The daring, provocative novel that reveals the secrets and glamour of the Jet-set society on the golden isle of Palm Beach. Three young women pay an immeasurable price to obtain what was rightfully theirs... Nancy, the beautiful and beloved daughter of the most powerful man in America--torn between her love for John and the hidden wrath that separated them. Debbie, the Admiral's daughter and Molly, the slim vivacious lover that would give John the love and support to vindicate the deaths of this parents.
Excerpt
”Everything is sweetened by risk.” -Alexander
Smith, Dreamthorp
Chapter 3
The sun rays of the new morning burst over Pensacola
beach like a fine mist of liquid color. The rising sun in the
east was a ball of light so intense that the sugarcoated beach
sparkled gemlike.
All of the discomforts afforded by the irritating sandy
mattress were forgotten by the glory of this moment. The
excursion had already become quite an adventure for Nancy.
She was thrilled with her participation in something as new as
sleeping on a deserted Gulf Coast beach with the man of her
dreams.
John was beginning to stir as the heat of the sun warmed
his face. In a moment, he would be awake.
Reaching over his firm, hairless chest, Nancy kissed him
tenderly in hope of gently awakening him. As his eyes slowly
opened, a smile began to form at the corner of his mouth.
Provocatively and softly, Nancy spoke the first words of
the morning. “I don’t know what’s more gorgeous, waking
beside you or viewing the magnificent sunrise.”
Playfully, Nancy began tickling John’s sides.
“I’ll race you to the water,” she challenged with zest
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in her voice. As she stood, her blouse was already fluttering
to the sand.
By the time John had lowered the zipper on his corduroys,
Nancy was halfway to the crisp, tingling water. Her path was
marked by a trail of discarded clothing. It began with her pale
blue blouse and ended with her black laced silk panties.
The base of the sun’s sphere was touching the gulf-lined
horizon when John finished taking off his briefs. Through the
corner of his eye he glanced over at the sleeping bag adjacent
to him. It remained untouched from the night before.
As he stood, his ruddy skin was burnished by the sun.
Nancy was already coated by the transparent fluid of the gulf.
It highlighted every contour of her visible body.
Nancy was wolf-whistling and jumping frantically in the
water as John proceeded toward her.
“Hey, big boy, why don’t you come in? It’s cold in here all
by my lonesome,” she shouted in a suggestive voice.
With a leap, John dove headfirst into the calm water.
He did not surface from the depths until his head appeared
between Nancy’s slim, white naked thighs. Her elegantly
rounded derriere was supported by his aggressively broad
masculine shoulders which angled downward to his narrow
waist.
John paused out of breath before displacing Nancy’s full
body toward a padded bed of salt water.
She retaliated by guiding her hand to his arching phallus.
Her manicured fingers investigated the velvet-soft length of
him. The blood quickened between her thighs. The game of
tag had taken on a new dimension.
He kissed her softly on her neck and felt his maleness
touch the outer lips of her vagina. Gently, she guided him into
her opening. Satisfied with her guidance, she wrapped her
legs around his hips and her arms around his neck.
She was just beginning to appreciate the sensations
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growing between her legs when John’s movements abruptly
ceased.
“What’s wrong?” she panted. “I’m on the pill, so don’t stop
now!” she said.
John was straining his eyes trying to peer over Nancy’s
shoulder. 1Wo figures were approaching toward them. They
were barely visible in the distance, but John decided that their
privacy was in jeopardy. He withdrew from her private
crevice, the cold water creating an unpleasant environment
for his erect penis.
“Someone is coming,” John cautioned.
“It’s not me,” Nancy replied. “I haven’t even started
breathing hard,” she concluded with a smirk on her face.
Holding her hand, John rapidly guided her out of the water.
Swiftly, they gathered Nancy’s garments as they returned to
the beach blanket. They rushed to dress, but the droplets of
water that clung to their bodies slowed their pace. John’s
thighs itched from the moisture that had soaked into his
Levis.
