Nightmares Rise Read online

  “Ewww,” he replied. “Better than a beer belly I suppose. I need to find a gym and pay it a visit. I did go for a run this morning. Was that only this morning?” He looked thoughtful and then shrugged.

  “Stick with me long enough, and you won’t need the gym. Why bother when you’ve got miles of trails to run, a whole ocean to swim and surf in, monsters to chase you . . . willing female to burn calories with?” She ran her fingers around his navel in a lazy circle, a little smile playing on her lips.

  “And don’t forget helping you with your laundry,” he added. “Maybe we should do that instead of seeing my family. Although, you did mention surfing in shark infested waters. Let’s do that and take the kids. Then we don’t have to outswim the sharks, just the kids.”

  He laughed as she scoffed and sat up over Flynn. “You’re horrible!” Her fingers dug into his ribs, and she started tickling him with no mercy. “I’m gonna tell them what you said! Bad Uncle Flynn!”

  He started writhing. “Have mercy, have mercy,” he begged breathlessly. “They already know I’m bad. I’m the black sheep of the family, remember?”

  She stopped and laid herself across Flynn’s chest. “There ain’t nothing wrong with being the black sheep. Just because you wanted something different doesn’t make you ‘bad’.” She laid a kiss on his lips and smiled. “Besides, you’re too cute to be bad!”

  “Wanna bet?” he challenged. “You ain’t seen how bad I can be yet.” He slipped his hands up the back of her shirt and caressed her skin. He returned her kiss.

  Makani broke off for a moment. “Is that a promise, or a threat?” She leaned her head down and started to nibble his neck, her tongue licking out against his skin. He tasted good, and she wanted more of him.

  “How about both?” He pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it aside. “How bad do you want me to be?” His hands moved down to the top of her shorts

  “As bad as you want.” Her fingers crept over the band of his pants as she moved back in to kiss him, her tongue darting out to lick his lips. She managed to flip his shorts open.

  “Pretty bad.” He slid her shorts down and her panties with them. His hands found the soft, warm skin of her rear. “I want you.”

  Makani drew in a sharp breath and moaned softly. “Not as bad as I want you,” she said, as she bit gently at his lower lip.

  “I think we’re even.” His tongue slid across her lips, probing into her mouth.

  She answered him with another moan. Her tongue danced around his, as she held tight to his shoulders. Eyes closing, she let herself get lost in the moment, her whole body trembling as Flynn worked his magic on her.

  If she was in her right mind, Makani might have felt bad for letting go and concentrating on her own pleasure. But he was doing just enough to keep her distracted, her lips parting to draw shuddering breaths. Nails dug into his flesh, and her hips moved on their own volition, the sweet warmth starting to spread in jolts through her whole frame.

  Her eyelids fluttered shut as she got lost in the rhythm of the moment. Makani drew a sharp breath in as she decided they were ‘making love’, and not just ‘having sex’. For someone who firmly believed that a person only ‘made love’ a handful of times in their whole lives, this was something to be savored. Pressing her lips back against his, she opened her eyes, wanting to see the pleasure in Flynn’s.

  She finally managed to ask, “Is this . . . being bad?”

  His only response was a soft laugh.

  Makani came down, her eyes opening slowly to see Flynn watching her as if he couldn’t believe she was there. She swallowed and sighed.

  “Where have you been all my life?” She ran a hand through his hair, smiling gently at him. “Australia,” he replied. “Then drinking fruity cocktails in bars, wearing bad Hawaiian shirts. And you . . . you’ve been right here. Right?”

  Her eyes rolled to look up, then left and right. “Yeah. Maybe not in this pleasant a position, though.” She laughed quietly, her hands coming to rest around his neck.

  “Of course not.” He moved to lie beside her. “Has anyone told you how amazing you are?”

  “No.” Most people didn’t get a chance to get to know her. Apparently, it was a dangerous thing. Makani nuzzled into that special place between his chin and shoulder, letting a hand trail over his chest. “I could ask you the same thing, handsome.”

