! YOUR SHIRT!” I clear my throat and stick my hand out
in greeting. “I mean, good morning Dr. Otahi. It’s nice to meet you, and I
really love your shirt.”
He’s wearing an awesome flowered button-up with beautiful shades of
pink and purple in the background, almost resembling a sunset.
I wish I had it.
“Good morning, Mr. Roman. Please, have a seat.”
The doctor smiles kindly at me, even after my obnoxious outburst. He
has dark hair pulled into a low ponytail and copper skin. He’s pretty
attractive and seems to be Cal’s age. I swallow the jealousy simmering in
my gut. It’s not necessary.
I sit on the comfortable-looking rattan couch. The cushions are
upholstered with brightly colored tropical fabric that clashes horribly with
my outfit. Dr. Otahi sits in a matching chair in front of me, clashing as well.
 I’m facing a window, but my heart rate kicks up, and my brain takes
note of the enclosed space.
“Let’s start with some basics, seeing as how this is your Intake
Session.”
I jump out of my seat and shout, “Intake?!”
I am absolutely furious. Livid!
How could Cal do this to me? Betray me?
And after all this time? Things have been going so well between us.
My heart plummets, landing on the cold tile floor and shattering on
impact.
Dr. Otahi hops up as well, holding his hands out in front of him. “No,
no. You misunderstand me, Mr. Roman. That is simply what we call your
first therapy session. You will not be staying here. Please calm down. I
apologize for the misunderstanding. Is it okay if we continue?”
“Oh. I see.” I brush the invisible lint off my shorts. “Yeah. We’re cool.”
I sit back down, and the couch creaks. I feel pretty embarrassed but
swallow my pride and talk to the kind doctor instead of bolting.
Of course Cal didn’t betray me or set me up. I’m ashamed I even
questioned him.
Dr. Otahi hands me a tablet. “There are a few forms you will need to fill
out before we start, including informed consent, mental health history, and
medical history.”
He asks me what I assume are all the standard questions, including why
I’m here and what I hope to get out of it.
The real doozy hits when he asks how my relationship with my family
is.
“Honestly, my relationship with my parents sucks but especially with
my mother. I really hate her, and there’s nothing else to say.”
“And if you don’t have a positive relationship with your parents, I’m
guessing you do not lean on them for anything.”
“No. Never,” I say with more venom than I mean.
The doctor scribbles something down on his notepad, and my back
stiffens.
“Do you have any supportive people in your life?”
My mind instantly darts to Cal. I know this friendship or whatever is
new, but he’s reliable and strong. A rock. He’s never let me down or lied to
me.
 And Zander’s betrayal is unforgivable.
“Yeah. I do. Cal.” I smile just thinking about his serious face and dry
humor. “And my best friend, Lucy.”
The doctor hums and scribbles more on his paper. I glance up at the
clock. It’s only been fifteen minutes. That means I still have forty-five left
in this tiny room with only one small window.
The ceiling fan swirls around and around, but it’s on low. Sweat drips
down my temple, and I slip my button-up off so I’m only in a gray tank,
showing off how much my body is perspiring.
“Is it hot in here? I. . . I’m not sure I can stay in this room any longer.”
“Are you feeling claustrophobic?”
I nod vehemently, my breathing picking up and impairing my ability to
speak.
“We can finish our meeting outside. Follow me.”
We rush out of the room, and Cal instantly stands up, concern slashed
across his handsome features. “What’s wrong?” he demands. Eyes scanning
my body for injury.
The doctor isn’t allowed to speak about my issues, and my breathing
has settled enough to talk, so I let Cal know so he doesn’t need to worry
about me. As I just told the doctor, he’s a big support person in my life. I
can’t even think about leaving this island. Now is not the time.
“I get claustrophobic,” I tell Cal. “Just needed some fresh air. We’re
going to finish the session outside.”
“Okay,” Cal says slowly. “Take it easy, doll. There’s no need to jump
into the deep end on your first appointment.”
“I won’t. I’m fine. Promise.”
Cal eyes me, then his friend, before leaning in and surprising me with a
quick peck on the lips.
Oh my God! He just claimed me in front of my therapist! I’m sure Dr.
Otahi is not the type of guy to spread gossip around the island, but dang, I
wish he was!
I want everyone to know that Callum Ryan is mine.
Probably.
“Go finish strong,” he encourages in a whisper. “You’re such a brave
boy.”
I whimper and rush after Dr. Otahi before he disappears out of the front
doors and leaves me behind.
 I catch his small frame and vibrant shirt turning the corner and
disappearing behind a hedge.
Oh, this better not be a fucking maze. I am so not prepared.
“Follow along, Mr. Roman!” his soft voice calls out. I jog after him,
turning the corner to a beautiful courtyard full of lush flowers and a small
man-made waterfall.
Dr. Otahi takes us to a bench under a massive tree, providing much-
needed shade. The cool ocean breeze whips around, and I take a deep
breath, feeling much more comfortable out here.
“I suppose I need to explain that little freakout,” I say reluctantly.
“Only if you want to. You don’t have to do anything. This is all
voluntary. To help you.”
“You won’t tell Cal?”
It’ll only look pathetic.
“No. Never. Everything you tell me is purely confidential.”
I just blurt it out. All of it. I’ve never told another soul, but I tell this
man I just met.
“One time, my mom locked me in a coat closet and forced me to
memorize my lines for this popular kid’s show. I wasn’t allowed any food,
only water, and she gave me a bucket to pee in. She didn’t let me out until I
could perfectly recite every line. It was two days. I still didn’t get the part.”
I laugh sardonically. “Ironic, huh?”
“And your father? Was he involved?”
“No, he wasn’t. But my dad never believed me. He was always away on
business and hardly came home. Probably because his wife is so horrible.
But he’s in denial when it comes to her. He trusts my mom to run the
household. He really shouldn’t.”
My dad is a soft, pushover of a man, although rich and successful in his
own right. Mom came from nothing and didn’t go to college. She married
up and now forces her desire for success onto me. I never even wanted to
take acting lessons. I wanted to play soccer.
“What happened after you didn’t get the role?” Dr. Otahi asks.
“She found another audition and forced me to memorize the lines all
over again.”
“In the closet, without basic human rights?” the doctor asks matter-of-
factly, but I can see the fire blazing in his eyes at my sob story.
 “No. I was just in the closet that one time. But she found other ways to
punish me, like grounding me when I got older. Or not letting me go to my
own movie premiere after-party. Things like that. Just to exercise her
pathetic control over me.”
All of my money went into her accounts until I turned eighteen. Then
she negotiated my contract to give herself ten percent of all my acting
income as my agent, while Briggs got fifteen as my manager.
Now, Briggs gets twenty-five percent as my manager and agent, and she
gets nothing. Because she does nothing. It’s simple math.
My mother has always been a greedy, lazy, crazy bitch.
“And you’ve been claustrophobic ever since the closet incident? How
does traveling work?”
“Pretty much, yeah. And the commercial plane over here was okay, but
the small private plane was terrifying.” I sigh, defeated. “I just deal.”
“There are medications I can prescribe to help with the anxiety of flying
or any other claustrophobia-inducing events, Mr. Roman.”
“There are?”
I almost feel dumb for not getting help sooner.
“Yes. And therapy will help too. Talking out loud and releasing long,
tucked-away emotions do wonders for the soul. As does the ocean.” He
smiles warmly at that.
A small ding goes off on his smartwatch. “Well, that’s all the time we
have for today, but if you see the receptionist, she’ll set you up with another
appointment. How about next week, same day and time?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Um. I’m not sure if I’ll still be here.”
I’m frustrated, not wanting to start over and talk to someone new back
in California.
I want to stay here at Black Diamond for so many reasons.
“Well, regardless, I’d advise you to squeeze in one more outdoor Focus.
From what Cal told me, you both seemed to release a lot of tension during
your hike and enjoyed yourselves. I told him to go as well. Is there anything
in particular you have your heart set on?”
“Snorkeling.”
“Ah. Nice choice. I’m sure Cal has it, but let me get you Luna’s number.
She’s the concierge who facilitates hikes, picnics, and any other outdoor
activity. Lovely girl.”
Dr. Otahi scribbles on a piece of paper and tears it off for me.
 “Make sure you call right away and have her schedule snorkeling for
two. You don’t want to miss the coral reefs before you leave. They’re
spectacular.” His smile is polite and helpful.
“Let us head back, Mr. Roman. I’m pretty certain there’s a brooding,
pacing Englishman inside those doors that needs to make sure you are
alright with his own two eyes.” He chuckles warmly, and I giggle at the
mental image. It’s a new feeling to have someone care so deeply. And I’m
completely ready to stake my claim.
Cal is mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jett

“I ’m glad everything went well. Just make sure you schedule your
sessions outdoors from now on,” Cal says reasonably from his spot
next to me, lounging with his arms behind his head and his eyes
closed.
I stare at the strong, sensual lines of his jaw and neck, his five-o'clock
shadow growing thicker. He’s ruggedly handsome, and I’m not sure how I
got so lucky as to get his attention.
My dick starts to fill, testing the constraints of my baby blue swim
trunks.
“I’m not sure they do that back in the States,” I mumble around a
mouthful of sunflower seeds. I spit the tiny shells out onto Cal’s deck.
They’ll wash away with the next rain storm. I’m sure of it.
Thinking about returning home to California is depressing. I reach into
my bag and grab another handful of sunflower seeds to shove into my
mouth. I like to suck all the salt off first.
I make sucking noises, crunching noises, and, finally, spitting noises
with each handful. I have to admit it’s an annoying process.
“Bloody hell! Would you stop? That’s disgusting. Spitting on my deck
like that.” Cal sits up and eyes my mess of spit and half-chewed-up
sunflower seed shells.
“I was just having a snack.” I try to defend myself. But, yeah, okay. It’s
gross.
“Sorry,” I murmur, embarrassed that I didn’t just get a plastic cup to spit
them into.
“They make sunflower kernels without the shell. Simple to eat.”
“Yeah, but I like to suck on them. The seeds are salty.”
There’s a long silence, only the seagulls cawing as we process my
words and their innuendo.
I burst out laughing when my brain catches up, but Cal doesn’t seem
amused. I grab my fuzzy navel and chug the rest before tossing the ice over
the railing and into the ocean. I scoop up pool water, rinsing the seeds away.
I have to make three trips until they disperse over the edge of the deck and
into the ocean.
 “There. No harm no foul.” Now that the mess is gone, I put my bag of
seeds back into my beach bag. I’ll eat them on my own friggin’ deck.
“If you want something to suck, doll, you just need ask.”
Oh God. My body heats, which is dangerous considering it’s already a
hundred degrees out here. We haven’t messed around since we had sex last,
and I’ve been ready and willing to do anything.
“Yeah? Okay,” I say softly, sitting down and scooting to the edge of my
lounge chair in front of him.
“Ask,” he demands in a stern voice.
“W-what?” My brain freezes even though my body is nearing
combustion levels.
“Ask me if you can suck my cock.”
Oh sweet baby Jesus.
This man. This friggin’ man is going to kill me.
My lips obey the command, my mouth begging for a taste.
“Can I suck your cock, Callum? Please,” I say breathlessly.
“You may. Let’s get inside, out of this heat,” Cal says, sweat dripping
down his tanned, toned body. I lick my lips, wanting a taste.
I jump up, nearly stumbling over the chair leg in my haste to get to the
bedroom.
Cal follows behind me, chuckling at my clear enthusiasm.

