Page 34

Anchor

I came out of the bathroom in nothing but boxers clinging low on my hips. The room was dark and lit only by the soft moonlight spilling through the window. Pearl was already curled up in my bed with her dark hair fanned across my pillow. Her arms were tucked under her chin like she belonged there.

Because she did.

I flipped the light off and climbed into bed beside her. The mattress dipped with my weight, and before I could get settled, she shifted and pressed herself against me, her legs tangling with mine. Her palm slid over my chest like she was checking I was real.

“You smell like that soap you keep in the bathroom,”

she murmured sleepily.

“That’s usually how soap works,”

I grunted and pulled her closer.

She smiled against my skin, then was quiet for a beat before speaking again.

“So… am I staying with you in the clubhouse now?”

“Yeah,”

I said without hesitation.

“You’re not leaving my sight.”

She let out a soft hum.

“I kind of liked having my own space, though.”

I looked down at her, even though I couldn’t see her expression in the dark.

“There’s not a lot of room in your cabin for guards and locked doors.”

“I know,”

she whispered.

“It’s just… your room’s not really built for two. I’ve got my sketchpads, my canvases, my paint…”

“You want space for your art?”

She nodded against my chest.

“I can clear out one of the other rooms in the clubhouse,”

I offered.

“Set you up a little studio until we catch the bastard doing all this. Then, once it’s over, we’ll convert your old cabin into a real art space. Hell, I’ll build you a skylight if that’s what you want.”

She was quiet, and then I felt her shift, pulling back just enough for me to see the glint of her eyes in the dark.

“You’d really do that for me?”

she asked.

I turned on my side and reached for her face, cradling her cheek in my palm.

“Doll, I’m ready to burn the whole damn world down to keep you safe. Making a studio out of a cabin? That’s nothing.”

She smiled, soft and grateful, and curled into me again. We lay like that for a while. I thought maybe she was falling asleep, but then her voice broke the silence.

“What about the other cabin?”

I frowned.

“What about it?”

“When Bernice leaves?”

she asked and sat up slightly to prop herself on her elbow to look down at me.

I squinted at her in the moonlight.

“You got plans for that one, too? Rent it out or something? I’m not into outsiders staying longer than it takes to run through the haunted house.”

“Maybe,”

she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What if you let someone who isn’t really an outsider stay there?”

I sat up on one elbow to mirror her.

“What are you thinking?”

“Shay. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, Anchor. She’s living out of her car. I don’t think she’s expecting a handout, but I don’t think she’s ever had anyone give her a chance either.”

“You really planning on sticking around if you’re already making plans for the cabins, huh?”

I asked, watching the way her lips twitched.

She leaned in and kissed me, soft and slow.

“Can Shay stay in the cabin?”

I slid my hand to the back of her neck and pulled her closer.

“Are you planning on sticking around?”

I asked instead of answering. I would give Pearl whatever she wanted as long as she was mine.

Her lips were right above mine, breath warm as her voice dipped to a whisper.

“You’re gonna have to burn the island down to get rid of me.”

That was it. That was the last damn thread holding me together.

I crushed my mouth to hers and kissed her like it was the last breath I’d ever take. She made a noise deep in her throat, and her fingers curled in my hair as she shifted. She swung one leg over my hips to straddle me. Her body settled on mine, heat to heat, and I let out a low groan. She reached down, tugged my boxers down just enough, and positioned herself.

She sank down slow, inch by inch, both of us holding our breath until I was fully inside her. My hands gripped her thighs, but she rolled her hips, and I nearly lost it.

She ground against me with slow, deliberate pressure that had my blood surging.

I slid my hands up the sides of her thighs, gripped her hips, and let her move at her own pace. Her fingers tangled in my hair again as our mouths met, hot, hungry, desperate.

The kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

I laid back and let her take control. Her nightshirt was thin and soft and rode up her thighs as she moved. When I slipped a hand beneath it to cup her bare ass, she gasped and rocked harder against me.

“Jesus,”

I hissed.

“You feel like heaven.”

She leaned down and bit my shoulder.

“You talk too much.”

I laughed, but the sound turned into a groan as she sat up and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the side.

The sight of her naked and lit by the faint silver of the moonlight nearly wrecked me.

“You sure you’re real?”

I asked, my voice thick.

She moved faster, and her eyes connected with mine.

“You tell me.”

“Fuck, Pearl…”

Her hands slid up my chest as she started to move more like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. My eyes locked with hers, and I saw everything there: heat, strength, love, fire.

She wasn’t just mine.

She was everything.

She rode me with purpose. Every rise and fall of her hips made the air crackle. The rhythm built between us, fast and wild, until I was sitting up, mouth on her chest, and my arms wrapped tight around her.

We crashed into each other like a storm.

She came first. Her body clenched, and head thrown back. I followed a heartbeat later, groaning her name into the crook of her neck as we came undone together.

She collapsed against my chest. Breath ragged, her heart thudding against mine.

We stayed like that, wrapped in sweat and heat and the heavy kind of silence that only comes when there’s nothing more to prove.

Nothing more to say.

Just us.

Together.