Page 27 of The Hitman's Omega Priest
Bishop made a soft, agreeable noise. “Oh, we are definitely doing that. But only in either the villa’s hot tub, or the lagoon. The regular ocean is too dangerous at night.”
Kensley nearly swooned. “The villa has a hot tub?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will probably be spending most of the next two weeks in there, because I have never been in one, and I have heard only amazing things about them. So yes, naked hot tub time for sure.”
“For sure. How about I give you a tour of the island, before we finalize our plans for the next two weeks? There might be other spots you want to spend time in besides the hot tub.”
“It’s your villa. I’m sure we’ll explore all the pertinent spots at some point or another. I want to see and do everything at least once.”
“That can be arranged.”
Kensley’s heart was beating double-time as he descended the steps, out of the cool interior of the plane and into heat and sunshine and a gentle, salty breeze. The airstrip was a single paved track with a small garage-style building at one end. A man was waiting next to an open-top Jeep, and he waved at them. Bishop waved back. He collected their bags and stowed them in the front passenger seat of the Jeep.
“I’m Walsh,” the man said. He had a build similar to Bishop but was a few inches shorter. He also had a gun strapped to hiship. “I’m island security, sirs. If you have any questions, here is a radio.” Walsh gave a two-way radio to Bishop. “Frequency two. I will be around, both here and in my quarters, but I’ll do my best to give you both privacy for the duration of your stay.”
“Thank you, Walsh,” Bishop replied. “I’m Joseph Reynolds, and this is my husband Mark.”
The names on their passports.
Walsh opened the back door. Bishop helped Kensley up first, and then climbed in beside him. Kensley took in every detail of the lush vegetation, the tall palm trees reaching toward the cerulean sky, the stretches of sandy ground, as Walsh drove down a narrow dirt track. For a good quarter-mile, they were under a canopy of trees and plants, so thick it cut out much of the streaming sunlight.
And then it opened into what Kensley could only describe as a palace. A sprawling, single-story home made of sandstone, with tall, arched windows, and details of painted Mediterranean tiles. A fountain shot burbling water into the sky, and it wasn’t until Walsh parked near the fountain that Kensley noticed the tall iron fence surrounding the place, half hidden by foliage, and the heavy black gate that rolled closed. Keeping the world out.
Walsh carried their luggage through a huge open doorway and into a spacious entry of what Kensley guessed was white marble floors. Air seemed to blow right off the ocean from straight ahead, where he spotted more open doors and windows, as well as a distant sliver of the ocean. The furniture was as high-end and breezy as the house, everything shiny and clean, and Kensley was afraid to breathe, much less touch anything, lest he leave a smudge behind.
“Holy crap,” Kensley whispered.
Walsh placed their bags on a long, bamboo bench, and then pulled a card out of his pocket. Handed it to Bishop. “The security code for the gate is on there, if you need to use the planeor the launch. Call ahead if you want to go off-island, though, so I can turn off the perimeter alarms and make sure we’ve got eyes at your destination. The boss wants you kept safe, and he pays me well to do that.”
“I appreciate it,” Bishop replied, pocketing the card. “I was told we had supplies for two weeks?”
“Yes, sir, you do. But if you’d like something special brought over, I can arrange that for a bit extra.”
Kensley had a feeling that meant an exchange of cash, of which he had zero. His payment as a priest was room, board, and clean clothes. No retirement nest egg, because they were expected to live and die at the abbey.
“The Wi-Fi information is on the card, too,” Walsh continued. “Everything else in the house is pretty self-explanatory, but there is a stack of user manuals under the kitchen sink for reference. My quarters are four-hundred-yards south, far out of sight of the main house, but I’m close for emergencies.”
“Thank you, Walsh.” Bishop shook his hand, and Kensley swore he saw them exchange something. A tip, maybe? “If we have questions, I’ve got the radio.”
“Good enough. Enjoy your stay, sirs.” He left quickly through the big, open doorway.
“This is a dream,” Kensley said, twirling around once with his arms outstretched. He was already overheated in his sweats, and he peeled the sweatshirt off. Dropped it onto their pile of belongings and toed off his shoes. Bare feet felt more appropriate in such a magnificent house.
Beyond curious, he began to explore like he had back at the cabin. The kitchen was almost the same size as the living area, with an attached dining room. All marble countertops and bright white appliances, and the fanciest coffee maker he’d ever seen outside of a catalog. Everywhere he looked were tall windowswith picturesque views of the ocean and wilderness, and it seemed a little strange for a safe house.
“Bulletproof glass,” Bishop said, coming up behind Kensley where he stood, gazing down a stone pathway that led to the beach. A beach he couldn’t wait to explore. “And the fence you saw? It stretches down to the water on both sides, and then out for a good hundred yards. We’ve also got motion sensors and people watching the water. I know it seems open and easy to get to, but we are safe here, I promise.”
“I believe you.” He spun around, grinning. “Where’s the hot tub?”
Bishop laughed then clasped his hand. He led Kensley through the kitchen to a sliding door that opened onto a gorgeous patio made of terracotta pavers and decorated with reddish-tone wood furniture. Teak? He wasn’t sure. Just past the seating area was an enclosed space surrounded by shrubs, a wrought-iron fence, and lots of unlit oil-burning torches. In the middle was the covered hot tub.
“I love this, it’s so secluded,” Kensley said.
“Yes, it is.” Bishop looped an arm around his waist. “Sometime very soon, we’re going to get in that hot tub naked. You’re going to sit on my cock, and I’m just gonna hold you there while we soak and you squirm.”
Arousal shot right to his core, and Kensley gasped. “Why wait?”