I LICK Cal’s cock ever so slightly, barely teasing him. We’re both naked in
his bed, our skin glowing from the sun.
“Jett. . .” Callum growls out. “Suck my cock properly. Like you
begged.”
I give him another light stroke of my tongue, licking at his slit but not
putting my mouth around him yet.
I’m asking for a punishment. I know it.
It’s because I want him to lose control again. To do whatever he wants.
Before I process what’s happening, Cal picks me up under my arms and
deposits me horizontally on his bed.
He curls a finger under my chin, tilting my head back and over the edge
of the bed until I’m looking upside down at his cock. It looks so massive
from this angle. I tilt my head back even further and Spiderman-kiss Cal’s
dick.
He places one knee on the bed and feeds me his length.
“That’s it. Suck me.”
This is so hot. I’m desperate and needy, swallowing around his length as
he fucks my throat.
This is what I wanted. For him to let loose and fully own me.
Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth as he fucks it, and I can’t
breathe until Cal pulls back and allows me oxygen.
He’s ruthless as he plunders my mouth once again.
“I’m going to come,” Cal grits, pulling his cock from my lips.
“Suck on my balls.”
Cal strokes himself while I gently suck his balls into my mouth one by
one, massaging them with my tongue.
“Mmm. Yes. That’s nice,” Cal moans, and I wish I could see the
pleasure on his face right now.
I release his balls from my mouth, and Cal steps away, helping to lift
my shoulders.
“Sit up now, doll. You did so well. Such a good boy.”
I whimper at his words, and all the blood rushes to my head. My vision
goes dark momentarily, and my body wavers.
Cal’s grip on my shoulders tightens.
“I got you. You’re alright. Just close your eyes until your body adjusts
to being upright once again.”
I listen to Cal, closing my eyes and letting him steer me until I’m
leaning against a mountain of pillows at the top of the bed.
“I’ll be right back.”
I open my eyes moments later when I feel the bed move with Cal’s
return.
He has a smirk on his lips and a condom between his fingers.
I chew on my bottom lip, eyes half-lidded. I nod my consent, and Cal’s
grin turns positively wicked.
He tosses the condom to the bed.
“Pull your knees back for me, doll.”
I ignore the hint of embarrassment and hook my hands behind my
knees, pulling them back and exposing my asshole to Cal.
 “Further,” he demands, crawling forward on his knees and pushing my
legs back until I feel a slight burn from the stretch.
“Hold it.”
I hear the snick of a cap, and then Cal’s cool fingers are probing at my
entrance, rubbing and massaging.
“Oh God, yes. More.”
I’m needy and greedy; I never claimed to be anything different.
Cal pushes a finger into me, then two, pumping them until he gets deep
enough to graze that sweet spot. I cry out, clamping down on Cal’s fingers.
He scissors them, opening me up and loosening my muscle to take his cock.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I chant, and Cal slips his fingers free, realizing I’m
on the verge of coming.
“Just stick it in already. Give it to me,” I demand, feeling impatient and
horny.
Cal chuckles sinisterly, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate.
He rips the condom packet open and rolls it on, looking impossibly sexy
as he does so. I can’t wait to feel his cock bare inside me. We just need to
have a talk first.
Cal presses the blunt head of his cock up to my hole, starting to slowly
fuck me until I’m nearly begging, and my body pulls him in.
“That’s it. That’s a good boy. Take it,” Cal croons as he slowly presses
his full length into me until he bottoms out. “Take all of me.”
I whimper and moan, nearly crying at the way his cock feels filling me
up completely.
Cal takes my legs and rests them on his shoulders.
“Ready?” he asks, and all I can do is nod when I’m so stuffed full of his
cock.
He smirks, knowing this.
“Keep your eyes on me, doll. Don’t close them. I want to see the pain
and pleasure shining through.” He runs his hand along the side of my face.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs before bracing his hands on the bed and leaning
forward, stretching me.
He pulls his hips back, only leaving the head in, and surges forward. My
eyes shut briefly on instinct and from the sheer force behind his thrust.
“Eyes open.”
I listen, staring at Cal intently and whimpering as he sets a punishing
pace, fucking me relentlessly. Sweat drips down his temple and lands on my
chest. He’s so sexy, working up a sweat, fucking me. Using my body.
“Oh God. Fuck me harder, Cal. Use me.” I can’t stop the dirty words
pouring from my lips.
Cal growls like an animal and nearly folds me in half, driving his cock
into me with deep, hard thrusts.
“Ungh! Oh fuck!” It feels like he’s nailing my prostate and pressing on
my bladder all at once. My cock rubs against his abs as it bounces in
between us.
“I’m gonna come,” I moan, near delirium. “I’m gonna fucking come.”
My cock spurts between us, coming all over Cal’s stomach.
Cal grunts as he surges forward two more times before burying himself
as deep as he can go, his cock pulsing inside of me as his orgasm rocks
through him.
Cal leans down and kisses me on the forehead.
“Lovely. Absolutely lovely.”
Then he pulls out and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me staring
after his strong glutes as my heart races from the amazing sex and soft,
unexpected words.
That was mind-blowing, life-altering, and I don’t even want to think
about going back to the real world as my phone buzzes across the room,
pulling me from my haze of bliss.
I wrap the sheet around my waist and hurry to the dresser, grabbing my
phone from the top.
Zander.
I end the call.
No friggin’ thank you.
“Who was it, doll?” Cal asks as he saunters out of the bathroom, still
nude. My eyes travel down his sculpted body.
“No one important.”
Cal eyes me suspiciously, and I know he needs more.
“Okay, fine. It was Zander. But I have nothing to say to him.”
“Fair enough. Now come back to my bed. I wasn’t finished with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jett

C al’s laptop is open. Wide friggin’ open.

And it’s practically purring at me to touch it. To fondle its screen
and press its keys. Trail my fingers along the touchpad. The damn
thing is begging for it.
I glance at the closed bathroom door and chew on my bottom lip. Cal
went in there to wash the just fucked look off his face before he logged on
for a video meeting. And the shower just turned on, so I should have a good
fifteen minutes. Minimum.
He never really talks about what he does for a living, and I’m too damn
curious for my own good. It’s too tempting not to poke around when there’s
practically an open invitation.
He should have known to sign out. Shut it down. Lock it. Something.
Anything.
It’s truly his own fault.
Although he is an old man, and they can’t even remember their own
phone number half the time.
I sit in the desk chair, wiggling my fingers in anticipation, ready to do
some digging. Some real investigating. Maybe I’ll discover the newest
design he’s working on. A top secret government facility even!
However, his most private information seems to be left open on a
minimized browser tab. Waiting for anyone’s prying eyes.
Cal’s bank account.
I’m instantly uncomfortable, and it doesn’t feel right to poke around or
even look, so I go to minimize the window again. My eyes do a double-take
at the number of digits I see in his available balance.
No fucking way.
That can’t possibly be right!
“You nosey little snoop,” Cal accuses behind me in a clipped British
accent. Cold and aloof.
I nearly jump out of my skin, spinning around in the chair and probably
looking as guilty as I feel.
“You left it open. I didn’t mean to snoop.”
“Doll, you’re sitting in my chair, peering at the screen quite intently.
Snooping.”
 I hop up, no longer sitting in his chair, as if that would make any sort of
difference.
“Yeah. Okay. So what? I looked! But you’ve been lying to me!”
“How was I lying?” He folds his arms across his chest, looking every
bit the in-charge adult that he is.
Gah! Sexy and exasperating.
“You didn’t tell me you’re a billionaire!”
I run my hands through my dark hair, messing it up even more than Cal
did when he was fucking me not even thirty minutes ago.
“I don’t see how my personal finances are any of your business, Jett.”
His eyes swirl and seethe like the flash thunderstorms in the jungle. His
nostrils flare as he breathes deeply, yet he still stands there calmly. Arms
crossed and super intense.
He’s getting angry in that controlled sorta way, and I’m wondering if
maybe I like it. Poking the bear.
“My grandmother always warned me to never trust a man with two first
names, and I’m starting to believe it, Callum Ryan!”
“And do you not have two first names as well, hmm? Jett Roman,” he’s
quick to retort. “Suppose I can’t trust you either, then.”
“I. . . ”
Oh shit! I do!
I guess.
“Well. My actual last name is Romano. So that’s probably why
Grandma Rhonda said that.”
But I accidentally snooped on a more serious level than I meant to when
I discovered his true identity as Cal the billionaire, so I guess we’re both
liars.
“What are you doing living in this tiny bungalow on the beach?”
He raises a brow, glancing at the glass viewing window on the floor and
the turquoise ocean just beyond the infinity pool.
“Well, yeah. It’s hella luxurious, but you’re a billionaire, Cal. Shouldn’t
you be living in a cliffside mansion with twenty bathrooms and as many
children as your trophy wife can push out?”
Callum grinds his molars like he’s attempting to stop himself from
saying something snarky. Or maybe from pulling me across his knee again.
“What? What else is there, Cal?” I run my hand through my hair
roughly. “Just spit it out—”
 “I live here because I own the island.”
“No. Craig and Dexter Diamond own Black Diamond. I heard the
spiel.”
Why would he lie?
“Yes, doll. But I own the entire Windward Islands. They own the resort
and the rehab. I’m just a silent investor. And I expect you to keep all of this
between us. You’ll need to sign an NDA now.”
He pulls out his phone, thumbs moving quickly.
“Sent. Have your lawyer look it over. Although it’s pretty standard.”
My mouth drops open.
Holy shit.
He’s fucking serious.
He actually owns an entire chain of islands and probably more. And he
speaks about it so friggin’ casually. Like it was okay to keep all this from
me.
“Cal, you need to buy me a boat and a fur coat.” He has to make it up to
me. There’s no other option. Extravagant gifts are required.
“What?” he chuckles, brushing me off. “A fur coat would be ridiculous
in this weather. You’d have a heat stroke.”
I huff, rolling my eyes. “For an Alaskan cruise or helicopter ride to a
glacier. Duh.”
That might be letting him off too easily, though. He should have told me
who he is.
“I’m annoyed by your lies,” I tell him flatly, learning to be vocal and
speak my truth. I’ve more than earned it. “Make that a Bentley and a boat,
actually. I deserve it, and I’m sure that’s chump change to you anyway.”
“The bossy bit needs to wind back, Mr. Roman. You’re being a brat
again.”
I fold my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes. “A Bentley and a
boat,” I repeat, not caring how demanding I sound. “We can discuss which
model and size later.”
Cal stares at me. I stare back, unwilling to yield to him. I love our little
staring matches.
“For fuck’s sake. Don’t be childish, Jett.”
“Don’t call me childish.” I take a big step toward him.
He takes one toward me until he’s looking down his nose at me.
 “You’re being bloody childish. I will not cave to such unreasonable
demands. You’re an ungrateful, spoiled brat.”
How dare he!
I raise my hand, ready to slap him, but he catches my wrist instead,
holding it out to the side.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growls.
“I’ve worked for everything I have! No one has given me a goddamn
thing! Not even as a child, so don’t you ever call me that again!”
I’m seething.
“Calm down, doll.”
“No! I will not!”
I attempt to wrestle my arm away, but Cal squeezes me tighter.
“Let. Go.” I yank hard.
“No. Calm down before you hurt yourself.”
I don’t listen and start tugging harder, attempting to wrench my wrist
from his grasp.
Cal takes me to the ground and straddles my butt, pinning my arms
behind my back.
“Please, doll. Relax.”
“Argh! Cal, I hate you! Get off me! Now!”
He immediately hops up, hurt flashing in his bright gray eyes, but I
don’t care. We’re both hurt right now.
I storm away, needing a drink or ten at the bar. I hope it’s not too late
because if it’s closed, I’m breaking in for some booze. Holden wouldn’t be
too mad. Probably.

OF FREAKIN’ course, the bar is closed.

