Page 26 of An Epic Voyage (The Epic Beauty Salon Files #1)

G riffin woke early , feeling both completely sated and wholly unsatisfied.

The two rounds with Indigo last night had been spectacular.

The best sex of his life, and second place wasn’t even close.

Heck, he couldn’t even remember the other woman’s name.

That was why he was unfulfilled—he wanted more.

Her hand rested on his chest as she slept. She looked so sexy, all rumpled and well-loved. He wanted to kiss her awake and initiate round three, but time was slipping away. They needed to find the laptop and nuke before help arrived on the island.

Griffin tore his gaze from the beauty beside him to the television screen. The storm was getting closer. That meant rescue wouldn’t be far behind.

With great reluctance, he started to roll out of bed, but an exploring hand stopped him cold. When she grasped him, he groaned and fell back to the pillows, enjoying the sensations coursing through him.

As much as he wanted her to keep doing what she was doing forever, it was his turn. He’d let her take charge the second time last night.

Griffin rolled, dislodged her hand, and kissed her with the passion he was feeling. There was no finesse. It was deep and erotic, mimicking what he was about to do to her body.

He should’ve known Indigo wouldn’t play fair. She flipped him until she was on top, ripped the foil packet open with her teeth, and rolled the condom on him with her mouth. He gritted his teeth while she took her sweet time. He wasn’t going to last.

Griffin gripped her hips and lifted her. She squawked in surprise, her hands shooting out to brace against his chest. Then she groaned when he brought her down onto him.

“Umm,” she purred as she wiggled and rotated her lower body. “So good.”

He wanted to chastise her like she’d done to him when he described their coupling as “good,” but he was the fast engine on a Thrust SSC. Nothing could stop him as he flipped her onto her back, slid his hands beneath her legs to hold her open to him, and drove into her again and again and again.

Her inner muscles gripped him tightly as her head thrashed from side to side.

Her hands clutched the sheets, bunching them around her body.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. The orgasm that steamrolled over him stole his breath, sight, sound, and strength.

He collapsed against her, breathing like a racehorse rounding the last curve at Churchill Downs. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to move.

Somehow, he did so he could kiss her. She mewled when he rolled off her but gasped when he slid his hands beneath her and moved the party to the shower, where they proceeded to lather each other up and go for round four.

Thanks to the billionaire’s resources, the hot water never ran out.

#

I ndigo didn’t recognize herself. She’d never been controlled by her hormones before. A few days around Griffin Decker and she was a nymphomaniac. Correction. Griffin had turned her into one.

Chelsea and Piper would be floored at the transformation. Indy was the practical one, always focused on the task at hand. Chelsea was a romantic and Piper a dreamer. Indy was the one with two solid feet on the ground. Logic, reason, and practicality were her trademarks.

Not anymore. Griffin had given her wings.

Indy rolled her eyes so hard at herself that she almost toppled over. Next thing she knew, she’d be sitting down with a notebook and pen, waxing poetic.

There once was a man named Griff

Whose neck I love to sniff

And oh, what a bod

He makes love like a Greek god

If not for him, I’d have fallen off a cliff.

Oh, good grief, was she now composing limericks in her head? And not very good ones at that. What was wrong with her? She’d never been one to pine over a man.

Time to refocus.

Instead of choosing one of the sundresses she’d worn in her role as Jinger’s beautician, she selected a pair of tactical pants with several pockets for weapons and assorted items, and a long-sleeved shirt. She almost laughed when she saw Griffin dressed the same.

“How much have you searched?”

In other words, how long had he been knocked out? The answer was not long enough. She pointed. “These two walls. I was starting on the floor but was rudely interrupted.”

He grinned, and Indy sighed. Man, those dimples.

They set about checking the bunker. Indigo took one side, and Griffin started on the other. They ran their hands along the walls, moved furniture, and lifted rugs. It was exhausting work, but failure wasn’t an option.

#

T hey’d been searching for hours, stopping only for lunch to fuel their bodies. They had found nothing. Griffin was starting to wonder if they were on a wild goose chase.

