It’s now my sworn duty to pull her away from her work in the afternoon as I’d promised, because she needs the break so she doesn’t run herself into the ground. She’s more dedicated than ever to finishing this formula because she knows it could also be our ticket to freedom. So, I make her go down to the beach or snorkeling, just for a little while to refresh her mind.
At night, though, I’m a selfish fuck because I make her come to bed at a decent hour. It’s not because I think she needs more of a breather, or that a fresher mind might be gained with better rest, but because of no other reason than I want to be inside of her.
Her hand on my cock two mornings ago opened the dam, and I have a never-ending stream of need for her that can’t seem to be fully quenched. So, after we finish dinner and clean the kitchen, I do a final perimeter check of the island while she tries to squeeze in another hour of work.
Then I return to the main house, and I actually drag her away. Sometimes, she begs me to let her finish a thought or a note. Sometimes, I even give in.
For the most part, though, I don’t.
I just sweep her off to wherever I want to have her to start the evening, knowing we’ll end up in the big bed in the master suite.
She created a monster—made me submit to something I never should have let happen—and now she has to live with the beast she awakened.
Barrett isn’t complaining, though. If anything, she always ends up begging because even though we started off this sexual relationship with a quick, hard jacking where I let her have control of me, it’s not the way we’ve rolled since.
I like to lead.
I like to get her frenzied and out of control, to where she’d let me do anything I want.
Foreplay… I fucking love it. There’s not a part of her body I haven’t touched and claimed in the last two and a half days.
The sun is starting to get heavy, dropping nearer to the horizon. I check my watch, confirming it’s getting close to the time to head up to the main house and make us dinner. I’ve taken over all the meals, not because I’m a better cook—I’m not—but mainly to give Barrett those extra precious minutes to work.
Like I said… when night falls, she’s mine. She doesn’t belong to the future of free energy for those hours.
I’ve already completed my last perimeter sweep. Not surprisingly, all infra-reds and trip wires are perfectly set up. The weather has been good, and no one has been on the island except Barrett and me.
We are running low on a few things, though. I’ll need to call Samuel to see if he’ll make a quick supply run out to us. I’ll meet him on the docks as I don’t want to run the risk of him seeing any of the cameras or wire strung strategically in areas that look most approachable up to the main house.
This morning, I took some steaks out of the freezer to thaw. I’m planning to do them on the grill with some potatoes. We’ve had fish every night since we’ve been here—fresh caught and delicious—but I want some damn beef.
Making my way up the path, I eyeball the trip wires I placed through the foliage in case any potential intruder decided to try to sneak up off the path, which are covered by the infra-red cameras. By the time I hit the front door, I’ve gone out of hyper-vigilant, single-purposed protector mode and into can’t wait to spend time with Barrett while I protect her mode.
I hate myself for feeling this way. I’ve put my own feelings and desires over what’s best for Barrett, which would be to put one thousand percent of my energy into watching over her. It means I shouldn’t let her distract me, and I shouldn’t lose myself in her.
In essence, I’m letting her down in the long run.
I’m letting Kynan down.
If he knew I was fucking her, he’d kill me, then fire me.
And yet, not going to stop. What’s done is done, and now I’ve had her, I’m just going to have to risk my fucking job because I’m not going backward.
Barrett isn’t just some lay.
She’s not a hookup. Not a one-night stand.
She fucking means something to me, and that’s probably why it’s the best damn sex of my life.
I’m goddamned smitten with the woman I’m protecting, and I have no business being in this line of work if I can’t keep this shit separated.
When all this is said and done, Kynan deserves my resignation and he’ll get it.
I hurry into the front door and through the foyer, immediately zeroing in on Barrett at the large dining room table. Clearly hearing me enter, she sits straighter in the chair, flips her laptop closed, and looks over her shoulder with an expression I can’t quite pinpoint the meaning of.