“Stupid Holden,” I mumble, sniffling the snot slowly leaking out. That’s
what I’d call it. I’m not crying, per se. More like leaking.
I feel like I was falling in love with a completely different person. A
wealthy, island guy that likes to stay out of the limelight. Not a billionaire!
Oh my God! I had a billionaire’s cock in my ass. Fucking me.
My dick throbs at the memory, even though I’m so damned mad at him!
 I sneak around the bar, heading straight for the employee entrance and
down the dark hallway to the supply closet where I know they keep the
bubbly. Rosé—the good stuff. The expensive stuff. If this is Cal’s island, I’m
sure he can afford a bottle or three going missing.
Whatever.
I shove aside the cleaning cart full of mops and brooms, grunting at the
effort, intent on getting to the alcohol. I yank the door open carelessly,
knocking into all the supplies I pushed out of the way.
As soon as I slip inside, the door slams shut behind me, and a loud
clatter rings out on the other side. My shoulders dart up to my ears, cringing
at the loud sound and inevitable mess beyond.
I use my phone as a flashlight and check my surroundings.
Lots and lots of rosé. Really, really expensive rosé. I grab a bottle and
stuff it into the front of my underwear, then take one in each hand.
I use my elbow to press down on the doorknob and push it open, but it
doesn’t budge.
Shit.
I set the bottles down and take the one out of my pants. I try the door
with both hands, even putting my shoulder and weight into it, but it doesn’t
budge.
“Oh God! I’m trapped!” I shout out loud to no one.
I can’t stay locked in here until morning. I won’t make it. The oxygen is
already running out, and I hate tiny spaces. Especially closets!
Fuck!
I’m going to die. Waste away. Starve to death. No one will find me until
someone requests a bottle of rosé or needs a broom. What if it’s days? Or
even weeks?
By then, I’ll be a skeleton—no meat left, just bone.
I close my eyes, trying to get my breathing under control.
It doesn’t work. It’s too small and dark here.
Memories try to push their way to the surface. Bad ones. Ones I literally
just talked about in therapy and most definitely do not want to relive.
My breathing picks up. I’m on the verge of hysteria, and my phone is
nearly dead.
I hold it up, praying that I can get reception here.
Fuck! One bar!
 It’s not going to work, but I try anyway, using precious battery power
and attempting to call Cal, but of course, it doesn’t go through.
Goddammit. Not good. This is so not good.
I roughly comb my fingers through my hair, squinting into the darkness
and checking out my surroundings. There’s nothing except boxes of bubbly,
brooms, and a half-filled supply shelf full of toilet paper.
I try ramming my shoulder into the door one last time before giving up,
resigned to my fate of living out my final days trapped in this closet and
slowly wasting away. And now my shoulder throbs, a dull ache forming at
the socket and along the bone.
I pop open a bottle of rosé and drink it warm. I may as well get drunk
because if I sit here in the dark and silence, just waiting to be rescued, I
might attempt to claw my way out.
When three-fourths of the bottle is gone, I start to get some wild ideas
about how to escape this place, starting with the metal storage rack in front
of me.
Would I get better reception if I climbed to the top?
It’s worth a shot because I didn’t think things through, consuming an
entire bottle of rosé by myself like that. I’m starting to need the bathroom,
which, coupled with my panic, is not a good combination.
The shelving unit rattles as I put one foot on the first shelf, testing the
integrity. It seems sturdy enough, at least for my weight, so I climb higher,
checking my phone as I go.
I sit cross-legged on the very top, out of breath, full of piss, and on the
verge of a major panic attack.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before checking my service.
Oh thank fuck.
Two bars. Please, God. It has to work!
And if it doesn’t, my next step will be to try and hoist myself up into the
ceiling and crawl to freedom. But I’d rather wait for a knight in shining
armor, even if that means spending more time trapped here.
There’s only one option, no matter how mad I am at him. And even if
he’s the reason I’m in this situation in the first place!
The phone crackles as it rings, the reception enough to connect but still
terrible.
Oh God, what if he doesn’t answer? Who else would I call? Are there
even emergency services on a private island?
 He finally answers between all the crackling and ringing. “Doll. Where
are you?”
I whimper at the sound of my nickname, relief flooding my veins. I
need him.
“Cal. Help me. Please.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Callum

I can’t find him. Can’t find Jett anywhere.

I’m a fool to leave my laptop open, thinking the little brat wouldn’t
go snooping. Not that I have anything truly nefarious to hide. It’s more
about the fact that he doesn’t know I’m a billionaire who owns the entire
bloody island and more.
I know his mind spiraled, thinking the absolute worst scenarios. In
reality, I just wanted him to like me for who I really am—a thirty-eight-
year-old beach bum who wishes he knew how to surf and loves to build
things.
But now he’s run off, and it’s all my fault.
The beach is dark, and the bars are closed, but anyone who knows Jett
knows that wouldn’t stop him from getting what he wants. He’s stubborn
and determined. Part of what I find so charming, so alluring. The fight. The
pushback.
I want to tie him up, spank him, and shove my cock so far up his ass
he’s speechless. But right now, I just want to hug him and tell him I’m
sorry. I truly never meant to be deceitful.
He ran off a couple hours ago, and I went in search of him shortly after
with no success. Things are too quiet around here without his larger-than-
life personality, and it’s made me realize I don’t like the solitude as much as
I thought I did.
Jett tends to stay with me instead of sleeping in his own villa most of
the time, and I can admit how much I enjoy having someone to sleep next
to. A small, firm body to curl around and rub my morning wood against.
I’m not only missing his presence in my bed, but I’m also starting to get
worried. It’s too late for him to roam the beaches or jungle alone.
I’m pathetically sitting in the sand, trying to think of where he could
have possibly gone or if he went to someone else in his anger. Someone like
Chase or even Holden.
“No. No, he wouldn’t do that,” I say out loud. The silver moonlight
shines down and reflects off of the two hundred thousand dollar watch I
treated myself to last year. The most expensive one I own.
But fuck it. Fuck it all.
Money means nothing to me without my happiness.
 I take a page from the Jett Roman handbook, slip the disgusting display
of wealth off my wrist, stand up, and chuck it as far into the ocean as I
possibly can.
I don’t want it. Any of it. I just want my doll.

MY PHONE RINGS, startling me from my drunken nap on the beach. I

knock over the five-thousand dollar bottle of bourbon next to me in my
hurry to answer.
It’s Jett.
“Doll. Where are you?” I demand, concern laced through every syllable.
“Cal. Help me. Please.”
My stomach drops at the soft sound of his plea, the phone starting to cut
in and out.
“I’m coming, baby. Tell me where you are.” The desperation in my tone
is foreign to me, but I can’t help but feel so goddamn protective over this
reckless yet kind and utterly good boy.
He’s had no one to rely on his whole life, the people closest to him
using and betraying him.
We’ve only just met, but this island makes people do crazy things, and
maybe falling in love is one of them.
I hear the words storage and bar before my phone beeps and the call
ends.
I jump up, only slightly wavering, and take off, running down the
darkened beach toward the bar.
I’m completely out of breath by the time I make it there, heading around
back to the employee storage area.
There, in front of a supply closet, is a cleaning bin full of mops and
brooms. It’s fallen diagonally and hooked against the doorknob, locking Jett
in.
I bang on the door. “I’m here, baby! I’m getting you out.”
“Cal! Oh God! Hurry! I can’t breathe!”
I know there’s no chance of him actually running out of oxygen in there,
but I frantically work to dislodge the wooden mops.
 As soon as the last broom is free, I rip the door open, expecting him to
jump up and hug me, sobbing into my chest.
But a few quiet whimpers meet my ears before his sweet voice. “Cal.”
My eyes dart up, following the sound to the top of the supply shelf.
“Jett! Baby, what are you doing up there?”
I reach my hands up, and he scoots toward the edge, allowing me to
hook him under the armpits and lower him to the ground. He hisses and
clutches at his shoulder when I release him.
“I had no service. Had to get higher up. Then I couldn’t get back down.”
“What happened?” I ghost my fingers over his arm as he clasps it
against his chest.
“I tried to get out, Cal,” he sniffles, and my heart lurches at the thought
of his small body trying to break the door down. The way those mops were
perfectly hooked into the door handle, he was never getting out on his own.
I hug him to my chest, his soft cries muffled by my shirt. I glance to the
side, noting the empty bottle of rosé.
Alcohol and panic don’t mix well, so I’m glad I found him when I did.
“I was seconds away from climbing through the air vent or digging
through the wall with my bare hands. You don’t understand, Cal. I had to
get out. Had to.”
“I know, doll. And you’re out now. You’re safe.”
“Thanks to you,” he murmurs into my chest, and I squeeze him tighter,
making him yelp.
“My shoulder,” he whispers.
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry. Let me make a phone call. You’ll be seen
immediately. Even if I have to go wake up the emergency doctor myself. I
will.”
“Because you’re Callum friggin’ Ryan, and you own this bitch?” Jett
asks, laughing feebly. His breathing is still weak and choppy, and he hasn’t
let go of his arm.
“Damn straight. Now, no more talking. Don’t be an unruly patient.”
I steer him out of the closet and help him lie on the employee couch
around the corner.
“Rest here. There’s an extra golf cart in the back. I’m going to grab the
keys from the bar, make a phone call, and the doc should be at my place
before we even arrive.”
 “Thank you for saving me, Cal. I’m not really mad at you anymore,” he
mumbles, eyes starting to droop, voice slightly slurred. “Don’t think I ever
truly was.”
“Let’s discuss this later. You’re hurt, and we’re both exhausted. We can
talk in the morning.” I run my fingers along his forehead, down his temple,
and lightly cup his jaw. I stare at the beautiful boy before me, realizing that
I’m not going to be able to let him go now or anytime soon.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Be right back,” I
whisper, but he’s already passed out.
I run to the bar and grab the golf cart keys, preparing to call Kira
repeatedly until she answers. There’s only one doctor I truly trust to handle
something like this. She studied emergency medicine but also psychiatry, so
her expertise is truly invaluable here.
She answers on the fifth ring, right when I was about to hang up and
dial again.
“Cal. What’s wrong?” Kira croaks out, her voice rough with sleep.
“I need you to come to my place as soon as possible.”
I hear fabric rustling and water running. “I’m on my way. Are you
okay? How serious is it?”
“I’m fine. It’s not me. It’s. . .” I pause momentarily, realizing that the
word friend is far too insignificant to describe our relationship.
“Someone very important to me. Shoulder injury. Bruised, possibly
sprained.”
“Was the shoulder dislocated? How much pain is he in?”
“I don’t believe so. And he’s recently passed out.”
“From the pain?”
“No. From alcohol. And coming down from possible multiple panic
attacks or near panic attacks. He was stuck in a closet for hours, Kira. And
he’s claustrophobic. I don’t know the story behind it, but he wasn’t in good
shape when I found him.”
“I’m calling Ian,” she insists, referring to Dr. Kang, another beloved
therapist at the mental health facility.
“No, no. I’ll call Manu. Jett had a session with him, and they seemed to
really hit it off.”
“Manny accepted a new patient?” Kira asks in disbelief.
“Yes, as a favor. Now please hurry.”
 “I’m already in my golf cart and halfway there, buddy. We’ll take care
of him, don’t worry. Anyone this special to you is an absolute angel in my
book.”
“Thank you, Kira. You’re a lifesaver.”
“You know it.” She hangs up, and I quickly call Manny, filling him in
on the situation with Jett as well.
He’s beyond worried, even letting a curse slip out. His feathers are
ruffled, and it’s alarming that he’s so concerned by what I told him. I made
it clear that this is not an immediate emergency, but I’d like him to be there
for Jett. Now it makes me worry ten times harder, wondering what Manu
knows about his past. I would never ask. Either of them. I can only hope
Jett will open up and tell me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jett

“J ett. Jett. Wake up, doll.”

