up with fury, driving both of us into agony, bruising me internally and externally, frantic to spend what final time we had together.
And, in a moment of horrifying, mind-crippling yearning, I wished it was Sully.
The second his sculptured, cultured, stunning face entered my thoughts, my body detonated with every stick of dynamite left in the world.
I screamed as wave after agonising wave splintered me apart.
I couldn’t rid myself of Sully’s voice, his scent, and his achingly blue eyes. I climaxed with his name on my tongue, his creation all around me, his punishment within me.
In my haze and floating down from the soul-searing orgasm, I barely noticed when the man jerked and jettisoned inside me. I flinched as he stroked my spine. I mumbled with burnout as he withdrew and laid me gently on the furs beside him.
“Thank you, Jinx. For the best fucking night of my life.”
I curled up tight, no longer wanting to be touched.
He kissed my forehead, smoothing back sweat-tangled hair.
“You’ve captured my heart.” His voice wavered with frustration and fury. “I’m afraid I’ll never get it back.”
I should say something.
I should do something.
But…I’d finally reached my limit.
Elixir let me go.
My eyelids snapped closed.
My body shut down.
And I slept.
Chapter Three
RAKING MY FINGERS THROUGH my hair, I wedged my elbows into the desk.
My eyes hurt from the bright sunshine spilling in through my open driftwood doors. The base of my skull throbbed from dehydration. And the lactic acid in my limbs from last night had stuck around, tormenting me even after a full eight-hour crash.
I never usually slept that long. Normally, I was up with the sun, annoyingly attuned to the lightening world, and unable to ignore the call to work.
Not this morning.
This morning, I had the hangover from hell, thanks to far too much physical activity.
I blinked and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to wrangle my erratic concentration into paying attention to my emails.
Skimming my inbox, I placed the correspondence relating to my lab and questions from my team of scientists into one folder, deleted the junk and propaganda I had no interest in, and went to log off.
A swim would help.
The cool, salty water could wash away the dregs of my pain.
Afterwards, perhaps I wouldn’t feel like shit.
My mouse hovered over the shutdown button. My gaze snagged on a new email that flashed with fresh delivery.
The traffickers.
To: S.Sinclairgoddessisles
From: 89082gmail
Subject: New Addition
We have received your employment request. However, due to unforeseen complications, we are pausing our recruitment services for a few weeks. We will resume business as soon as possible.
I groaned.
Fuck.
Even the scum of the underworld had sentenced me to suffering. I couldn’t even order a new girl to distract me from Eleanor. Then again, the way my body hurt this morning, the last thing on my mind was sex. Plus, I had an entire island of willing, beautiful goddesses…I could just choose one of them.
Perhaps, Jealousy could be a good alternative? She was the closest thing I had to a female friend in this place. She was honest about her intentions toward me. I had no sixth sense that she said one thing but meant another—unlike I did when Calico came sniffing around. Jealousy had already asked if I could keep her past her four-year contract, regularly helping my day staff in the kitchens and willingly hosting water sports and other guest activities. She’d gone above and beyond just being a goddess in Euphoria.
She’d proven she would be an asset to my team in other ways, not just selling sex. Maybe she’d be an asset in my bed too?
Fuck.
I dug my fingers into my temples, massaging the agony pulsing there. Jealousy was pretty, kind, and honest, but…the idea of keeping her as my own? Of sharing a bed with her?
Nope.
I couldn’t do it.
There wasn’t a…spark.
Not like with…
Shut up.
Don’t think about her.
Sitting straighter in my chair, I threw back a glass of cucumber-iced water that a staff member had brought in an hour earlier then resumed my task of working.
Screw my swim. I would just work through my foggy pain and get on with it.
I’d just clicked on an email from Peter Beck, my head scientist over at Sinclair and Sinclair Group, when Cal knocked and came in without waiting for my approval.
His habit of barging into places without an invitation had become highly inconvenient.
“Nice of you to wait for admittance.” I scowled, hoping he got the memo.
He shrugged. “Got things to do. No time to waste.”
“One of these days, you’re gonna barge in somewhere