  “No. Frivolous, impatient and bloody-minded, I’ve been called all of those things,” he replied, stroking her hair. “Never amazing. Although occasionally ‘amazingly’ has preceded those other words. Their loss I suppose.” He shrugged.

  “That’s what I say!” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I don’t . . . I don’t do this. But I’m gonna miss you when y’go.” She smiled sadly, and settled back down against his shoulder.

  His expression turned solemn. “I don’t want to go,” he admitted. “There’s not really anything for me back home. Only . . . I don’t think they’ll let me stay past my visa. I don’t really have any skills the country can’t do without. Well—” his grin returned, “—Not marketable ones.”

  “No, I don’t think a photographer is really in demand.” She looked up at Flynn, “And being good in bed doesn’t get you citizenship. Unless you’re a mail order husband.”

  “I knew I should have put that on my website,” he joked. “You want to buy a husband?” he asked, putting on a silly but obscure accent. “I can cook good. I clean too. And I don’t eat much.”

  “I’d love to buy you, but I can barely afford the property taxes on this shack.” She laughed and sat up, “Let’s get to bed, and see if you can’t convince me to harbor a fugitive from INS.” Swinging her legs over the back of the couch, she smiled over her shoulder and started down the hallway to her bedroom.

  “I knew you were a rebel.” He laughed. He followed her like a lamb until he passed a window.

  “Bloody hell!” His sudden exclamation made her jump.

  “What? What is it?” She ran back from her room, a quilt clutched against her chest.

  He pointed at the window. “I think that thing followed us after all.” His voice shook. He was locked eye to eye with the glowing thing from the cemetery. “The Will o’ the Wisp thing.”

  “Uhhh . . . . uhhh . . . . back away. Just back away from the window.” She tugged his arm gently and tried to remember what would get rid of this kind of thing. “Hinotama . . . fireball . . . akualele . . . Will o’ the Wisp . . . ” she chanted under her breath, trying to jog her memory.

  He stepped back and at some point, it must have been enough because he tore his eyes away and fixed on her. “I could google it? My phone is in my pants.”

  “Google can’t answer everything!” she snapped, her nails digging sharply into his bicep. “Salt, sand, crucifix, fire, water, the Lord’s Prayer, Hail Mary, sneeze, curse . . . curse! Mother fucker!” The fireball flickered just a little.

  Flynn snorted. “What?”

  “Son of a bitch, shitty asshole, mother fucker!” A long stream of curses fell from her mouth, and the thing fizzled once, twice, and disappeared. She looked up at Flynn and shrugged, “Pardon my French?”

  “None of that was French,” he pointed out. “I think you offended that thing, though.”

  “No . . . well, kind of. You swear at it, and it goes away. That’s how you get rid of them.” She pulled the quilt tighter around her body and looked at Flynn from head to toe. “Did you know you’re flashing my neighbors?”

  “I’m probably ruining your reputation. Maybe we should move on to your bedroom. I’d hate to attract any weirdos. More weirdos,” he added.

  “It’s not the weirdos that I’m worried about. But come on, before something comes up and tries to bite your dick off.” Which, at this point, was a very real possibility. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the master bedroom.

  “Good point. I am quite attached to it.” He let her pull him along again until they were out of sight. Then he put his arms aro
und her and pulled her to him. “Maybe if we’re loud enough and swear enough, we’ll make sure nothing comes near us all night,” he suggested.

  “We can try.” She angled his chin down and kissed him, trying not to think about the things that were outside her house. “Think you can do what you did on the couch, again?” A dark eyebrow arched up as she issued the challenge.

  “Oh, which thing?” he teased. “I seem to remember at least three things. You might have to tell me. Or show me. Whatever works for you.”

  Makani pushed him back onto the bed, dropping the quilt as she moved over his sprawled body. She nuzzled into his neck, her lips soft against his pulse, “I have all night to show you.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Flynn yawned and rolled over. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was, but it was warm and comfortable. He opened his eyes slightly. Peeling paint and faded wallpaper. Makani. He rolled back over and found her fast asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he slipped out of bed and dressed in last night’s hastily discarded shorts. His shirt, he threw over a chair for later. He checked his phone and found another message from his sister. She and the three terrors would be at his place at around eleven a.m.