Relieved that the trauma was now over and that they were
decent, John questioned the whereabouts of Paul.
“He is probably still digging,” Nancy reasoned. “You know
how anxious he is to see Debbie.”
“He could have dug the Florida Barge Canal by now,” John
joked.
Before the intruders had reached the abandoned love nest,
John and Nancy had both returned to the Corvette. Both were
pleasantly surprised to find that Paul had freed the car from
the wretched sand.
Nancy was the first to discover Paul and was prepared to
awaken him by tickling his bare feet, but John discouraged
her.
“Let him sleep,” he whispered. “We’ll go for a walk.”
Meticulously, John placed the sleeping paraphernalia in the
rear of the car.
Minutes later they were walking the shoreline. Time
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passed quickly. The sun was positioned high in the sky when
they returned.
“Next time, let’s spend the night at Howard Johnson’s’,”
Paul began, between yawns.
Since Nancy and John had both been satisfied with the
outcome of their venture, neither one responded to his
comment. For them it had been a wonderful homecoming,
and nothing could interfere with their memories.
John changed the subject, asking Paul how long it had
taken him to free the car. His story was revealed with
emphasis on the insensitivity of the patrolman who had
passed him by. Sharing the experience made up for being
unable to disclose his victory earlier. It also helped him to
overcome the knots that were beginning to form at the pit of
his stomach. His nervousness was increased as they
approached the gates of the Naval Air Station.
It wasn’t until Nancy had left the car that Paul even noticed
that the automobile had stopped. Ending his daydream, he
arose to get out.
John was already on the front porch of the colonial styled
house shaking hands with Admiral Hawkins when Paul
closed the door of the Corvette.
Nancy was reminiscent of a mother reassuring her son on
his first date as she followed Paul up the wooden stairs to
their on looking hosts.
It wasn’t until everyone was formally introduced that
Debbie awarded Paul with a great big hug. This eased the
maternal protectiveness Nancy reserved for Paul. As an only
child, she had always wished for a brother and Paul helped to
fill her void.
Nancy’s mother was possessive of her husband’s affections,
and children threatened to upstage her. For this reason,
Nancy had been an unwanted child, an accidental conception
that now taxed her father’s love and attention. Nancy knew
this and wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
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The rooms in the house were large and impressive. The
furniture was old and charming. Priceless antiques and
nautical relics complemented the burnished decor. It was
evident that Hawkins worshipped the sea.
John was a seaman of sorts. He had been known throughout
the island and in Boca Raton and Stuart as the youngest of the
regatta captains, holder of the record from Palm Beach to
Grand Bahama Island. He was also renowned for his unerring
nose for fish. He rarely returned to the docks of the Sailfish
Club of Florida without a blue marlin or sailfish.
“I understand you’re quite a sailor.”
“Why, yes,” John said to Hawkins in surprise.
“What’s that?” Nancy teased. “He’ll fall overboard one
choppy day. He’s a rotten sailor. I’ve taught him the little that
he knows about sailing.”
“I’ll match the wits of both of you tomorrow on our fortytwo
foot sloop,” Hawkins challenged. “Mind you, she’d never
win the prestigious America’s Cup Competition, but she’ll
hold her own with an experienced crew.”
“We’d like that, sir,” Nancy acknowledged.
The Admiral was adjusting his uniform and maneuvering
toward headquarters as Mrs. Hawkins guided the guests into
the dining area.
She graciously offered the weary travelers some brunch.
“You must have something,” she pleaded, motioning the
youngsters toward a large buffet which had been prepared.
“By all means,” Paul asserted. He liked Mrs. Hawkins and
was quick to fill her in on the current news and gossip from
the island community of Palm Beach. She had missed all of
the excitement and glamour since moving from the beautiful
island a year ago.
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A poignant story about letting go of a narcissist in your life. Have you ever been attacked FULL force by a narcissist? It's the closest thing to being stabbed over and over in the back.