The panic room seemed like the safest place to stash the loot, but maybe they were on the wrong track. There could be a bunker anywhere on the island. If Griffin hadn’t known about this room, he’d never have found it on his own. Who was to say there weren’t more like it out there somewhere?

“Griffin.”

“Hum?”

“Look.”

He stood and turned to see Indigo staring at the wall of monitors. He walked over and stopped beside her. The hurricane had arrived.

They stood in stunned silence as palm trees were uprooted and sent twisting in the air like pinwheels.

Terracotta roof tiles and wood swirled, mingling with bushes, flowers, and other parts of the landscaping.

One screen went dark, followed by two more.

In a surreal moment, a dolphin from the water fountain took flight before crashing to the ground and shattering. There went the roof.

“My God,” Indigo breathed. “It’s annihilating the place.”

“Catastrophic,” Griffin agreed.

Static appeared on one monitor before it went black. The rest followed.

Suddenly, they were cloaked in darkness. It lasted for twenty seconds before the lights snapped back on. The generator had kicked in.

Indigo turned to him. “Will we be able to get out of here?”

Griffin shook his head slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Does the air seem stuffier?”

Yeah, it did. The sensation felt like being buried alive. He’d been in tight spaces before, but he’d never felt more claustrophobic.

“I don’t enjoy being trapped in here with a nuke, so let’s find it so we can get out.”

“Good idea.”

They continued searching, switching sides to go over places they’d already checked in case one of them had missed something.

Dinner was a quick-to-make and easy-to-eat sandwich.

It was past midnight when they fell into bed exhausted, but not too tired to make love.

Time was fleeting, and they wanted to be together as much as possible.

Griffin’s eyes popped open in the middle of the night, and he shot upright.

Indigo was instantly awake. “What is it? Did you hear something?”

“No.” They had searched the entire place and found nothing—no hidden safe or trip latch. “I thought of something. Get up.” He turned on the lights.

“You just want to see me naked,” she accused.

That was also true, so he didn’t deny it. He did almost protest when she pulled on a shirt—his shirt. Griffin rolled out and found his cutoff shorts, pulling them on.

“Help me drag the mattress off,” he said.

Indigo didn’t ask questions as she grabbed one side and tugged.

He loved—liked—that about her. Not love.

He couldn’t love her yet. Griffin shook his head.

It was much too soon for emotions like that—if he was even capable of them.

He’d never been in love before, so he didn’t know what it felt like.

Sure, he admired Indigo. He enjoyed talking to her and spending time with her.

When he wasn’t with her, he missed her. That wasn’t love—was it?

“Griffin?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Where did you go?”

“I was thinking about the laptop,” he lied as he removed the dust ruffle from the platform.

“I see where you’re going here,” she said as he reached into an indent to lift the plywood the mattress had rested on. Together, they moved the board to reveal the floor.

“Damn,” Griffin groused. “I was hoping for a trapdoor.”

“It was a good thought . . .” Her head snapped up. “It has to be in the closet.”

“It does? Why?”

“Because that’s where I would put it.”

“We checked it,” he pointed out.

“Not thoroughly. We were tired and eager to get to . . . other activities.”

His body responded instantly. He remembered those activities. Vividly. He wouldn’t mind getting to them again. Right now. He reached for her, but she was already gone.

#

I ndigo was almost certain there had been nothing in the closet. They had checked it, albeit not meticulously, because they had other things on their mind. How could she let sex distract her from her mission?

Indy was disappointed in herself. The bigger problem was that she didn’t regret it.

Not even a little bit. Being with Griffin was one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

She knew no one was perfect, but she’d yet to find his faults.

Maybe she was blinded by lust, but the man was her equal in every way.

Their compatibility, not to mention chemistry, was off the charts.

It was an inconvenient time for this to happen, but she would not let the opportunity to be with him pass.

She cringed, thinking of what Evangeline would say. The woman’s life was her job. Frankly, Indy wasn’t sure she ever left the basement offices. She would tell Indy to get her head out of her ass and do her job.

