The man who had been on the floor is standing and wobbling on the balls of his feet. His head is tilted and his eyes unfocused.
He’s disoriented. Thankfully, I’m not.
Without hesitation, I dash forward, head-butting his stomach, the full force of my weight throwing him backward against the concrete block wall. His oompf as my move causes him to exhale and Jenn’s scream fill the room. When he falls to the floor, I rear back and punch his face. My fist pummels his cheek and nose over and over.
My hand aches and he’s not fighting, yet the punches continue.
This is for whatever you did to my wife.
This is for what your drunk friend did.
“Paul, stop!” I can barely hear her.
This is for ruining our perfect vacation.
This is for hurting her and scaring her.
This is for knocking me out.
Finally, above the sound of crunching cartilage, Jenn’s screams, combined with yelling from the man on the bed, register. The one on the floor is unmoving and unconscious.
His face is bloody, his nose off-kilter, and there’s blood oozing from his partially open mouth. The way the blood is dribbling, his heart is still pumping.
“I think I knocked out one of his teeth,” I say as shock settles in.
“Motherfucker,” the man, dirty-shirt, yells.
Ignoring him, I go to my wife and gently undo the cuffs as her arms fall around my neck and shoulders.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” I say, over and over.
Her body trembles in my grasp as she buries her face against my chest and her grip of my shoulders gains strength. “They...they...”
I lift her face, fully seeing her swollen cheek, darkening eye, and dry, cracked lips. “It’s my fault. I didn’t know anyone was on the island.” I gently brush my lips against hers, wanting to tell her she’s still the most beautiful woman I know, and that I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to her. However, the yelling from the man on the bed is growing louder.
“Untie me, you motherfucker.”
Jenn slips from my grasp and reaches for a lamp. Without a word and stark naked, she marches toward the man.
“Dumb cunt, I should’ve—”
The lamp smashes down on his head, breaking into shards as his body goes limp.
“You shut the fuck up!” she screams.
I rush to her side, taking what’s left of the lamp from her grasp. When she turns to me, her blue eyes are wide, wild, and filled with emotion.
“I’m not a fucking cunt,” she yells, turning back toward the unconscious body. “And I’m not a goddamned pet or anything I don’t want to be!”
“Jenn,” I say cautiously, laying a hand on her arm, more than a little worried that my wife has lost her senses. “I’m here. They can’t hurt you anymore. Are you all right?”
Her naked frame straightens and chin lifts with more determination than I thought possible. “I’m not, but I will be.”
Fuck, my wife is amazing. How could I have ever questioned her ability to handle my desires? She’s the strongest person I know.
I nod, pulling her close to my side as I lead her away from the bedroom. “I want to tie up the guy on the floor. Once I’m done, let’s get you something to wear and leave here. The storm has stopped. We’ll fly the red flag. Hopefully the hut is still there, and more importantly, the radio. We’ll call Narvana and get you medical attention.”
She exhales and looks down at herself. “I feel so filthy. I want a shower or a bath, but I know that’s not what I’m supposed to do.”
“What else do you want?”
Her big blue eyes stare up at me. “To tell you that I’m sorry.”
“Fuck no. I’m sorry.” I point back toward the room containing the two unconscious men. “My job is to keep you safe and I failed.”
Her small hand reaches up to my cheek. “Do you remember my saying I wanted to tell you something?”
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of whatever drug they gave me. As the memory returns, I shrug. “Maybe, before everything went black.”
“I was so afraid they killed you.”
“Jenn, can you ever forgive me? Is this it? Can we recover from this?”
When her hand drops from my cheek, she reaches for my hand. “I’m exhausted and tired and sore. If you promise you don’t blame me for what happened to—”
“No!”
Her cheeks rise at my quick response.
It’s my turn to gently rub her face, tracing a purple bruise as I swallow. “They hurt you.”
“Without too much detail, and I know this will sound crazy, but I’ve been hurt worse.”
My back stiffens and jaw clenches at her declaration. “Who? When?”
She squeezes the hand intertwined with her own. “Tie him up so we can call for help? Because if he still wants me, I want to go home with my husband.”
“I want you. You’re amazing and mine. And sometime, when you’re ready, you have to tell me everything.”
She nods. “I will. Do you remember how you were afraid I’d run?”
“Yes.”
“So am I.”
“Never, baby. Never. I love you. You’re stuck with me.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jenn
Thankfully, the hut was still there—damaged, but present. More importantly, the radio survived. With the storm passed, the helicopter arrived in record time, along with a boat filled with law enforcement officers. The two men who Paul tied and locked in the apartment were on an international watch list of drug smugglers and pirates.
I know what you’re thinking. I thought the same thing.
I didn’t know pirates still existed, not in the ‘over the sea’ way, but according to the authorities, they do.
The two men who shipwrecked on our island have been busy over the last few years, robbing yachts and vacationers all around the Caribbean. While they were presumed guilty of many crimes, my charge was their first count of aggravated rape.
When the officers asked me if I wanted to press charges, briefly, I recalled Richard’s justification for past situations. How I got what I deserved. How it was his right. How if I’d only learn to behave.
