Holding The Cards
Chapter 11

While she cleaned up and changed, Marcus put together a packed lunch. Josh left them to go to his home and get the two men a change of clothes, which she discovered meant a pair of clean cut-off shorts and an extra shirt in case the day turned colder.
Gauging the day and where they might go, she changed into a sapphire blue bikini and a pair of shorts.
She had expected to be quite alone on the island, and so the bikini allowed for maximum tanning area.
She didn't care to bake bronze like some women did. She had no desire to resemble a Shar-pei pug by age forty. However, she did like to maintain a light golden coloring. The bikini top was a shelf bra style that raised her breasts up and together with padding beneath and on the sides. Besides displaying the generous rounded tops of her breasts and giving great play to their movement, the stretch of the garment molded over the jut of her nipples. The bikini's blue material had a sheen caused from sparkling threads in the weave, and was sheer enough that if a man tried to focus past the subdued glitter, he could see the dusky shadow of the aureoles. She expected at least one man would be trying.
Lauren brushed back her hair into a twisted chignon that exposed her delicate neck and would keep her cool. Right. Like that was possible with Josh around.
She put in a pair of silver hoops, and allowed herself the vanity of pale pink lipstick. She looked delicate; something a man would ache to touch. If she let him. Her lips curved. Therein lay the fun, seeing how long her mastery could hold out, how he would connive to get around it.
Playfulness mingled with healthy lust had never been part of her life with Jonathan. Was she rewriting history to help her heal? She frowned. Maybe, but there was more to it. Josh made it more.
Good God, she was beating this to death. She adjusted the strap to give her breasts an extra lift, turned from side to side to admire how the suit showcased them, and then headed up the hallway. Her ankle was feeling better, enough that she could give her hips a slight swing to offset the distraction of the limp.
Marcus lounged on the couch with a breakfast Bloody Mary. Josh sat restlessly on the counter, his bare feet just above the floor. His gray eyes ran over her soft pink lips, the exposed column of her throat, and down to her breasts. She managed to control a blush, just barely, as she felt the nipples peak against the material, a shiver of reaction that ran across the exposed tops of her breasts, down to the lower extremities beneath the shorts. His gaze seemed to follow her reaction, all the way down the lean muscles of her long thighs, to her toes, curling inside loose canvas sneakers with no laces. His eyes alighted on the ace bandage she had rewrapped.
His expression shifted from blatant male appreciation to a protective evaluation of her self-nursing. It caused an emotional tug on what lay beneath her breast, and that mental twinge plucked at the physical.
"So, I'm yours, gentlemen," she managed, looking between them. "Where do we go first?"
Josh slid off the counter and came toward her as Marcus gave a mysterious grin and slipped out the back door, Bloody Mary still in hand.
Lauren's gaze shifted to make her own thorough appraisal as Josh approached. She appreciated to the point of an audible purr the bare chest, the way the shorts cradled his half erect cock, the way the waistband of his cut off shorts slid along his deltoids, much the way she might like to slide her hands over them. She tilted her head back as he got to her, and gave him a raised brow and slight smile.
"You wore that swimsuit to torture me," he accused.
"Did I?" she arched her brow higher, considering, then nodded. "Maybe I did. Maybe I want you to be hard for me. Are you hard for me, Josh?" She kept her eyes on his, but as he leaned forward, she leaned back.
"That wasn't an answer, Josh," she reproved gently. "Put your hand on your cock, over your jeans, and show me how hard you are."
"Lauren," he said, a flush creeping up his neck.
She took another step back. "Do I hold the cards or not, Josh?" she asked. "Show me," she murmured.
"I want to know how hard looking at my breasts makes you."
He swallowed and then, with a quick look toward the door, lowered his hand and cupped himself.
Lauren followed the line of sight and smiled at the outline of his bulging groin cradled in his hand. The discomfort of it crept higher up his neck. She stepped closer to him, marveling at how much taller he was than she, how much more physically powerful.
She put her one hand behind his neck and her other hand over his on the source of his discomfort, keeping it there as she raised up on her toes. She pressed her breasts into his chest, shifting slightly to ensure the stiffened nipples would drag over his skin, and kissed him, a light brushing of lips, a brief touch of her tongue to his teeth. His other hand rose to her hip and held there, an anchor against the need that quivered through his muscles and communicated how much he ached to use that power advantage to crush her to him. But he didn't.
"I'm glad you wanted me to be with you today," she said, needing to give something to him. She needed to let him know she wanted him, too, to keep his discontent based in banked lust and not the brooding unhappiness that seemed to be waiting, simmering behind his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. "Show me your island."
He raised his hand, his fingers twitching once as they passed the side of her breast, but he kept the movement going until he rested his knuckles along her cheekbone, a feather of contact. She tilted her head toward the touch, then caught her breath as he scooped her up, taking her off her feet.
"You might get tired, transporting me this way," she teased, proud that her voice cracked only on the first note before she regained her composure. "I'm really fine to walk, just not fast."
"Not as far as we're going." He took her out the back door and down the steps. "We've got you a ride."
The light fresh breeze of morning in the islands touched her skin, bringing her the smell and sound of the ocean. Sunlight filtered over the tree tops, lighting the activities of the many island bird species. It was going to be a beautiful day, and her heart swelled with hope for new beginnings, cleansing, and forgiveness. Her grip tightened on Josh's neck, reflecting the sudden constriction in her throat, her reaction to the abrupt touch of happiness.
