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.He had a week to kill.He might as well catch up on some sleepwhile he was here.He stood, brushing the sand from the back of his shorts.The boy looked at him warily, expectantly, through his dark lashes.Fuck.That went straight to his cock. Come on, Shaw said, leaning down to pick up his laptop bag. You re with me. The boy followed him. Lisa Henry | The Island 34Chapter FivePacked off to keep busy with Green-eyes, Shaw was on edge.He d shown Vornisthe painting, he d agreed on a price, and now he had nothing to do but kill a few daysuntil Vornis s other guests showed up.Shaw discovered that he didn t really want tospend a lot of time with the boy.He didn t like the way the boy s proximity his breathquickened and his green eyes widened when Shaw came close had him veeringbetween lust and pity.And he couldn t tell which one was more dangerous.He needed to get some space. You run? Hanson asked that afternoon when he saw Shaw sitting on thebungalow steps lacing his shoes.The big man was running as well.His face was red,and his body streamed with sweat.He lifted his arm to wipe his sweaty forehead, andShaw noticed the way his biceps bulged.The hair under his arms was matted withsweat.Not Shaw s type, but he could see the appeal.And there were worse things hecould do than make friends with the head of security.Hanson looked just as intimidating in his sweats and joggers as he did in his blackfatigues with a GLOCK.The man radiated physical strength. Do you mind if I tag along? Shaw asked.Screw the heat, he needed the sense of clarity that only running brought him.Acouple of laps up and down the beach would sort him out.Running in sand reminded Shaw of home.He liked listening to the crunch andsqueak of the sand under his shoes and having his own breaths drowned out by thenoise of the ocean.The sun was slowly sinking into the sea, blazing in its death throes and turning anarrow bridge of the ocean into molten gold.The breeze was cool, chasing away the lastshreds of thin clouds.Tonight, Shaw knew, would be spectacular.It took thirty-five minutes to do a circuit of the island.Shaw guessed that Hansoncould do it faster, but he d slowed down to match himself to Shaw s pace.Shaw coulddo it faster as well, but screw it, it was hot, and he didn t feel like wiping himself outcompletely.And he wanted to take in the view.They passed the other guest bungalowson the way, the jetty, the collection of low buildings on the far side of the islandstorage sheds? and the path that led up to the helipad and the main house.Approaching Shaw s bungalow again, Shaw invited Hanson to join him on theshade of the veranda.The big man agreed, and Shaw slipped inside to grab a bottle ofwater each. Lisa Henry | The Island 35He d left Green-eyes kneeling on the floor by the bed because he had no idea whatto do with him, apart from the obvious.And that was out of the question.The kid hadfallen asleep while Shaw was out.He was lying curled up on his side as though he ddrifted off hugging his knees.One arm was out flung, stretched out across the grassmatting.Shaw could see the bruises and the track marks on the pale inside of the kid selbow.It was probably the most pitiful thing he d ever seen.One of the puncture marks was bleeding.A fresh wound.Had someone been herewhen Shaw was out running?He joined Hanson on the veranda.They sat at the table.Shaw stretched his legs out.His muscles felt tight.It hadbeen too long since he d been on a decent run.He used a treadmill back in LA, and itdidn t give the same resistance as running on sand.Sand was a bastard. Have you dealt in art for long? Hanson asked suddenly.Was this an interrogation, Shaw wondered, or polite conversation? It had to bepolite conversation.He d worked hard to earn Vornis s trust and had a lot of dealingswith Hanson s equivalent back in the States.He would never have made it this far ifthey were suspicious of him. I don t deal in art exclusively. Shaw leaned back in his chair. I facilitate.I putbuyers in touch with sellers, whatever the merchandise. He took a swig of water. I vebeen in business for about six years. You must have started young, Hanson said, looking him up and down.Shaw got that a lot.It didn t rankle.His reputation spoke for him. I did. Hanson s eyes gleamed suddenly. Do you like the kid? Shaw smiled and tasted guilt. Sure.What s not to like? Well, he s docile now, Hanson said. Should