A gentle yet callused hand rubs my forearm, rousing me.
I’m exhausted. Just want to sleep.
“He’s absolutely shattered,” Cal says to someone else, his velvety-
smooth voice comforting enough to convince my eyes to flutter open.
Three shadowy figures surround me, hovering above like giant
sentinels.
“Where am I?” I ask in a raspy whisper. I’m feeling disjointed, my mind
muddy, but my heart still races uncontrollably.
“At my villa, doll. You’re safe.”
“Hi, Jett. I’m Dr. Kira, Cal’s friend. How are you feeling?” a feminine
voice asks kindly.
“And it’s me, Dr. Otahi,” a soft voice, thick with concern, murmurs.
The same hand rubbing my arm travels down and grasps my fingers,
squeezing tightly.
Warm breath tickles my ear. “Please let my friends help you.”
“Okay,” I croak. “Can I get some water?”
“Yes. Here.” Kira produces a cup of ice water with a straw and presses
it against my lips. “Drink slowly.”
I listen, only drinking enough to quench my thirst.
Then I explain that I went to the bar, hoping for a drink. When I realized
it had closed for the night, I snuck into the supply closet, thinking I could
easily grab a couple of bottles and ended up getting locked in instead.
I shudder even saying the word closet out loud. After tonight, I may
keep all my clothes folded and never hang them up again. I hate closets.
I make eye contact with Dr. Otahi, and his shimmer with understanding
and concern.
I glance away, unable to handle the true depth of his gaze.
Kira checks my shoulder next, rotating it and asking different questions
about my pain levels. She’s certain it’s only bruised and prescribes ice and
ibuprofen.
“Can I speak with Jett alone for a moment?” Dr. Otahi asks.
Cal nods before casually kissing me on the top of my head in front of
his friends. “I’ll be on the back patio to give you more privacy. Take all the
time you need.”
“And I’m off to get more sleep. Jett, it was lovely to meet you, although
not under the best circumstances. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She smiles
warmly at me before winking at Cal.
“Thank you,” I murmur, drained and ready for sleep. It’s been a hell of a
night. But I’m also so incredibly grateful and overwhelmed by these
amazing people jumping out of bed and rushing to check on me.
I can’t even stay mad at Cal; I’m not sure I ever truly was.
That leaves me with Dr. Otahi, and it’s like he reads my mind when he
says, “It’s too late to properly discuss what happened, but I needed to check
on you. Make sure you’re stable and well enough. Would you like
something to calm your nerves and help you sleep now?”
“Yes, please,” I whisper. Even though I’m tired, my mind is running on
overdrive. Thinking about Cal’s big secret, everything that happened
tonight, and reliving my traumatic past won’t allow my thoughts to settle.
“This will help with the lingering anxiety and ease you to sleep. It’s
fast-acting, so you should feel some relief within an hour or two.”
“Thanks Dr. O.”
He helps me sit up and take a sip of water to swallow the pill.
“I’d like you to schedule an appointment with me this week. I feel it’s
important that we don’t let time go by or gloss over what happened and how
triggering it was for you. We need to talk through your past and figure out
how we can help ease the effects on your present.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Roman. I’ll let Cal know we’re done speaking on my
way out.”

A SHRILL NOISE yanks me from sleep, and I grumble, reaching out with
my good arm and grabbing my phone.
Great. It’s Briggs.
Knowing I have no choice but to answer, I tap the green button and put
him on speaker.
“Jett! What happened? Are you in a sling? Will it affect your work?”
“Nice to hear from you too, Briggs,” I say facetiously.
 He just wants to know if I can work. Make him money. I roll my eyes
even though he can’t see.
Callum strolls in, pajama bottoms low on his hips and chest bare. He’s
carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, and I may have just died and gone to
heaven at the sight and scents before me.
I grab the mug, blowing on it before taking a sip and moaning at the
creamy hazelnut flavor. He already knows how I like it.
“I don’t need to hear you moaning at ten in the morning, Jett.”
“It’s coffee. Get over yourself. And it’s even earlier here, so thanks for
the wake-up call.”
“You’re welcome,” he says blandly.
“Why are you calling? How do you even know about my arm?”
“The medical wing notified me. I put myself down as your emergency
contact. I assumed you wanted that over your mother. I put down that Lucy
Love girl you’re always around as your second contact.”
I grumble but don’t disagree, glancing at Cal and feeling slightly
embarrassed that I didn’t have many options.
“Anyway, your house call was logged, and I was notified of your
injury.”
“Briggs! Is that Jett I hear you talking to?” A shrill voice shouts in the
background.
No.
My mother? Why would he even call me if he was at her house?!
“What’s this I hear about an injury?”
Before I can stop him, Briggs answers her. “Jett was accidentally locked
in a closet and injured his shoulder trying to get out.”
Traitor.
“I’m sure it’s embellished. A hyperbole. Jett has always strived for
attention. Going to a tropical island for rehab and changing his mind when
he lands wasn’t enough, I guess.” My mother’s voice is dismissive yet drips
scornfully, burning like acid. She’s toxic, vile, and self-absorbed. I don’t
need to let her words or actions affect my happiness.
But it’s hard. And of course I can’t resist her trap.
“I freaked out because I’ve been claustrophobic ever since you locked
me in a closet and starved me!”
Cal growls out loud while my mother scoffs through the phone.
“She. Did. What?”
 Oops. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it come out this way.
I glance at his stormy eyes, then stare at the bed. I can’t even look at
him.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jett! Life isn’t a movie. That never happened.
We did not do that to you,” she says dismissively, her voice getting louder
as if she’s coming closer to the phone.
“Let me speak to him. Hand the phone over now,” she demands.
God, she’s such a witch. And he just takes it.
“Yeah. Dad didn’t do anything. Just you. I should press charges,” I say
with a bite.
It was over ten years ago, and I don’t even know if I could or if I’d want
to, but she doesn’t know that.
She goes silent.
“You can’t do that,” my mother whispers.
“I can try. And the point is, you have no power over me. No control.
Don’t contact me ever again, Ellen.”
I hang up and stare at the perfectly shaped topiaries outside my window.
It really is beautiful here.
“I know that was hard for you, but I’m so bloody proud.” Cal’s eyes
sparkle, and his smile is warm.
He squeezes my hand where he’s perched on the edge of my bed. He’s
been close by, giving me support yet space ever since he found me in that
tiny closet hyperventilating like a mental case.
“I’ll work through my issues with Dr. O. I never want to speak with her
again. I hate her.”
My phone rings immediately, and I’m about to flip out on my mother
when I see Lucy’s name on the screen instead.
Even though I’m hungry and exhausted, I take a sip of my coffee and
answer, knowing she was also notified and probably worried.
“Baby boy! Are you okay? What happened? Do I need to catch a
flight?”
“Lucy, I’m fine! Seriously. I don’t even know why they called you.
That’s kinda bullshit, actually.” What the hell happened to confidentiality? I
don’t give a fuck if I signed the emergency contact form without reading it.
“It’s not bullshit. I’m so thankful you put me down as your emergency
contact, babe. It means a lot.”
My cheeks heat, knowing I didn’t choose to put her down; Briggs did.
 She doesn’t even know about my traumatic past, yet she still feels
concerned enough to fly across the ocean for me. And that means a lot to
me.
“My shoulder is just a little bruised, honestly. You don’t need to come
out here, Luc.”
“Jettson Romanov, I am coming. Right now! Do not leave me out, you
turd!”
I snort. She’s ridiculous with the dumb names.
“Not right now, babe. Please. It’s too much. We can plan a trip here
together another time. Okay?” The question is added as a soft plea, making
it clear I’m far too overwhelmed for guests.
“I completely understand. I’m just so glad you’re okay. I was worried.
I’ve never been emergency-contacted before. It was kinda scary.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“Well, do you have anyone there that can help you? Hunky nurse or
anything?”
Cal clears his throat, smirking and raising a single brow.
“Oh, um. Yeah. I do. My neighbor.” I stress the word neighbor and grin
at Cal, teasing him like that’s all he is to me.
“Ohhh. A hunky neighbor, then? Is he there now? Do I need to have the
talk with him?”
She’s in big sis mode.
I chuckle, “God, no. This is ridiculous enough.”
“Oh my God! He is there! Can he hear me?”
I sigh. “Yes. He can.”
She clears her throat, lowering her voice and making it seductive.
“Hello there, Hunky Neighbor.”
“Hello darling, but please call me Cal.”
She giggles, and I nearly gag.
“Oh my God! He’s British! My ovaries are dripping.”
“Lucy! Gross! Stop!”
Jesus Christ, she can be more embarrassing than me.
Lucy cackles, then tries to get serious. I roll my eyes on instinct, and
Cal smiles back at me.
“Listen here, Cal. You better be good to my baby boy. Take care of him.
He’s precious.”
I feel heat enter my cheeks as I continue to stare at Cal.
 “He is, indeed, Miss Love. And I have every intention of doing so.
Thoroughly.”
Fuuck. How can mere words get me hard? I chew on my lip and glance
down at the erection starting to tent the sheets.
“Smooth, Cal. Impressive and well-played. But I’ll hold you to it! Jett,
have a lovely day and stay out of trouble. Kisses!” And then she hangs up,
probably off to hair and make-up, leaving us to our own devices.
“Hopefully that was the last of your phone calls for the morning.” He
reaches out and traces the side of my face like he always does. As if he’s
memorizing the shape.
“How’s your shoulder feeling?”
I rotate it a bit, wincing at the slight pain. “Hurts a little. I could use
more ibuprofen.”
“Breakfast is on the table. Let’s eat, and I’ll get you some. I promised to
take care of you and fully intend to do so. I canceled all of my meetings for
the day.”
“Cal, you didn’t have to do that!”
Now that I know how important he is, I feel even worse for how much
of his time I’ve taken up lately.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bother lately. Probably a headache to you.” I
pick at a loose thread on the edge of the sheets.
“No. Never.” He places a gentle finger under my chin and lifts it until
my gaze meets his. He stares intently at me, and it’s a little unnerving.
Sometimes I feel like he’s so wise and knows so much. Like he has all the
secrets of the universe and the way to my heart.
“I truly meant it when I said you were precious to me. Important.
Business can wait a day. Let me take care of you.”
I swallow thickly. “Okay.”
“So, you forgive me for not telling you my true identity sooner?”
I sigh, ready to move on from it all. “Yes. There’s nothing to forgive.
You never lied. I see that now, Cal.”
He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips.
“I talked shit about this place and the owner when I was mad. I said you
have old wrinkly balls and a limp dick.”
“You did.”
I snort at the irony. “Sorry. Forgive me too?” I scrunch my nose,
waiting.
 “Yes. Of course. All is well. We both know neither of those things is
true. Don’t we, Mr. Roman?”
“Yeah. Think you can remind me, though? Just to be sure?”
My grin is teasing, and he narrows his eyes at me.
“Cheeky thing. I can show you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jett