I could have let that stop me. I didn’t. What those men did was wrong and with the help of years of past counseling and the constant support of my husband, I’d come too far not to understand the difference.
What I endured on the island may have been similar to times with Richard and his friends, but I knew without a doubt, this time was completely without my consent. And nothing is allowed to happen to me without my consent.
There was no way I wouldn’t press charges. And besides, my husband was one hundred percent behind me. His support and the overwhelming evidence gave me the courage and strength to tell the law enforcement officers everything I could remember.
Thankfully, with immediate medical attention, after the police questioning, Paul and I were able to travel back to Wisconsin the very next day.
A few days later at Dr. Kizer’s office-
“Jenn, you asked to be here when you talked to Paul about something you want to tell him?” Dr. Kizer asks as more of a confirmation to our appointment than a question.
I grasp my husband’s hand. “Yes, I’m scared.”
“First, Paul and Jenn, before the unimaginable and unexpected, how was your time on the island?”
I turn to my husband’s brown-eyed gaze, waiting for him to answer. When he does, I hear the defeat in his tone. “Doc, it was going great, but now...” He doesn’t try to finish the sentence.
“Can you tell me why and how it was great?”
Paul takes a deep breath. “I was honest. I told Jenn about the desires I had—have,” he corrects. “She was doing great. Each day was building on the last.” He sighs and turns to me. “I was so fucking proud of you.”
Before I can respond, Dr. Kizer does. “You were, Paul???
?
“No. I am.”
“This is why I wanted to talk here,” I say to Dr. Kizer. “I hope you can help me make him understand that what we were doing and what those men did are not the same.”
Dropping my hand, Paul stands and paces toward the window. “I know they’re not. But I was the one that tied you. Because of me you were defenseless. I hung that chain—”
“Paul,” Dr. Kizer asks, “let’s concentrate for a moment on the positive. Tell us, how did you feel reawakening those dominant feelings?”
“Good, but now it feels wrong.”
“Not if I want it,” I admit.
“But how could you?”
I take a deep breath. “You were wrong about me. Or right. I’m not sure. Maybe part of our initial attraction was our complementing desires. I’d done more than read about submission. In college I began playing with BDSM.”
His eyes grow wide. “You never said anything. You were so...not submissive.”
I take a moment and bite my lip before going on. “I was in a relationship where it got out of hand. It wasn’t domination. It was abuse. He controlled everything in and out of the bedroom—my clothes, hair, and even goals. He even controlled who I had sex with.” My stomach rolls as I say the words aloud.
“What? Who?” His stare locks to mine as his forehead furrows. “Is that why you asked so many questions?”
I nod.
Paul’s gaze darkens. “He hurt you? Really harmed you?”
I nod again. “I went through years of counseling. I didn’t hate submission. As a matter of fact, I like it.” I shrug. “Maybe you could tell?”
For the first time since the island, my husband smiles as he comes toward me and kneels at my feet. “I thought you did, but then...” He bows his head to my knees.
“Paul.” I lift his chin. “Those years of therapy helped me understand the difference. You understand this so much more than he did. It was a power trip for him. You’re patient and loving. I trust you.
“Nothing you did or so far want to do is without my consent. Nothing crosses that line. And if it would, you’ve given me the power to stop it.”
I look into his eyes as they swirl with so many emotions. When he doesn’t speak, I continue. “The realization that we have the same correlating desires is another reason I don’t want to lose you. I love and trust you. You saved me and not just on the island. You saved me from the first night we met. You showed me that when there’s love, trust, and respect, submission is okay.
“You demonstrated that by more than blindfolds and spankings...by supporting me with the police and doctors, letting me tell them what happened. You also showed that you can be there for me, stand beside me when I need to be independent because I needed that closure.” My voice cracks. “You told me we can have both if we want it.” I shrug and grin through my slow cascade of tears. “Even though learning about your desires was unexpected, I am more than okay with them. I want what we can be together. I want to stay married and move into the future with you.”
Instead of answering, he sits upward on his knees until our lips meet. The connection is electric and everything I need: sweetness, love, and devotion, yet also control. His hands come to my cheeks, choreographing our movement with the precision of a true Dom and I love it.
Since the island, he’s treated me with kid gloves. The force as our kiss grows causes my thighs to clench as my nipples bead. Maybe I was wrong to do this in Dr. Kizer’s office. If we were home, I could be naked.
When he pulls back, his eyes again contain the love and adoration I saw earlier on the island. His unspoken praise fills me with warmth.
“Paul,” Dr. Kizer asks, “can you hear and accept what Jenn is telling you?”
“I do hear her.” His hand caresses my cheek where the bruise is fading, as his lips curl upward into a smile. “I think she’s saying she never wants to ride in a helicopter.”
I giggle. “I only want that with you, and you’re right, I don’t. I just need to know that it’s an option.”
“Always.”
Epilogue
Jenn
A year later~
The hut sways gently with the waves as the warm tropical breeze blows my sundress and hair. My gaze is stuck on the man standing at the rail of the deck. As I take him in, I know that not only is my husband the handsomest man I know, he’s the one I love unconditionally and trust with my life. He’s my partner and my Dom. He’s the man who encourages me to be independent yet also gives me the confidence to be submissive.