  Great.

  He shoved his phone back into his pocket and put on some coffee before searching around for something he could use to make breakfast. He found flour, eggs, milk and fruit. The milk smelled fresh and the eggs weren’t out of date yet, so he started making the mixture for pancakes. While he mixed the ingredients, he hummed tunelessly.

  “Hey, you really can cook. I might consider keeping you around as my personal assistant.” Makani leaned against the wall, her eyes still half-closed. She took a deep breath and smiled, “And you made coffee. Perfect!” Padding the couple steps over, she wrapped her hands around his middle and laid a kiss on his shoulder.

  “I have many skills. I’m not sure getting your cooker to work is one of them, though.” He squeezed her hand with one of his and tossed chopped strawberries into the batter.

  “You probably won’t. But . . . ” She let Flynn go and squiggled under the kitchen sink into the cabinet, rummaging around. When she slid back out, her hands were full on an ancient electric griddle. “This works most of the time.” Makani plugged it in it started to heat. “And it’s gonna work today. Yes!”

  He held up his hand for a high five which left his hand stinging. Rubbing it, he said, “That’s lucky, I don’t think I could face the terrors on a belly full of raw batter, fresh fruit, and coffee. I couldn’t even find any cold pizza.” Not that he was looking for it very hard. “There’s a few jars you might want to throw out. And a loaf of bread green enough to cure the plague. He smiled indulgently. Moldy bread just added to her charm, although food poisoning wasn’t on his list of things to do today.

  She caught his hand and nibbled on his fingers. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering whether to send that stuff to biohazard, or just bury everything.” Giving him a cheeky grin, Makani poured them both coffee, and sat on the counter beside him as he worked. “So, what time and where are we meeting your family?”

  “They’re turning up at eleven, so we should get there at around two, to make sure they’ve gone.” He spooned some batter onto the griddle. “Are you sure you want to meet them? They might make you look at me differently. And not in a good way. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree and all that.” Although compared The Terrors, he considered himself more of an orange; sweet, juicy and possibly adopted.

  “For reals, I can handle a few kids. I’ve taken all my nieces and nephews at one time, and had them back to their parents a few days later, clean, fed, and totally happy. Besides—” she craned her neck to look at him with a little secretive smile.”—I think I handled you pretty well, last night.”

  He grinned. His mind went back to the intimate details of the long, long night. “Yes. Yes, you did.” He flipped the pancake, let the other side cook for a few minutes, then flipped it onto a plate, then poured the batter for a second one. While it cooked, he rolled the first pancake and held it up to her mouth.

  “Here, tell me what you think.”

  She shrugged and took a bite off the proffered pancake, and chewed thoughtfully. Her eyebrows raised in surprise and she nodded, “Yeah . . . I need to keep you around.”

  He grinned and took a bite himself. “Not bad, if I say so myself. If we keep eating like this, we’re going to need all that running and surfing. And suk suk.” The dimple in his chin showed. He flipped the next pancake and put it in front of her.

  “I usually eat way worse. But then, my job usually has me active seven days a week. You’re lucky this is the slow season.” She picked the pancake apart, fishing out the bits of strawberry first, before eating the ripped up pieces. “I’ll be grateful for a couple little sightseeing tours over the next two weeks.”

  “Maybe I could go along and take pictures of the tourists and sell them to them for some inflated price,” he suggested. “Tourists love that sort of thing, don’t they?” As if he wasn’t one of them. He was about to add something but held up a hand as his phone tooted.

  “A message from the The Terrors.” He turned the phone to show her a picture of three faces, aged 8, 10 and 12, squashed together, tongues sticking out, eyes bugged out like frogs. Each had a set of rabbit ears, courtesy of the fingers of their sisters. “Aren’t they charming?” He rolled his eyes and put the phone down on the bench. “I’m surprised they didn’t throw some snot in there somewhere.

  “I think they are! But I got a soft spot for kids.” She looked at the picture and smiled indulgently. “Tell me about your sister.”