T he last few days have flown by with nothing but lounging in the sun
and Cal waiting on me hand and foot. He’s been extremely gentle in
bed, and it’s mind-blowing and sensual, but I can’t help but miss the
usual roughness and his spankings. Something I never thought I’d say.
My shoulder is feeling a lot better, so I decided not to cancel the
snorkeling trip I’ve been looking forward to. I am, however, packing my
bags to leave because I know I’ll be exhausted and probably sore after
swimming and won’t feel like it.
“Two weeks goes by so fast,” I say absent-mindedly, folding my last
flowered shirt and tucking my beloved flip-flops away.
The world can think I went to rehab and returned a better man for all I
care. I’ve come to realize no one believes the tabloids anyway. When I
return to Black Diamond regularly to vacation, maybe they’ll realize they
were blowing smoke up their own asses the entire time.
“You should extend your visit,” Cal says like it’s so easy.
“I want to stay longer. I just wasn’t the one who booked this or set it up
in the first place. I don’t know how to change my flight or anything,” I
admit a little self-consciously, feeling like a stupid kid in front of him again.
“Stay with me.” He says it like it’s the simplest answer there is. “We’ll
get you a new flight later, no worries.”
I chew on my lip, knowing I have nothing booked for another three
weeks after this. It’s an easy answer.
“Really? Okay. Yes! Thank you!” I give Cal a big hug, squeezing him
around his mid-section instead of jumping and hanging from his neck. I still
need to be careful with my arm.
Cal chuckles smoothly. “Alright. I’ll take you to the front desk when
you need me to. You can check out and let them know you’re staying with
your boyfriend and won’t need the plane ticket, either.”
He says it so casually my brain almost doesn’t process the word. But it
does.
“Boyfriend?” I ask with an incredulous tone.
“Yes. If you’re interested. I’m offering more than just a place to stay,
doll.”
 “Yes. A thousand times, yes.” I hop up and wrap my arms around his
neck anyway, pressing my lips to his.
I pull back, and my eyes dart between swirling gray irises. He’s so
intense, so sexy, so mature.
“How did I get so lucky?” I whisper out loud.
“I can ask myself the same question.”
God. He’s so friggin’ dreamy.
“Fuck me, boyfriend.”
I grind my erection into his abdomen as he walks us toward the pool.
“I wanted to have sex,” I whisper in his ear since he clearly didn’t
understand.
He sets me down at the water’s edge. “I know. Get naked, Mr. Roman.
Wait for me here.”
I take my clothes off and slip into the warm, soothing water. I float on
my back, a huge smile on my face, as the stars twinkle above. The moon
illuminates my body, which only adds to the excitement.
Oh my God, I’ve never had pool sex!
Cal comes back with a bottle of lube, different from the one we’ve been
using, and no condoms.
“Waterproof lube,” he says casually. “I’m tested regularly. Last time
was a week before you got here. If you want to skip the condoms. Your
call.”
“I’ve never gone bareback before,” I say, chewing on my bottom lip, so
aroused by the thought of Cal coming in my ass.
“There’s no pressure whatsoever. I have condoms in my pocket, doll.”
“No. I want it. I want it so friggin’ bad. And I was tested before I came
here. I’m good too.”
Cal easily slips out of his linen pants, taking off his boxer briefs next.
His erection stands proudly between thick thighs and holy fucking shit,
this sexy-as-sin man wants me.
And he’s my boyfriend.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” I blurt out. “What if I’m no good?”
“As long as you continue to be yourself, the man I’m falling for, you
will be an amazing boyfriend, Jett. Never doubt yourself. Now come here. I
need to prep you out of the water.”
He waggles the bottle of waterproof lube at me, and I take his
reassurance, letting it seep in.
 I glide through the water toward Cal, and I have to admit it’s a little
weird to be swimming with a boner.
“Why does the water feel so silky and smooth here?” I ask
absentmindedly.
“Saltwater pool. It’s soothing to your skin and eyes, no harsh chlorine,
and also relaxes the body.”
Huh. Interesting. But I wasn’t really expecting an answer.
“Are you the pool boy now, Cal? How do you even know all that?” I
snicker, thinking I’m pretty funny now that I know his true identity.
Mr. Billionaire Island Owner.
“I’m going to ignore that comment and fuck you now, Mr. Roman.”
My smile fades as lust takes over, and I wade out of the water, placing
my hand in Cal’s. He guides me to the patio bed, and I climb on, dripping
onto the soft beige fabric as I position myself how I know he likes me.
Hands and knees.
Cal trails callused fingers down my spine, tracing the curve of my ass
before I hear a bottle open and cool lube is dripped down my crease.
Cal fucks me with two, then three fingers, getting me ready to take him.
Crickets chirp as the ocean waves crash into the pier below. It’s
exhilarating to be under all the stars and the silver glow of the moon.
I hated this place. Hated Cal. And now, I never ever want to leave.
“Pool, now,” he demands.
Cal slathers more waterproof lube onto his cock before slipping into the
pool. He holds his arms out for me, waiting.
I stride toward him, my erection straining and my ass open. Cal helps
me lower into the pool, and I wrap myself around him, chest to chest,
allowing the water to guide me as I sit down on his cock.
He stretches me even further than three fingers could, pressing
relentlessly until my tight ring of muscle gives way.
“Fuuuck,” I moan as he shoves me down on his full length in one go. I
guess he felt like I was ready for it.
Straight to the point.
Cal uses the weightlessness of the pool to easily bounce me on his dick,
setting a smooth rhythm until he pulls out and flips us around. He presses
me into the cool tile wall of the pool and leans in, biting my ear and nipping
at my neck.
“Cal. Please fuck me.”
 He pushes into me and starts to fuck me like a complete maniac.
I wrap my arms around his neck, along for the ride as he continues to
use my body and worship it at the same time. The warm water laps against
my nipples, and the stars twinkle above. It feels like paradise with Cal
inside me. Not long after, he shouts his release, making me gasp and
whimper as I feel his cock pulse, cum filling my ass. Cal squeezes my hips,
grinds deeper, and triggers my own orgasm.
“Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” I cry out as my muscles clamp down around his
length.
“That’s it, doll. Squeeze my cock. Grip me with your channel.”
Oh, holy shit, his filthy words cause a second smaller orgasm to roll
through me, and I nearly sob at the overwhelming pleasure.
Cal can sense this as he slowly pulls out and walks us out of the pool
with me still wrapped around him, my spent cock pressed to his abdomen.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”
I lay my head on Cal’s shoulder and close my eyes, enjoying the
peaceful feeling of having someone care for me.
“You know what?” I mumble, half asleep, when a random thought pops
into my head. I feel comfortable enough with Cal to voice it.
“Hmm?”
“No one can ever call me a gold digger,” I whisper, proud that I fell for
him before I found out his true identity and that he’s stupidly rich.
“No, they cannot. For one, I wouldn’t allow it. And two, I plan to spoil
you rotten. Extravagantly. There will be no digging. I will freely give you
anything your heart desires.
This man. I swear.
Maybe I really will get that Bentley.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Callum

T he fact that it’s nine a.m. and I haven’t checked my email once is
telling. This little hurricane of a man blew into my life, inserting
himself into every nook and cranny without my notice. He’s captured
my heart and wrapped me around his little finger, bringing excitement back
to my boring, work-infused existence.
For as many years as I’ve lived full-time on this island, I haven’t once
gone snorkeling. And I’m quite looking forward to it. Jett has been talking
non-stop about this particular Focus, going as far as researching all the
possible fish we could see and other interesting facts.
His enthusiasm brings a smile to my lips and a rush of blood to my
cock. Seeing the pure joy on his face as he tells me about the abundance of
clownfish and how we’re guaranteed to see some makes me forget about the
sushi restaurant in Tokyo, inconvenient pirate attacks, and the five hundred
flagged emails in my inbox.
Jett is helping me enjoy life and everything it has to offer. His youthful
exuberance is intoxicating and contagious.
“Ready, Cal?” he asks, and I swear I can see sparkles in his eyes.
He’s excited.
“Let’s do this.”
We take the golf cart down the beach a few miles until we meet with the
snorkeling instructor.
“Hey. ’Sup, guys? I’m Ned.”
Ned looks younger than Jett, with long blond hair pulled into a low
ponytail, colorful tattoos decorating his arms, and bloodshot eyes as if he
was just hotboxing his van. I’m a little concerned that this person is in
charge of our safety today.
“Good morning, Ned,” I say casually, giving him the benefit of the
doubt.
Jett squeezes my hand, seconds away from bouncing on his toes and
squealing with impatience.
“I’ve got your equipment ready. Here’re your diving masks, snorkels,
and fins. You can wear your trunks; no wetsuit needed.”
Ned hands out everything we need for snorkeling. “Sorry one of them is
pink. I just grabbed two sets and wasn’t even thinking.”
 “I’ll take it,” Jett speaks up, excitedly grabbing the hot pink snorkel and
fins that just so happen to match his tiny swim trunks today.
Ned recites a list of safety protocols that boil down to common sense.
The final useful piece of information he shows us is how to clear our dive
masks underwater.
“Stay close to shore. And definitely do not go past the coral reefs. The
swell and violent currents would carry you away. And the blacktip reef
sharks are out there too. This is an introduction to snorkeling, not an expert
class. And it’s not scuba diving. I teach that class on Thursdays. So just
relax, float, and have fun!”
“You got it, Neddo,” Jett says somewhat obnoxiously, but our instructor
seems to enjoy the nickname.
“Right on, bro! I like it.” He nods his head enthusiastically. “Neddo,” he
chuckles to himself, walking over to the umbrella where there’s a cooler of
drinks, towels, and three chairs waiting on us to cool down and relax
afterward.
I help Jett get into his snorkeling equipment, and we penguin walk into
the ocean, holding hands and smiling wider than we probably have in a very
long while.
“This is so friggin’ exciting! I swear to God, I better see Nemo.”
I chuckle at his childlike wonder, ready to get under the water and
explore with him.
“Only one way to find out.” I place the snorkel piece in my mouth and
dip my head under the water, swimming along the surface until we get
further out.
Jett swims next to me. I can see him in my periphery, the hot pink
catching my eye.
Once we get a little ways from shore, the ocean bursts with life, teeming
with colorful fish that surround us.
The butterflyfish are stunning here in the wild. I have a large tropical
fish tank at my home on the big island, and seeing how excited Jett is today,
I can’t wait to show him. I think I’ll add some clownfish before I do so.
Speaking of the little buggers, a flash of color catches my eye, and the
little orange fish with white stripes that Jett has been dreaming of seeing in
person is below us.
I nudge his arm and point toward Nemo. He squeals and a massive
release of bubbles escapes his mouthpiece.
 Swimming beneath the surface to get a better look, we hold our breath
and grab each other’s hand, kicking hard with our fins.
It’s like another world under here. The sun cuts through the ocean,
sparkling against our bodies and the white sand below. The clear water
gives us amazing views of the sea life in their natural habitats. I love my
tank, but this is something special, and I’m so glad I let Jett sign me up. I
can see us making a hobby out of it.
Jett makes me want to live life and enjoy it. Work less and play more.
We break the surface, gasping for breath.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe we saw Nemo. He’s so friggin’ cute! Don’t
you think so?” I chuckle at his adorableness.
“It’s quite cute,” I agree, excited to buy some for my tank and surprise
him.
“Let’s go out further! I want to see a turtle!”
I concede, and we swim further out into the ocean. It’s slightly deeper
than I’m comfortable with because Jett insists on getting a better glimpse of
the coral too.
We’re both treading water, unable to touch the bottom this far out.
“Cal! Look!” Jett suddenly shouts, pointing excitedly at the triangular
shape sticking out of the water and swimming around in the not-too-far
distance. “A dolphin!”
I take my goggles off and squint. There’s a black tip on the end.
“That’s. . . not a dolphin. That’s a shark.”
“What?!” Jett shrieks, starting to splash around in the water like injured
prey.
“Oh God. Oh shit! I’m too pretty to be eaten! Mr. Shark, please don’t
eat me! Plus, I’m far too skinny. I’m barely even a friggin’ appetizer!”
He continues to doggie paddle toward the shore, yelling ridiculous
things at the shark like it can understand him or would even listen if it
could.
“Fuck! We’re gonna die, Cal! A bloody, dismembered death! They’ll
make a documentary about us!”
“Stop it!” I shout, cutting off his panic, and it works. “Swim to the
shore, Jett.”
“I am, Cal! Because I like all of my limbs very much. Thank you!”
“Blacktips are known for being shy around people unless you provoke
it,” I tell him honestly. “But we aren’t near its territory any longer, so if we
just keep swimming, we’ll be fine.”
Jett glances over his shoulder every now and again like he doesn’t
believe me. “Go find a school of fish instead! But not Nemo!” he yells
behind us. “Oh God, sorry, fish! Please forgive me. But it’s every man for
himself out here. I need to live, goddammit! I have a boyfriend now!”
I chuckle at his theatrics. The shark is nowhere near us.
I grab his hand and pull him after me until we’re wading out of the
ocean. We take our gear off and step onto hot, dry sand.
“That was fun until it wasn’t, and we almost got eaten!” Jett shouts
dramatically.
“I’ll make it up to you back at my place. Show you how the danger can
be an aphrodisiac of sorts. Foreplay even.”
Jett licks his dry lips, squinting up at me, with a hand over his brow like
a visor.
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
Jett power walks toward Ned, who has a big smile on his face and the
cooler of drinks open, welcoming us. Jett grabs a peach tea and water for
me. “Thanks, Ned! But we gotta go, dude! You’re off the clock early.
Forgot we had plans!”
“Sweet! No worries!” he hops up, probably ready to go hit a coconut
bong. “Catch ya later, little dude.” The way Ned’s eyes linger on Jett’s hot
pink bubble butt makes me feel possessive.
I side-eye him, annoyed at the endearment he’s giving my boyfriend.
It makes me reckless and horny for what’s mine.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be sleeping on your stomach for
the rest of the week.”
I hear a commotion behind us, and Ned has tripped over himself or the
cooler and is sprawled out in a pile of drinks, ice, and hot sand.
Jett snickers, unable to help himself.
I give Ned a knowing smirk and a wink, tugging Jett after me.
“Dude totally wiped out! Did you see that?” He laughs louder the
further away we get.
“Yes. I saw. Now come along before I bend you over the golf cart and
take you here and now. I’m feeling rather impatient at the moment, doll.”
Jett whimpers before chewing on his bottom lip. “Race ya!” he shouts,
and we both take off running, ready to get home and fuck.
 I haven’t felt this young or carefree in years. This light. Both physically
and mentally. As if a dark cloud hovering above me, once threatening me
with a boring existence and unhappy life, has now dispersed.
I can’t wait to spend the next three weeks waking up with Jett Roman in
my bed every morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jett