have seen him at the beginning.Hefought like a fucking animal. A slow grin spread across his face.Shaw didn t even want to imagine it.He looked out at the ocean. Sounds like youdid all the hard work, and I m getting all the benefits. Hanson laughed. Hard work is its own reward! Shaw laughed as well and marveled at how natural it sounded.Jesus, he didbusiness with some scary fuckers.And he didn t need to know this shit.It was bad enough looking at Green-eyesand seeing what he was.Shaw didn t need to think about what he had been once andhow hard he d fought before they d broken him.Eight weeks wasn t a long time, notreally, but for Green-eyes it must have felt like eternity. Want to see him perform? Hanson asked.Crap. Why not? Lie down with dogs, Shaw thought, and you ll get up with fleas. Lisa Henry | The Island 36Hanson rose from the chair and entered the bungalow.Shaw leaned in thedoorway, absently tracing his fingers along the lines of the carved turtles on the post. Boy, Hanson said.Green-eyes flinched awake, drawing his arms protectively against his chest.Helooked around, blinking his dazed eyes to try to focus, and hauled himself up on hisknees slowly.He reminded Shaw of a newborn foal struggling to find its fragile balancefor the first time.Hanson winked at Shaw.When he spoke, his voice was pitched low. Get overhere, bitch. Don t, Shaw thought, and it shocked him how close he came to speaking the wordaloud.Focus.Watch.Smile.The boy drew himself to his feet.Still hugging his chest, he scuffed his way acrossthe grass matting on bare feet.He stood in front of Hanson and sank back down ontohis knees without even looking up. What do you want, boy? Hanson asked.His tone was severe, but he wassmiling.A shiver ran down the boy s back.The thin scars on his flesh rippled. Please, Mr.Hanson, please let me suck your cock. Shaw s chest constricted.A perfect, coherent sentence, and it was a fuckingtravesty.He wondered how long it had taken them to beat that into Green-eyes.Heforced a smile for Hanson s benefit.The boy looked up.He swayed on his knees slightly.He swiped his tongue acrosshis lips.It might have been hot, Shaw thought, except for his eyes.He was out of it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.He had a week to kill.He might as well catch up on some sleepwhile he was here.He stood, brushing the sand from the back of his shorts.The boy looked at him warily, expectantly, through his dark lashes.Fuck.That went straight to his cock. Come on, Shaw said, leaning down to pick up his laptop bag. You re with me. The boy followed him. Lisa Henry | The Island 34Chapter FivePacked off to keep busy with Green-eyes, Shaw was on edge.He d shown Vornisthe painting, he d agreed on a price, and now he had nothing to do but kill a few daysuntil Vornis s other guests showed up.Shaw discovered that he didn t really want tospend a lot of time with the boy.He didn t like the way the boy s proximity his breathquickened and his green eyes widened when Shaw came close had him veeringbetween lust and pity.And he couldn t tell which one was more dangerous.He needed to get some space. You run? Hanson asked that afternoon when he saw Shaw sitting on thebungalow steps lacing his shoes.The big man was running as well.His face was red,and his body streamed with sweat.He lifted his arm to wipe his sweaty forehead, andShaw noticed the way his biceps bulged.The hair under his arms was matted withsweat.Not Shaw s type, but he could see the appeal.And there were worse things hecould do than make friends with the head of security.Hanson looked just as intimidating in his sweats and joggers as he did in his blackfatigues with a GLOCK.The man radiated physical strength. Do you mind if I tag along? Shaw asked.Screw the heat, he needed the sense of clarity that only running brought him.Acouple of laps up and down the beach would sort him out.Running in sand reminded Shaw of home.He liked listening to the crunch andsqueak of the sand under his shoes and having his own breaths drowned out by thenoise of the ocean.The sun was slowly sinking into the sea, blazing in its death throes and turning anarrow bridge of the ocean into molten gold.The breeze was cool, chasing away the lastshreds of thin clouds.Tonight, Shaw knew, would be spectacular.It took thirty-five minutes to do a circuit of the island.Shaw guessed that Hansoncould do it faster, but he d slowed down to match himself to Shaw s pace.Shaw