But it also sounded like my last hope.
Chapter Three
The island was even more beautiful than the photographs. White sand beaches, lush tropical vegetation, crystal-clear water in shades of blue and green. A pilot, not Syx, was waiting for me at the small airstrip after my plane landed, and he would transport me to the main house by boat.
Just as I exited, I got a breath of clear air evading my nostrils. I wasn’t surprised by any of the plans because Syx had sent me an itinerary via email with extensive detail down to how to wear my hair, what colored he wanted my nails and toes to be and what to eat.
With each step I took, my pink ombre pleated maxi dress from Celestia flowed in the wind and my booty jiggled between my thong which was Mina’s idea to wear as if anybody would see it here—anybody other than Syx perhaps, but judging by the way the guy was licking his lips and looking over my figure he approved too.
The boat ride was short, just ten minutes around the coast to a private dock. And there, standing at the end of the dock, was Syx.
A tightness seized my throat, and my heart began to flutter wildly.
He was tall, at least six-five, with light skin that gleamed in the afternoon sun. He was muscular, but not bulky, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He wore simple white linen pants and a white button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up. His head was freshly cut, tapered with deep waves and a neatly trimmed beard. But his eyes caught my attention. They were dark, warm, rich and intensely focused.
“Nyne,” he said. His deep and rich tone sent a rush down my spine that I wasn’t prepared for. Even in person he was just as fine as I knew he’d be. Coming to my aid he helped me carefully out of the boat. “I’m Syx.”
Extending his hand, I grabbed and held on to it firmly, but I wasn’t prepared for him to put his other hand on my back, inches above my ass as he led me to the luxurious villa.
“It’s nice to put a face with a name,” I grinned, looking up at him.
His upper extremity was exposed, showcasing his many intricate, colorful tattoos that started at his neck, but looked nothing like common jail house art, embedded in his toasted skin complexion. My eyes trailed down to the eight-pack ridged into his stomach that led to a deep V-cut. Before my eyes could trail any further his hand cupped my chin snapping me out of a deep trance. Meeting his brown syrup-colored eyes, his bushy brows were dipped with concern.
“You straight?” He spoke in a southern accent but still spoke with proper mannerisms.
“Oh y-yeah I’m okay,” I stuttered.
“Are you feelin’ dizzy or lightheaded?”
“No, I’m okay. I guess the flight and the boat ride did a number on me,” I lied.
I was perfectly fine, just felt a little flushed.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah, I can walk.” I nodded with assurance.
He stared me for a brief moment, reading me—gazing at me with a lingering curiosity as if he wasn’t playing into the bullshit I was leading on with.
“I’ll be back, don’t move.” He demanded and walked off giving me a whiff of his cologne. It wasn’t strong, but very enticing. It made me want to dab just a little bit on a pillowcase and drown in it.
I watched him intently, with my hands clasped in front of me, as I clutched my iPhone. He’d grabbed my suitcase and tipped the pilot before walking over to join me again. The distance between us was short but he walked with a bow legged, cocky stride. When he reached me, he held out his hand for me to clasp on to it. I felt something electric ignite through me.
“Let me show you around.” He stated.
The house was stunning. An open concept design that blended seamlessly with the natural environment. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered views of the ocean from every room. The furniture was comfortable and elegant, all-natural material and soft neutral tones like white, cream ivory, cream, mushroom, beige and French champagne. Some of the artificial wall art was in gold and black, blending in perfectly with everything else.
“This the main living area,” Syx said, gesturing around. A milli second ago, he held a door open for me that led to the kitchen that accompanied stainless steel appliances. “You’re welcome to use any of it. The chef will be here in the morning, or I can cancel if you want to opt out and cook your own food. Most people prefer the feel of luxury, so they never opt out.” He glanced down at me momentarily, waiting for my response. “Do you like to cook? Can you?” He grinned, revealing a set of porcelain white teeth.
Playfully I hit him on the side, releasing a laugh. “Of course I can cook. So, to prove you wrong I’d like to opt out of the chef.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He joked.
“I’m with whatever you with, Mr. Syx,” I stated in a flirtatious manner.
“Im’a hold you to that Ms. Nyne. C’mon let me show you where you’ll be getting comfortable.”
Down the hallway, he led me to a spacious bedroom with its own bathroom and private terrace overlooking the ocean. The bed was enormous, covered in white lines that looked impossibly soft.