I ’m meeting Cal at Midnight Lounge for dinner and drinks after he

finishes an important conference call. The plans for the conveyor belt
sushi restaurant in Tokyo have been finalized, and once it’s built, Cal
promised to take me. He’s so passionate about his design for this one that
he’s already planning to visit the construction site several times throughout
the build to oversee precise details.
This man’s strength, power, and commanding presence in and out of the
bedroom are beyond attractive to me. My boyfriend is a friggin’ ten, and I
am so excited to celebrate his success tonight.
But as I get closer to the bar, I notice someone sitting in my usual spot.
I do a double take as I take in the side view of the dark-haired man.
Aaron O’Kane?
At Black Diamond?
Oh, hell friggin’ no!
I stomp over and grab Aaron’s barstool, rudely swiveling him around
and invading his space.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I yell at him.
“Whoa! Someone call the pound. We got an angry Chihuahua on the
loose over here!” Holden shouts from behind the bar, setting more shots in
front of Aaron.
“Oh, shut it, Holden!”
I give him a death glare, and he backs away slowly with his hands up.
“Let me know if you’re ready to order or waiting on Cal.”
“Waiting,” I tell him, agitated that this shitty situation is ruining my
plans for the night.
He nods and spins on his heel, leaving for the kitchen once again.
I focus back on Aaron, who oddly hasn’t said a word during all of that.
He’s always a prick.
His eyes flicker with confusion, and my gaze darts down to his neck, a
large birthmark catching my attention. My brows crease and dart back to his
face.
Oh my God. I forgot Aaron has a twin.
“I assume you think I’m Aaron, the asshole twin.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry for comin’ at you like that. . . Austin, right?”
 He nods solemnly.
“Dude, your brother is a real bitch.”
He’s my mortal enemy. My arch nemesis.
“Tell me about it.” Austin tips his shot back and hunches over the empty
glass.
I’d normally feel bad for the guy, but I don’t have it in me. He looks too
much like Aaron.
It actually kind of pisses me off. I narrow my eyes on him. “Your
brother convinced my now ex-best friend to slip me drugs so I would act a
fool and lose out on a movie role. He jeopardized my entire career and got
me sent to rehab.”
He glances from side to side as if checking to make sure he isn’t in
rehab, too, before taking another shot.
I roll my eyes. “I obviously cleared up the misunderstanding and
decided to have a nice little vacation while I was here,” I say, as if
everything worked out easily and had no bumps along the way. “But it
actually worked out great. Besides losing the friggin’ vampire role of my
dreams because of your stupid brother and Zander!”
His brows furrow, but his eyes flash with recognition at the name.
Although I can tell by his confused face that he doesn’t really know what
I’m talking about. “Zander Evans is your ex-best friend. Aaron’s current
best friend.”
“Yes,” I say through clenched teeth. “And your brother can fucking
keep him. I’ve washed my hands of that back-stabbing traitor.”
I realize I’m getting worked up and taking out my anger on the wrong
person. I just need to leave.
“They can have each other. I’m done with my brother.” Austin takes
another shot, and I see several empty ones to go along with this one.
Not my problem, I tell myself. I text Cal that I’m getting the food to go
and will meet him at his place instead.
He replies that I need to explain over dinner, and I sigh, dreading the
inevitable conversation about this bizarre interaction.
I order our steaks and wait, sipping a mojito and feeling supremely
uncomfortable as Austin O’Kane gets more and more wasted next to me.
I’m not sure he even realizes I’m here anymore as I take my food from
Holden and hurry out, not saying a word. I pass a tall man with dark hair
and inquisitive eyes who looks vaguely familiar. I glance over my shoulder
as he sits next to Austin.
Good. Someone to handle that mess.

“CHEERS,” I say, clinking our flutes and sipping the prosecco slowly. Not
rosé. I will never drink another glass of rosé in my entire friggin’ life.
“Congrats to my super smart, super successful, and super sexy
boyfriend. Sorry I don’t have a better toast, but I really am proud of you,
Cal. Proud to be the man by your side.”
Cal gives me a smooth smile, full of confidence, and holds his glass up
again. “To our future.”
“And our happiness,” I add.
“Together,” Cal murmurs.
I repeat him, uttering together out loud, almost like a mantra.
We cut into our perfectly cooked steaks and eat in silence, enjoying the
night and each other’s company.
“So what happened tonight, doll? Why are we eating here instead of at
the bar? Do I need to knock Holden around a bit? Did he do something?”
“No, no. Of course not! There was just this guy—”
“I can make one phone call and have him thrown off the island. Just
give me a name.”
I burst out laughing at that before my voice goes low. “Your over-the-
top chivalry is turning me on, babe.”
“I’m serious, Jett. Tell me.”
“Austin didn’t do anything. I just know him from off the island. Well,
not really him, more like his low-life, drug-dealing loser of a twin brother.
They’re identical, so I thought he was Aaron for a minute and was riled up.
Ready for a fight. I was going to kick ass, Cal! Swear to God.”
He chuckles at that. “I’m sure you could have, but I’m glad you didn’t.”
He reaches across the small table and runs his thumb along my
cheekbone.
“Far too pretty, doll.”
My cheeks heat at his words, and I hope my tan hides it. I’m not usually
a blusher except around Cal.
 “Thank you,” I murmur before finishing my salad.
“That lemon vinaigrette is so refreshing. I’m going to miss it.” I lean
back and sigh, cradling my stomach. “And the dark honey wheat bread with
homemade butter. The coconut shrimp. Lime cheesecake. Oh, God. The
mojitos! I wonder if Polly would bottle some up for me. That’s probably not
legal, though, huh?”
“You’ll be back. Don’t worry about missing any of it.”
His words steal my breath and spike my heart rate, causing my stomach
to flutter. He knows his effect on me as his intense gray eyes sweep over my
body. My cock responds without my consent, a complete slut for Cal,
hardening under the dinner table.
“Soon?” I ask, wanting to stay even longer but knowing I can’t.
“Whenever you want, doll. My doors are always open. Literally.”
Cal smirks and slips out of his seat. I get up as well, not even attempting
to hide my semi. He glances down and chuckles, grabbing my hand and
tugging me toward the open patio doors. We pass through the linen curtains,
and the soft fabric caresses my bare skin as it gently blows in the breeze.
“Let’s enjoy the time we have right now. Follow me.”
Cal pulls me to the back of the deck, nearest the ocean, and I gasp.
“A telescope,” I murmur in awe.
“Yes. I’ve been meaning to get one out here. Think about it. No city
lights, no smog, no pollution. It’s a perfect opportunity to see the stars. And
a perfect gift for my little movie star.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “For me? You got me a telescope?”
Doubt flickers in Cal’s eyes for a moment, and I don’t like it one bit.
“I’m so excited! No one’s bought me something like this.” I hop up and
wrap myself around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, baby,” I
murmur into his ear before nibbling it. I press our bare chests together,
squeezing him in another hug before I slide down.
“So, how does it work?” I ask, looking closer at the black telescope
sitting on a stand.
I really hope he knows because I don’t have a clue.
“It’s not too hard. I have most everything set. Just lean down here.” Cal
comes up behind me, pressing his chest to my back, and I nearly moan,
distracted by the feel of his body.
“Look through the viewfinder here,” Cal gently takes my hand,
wrapping it around the scope. “And if it seems fuzzy,” he grabs my other
hand, “twist this knob here to focus.”
Cal steps back and lets me look. Bright stars dot the night sky, forming
shapes my brain doesn’t recognize.
“What am I looking at?”
“Andromeda.”
“A constellation?” I don’t know much about science or astronomy.
“Hmm. Indeed. The most beautiful one, in my opinion, which is quite
fitting for you, Jett Roman.”
My skin tingles, humming with arousal and warmth. His romantic
words make me burn for him.
“Andromeda represents strength and resilience. Bravery. She was a
beautiful soul with awful parents who ultimately perseveres through terrible
circumstances, finding true love and happiness.”
I’m melting. Fucking melting for him.
“True love?” I ask dumbly, stepping away from the telescope and into
Cal’s waiting arms.
I peer up at him, eyes alight with anticipation.
“I’m old enough to know what I want and feel, Jett.”
He’s so serious right now my stomach flips, and my breathing picks up.
“And I have never, ever, in thirty-eight years felt like this. Not when I
was twenty-one, having one-night stands, or in any of my short-lived
relationships. I’ve completely fallen for you. You hold my heart in the palm
of your hand, doll. Please don’t drop it.”
His confession destroys me, and tears well up, unbidden. “Cal, what are
you saying?”
I need him to tell me. I need to hear the words.
“I love you, Jett Roman. I feel alive when I’m with you. It’s been a little
more than a month, and that’s all it’s taken me to utterly and completely fall
in love with you. It’s infuriating.”
Cal leans down and presses his mouth to mine before I can say a word.
He kisses me deeply, stroking my tongue with his own. I pull my lips away,
needing to voice my own feelings.
“I’ve never felt so safe or cared for in my entire life. Never felt so
happy. Relaxed. Content. So calm.” My eyes scan his face, committing this
moment to memory. His steely eyes are nearly metallic in the moonlight,
unblinking and waiting. Waiting for me to finish my declaration.
 “It’s all because of you, Cal. You’re good for me. It’s obvious, and I
love you so friggin’ much.”
He kisses me again, and we’re desperate to taste each other. To consume
one another.
“I love you,” he repeats, panting into my mouth after sucking on my
tongue.
“Take me to bed and show me,” I murmur against his lips.

“PLEEEASE. PUT IT IN ME, CAL!”

My boyfriend, the man I love, stands before me, teasing me cruelly with
his cock in hand.
He strokes it, making himself impossibly harder. Cal stretched me open
with his fingers, and I’m lying on my stomach, legs slightly spread, waiting.
Very patiently.
“You beg so lovely, doll.”
My body ignites in a rush of arousal, and I moan, even more desperate.
“Callum, please.”
He takes pity on me and crawls between my legs, pressing his cock to
my hole and pushing in slowly. Just the head pops in.
“More,” I say, gritting my teeth through the stretch. “I can take it.”
Cal listens, shoving his cock into the hilt.
“Fuuuck,” we groan in unison, and he pauses as I pant through the
intrusion.
After a few seconds, I grind my ass into him, letting him know I’m
ready to be fucked.
Cal cages me in from behind, his powerful forearms on either side of
my head, holding his weight up as he nips at my ear and sucks on my neck.
He sets a punishing pace as I move with him. It’s sensual, dirty, and rough.
It’s fucking everything.
I press my face into the pillow to muffle the obscene sounds I’m making
as Cal continues to nail my prostate on every thrust.
“Mmf!”
“Ungh!”
He rips the pillow away, tossing it to the floor.
 “I want to hear you, doll.” He grunts as he continues to fuck me harder,
the sound of skin slapping against skin surrounding us.
My cries are feral, near animalistic, giving him what he wants.
“I’m gonna come,” I warn him, even though neither of us has touched
my dick.
“I-I love you. I can’t s-stop it,” I cry out seconds before I spurt all over
the bed, my hole clamping down and pulsing around Cal’s length.
He growls and slams into me a few more times before he presses deep
and bites down on the nape of my neck, marking me and making me yelp.
“I love you, doll,” he murmurs, gently pulling out of me as my eyes
flutter shut. I’m nearly comatose after Cal just fucked me and made love to
me at the same time.
I’d wonder how that’s possible if I didn’t just experience it for myself.
“Let’s go shower. Come.”
“Just did,” I mumble, snickering immaturely at my joke. I can’t move.
“And you will again if you accompany me.”
My sticky, spent cock instantly takes notice, liking the idea. I crack one
eye open and spy his hand held out for me. I follow it up to an amused
smirk and bite my lip.
I really like this ‘having a boyfriend’ thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jett