They turned the corner, and Lauren saw Marcus standing with Isabel. An oversized beach towel had been doubled and laid across the white elephant's shoulders to form a sitting area. Lauren grinned with pure delight, a reaction that dimmed somewhat as Josh carried her toward the elephant. Isabel eyed Lauren with at least a degree of the apprehension Lauren was beginning to feel as they approached and Isabel's much greater size became apparent.
"Now," Josh said smoothly, "she's a lot like a New York taxi driver. You can tell her where you want to go, and she'll eventually get you there, but she may take the circuitous route to get a better fare."
They reached the elephant and Lauren shrank back against Josh as the large pachyderm raised her head to give her a better inspection.
"Isabel, this is Lauren," Josh said seriously. "I'm supposed to take care of her, which means you have to help me."
"Josh, I don't know  -  "
"It's okay, Lauren," he looked down at her, tightened his hold. "You can trust Isabel."
He held her gaze for a moment more, and Lauren felt an unexpected peace steal through her. He wouldn't let anything hurt her. It was a dangerous, naive thought, one she was far too experienced to be having, but there it was, filling her, calming her.
Marcus stepped on Isabel's offered knee and swung up. Josh set Lauren with her weight on her one good foot on the elephant's provided step. He set his shoulder behind her knee, told her to reach up to Marcus, and then he laid his hand on her thigh, pressed on it to get her to sit on his shoulder. He straightened, and a gasp and a moment of weightlessness and she was there, seated before Marcus.
Josh swung up in front of her, ready with a peanut as Isabel lifted her trunk up to him to retrieve the expected treat.
"If it pleases the lovely lady," Marcus observed, "we might go to the beach first. Mornings are the best swimming times."
"It pleases me," Lauren agreed, running a fingertip along Josh's bare spine and enjoying the reaction of goose pimples along his flesh.
God, she had locked down her hormones for nearly a year, since Jonathan, and now she couldn't keep her hands off this man. Maria had warned her that celibacy for one of her sexual nature would result in an explosion of "felonious proportions". Lauren had laughed at her, until now.
However, Josh didn't appear to be objecting to her attentions. She recalled with a flush of heat the impressive evidence beneath her hand, matched by the heated steel of his eyes.
"Beach, Isabel," Josh requested. The elephant agreeably started down the steep drive to Lisette's home.
Lauren laid her hands on Josh's waist just above the line of his jeans and observed that she had an excellent view of his ass because of the way they rode low on his hips. Definitely not the gross exhibitionism of an overweight plumber. More like the provocatively loose "modesty" drape around the hips of a young Roman god.
Isabel reached the bottom of the drive, but instead of continuing down the slope, she went right and onto a narrow trail that began to climb upward.
Josh's shoulders lifted in a sigh. "New York taxi driver," he reminded Lauren.
"I almost prefer her to take the circuitous route," Marcus chuckled.
His voice came from somewhere below her, rather than under her ear as she expected. Lauren twisted about to see him lying on his back, his long legs bent and swinging just behind hers to keep his balance.
Lauren considered the way his posture strained the twill of his shorts over his groin and then, in the leisurely manner of a true sensualist, let her eyes graze up the equally appreciable ground of his bare, muscular chest. He was bronzed, not quite as dark as Josh, but still a nice compliment to his dark silky waves of hair.
He glanced down the line of his body at her, making it clear he knew what she had been doing, and grinned. He extended a hand. "Come down here. See why Isabel is smarter than the rest of us."
Lauren agreeably lay back; letting his hands on her shoulders guide her. She giggled as he snorted, caught her under her armpits and hauled her back about half a foot. "It may feel like a comfortable cushion at the moment," he said sternly, "But that's not the best place for your hard head. It makes a better neck rest."
Lauren nestled the back of her skull into the lower part of his abdomen, still smiling. She settled her hands on the armrests his thighs provided and followed the direction of his pointed finger.
A canopy of vines stemmed with broad leaves wove above her in various shades of green, from mint to a rich dark color that was almost grape. Spreading branches displayed splashes of color, the exotic blooms of a jungle environment. The rising sun sent streaks of light through the foliage to illuminate the pockets of light morning mist in the close air of the forest. One moment the early breeze shivered across her skin, and a breath later, a sunbeam stroked it away.
There was noise. No, that was wrong. Noise meant chaos, jobs, streets, cars, and too many people, all wanting something. This was a rhythm, like the movement of waves, a serene pattern expressed audibly, in the conferences of birds, the rustle of the tree dwellers, creatures foraging and chattering. Beneath the sounds, there was a hush, a cavern of noiselessness that Lauren associated with a Presence, something that lived quietly in Nature, but spoke only through its creatures.
It was like being in a church, she realized. It was spiritual.
"Come down here," she reached for Josh. He obliged, adjusting forward, so when he lay back between her spread thighs, his head rested just below her breasts. His hands, like hers with Marcus, slid down to rest on her thighs for stability. The base of his neck pressed against her crotch, and that pressure sent a pleasurable spiral through her belly beneath his head. She raised one hand from Marcus's leg and laid it on Josh's shoulder, stroking his hair and the side of his throat as Marcus did much the same to her.
Marcus was a true Dom, assuming all within range of his fingers were subject to his fondling, but she wasn't complaining. He would have made a good sheik, she'd warrant. She liked the feel of his long fingers stroking her hair. She ran her knuckles along the ridge of Josh's shoulder, drew a circle on his pectoral, idly traced his jugular. It pleased her when he raised his chin to give her better access. She kept up the motion, all the while looking up at the world above them. It was a world that existed without self-analysis, falling into a natural pattern without question of that pattern, of the wrong and right of it. It was much how this felt, the three of them together, part of it, and at least for the moment, Lauren knew peace.