Rookery Cove (Print)

Rookery Cove (Print)
Kira Stone, Emma Ray Garrett, Stephanie Burke, Jade Buchanan, Lacey Savage & Tuesday Morrigan
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Kira Stone, Emma Ray Garrett, Stephanie Burke, Jade Buchanan, Lacey Savage & Tuesday Morrigan
Excerpt from Breakwater

Dew cast a wet blanket over Gavin McNye's campsite on the coast of Rookery Cove Island. Climbing out of his small tent, his first priority was to find a place to relieve himself. Brambles snatched at his bare legs as he navigated through the low scrub. He zipped up the windbreaker jacket he wore in lieu of a shirt to keep the bitter north wind from stealing his body heat. Still, he shivered. For summer, it was damn cold.

He'd been given permission to camp on Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs' land where it butted against the small private sector at the northern tip. It afforded him the quiet mornings he loved without losing touch with the environmental problem he was here to investigate. However, camping meant he had to take a long hike to reach modern conveniences, such as a restroom, or deal with what he could find nearby.

A small thicket of pine trees served as nature's bathroom. Gavin then returned to camp to start coffee brewing on the two-burner Coleman stove he'd set up under a blue tarp the previous day. Being so near the ocean, literally a stone's throw away, everything would soon be caked with a sheen of salt, including him. That suited him just fine. Far preferable to waking up with sand in every orifice, or spiders.

At least the salt didn't bite.

He'd have to be careful with his laptop and scientific equipment though. Again, that just came with the territory.

This time, his territory happened to be the breakwater and surrounding environs owned by a highly successful adult toy and aphrodisiac company. Off the coast of Nova Scotia, Rookery Cove Island looked much the same as its larger neighbor. Lots of rocky coastline, pine trees, and wildlife. Wild blueberries dripped from big, healthy plants scattered over the low hills. Raspberries too, if you could get to them before the gulls and other island birds did.

Gavin poured himself a mug of black coffee, taking it straight since that was easier than hauling extra sugar and powdered cream to the remote places he often traveled. He carried it down to the shore where a heavy morning mist rose from the water. He sipped the bitter liquid as he thought back to what he'd learned about Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs yesterday.

Gavin knew of several successful companies who were panicked about the possibility of corporate espionage, but RC Aphrodisiacs seemed to take paranoia to a whole new level. First of all, they were better guarded than a virgin at a nymphomaniac rally. Not only did he have to surrender his GPS unit so he couldn't dial in on the exact coordinates of the island, they'd made him stay below deck for the trip out on the company owned supply boat. He was pretty sure they'd driven around in circles before reaching their destination to distort his sense of how much time the trip actually took.

Things only got stranger once he'd arrived on this large hunk of rock. As an outsider, he expected to be greeted with some suspicion. He was there to look for the source of their trouble, and there was at least one person on the island who wouldn't want him to find it. That didn't account for the way he felt as though he were being watched by a thousand hidden eyes. He'd been warned by John Stubbs, the company's operations manager on the mainland, to expect circumstances that defied explanation. He thought John had been referring to secret ingredients for their exclusive products, or some weird production process.

Now Gavin was convinced he'd meant the employees. There was nothing he could put his finger on yet. Just a sense that something was off, and not only in the water surrounding Rookery Cove.

He took another sip of liquid caffeine, and watched the fog eddy and curl over the rocks dividing the breakwater from the more tumultuous ocean current. It almost seemed to defy nature, struggling to forge its own path in the cold morning air. Any number of natural phenomena could account for that, but his brain wasn't yet wired enough to wrestle with the possibilities. He'd check it out later.

Right now there was another part of his body that needed a physical release. His morning woody wouldn't stand down. In truth, he'd been horny ever since he stepped on the island, not surprising after the night he'd spent reviewing the aphrodisiacs and other adult products they offered on their website. So now, before he met the two managers whose flurry of emails to the Home Office prompted his involvement, he'd shower Mother Nature with a token of his esteem…

Riiiiiight.

What he really wanted was to get off with a friend or two. Unfortunately, that opportunity came along less often than a blue moon when his job kept him on the back end of civilization. The male creatures he'd met there weren't exactly his type. At least, not of the species he was willing to swap spit with. Rookery Cove was shaping up to be the same kind of place… remote, friendless and lonely.

So, unless a compatible mate fell out of the sky or washed up on the rocky shore, a quick wank would have to do. Again.

Gavin finished off the last gulp from his mug and set it on the rocky outcropping he'd climbed over to reach the water's edge, leaving the safety of the calm breakwater behind him to stand in front of the untamed ocean waves. He found a comfortable niche in which to rest his back and spread his legs wide. The water lapped at his feet. His hiking boots would get a little damp, but that was bound to happen anyway.

His fingers slipped the button at the top of his shorts. The zipper followed slowly, as if he were performing a striptease for whoever might be behind those hidden eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere. He let go of the tab halfway down, stroked the dart of red hair that bisected his belly, and could almost imagine a lover's groan of impatience.

"Want this, do you?" Gavin said out loud as his hand continued under the zipper to stroke his still-restrained cock.

Yes, a whisper of wind carried back to his ears.

Mind games, he concluded. Another way of playing with himself. It hurt no one, so why not dress up his fantasy a little? Being on an island that created products designed to enhance one's sexual experience practically cried out for something different. Something a little more… imaginative than a hard, fast solo ride.

The thin jacket he wore hung open. He pushed the sides back to reveal his nipple ring. Only on the left. It'd hurt so damn bad that he hadn't been able to stand getting the other one done that day, and then he'd moved on to a new patch of swamp. So now he was left half and half. Fitting, as so many things about him were polar opposites. Perhaps he'd convince a boyfriend to split a matched pair. Some day. Until then, he had one of his very own to play with.

He twisted it between his fingers. The pleasure/pain sent a jolt of lust to his cock. The crown of his shaft now peeked out above the half-lowered zipper. It throbbed in time with his beating heart, breaking out of its cloth prison on its own.

Sexy, the wind whispered to him. Or was it coming from the waves? Gavin didn't much care either way. It made him feel natural, wild, uninhibited. And for some reason, he wasn't disturbed by the thought that someone might be watching him.

Spray whipped up by the wind lashed against his exposed skin, like a lover's playful slap. It provided enough wetness to make his strokes an easy glide. Long, gentle caresses with a little twist of his fingers at the end to rub the ultra-sensitive head. "Yeah, baby, just like that."

The screeching of a gull momentarily startled him into opening his eyes. Some winged avian, something large and gray, soared in circles high above him. Later he'd get his binoculars and find out what could possibly be that big, living out here. Now he had more urgent matters to attend to…

Just as his lids started to slowly close, returning him to his inner erotic vision, a particularly large wave came rolling into view. He tried to reclaim his previous groove, but something about the water's behavior nagged at him. Another glance told him he was right to be nervous. The oversized wave was now racing toward him. In several seconds the mini-tsunami would crush him against the rocks, grinding him into shark bait.

Gavin braced himself to take the massive hit, curving his body and placing his hands over his crotch to shield his dangly bits as much as he could from the water's knockout punch. When his body failed to be pulverized, he cautiously peeled open one eye. The second soon followed. Then he outright gaped.

A column of water, about six feet high and perhaps a third as wide stood -- actually stood -- before him. From somewhere near the region where a mouth would be on a human, sound issued forth in an upbeat, somewhat gargled fashion. "Want help with that?"