A nother storm hit the island today, stranding Cal and me without
power inside his villa. The ice cream won’t last long in this heat, so
we decide to eat as much as we can. We’re surrounded by tiny tea
lights, creating a romantic atmosphere. The flickering glow reflects off
Cal’s chest, taunting me with hard, tight muscle. We’re both in our
underwear, trying to make it through this heat without air conditioning.
“Jett. Swallow one bite of ice cream before you shove another into your
mouth, hmm? I know it’s just the two of us, but please have some
manners.”
“I’m not in public,” I mutter around a mouthful of frozen deliciousness.
I’m immune to brain freezes and always have been. It’s my superpower.
I scoop out a massive spoonful of mint chocolate chip and push it into
my mouth, my cheeks bulging.
“But you’re in my house.” Cal’s nostrils flare, and his lips purse. “And I
expect some measure of respect.”
“I can do what I want,” I mumble, letting melted cream drip from my
mouth and down my bare chest.
I stick my spoon into the pint of strawberry, gathering a nice-sized
scoop. I hold up my spoon, putting tension on it with my other finger.
Maybe it’s cabin fever setting in, or maybe I crave his discipline.
It’s probably both.
“Don’t you dare, Jett.”
My smile only grows, and I release the catapult.
Splat!
A loud, obnoxious laugh bursts from my lips.
“Bullseye!” I shout in triumph.
“My restraint is hanging by a thread, doll,” Cal warns as pink ice cream
drips down his forehead, between his eyes, and off his nose. It plops onto
his lap, but my laugh stutters out when I get the sudden and powerful urge
to get on my knees, smear ice cream all over his cock, and suck it off.
Before I can make my move, Cal shocks me by firing back with three
rapid-fire shots of chocolate ice cream. One to my face and two to my bare
chest. I gasp at the cold, wet sensation against my nipple.
I wasn’t expecting such playful behavior.
 “Oh, it’s on, Mr. Ryan! You’re going down!”
My words are pointless when Cal stands and grabs my wrist, pulling me
from my spot at the kitchen island. He lifts me by the waist and sets me on
the counter. I spread my thighs, and Cal settles between them, lowering his
mouth to lick the ice cream off my chest and bite at my nipples.
I moan and tip my head back, relishing in the opposing feelings of cold
ice cream and Cal’s warm mouth.
Cal slips his fingers into the waistband of my boxer briefs, and I lift my
butt up, allowing him to slide the small piece of fabric down my legs. I kick
them off, and Cal pushes me back to lay flat.
“Lie back, doll. If you want to play with your food, I’ll show you the
proper way. A more enjoyable way. But don’t think for one second that you
won’t get punished for that little stunt.”
Cal wipes the sticky ice cream from his forehead with two fingers
before holding them up to my mouth. I open wide, and Cal shoves his thick
digits inside. “Now suck.”
Oh, holy hell. I’m going to unload right now from merely sucking on his
fingers.
I whimper, licking them clean and releasing them with a pop.
“Good boy.”
Dear God, I think my dreams just came true.
“Now, stay still.”
I don’t move a muscle as Cal places another ice cream dollop on my
nipples and my belly button. My stomach hollows out as he ducks his head,
licking it out with his tongue and trailing cold, wet kisses up to my nipples,
where he eats the ice cream while biting and sucking on them. My cock fills
exponentially, growing to full mast within seconds.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” I groan as Cal moves down to my erection, surrounding
it with an ice-cold mouth and tons of suction.
I’m panting and sticky, my hips thrusting up into Cal’s mouth as he
sucks me hard. I place my feet flat on the marble countertop and grab the
back of his head, too wrapped up in the pleasure to realize I’m fucking
Cal’s face somewhat aggressively.
The thought pushes me over the edge, and I explode into Cal’s mouth,
shooting jizz into the back of his throat.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself, doll, because your ass will pay for that
and your little ice cream stunt.”
 I swallow thickly, and my spent cock instantly plumps up again.
“Roll over.”
I bite my lip, peering up at him with hooded eyes.
“M’kay,” I mumble, still in a daze from that amazing orgasm. I go onto
my tiptoes as I settle on my stomach. The cool countertop chills my bare
skin.
Cal caresses my ass cheeks with adoration and reverence, making me
feel special. Wanted. Loved.
“Now that your ass is so tan, I’ll have to spank you harder to get the
desired effect. I need to see the color bloom in your cheeks, baby.”
Oh God.
“Do it. Spank me. Hard.”
My chest heaves, and my lungs betray me, struggling for breath.
“I need it,” I whimper, craving his discipline.
The first smack lands, smarting just right and making me hiss out in
pleasure.
Cal continues on, smack after smack to my bare skin.
My heart whooshes in my ears, and my ass cheeks burn.
I’m moaning, nearly crying, by the time he finishes. It’s overwhelming
in the best possible way.
“You did so well,” Cal praises, rubbing the sting in. I hear the snick of a
cap, and then cool fingers press into me, opening me up for his cock.
Cal knocks everything else on the island to the floor with a swoop of his
arm, including the metal fruit basket. Two oranges and an apple roll across
the living room and stop under the couch.
“Hands and knees,” he rumbles.
Guess we’re fucking on the kitchen island.
Fine with me.
Cal climbs up, situating himself between my parted legs. I tip my ass up
for him, and he presses the blunt head of his cock to my entrance.
He slowly thrusts until he fills me all the way up, and we groan in
unison.
“So. Bloody. Tight. Your muscles are squeezing me so good, baby.”
I love to hear how much he enjoys my body; it gets me even hotter. I
spread my legs and move with his thrusts, causing him to nail my prostate
each time. I cry out, gripping the edge of the kitchen island for dear life.
 We find the best rhythm we can on this hard-ass countertop, chasing our
release together.
“Nearly there,” Cal grits out between clenched teeth.
I’m already there.
One more thrust and I come with a shout, clamping down around his
cock and squeezing him even harder as my orgasm pulses through me.
Cal fucks me through my orgasm until he explodes inside me, a rush of
warmth filling me.
We’re panting, sticky messes by the time we’re done. Covered in ice
cream and cum.

“CAN we just hug in the rain for a little? Cuddle some?”

Light sprinkles run down my arms in warm, soothing rivulets. “It
reminds me of our hike to the cove. Something I’ll never forget, Cal.”
It’s my last day at Black Diamond; my flight back to the States is
tomorrow morning. I try not to think about waking up alone and having no
one to bug when I’m bored. Cal and I have spent every waking moment
together these last three weeks, and I don’t want to be apart, not knowing
when I’ll see him next.
“We can do whatever you want, doll. And you’re acting like you aren’t
coming back. Of course you are.”
“But you still can’t tell me when I’ll see you next after I get on the plane
tomorrow.”
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry, Jett. I’ve pushed every in-person meeting back
as far as I could. I have quite the to-do list at the moment. As I’m sure you
do after five weeks on a tropical island.”
I stick my bottom lip out even though I know he won’t budge.
“Pouting won’t help your case, doll. I simply don’t know. Let’s make
the best of today and the worst of tonight.” His grin is wicked, drenched in
pure carnal delight.
He’s right. Live in the now.
I pull my shirt over my head, laughing freely and feeling wild. I grab
Cal’s hand and pull him toward the center of the deck, where he spins me.
We slow-dance in the rain to nothing but the sounds of the ocean and our
labored breathing.
Cal switches things up and dips me skillfully before spinning me again.
He pulls me roughly into his chest, manhandling my body the way I crave.
This man is everything to me. In such a short time, I’ve come to realize
that he challenges me, supports me, encourages me, and fucks me so
goddamn good.
“Callum,” I whisper, water dripping over my lips and into my mouth.
“Hmm?”
“I friggin’ love you,” I tell him again. I need him to know it. To feel it.
To never let me go.
Cal stops our movements, leaning down to seal his lips to mine before
pulling away briefly.
“I love you, baby. Now, let me fuck you in the rain.”
I whimper and devour his mouth, tangling my tongue with his.
Our kisses are eternal. I’d stay here in paradise with him forever if I
could.
I arrived exhausted and broken, shattered really, but Callum gathered
my pieces, forging them back together, stronger than ever. I fell in love with
this man in a matter of weeks. He’s helped me grow, grounding me and
making me a better person.
Being sent to rehab was the best mistake of my life.
I don’t know what will happen in the future, but his island will always
be a part of me.
And Callum will too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Callum

W hat was I bloody thinking, letting Jett go back to California alone?

Bollocks!
I’m old enough to know better. You don’t let a good thing go if
you find it. And I’ve never found it. Until now.
I grab my cell and tap my assistant’s name. She answers immediately.
“Ginny. Call Gerald and have him cover for me in all meetings this week.
Maybe longer.”
“Cal! What are you doing?! Is this a mid-life crisis? I am not prepared
to deal with a grown man’s meltdown, Callum Ryan. Don’t you dare.”
“Ginny, stop. It’s not a crisis. And I am not mid-life.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Bloody hell.
“Almost,” she mumbles.
“Virginia!”
“Sorry, Cal! But you’re causing me a huge headache here! A nightmare,
actually.”
“Ginny, listen. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I’m chasing
after love. And you can double your pay during this time.”
“Cal!” she shrieks again, desperate for more information.
She won’t be getting any.
I hang up, cutting her off before she can hound me with questions.
I’ll have to figure out how to book a plane ticket to Los Angeles without
her help.