My sight is on him. Beyond the rail, the sun shimmers on the ocean, framing his broad shoulders and tanned skin in explosions of light.
“I can’t believe you were willing to come back here.” Paul says, turning back toward me with a grin.
“Why not? This is where we saved our marriage. Besides, they offered us a free week with no other guests and a chef and security on the island.”
Paul comes closer and cups my cheek. His nose scrunches as he speaks. “I kind of hate that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, with all those people—a chef and security—we won’t be able to make love on the beach or spank your ass by a palm tree.”
My cheeks warm—as well as other parts of my body. “No, but we have this entire hut for that.”
His eyebrows quirk upward as desire radiates from his darkening gaze. “What did you just say?”
“We have the entire—”
His cadence slows. “Did you tell me no?”
A giggle escapes my lips as I think back. “Yes, Sir, I believe I did.”
“Do you know what happens when you say that...” He motions around. “...in the bedroom?”
I could argue that the entire hut is kind of a bedroom, but I don’t. I can’t with the way the warmth is pooling between my legs. My chest heaves in anticipation of what my husband has planned as I fall to my knees. Instead of looking down, I peer upward with a ridiculously large smile across my face. “I’m not sure what will happen, Sir. That is up to you, but I’m ready.”
“How ready?”
“Very ready for whatever you want.”
His shoulders square as his tone deepens in the way that sets me on edge—a very good edge. “If I checked, would you be wet.”
“Soaked, and my nipples are hard.”
Paul offers me his hand. “Baby, that’s not unexpected.”
“It’s not.”
After I stand, his fingers go the straps of my sundress, pushing them one shoulder at a time until the dress flutters to the floor, creating a pastel puddle at my bare feet.
Taking a step back, Paul scans from my toes to the top of my head. His menacing smile grows as he shakes his head. “Tsk-tsk. Mrs. Masters, you seem to have forgotten to wear your panties. Whatever am I going to do with you?”
I’m glad we both can keep some things unexpected.
* * *
Did you know that Paul and Jenn were referred to Dr. Kizer by the characters in UNCONVENTIONAL? If you enjoyed UNEXPECTED, please download UNCONVENTIONAL today and learn Dr. Kizer’s secret of success... explore those desires!
Also, if you’d like to get a sneak peek at Aleatha’s brand new dark romance trilogy, WEB OF SIN, with an alpha anti-hero who will melt your heart and your panties, turn the page and enjoy the prologue to SECRETS.
WEB OF SIN-BOOK 1-SECRETS
Prologue
Araneae
My mother’s fingers blanched as she gripped the steering wheel tighter with each turn. The traffic on the interstate seemed to barely move yet we continued to swerve in, out, and around other cars. From my angle I couldn’t read the speedometer, though I knew we were bordering on reckless driving. I jumped, holding my breath as we pulled in front of the monstrous semi, the blare of a truck’s horn filling our ears. Tons of metal and sixteen wheels screeched as brakes locked behind us, yet my mother’s erratic driving continued.
“Listen very carefully,” she said, her words muffled by
the quagmire of whatever she was about to say, their weight pulling them down as she fluttered her gaze between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.
“Mom, you’re scaring me.”
I reached for the handle of the car door and held on as if the seat belt couldn’t keep me safe while she continued to weave from lane to lane.
“Your father,” she began, “made mistakes, deadly mistakes.”
My head shook side to side. “No, Dad was a good man. Why would you say that?”
My father, the man I called Dad for as long as I could remember, was the epitome of everything good: honest and hardworking, a faithful husband, and an omnipresent father.
He was.
He died less than a week ago.
“Listen, child. Don’t interrupt me.” She reached into her purse with one hand while the other gripped tighter to the wheel. Removing an envelope from the depths of the bag, she handed it my direction. “Take this. Inside are your plane tickets. God knows if I could afford to send you away farther than Colorado, I would.”
My fingers began to tremble as I looked down at the envelope in my grasp. “You’re sending me away?” The words were barely audible as my throat tightened and heaviness weighed down upon my chest. “Mom—”
Her chin lifted in the way it did when her mind was set. I had a million visions of the times I’d seen her stand up for what she believed. At only five foot three, she was a pit bull in a toy poodle body. That didn’t mean her bark was worse than her bite. No, my mother always followed through. In all things she was a great example of survival and fortitude.
“When I say your father,” she went on, “I don’t mean my husband—may the Lord rest his soul. Byron was a good man who gave his...everything...for you, for us. He and I have always been honest with you. We wanted you to know that we loved you as our own. God knows that I wanted to give birth. I tried to get pregnant for years. When you were presented to us, we knew you were a gift from heaven.” Her bloodshot eyes—those red from crying through the past week since the death of my dad—briefly turned my direction and then back to the highway. “Renee, never doubt that you’re our angel. However, the reality is somewhere darker. The devil has been searching for you. And my greatest fear has always been that he’d find you.”