coulddo it faster as well, but screw it, it was hot, and he didn t feel like wiping himself outcompletely.And he wanted to take in the view.They passed the other guest bungalowson the way, the jetty, the collection of low buildings on the far side of the islandstorage sheds? and the path that led up to the helipad and the main house.Approaching Shaw s bungalow again, Shaw invited Hanson to join him on theshade of the veranda.The big man agreed, and Shaw slipped inside to grab a bottle ofwater each. Lisa Henry | The Island 35He d left Green-eyes kneeling on the floor by the bed because he had no idea whatto do with him, apart from the obvious.And that was out of the question.The kid hadfallen asleep while Shaw was out.He was lying curled up on his side as though he ddrifted off hugging his knees.One arm was out flung, stretched out across the grassmatting.Shaw could see the bruises and the track marks on the pale inside of the kid selbow.It was probably the most pitiful thing he d ever seen.One of the puncture marks was bleeding.A fresh wound.Had someone been herewhen Shaw was out running?He joined Hanson on the veranda.They sat at the table.Shaw stretched his legs out.His muscles felt tight.It hadbeen too long since he d been on a decent run.He used a treadmill back in LA, and itdidn t give the same resistance as running on sand.Sand was a bastard. Have you dealt in art for long? Hanson asked suddenly.Was this an interrogation, Shaw wondered, or polite conversation? It had to bepolite conversation.He d worked hard to earn Vornis s trust and had a lot of dealingswith Hanson s equivalent back in the States.He would never have made it this far ifthey were suspicious of him. I don t deal in art exclusively. Shaw leaned back in his chair. I facilitate.I putbuyers in touch with sellers, whatever the merchandise. He took a swig of water. I vebeen in business for about six years. You must have started young, Hanson said, looking him up and down.Shaw got that a lot.It didn t rankle.His reputation spoke for him. I did. Hanson s eyes gleamed suddenly. Do you like the kid? Shaw smiled and tasted guilt. Sure.What s not to like? Well, he s docile now, Hanson said. Should have seen him at the beginning.Hefought like a fucking animal. A slow grin spread across his face.Shaw didn t even want to imagine it.He looked out at the ocean. Sounds like youdid all the hard work, and I m getting all the benefits. Hanson laughed. Hard work is its own reward! Shaw laughed as well and marveled at how natural it sounded.Jesus, he didbusiness with some scary fuckers.And he didn t need to know this shit.It was bad enough looking at Green-eyesand seeing what he was.Shaw didn t need to think about what he had been once andhow hard he d fought before they d broken him.Eight weeks wasn t a long time, notreally, but for Green-eyes it must have felt like eternity. Want to see him perform? Hanson asked.Crap. Why not? Lie down with dogs, Shaw thought, and you ll get up with fleas. Lisa Henry | The Island 36Hanson rose from the chair and entered the bungalow.Shaw leaned in thedoorway, absently tracing his fingers along the lines of the carved turtles on the post. Boy, Hanson said.Green-eyes flinched awake, drawing his arms protectively against his chest.Helooked around, blinking his dazed eyes to try to focus, and hauled himself up on hisknees slowly.He reminded Shaw of a newborn foal struggling to find its fragile balancefor the first time.Hanson winked at Shaw.When he spoke, his voice was pitched low. Get overhere, bitch. Don t, Shaw thought, and it shocked him how close he came to speaking the wordaloud.Focus.Watch.Smile.The boy drew himself to his feet.Still hugging his chest, he scuffed his way acrossthe grass matting on bare feet.He stood in front of Hanson and sank back down ontohis knees without even looking up. What do you want, boy? Hanson asked.His tone was severe, but he wassmiling.A shiver ran down the boy s back.The thin scars on his flesh rippled. Please, Mr.Hanson, please let me suck your cock. Shaw s chest constricted.A perfect, coherent sentence, and it was a fuckingtravesty.He wondered how long it had taken them to beat that into Green-eyes.Heforced a smile for Hanson s benefit.The boy looked up.He swayed on his knees slightly.He swiped his tongue acrosshis lips.It might have been hot, Shaw thought, except for his eyes.He was out of it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]