MY KNEES BOUNCE, irrational fears and unusual nerves flowing through

me. I once again feel like a teenager, but this time it’s as if I’m going on a
first date.
Jett is my boyfriend. I am thirty-eight, but the feeling of being in love is
new to me. It’s exciting and nerve-wracking all at the same time. Flying
across the ocean and surprising Jett at his condo is so unlike me it’s nearly
comical. Yet, here I am, buckled into my economy seat. That’s all that was
left at the last minute. I’ve been patient long enough, and I know what I
want. If I have to fly squished between two other passengers, eating soggy
chicken, then so be it.
As soon as the plane lands at LAX, I’m up, slipping past the aisle seat
and grabbing my carry-on from the overhead container.
I have no time to waste and no time for politeness.
My need to see Jett is urgent and overwhelming.
Luckily, we exchanged personal information. He has all of my home
addresses in an app that only opens with his face and a code from his email,
as well as any and all important numbers, including Ginny’s, Gerald’s, and
even my brothers’. Although I’m not too sure I like the idea of my brothers
meeting Jett quite yet. They’re rowdy and enjoy giving people a hard time,
and Jett likes to give it right back.
I didn’t call him, intending for this to be a surprise. It’s a risk I’m
willing to take to see the joy on his face when he finds me standing on his
doorstep in California.
I booked a hotel room, needing a place to freshen up before seeing him.
As soon as I shut the door behind me, I called the concierge, requesting a
fresh tropical arrangement. The beautiful glass vase overflows with pink
orchids, birds of paradise, jasmine, and palm fronds. The oversized bouquet
is as elaborate as Jett is special. I take a deep breath, inhaling memories of
our time together on the island. I miss my home, but I miss Jett more, and it
makes me realize I just want to be with him. Wherever that is. I want to
make compromises and sacrifices, as much as possible, to live our lives to
the fullest—together.
After I shower and style my hair, I slip into my favorite dark navy suit.
It’s nearly black, with just a subtle hint of color. I had the concierge steam it
when he dropped off the flowers. Everything needs to be perfect tonight,
including the special dinner I expect to be waiting and warm upon our
return.
Jacob the concierge will be tipped generously if he pulls tonight’s
dinner off without a hitch. He knows this. I was very clear in my detailed
instructions for the menu. I know these fancy hotel chefs all too well. They
won’t appreciate the specific instructions, as if I’m encroaching onto their
territory or stepping on toes. But I’m sure it’s not the first time they’ve had
to host the type of clientele this establishment likes to boast about.
 I was adamant about my need for Jett’s favorite resort foods: dark honey
wheat bread, homemade honey butter, coconut-vanilla shrimp, Polynesian
flank steak, lime cheesecake with ginger crumbles, and of course, mojitos.
I check my watch, unnerved by the butterflies in my abdomen. It’s an
unfamiliar and disconcerting feeling for me.
But it’s time to go. I head downstairs, passing through the extravagant
lobby and underneath the crystal chandelier the size of a car.
I hop into the town car waiting at the curb, and we take off, headed to
Jett’s condo. It’s almost time for our phone call. I promised to FaceTime
him after my last meeting and let him know what I was ordering for dinner.
The hotel isn’t far, but it takes nearly forty-five minutes with L.A.
traffic. I huff, impatient with the slow-moving vehicles. I’m not cut out for
city life; I’m an island boy at heart.
I adjust the lap belt that secures the vase of flowers in the seat next to
me. There’ve been a few spills, but the bouquet looks just as beautiful as
when it arrived.
Maybe I should have thought this through and had them delivered. . .
Apparently, I need an assistant for my love life as well.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver informs me as he pulls up to an impressive
building. Ten floors, all sharp angles and diagonal lines, solid concrete,
steel, and glass. Lots of glass. I can imagine the sunset will be quite
stunning from the inside, especially considering Jett has the penthouse floor
to himself.
It’s gorgeous architecture. A masterpiece, really.
I perk up at the idea of spending some of my time here with Jett,
regardless of the horrendous traffic.
I hop out of the car, and the driver takes off, waiting nearby for my call.
I hide the flowers behind some shrubbery and hover next to the condo
building like an absolute creep. I can only hope the security cameras don’t
pick me up and alert the police.
I wait for a resident, grab the arrangement of flowers from behind the
bush, and slip into the building after an older man with a schnauzer.
We stand side by side, waiting for the elevator, and I attempt to act
natural, as if I didn’t just sneak in behind him like a bloody stalker. He eyes
me suspiciously, and so does his snobby-looking dog.
“Good day,” I say, nodding politely regardless of his attitude.
The dog growls at the sound of my voice.
 “Trixie doesn’t like strangers,” the little old man snips at me rudely. “Or
flowers.”
“Hmm.” I stand with my hands around the vase tightly, waiting for the
elevator to arrive.
Once we step on, he side-eyes me more intensely as I enter the code to
the penthouse floor.
“You a friend of that rude, foul-mouthed boy up there?”
I don’t owe the gossiping old man any explanation, but he will not
speak about my boyfriend in that manner.
“My boyfriend is an intelligent, creative, talented, and beautiful man,” I
tell him coldly.
He grumbles something about music and parties, but I ignore him and
stare as the blue numbers slowly tick up.
Trixie sneezes the entire way to the seventh floor, where I respectfully
hold the elevator door open. Jett’s neighbor ambles off, taking his negativity
and the allergy-having dog with him.
I finish my ride to the tenth floor and check my watch once again.
Almost time.
I quietly step off the elevator, hiding in the lounge area outside his front
door and setting down the arrangement. I call him at our agreed-upon time,
and he answers immediately.
“Hey, babe! I miss you already,” Jett whines.
I chuckle, loving the sound of his voice. “Hello, doll. How’ve you
been? I miss you so much. You’ve become an obsession of mine.”
Is obsession too light a word? It’s an urge, really. A basic need. Like
food and water. Shelter.
I want to devour him completely, consume his soul and possess his
being.
“Why can’t we video chat? Cal, I want to see you.” I can practically
hear his pout through the phone.
I claim my FaceTime isn’t working, feeling slightly guilty for lying
when he grumbles about not getting to see me. But he’ll find out his
surprise soon enough.
I mute my phone and knock on his door, quickly unmuting it.
“Ugh. Someone just knocked. BRB. Let me peep. So annoying.”
I bite back a laugh, and the butterflies are back, excited for his reaction
when he sees me.
 The curtains on the side window pull back slightly, and an eye peeks
out. A loud gasp echoes through the phone.
He flings the front door open abruptly, slamming it into the wall.
“You’re here,” he murmurs quietly, almost reverentially, before
snapping out of it.
“What are you friggin’ doing here, Cal? Ohmygod!” A wide smile lights
up his face as excitement and happiness pour out of him. It’s infectious.
Jett jumps up and loops his arms around my neck in a tight embrace. I
guide his legs to wrap around my waist, splaying a hand under his arse.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I whisper against his lips, teasing him. “Couldn’t
spend another night without you in my bed. Fate brought you to me, and
now I’m taking our destiny into my own hands. I had Ginny forward my
schedule to an associate who will handle business for the foreseeable future
while I’m preoccupied. I can’t wake up and spend the day alone doing
business like I used to.”
I trace his jawline, pinching his chin between my thumb and forefinger.
“I need you in my life every day. Your energy, your radiance, your sass. I
want to support your career and encourage your healing.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he chews on his plump lower lip.
“I wasn’t ready to let you go, Jett Roman. I love you too much. I have
big plans for us, and I hope you do too.”
Jett slams his mouth to mine, branding me with his kiss.
“Take me to bed, Cal. And then take us to the island.”
The butterflies in my stomach multiply, morphing into rowdy
hummingbirds. My gaze drops back to his lips, so plush and smooth,
tempting me with that beautiful, teasing smile.
“I want to go home.”
I squeeze him tightly, never wanting to let him go, and whisper into his
ear. “I’ve come to realize, doll, that home is wherever you are. Wherever we
are. Together.”
When I think about my life before Jett, the only word that comes to
mind is bland.
He’s the brightest star, shining incomparably in a perfect constellation.
The center of the galaxy. And the center of my universe.
He’s bloody mine. Irrefutably.
My doll.
My little movie star.
 And with my guidance, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with. No one can
stop him.
He’s shatterproof.
EPILOGUE
 JETT

Two Years Later

W e split our time between the island and Los Angeles or whatever
movie set I’m on. But we try to spend as much time with each other
as possible. That first week apart made us realize we’re happier
together.
I think Cal still works too hard, but he’s slowed down greatly, enjoying
life and enjoying me. I accept and support that he is a very busy man, and I
can only hope I bring some relief to his hectic schedule of meetings and
important decisions.
Occasionally we spend time in Tahiti or one of our other homes
sprinkled around the world, but we both prefer our villa on Black Diamond.
Where it all started. Where we fell in love.
For as combative and rude as I was when I first arrived on the island,
it’s the one place on this planet that I want to be. Always.
Black Diamond healed me in so many ways, bringing love, support,
and, most importantly, Cal into my life. Sex too. But the island forced me to
confront different problems in my life, both past and present, from my
mother’s control to Zander’s betrayal.
After a long-overdue phone conversation with her about locking me in a
closet as a kid, I decided to let it be and not press charges. I’m still working
through my issues in therapy instead, choosing to never see or speak to my
mother again for my mental health. Probably my father too. He went along
with whatever she said or did, never having a backbone or thought of his
own. But he left her last month, taking his money with him since the old
man was smart and had a prenup.
She’s living in a decent, two-story house in Pasadena, but it’s nothing
like her home in the Hollywood Hills with Dad. She has nothing compared
to before, even though it’s admittedly more than the average Joe.
Neither of them deserves my absolution, but I don’t need that level of
negative press for my career. I’d rather keep it in the past and focus on my
future and my happiness with Cal. Because I’m just that—so fucking happy.
One scandal was enough; getting high off molly and dancing in my
underwear was pretty legendary. But I wouldn’t take back a single thing
that’s happened in the last two years.
I’ve found a true home here at Black Diamond, not only in spending
time with Cal on our private pier but also in getting to know some of the
other regular islanders. And even going on double dates with Chase and
Holden, if you believe it.
I’ve also kept up therapy sessions with Dr. Otahi, sometimes over the
phone. He not only helps me work through my past but also helps me
practice techniques to stay calm and focus better.
As far as Zander, karma served him his head on a silver platter, literally.
I got the main role in the final Resilience movie. Spoiler alert, I’m a good
vampire. I behead Zander’s evil ass, ripping it straight off and burning his
body. I can’t lie; it’s eerily satisfying. On many different levels.
Dreams coming true. Retribution. And pure fucking satisfaction all
wrapped up into one amazingly successful movie.
Like I said, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
“Let’s go, doll! If we miss this flight, we miss the boat to the island!”
My husband is beyond doting and accommodating. We take a
commercial, first-class flight and then a boat to the island. Completely
avoiding the tiny enclosed space of a private plane.
We got married last year, on the island, of course, and there was no need
for a honeymoon when we were already in paradise.
Holden officiated, and Bob was the ring bearer. Although he nearly ran
off with half a million dollars in wedding bands. Cal was moments away
from wringing his little neck. But all in all, we had an amazing ceremony
and an even better reception on the beach with half the staff and all of our
friends.
 It was a summer I’ll never forget, just like the one before when Cal and
I first met.
My phone beeps, and I glance down, smiling widely. “Lucy’s ready too.
We have to swing by and pick her up on the way to the airport, don’t
forget!”
He grumbles, even though I know he loves when she comes to the
island with us.
Cal and Luc hit it off, although she probably pushes his buttons as much
as I do. I know he has a secret soft spot for her, making sure she’s taken
care of whenever she’s with us.
Swoon.
Callum is such a gentleman, it gets me ridiculously horny. I nearly bust
a nut every time he opens the car door for me.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! My titties are sweating!” Lucy shouts

obnoxiously loud on the ride to the pier. We only just got here, and she’s
already complaining.
“Cal’s right here, babe. He can hear you,” I tell her reasonably, twisting
behind me to eye her in warning. She can push his buttons nearly as much
as me.
“So?! My titties are still sweating! Got some paper towels? Tissues—”
“Get into your bikini when we get home. Just please don’t give us more
details about your boob sweat, Luc. Please.”
“Whatever, Jett. I let you complain about ball sweat last summer in
Cancun. For the whole trip. Didn’t say a word. Don’t be a buzzkill.”
I chuckle and eye Cal. What a snitch!
“We’re here,” I yell excitedly, hopping off the golf cart and holding out
a hand for Lucy.
She stays in my old villa next door whenever she’s here. We’ve let her
decorate it in feminine, pastel colors and any other way she wants. Cal was
right; it really is a family pier. We enjoy having friends stay, and our friends
are family in today’s world.
Lucy and I hold hands, running down the pier in our excitement.
 “Careful! Before one of you ends up in the ocean,” Cal warns from
behind us, making me snicker.
Lucy throws the door open, squealing at the oversized tropical flower
arrangement Cal always has ready for her. She closes her eyes for a moment
and inhales deeply.
“Home sweet home,” she says, grinning widely and glancing over at
me.
I feel the same way.
Cal wraps an arm around me from behind, pressing his lips to my ear
and causing tingles to race down my spine and straight to my cock.
“Home sweet home, indeed.”
 NEED MORE?

There are thirteen stories in this collection from thirteen authors. If you
would like to spend more time at Black Diamond, you can find the rest of
the series on Amazon here.

Or make sure you’ve downloaded them all:

Broken by Andi Jaxon

Wounded by Ashley James
Unfortunate by Nicole Dykes
Damaged by Hayden Hall
Exception by Cora Rose
Volatile by J.R. Gray
Consumed by Bailey Nicole
Abysmal by Marie Ann
Splintered by Isabel Lucero
Scandal by T. Ashleigh
Exiled by Jessie Walker
Reckless by Becca Steele
Shattered by Charli Meadows
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I’d like to thank my fellow Unlucky 13 authors. I’m honored to be

part of this shared world and wrap up such an amazing series. I had so
much fun with this story, and I especially enjoyed writing all of the
crossovers. We had so many laughs! It was a new experience all around,
and I hope you love Jett and Callum as much as I loved writing them.
I also need to thank my beta reader, best friend, and wifey, Elizabeth
Dear. I can always count on you, and that means so much.
Molly, my editor, thank you for always polishing my words and helping
me build the best story possible.
My arc team, readers, and reviewers, thank you. Every comment, every
review, and every recommendation means so much to me! I just want you
to know how appreciated you are.
And finally my PA, Ari, I couldn’t have done it without you cheering
me on, making me all the pretty graphics, running my arc team, and giving
me lots of pep talks.
I’m so excited for what I’m writing next and all of my future plans. Be
sure to follow my social media and join my newsletter to stay up to date
with all things Charli Meadows.
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Charli Meadows is an obsessive reader, avid Bookstagrammer-turned PA, and now an author herself.
Lover of all things romance, she plans to write a little bit of everything but make it sweet and spicy.
You can usually find Charli working her boring corporate job or at home playing video games
and tending her plants. When she’s not reading, writing, or daydreaming about books, that is.
ALSO BY CHARLI MEADOWS

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Unlucky 13
Shattered: A Black Diamond Novel