For some reason, random images from a crime show Indigo had watched years ago flashed through her mind. She couldn’t recall all the details, but a prisoner had been let out of jail to catch a murderer. The problem was that he had escaped police custody . . .

“Hey, where are you going?” Griffin asked. “The closet is that way.”

“A hunch.”

The refrigerator was large, but it didn’t include a freezer, as there was a separate one. A blast of cold air slapped her in the face when she opened the double doors.

“You should’ve said you were hungry,” Griffin said from over her shoulder.

“Shh.”

“Did you just shush me?”

“I did.” She held up a hand. “Let me concentrate.”

“Yeah, choosing between strawberry or blueberry yogurt is a conundrum.”

She ignored him and searched the interior. There were two buttons: one to control the temperature and another without a description. She pushed the second one.

A noise sounded, and she bumped into Griffin. They barely made it out of the way as the shelves slid forward before one side released and swung to the side.

“What in the actual hell?” Griffin uttered.

Indigo stepped over the bottom lip of the fridge. “There’s a door.”

“Method Man,” Griffin murmured.

She turned and smiled at him. “You saw the same episode of CSI .” Rapper, music producer, and actor Clifford Smith, known professionally as Method Man, had portrayed Drops, the prisoner who had escaped through an opening inside the fridge of a nightclub.

Another button activated a sliding door, revealing a tunnel.

“You’re brilliant,” Griffin praised. “But we should change before we explore.”

She looked down at her naked legs and feet, not to mention her bare ass. “You’re right.”

As soon as she stepped out, the refrigerator automatically closed.

Indigo dressed in a sleeveless yoga top and, like Griffin, a pair of jeans.

They grabbed their weapons and flashlights that were charging on a table.

Griffin let her go first, which was a good thing since she’d made the discovery.

This was her show, not that she’d take full credit if it panned out—or any.

That wasn’t Epic’s modus operandi . They did the job without fanfare.

Indigo opened the fridge, waited for it to go through its Optimus Prime-like contortions, and then pressed the button for the hidden panel.

As soon as she stepped through, lights snapped on to illuminate the path.

As with everything associated with Benedict Van Houten, it was well kept.

The ground was paved with smooth concrete, as were the walls, and it was wide enough for at least four people to walk side by side without touching each other.

“I’d feel better if you let me check it out first.”

“Too bad, buddy.” He needed to get it through his mind right now that she didn’t need a man to protect her.

She was fully capable of tackling whatever challenges they encountered.

He should know that by now, but alpha males had thick heads with assertive, take-charge attitudes.

She would know since she was an alpha female.

They both led with their guns as they navigated the winding corridor. She pressed a button to check the compass app on her phone. They were headed north.

“It would’ve taken months to pave this tunnel,” Griffin remarked.

“No kidding. He must have had it done on the sly since it doesn’t show up on any blueprints.”

“There’s a reason he wants to keep it on the down low.”

“Exactly. That makes it the perfect place to hide stolen goods. Keep an eye out for a safe.”

They rounded a corner, and the passageway widened significantly. Parked against a wall was a golf cart plugged into an outlet. Instead of a back seat, it had a cargo bed. Beside it was a door and a panel with one button. “This looks like an elevator,” remarked Indy.

“Let’s find out.”

Griffin pushed it, and the door slicked open. “You were right.”

“I thought we were already deep enough underground,” she groused as she stepped inside beside him.

There were buttons to open and close the door, along with one other.

Griffin chose the unknown one, and they descended.

The ride was quick. When the door opened, it sounded as if a freight train were bearing down on them, and they were slammed violently to the ground against the back wall.

Indy saw stars and thought she might be drowning as water rushed down her throat.

Griffin struggled to his knees to slap the button to close the door. The instant silence was jarring. As the elevator ascended again, the water rushed out.

“Holy moly,” Indy breathed from her back as she stared at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Griffin agreed as he spat out water. “I’m thinking that was your hidden cave.”

Indy pushed to a sitting position. “That totally makes sense. He has a way of getting items in and out without the staff or anyone else knowing about it.”

“The safe has to be somewhere close, like inside the tunnel.”

“Or the panic room. The corridor leads directly to it.”