instructed him to turn over, describing the position he would need to move into. He did, pulling his knees up beneath him and leaning forward, his chest on the padded top, his ass in the air.
After another beam of light crossed over him, gauging the exact position he was in, a different motorized arm shifted down, this one with a dildo on the end. It proceeded to slide into his ass. On this one, there was a camera that projected onto the screen, giving the Owner full visibility.
“There are numerous options an Owner can select from. Some don’t require anal probing,” Ransom explained. “Others like to indulge. The intake rooms, where the possessions come when they first arrive on the island, have also been updated with the same equipment. Dr. Tate and Jayda will still be required to screen every possession upon their arrival, but it will no longer require the assistance of others.”
“Efficient. I like it,” Memphis said, turning to Talon. “I assume the marketing is up to us.”
“That it is.”
“Will you be completely functional for the upcoming retreat?”
“We no longer have the need for scheduled retreats,” Talon explained, his arm coming around me once again. “Getting fully automated and better staffed has allowed us to welcome current and future Owners on a regular basis. We’ll still manage occupancy, but we’re aiming for a steadier flow versus an influx.”
A knock sounded on the door, all heads turning toward the newcomer.
Zion stepped into the room, his gaze coming to rest on Talon. “Boss, we’ve got incoming.”
Talon’s arm fell from around my shoulder, taking my hand, his silent request for me to follow.
“Ransom,” I said quickly, “please have Jones returned to the house.”
“Let Memphis handle that,” Zion called out. “Ransom, you’re gonna want to follow me.”
“What’s going on? What does incoming mean?” I asked.
“An inbound plane. Gulfstream, to be exact,” Zion informed us.
“Who’s onboard that plane?”
“Couldn’t tell you, but the registered owner is none other than Trent Ramsey.”
“No one knew he was coming?” Talon asked, peering over at my brother.
Ransom shook his head. “Haven’t heard from him in weeks.”
No one had, I knew.
*
RANSOM
To say Talon was pissed was an understatement. Evidently, the man did not approve of surprise arrivals here on his private island.
Not that I necessarily blamed him.
“How many passengers are logged on that flight?” I asked Zion when we stepped out of the resort.
“Six, including two pilots and one flight attendant.”
“Who’d he bring with him?”
“More importantly,” Talon injected, “why the fuck didn’t he tell us he was coming?”
Knowing Trent, it was because he wanted the face-to-face. I took that to mean he had good news, because it was just like Trent to want to deliver it so he could take the credit.
“Plane landed five minutes ago,” Zion said. “I instructed security to drive him in. They should be here—”
Phones chimed, signaling someone was approaching the resort.
We were nearing the driveway as the Range Rover pulled in, stopped, three of the four doors opening.
Trent was in the front seat while…
“Well, hell,” I muttered, heading to the three men looking around in awe.
“This is nice,” Isaac Stokes said, smiling. “Why the hell haven’t we been invited before?”
“You weren’t invited now,” Talon said, his tone hard, his big body partially blocking Braelyn from view.
Clearly Isaac and his twin brother, Ian, hadn’t gotten that memo. Not if the hard glare they directed at Trent was any indication.
Trent didn’t seem at all fazed, his attention shifting to me. “It’s done.”
Done? Meaning…?
Trent then looked at Talon. Information passed between them with a simple nod, but I had no idea what it meant.
“We apologize for not letting you know,” Ian said, stepping forward, glancing sideways at Trent. “We just figured…”
Yeah, assuming Trent did anything was never a good thing.
“In our defense,” Ian continued, “we thought it was important to come here, share the details in person. Don’t trust electronic communication for this.”
Which told me everything I needed to know.
Talon seemed to put away his anger at the disruption, proceeding with introductions. The new arrivals shook hands with Zion, offered a few pleasantries.
“This is my sister, Braelyn,” I said, doing the honors, although I could see Talon wasn’t pleased. “Braelyn, meet Ian and Isaac Stokes. And this—”
“We’ve met,” Braelyn interrupted, linking fingers with Talon. “Nice to see you again.”
“Why don’t we offer our guests a drink,” Zion suggested when no one said anything more.
Yes. A drink.
Then some fucking details would be nice.
I considered asking Braelyn to let us talk privately, then decided against it. My sister had