octopus floated from its hidey-hole and descended into my palm, wrapping its tiny tentacles around my wrist, and curling out of the water like strange flower fronds.
Both mimics were speckled light brown, muted and content. However, when they hunted or were chased, they could mimic so many things—not just in colour camouflage but movement too.
They could swim like a flatfish, or stalk like a lionfish, or even threaten like a venomous sea snake. I’d done research on the critters ever since Sully had been called to rescue five of them when sea dredging on the main island dumped them from their home, leaving one dead, two seriously injured, and two traumatised.
I’d visited often in that first week of healing and found them utterly fascinating. The fact that they’d only been noticed in the late 90s was a testament to how well they could mimic their underwater world and stay hidden, and the level of intelligence in their quizzical gaze made me think they’d willingly hold a conversation with me if we spoke the same tongue.
The first mimic uncoiled its tentacle from my pinkie in favour of squeezing my thumb. A flash of brown and white over his body warned the other octopus that he’d claimed me.
The other octopus, missing a tentacle and still wounded from the dredgers, puffed up to twice its size and crawled up my arm out of the water.
Sully chuckled. “Guess I have some competition for your affection.”
I grinned and offered my other hand, transferring the suckered tentacles to my free palm and then placing him back underwater. “They’ve certainly made me fall for slippery things.” I laughed as the two octopuses squeezed my fingers, then slipped away, sinking to the bottom where they ruffled up the sand in search of snacks.
“They’ll be released in a month. They’re almost ready.” Sully waited as I rinsed off my hands and wiped them on my dress. He didn’t reprimand about the price tag of my clothing or make me feel as if I should take more care. He just grinned and clamped both hands on my hips to scoot me to face him.
His head ducked, his nose nuzzled mine, and his lips pressed sweetly to my mouth.
I kissed him back.
Soft to start and then harder as he slipped his tongue inside me and quested a deeper kind of connection.
My heart instantly raced. My core liquefied. My entire body set off fireworks. Our conduit of connection hummed with quick-fire need. I moaned, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair.
He pulled away, running his tongue along his bottom lip. “Christ, you turn me on.”
“You can’t keep doing that,” I whispered.
“Keep doing what?” He arched his hips into mine, showing it wasn’t just me affected by our spontaneous kiss.
“Keep making me lose my mind every time you kiss me. You’d think I’d be bored of kissing you after all this time.”
“Bored?” He scowled with mock offensive. “After five years of marriage, you’re saying you want to replace me?”
I laughed. “I’m saying, after five years of marriage, I keep expecting this chemistry to fade a little...after all, I do know everything about you now. I know your deepest, darkest secrets.”
“My only secret these days is that I want you all the goddamn time.” He pressed his hips harder into mine. “And that chemistry you’re complaining about is one of the things I love most about us.”
“The fact that we can’t keep our hands off each other?” I grinned. “That we have a reputation of improper obsession? That the staff whisper behind our backs that we’re high on whatever drugs you’ve been cooking, and it’s made us incapable of surviving without being in each other’s pocket?”
“Precisely.” He chuckled, letting me go and taking my hand to lead me back through the rebuilt sanctuary of Serigala. After Drake’s bomb five years ago, we’d taken our time to landscape, design, and hire the right people. The island was once again a fully equipped, highly successful rehab facility for broken and abused animals. “In fact, I need access to your pockets right now.”
“I’m wearing a dress. It doesn’t have pockets.”
“It’s a metaphor, Jinx. I need inside your pocket. Your hot, wet—”
“Behave.” I swatted his arm. “You had me last night.”
He threw me a rakish smirk. “Exactly. That was hours ago. I need you. Otherwise, the whispers that I can’t survive without you will prove true, and I’ll die right here.”
“I swear you weren’t always this dramatic or mischievous.”
Guiding me forward, he threw me a besotted,