  “Emma?” He shrugged. “She’s loud. She’s the only person I know who’s proud to call herself a bogun. She got married a year or two after high school, to the biggest loser in western Sydney. She supported him for a few years as a checkout operator while he set up a business. The bastard now owns a string of used car yards across Sydney. The loser is now a self-made millionaire. He drinks like a fish and looks like he ate a Great White shark. But they can afford expensive holidays.” He shrugged. They were prime examples of the old saying that money can’t buy class or taste. Not that Flynn could lay claim to those things either. Classy or tasteful wouldn’t have even bought his Hawaiian shirt, much less actually worn it. He did have to commend his sister, though. She had worked damn hard for everything she had.

  “Huh . . . well, she sounds like she’ll blend right in with everyone around here!” Makani hid a smile behind her coffee cup. “When you’re done with breakfast, we should get down to your place before the landlady thinks you’re harboring illegal immigrants.”

  “They might get deported.” He looked cheerful. “But so might I.” His expression immediately fell. He made the last pancakes and put the griddle aside, full of water, to soak.

  “I highly doubt you’ll get kicked off this rock. We harbored Ferdinand Marcos’ body from the Filipino government for decades. If we’ll keep a dead man on ice, you and your family are pretty safe.” She started cutting up another pancake, and dug into it with a passion.

  “They’d harbor my sister, she has a shoe habit like Imelda.” Especially anything in black. She’d have a dozen pairs of the same pump, as long as it was black. He ate his last pancake in two bites and washed it down with coffee. “That wasn’t bad. And no dancing trannies. That’s got to be a bonus, right?”

  “What if I like the dancing trannies? They’re really nice to me.” She winked and sipped her coffee, “But that was so good. I usually survive off energy bars and coffee.”

  “Yuck,” he said. “Not the coffee, obviously, I’m not totally nuts. Coffee is nature’s . . . coffee.” He laughed. “Coffee and chocolate should grow on the same tree. Same with avocados, limes, and chicken.” He picked up his phone, shoved it back in his pocket and pulled his shirt off the back of the chair. “And cheese and tomato.”

  “Hey, I’m always on the run! Energy bars are handy!” She opened the cabinet next to the fridge,
revealing an astonishing stash of the cardboard and fruit treats. “That and my oldest brother manages a vitamin shop.” Makani went to put on something decent and packed her bag with the usual essentials for an outing she was involved in planning.

  “Yuck”, he said again.” He watched her walk away and looked around for his camera. He didn’t remember putting it on the table, but there it was. He put it around his neck and pulled his shoes back on. He paused while he did it, wishing he could take them back off, follow her to her bedroom, help her back out of her clothes and then . . .

  He sighed.

  She appeared back in front of Flynn, her bag stuffed with whatever she needed, plastic buckets strapped to it, and old cardboard boxes under one arm. “What were you thinking?”

  “Hmm? Oh, I was thinking about you,” he admitted. He grabbed the boxes to take some of the weight. While he was at it, he gave her a kiss. “I was thinking that I’d much rather stay in bed all day. But when do we get everything we want?” Not often enough.

  “You can have me all night if your sister and her family don’t stay for dinner. How’s that?” She whispered, running a fingernail over his chest. “Until then . . . ” She looked down and smiled, “Down, boy!” Makani started outside, the cats parting from the door when she swung it open.

  “You’re killing me slowly.” Flynn carried the boxes outside. He had no intention of his family staying for that long, but they tended to have minds of their own. They might just as easily stick around for a week. He threw the boxes into the back of the jeep and climbed into the perilous passenger seat. If he could survive her driving, she could survive his family. On the other hand, if he didn’t survive her driving, he wouldn’t have to deal with his family. Truthfully, and possibly deep down, he was looking forward to seeing them. He got few chances even when he was in Australia, what with everyone having such busy lives. It was crazy to live in the same city, but see each other once or twice a year. If he ever went home, he’d have to try to remedy that.

  On the drive down, Makani flipped through the radio stations, finally settling on Elvis and the Rolling Stones. She was screaming along with the songs as she wove through the light traffic on the freeway. She even made an effort not to run over a motorcyclist that was trying to get around her.