Chapter 24: Paradise

The sun was warm on my skin, the sound of waves washing over the beach rhythmic and soothing. I took a sip of my mai tai, looking up at the Grand Mauna Resort behind me. Five-star luxury. White stone façade, massive columns framing the entrance, balconies overlooking the ocean with views that probably cost more per night than most people's mortgages. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, and staff in crisp white uniforms moved efficiently between poolside cabanas.

We'd gotten pretty good at this.

Emma could jump into anyone high enough up the chain—someone at the airport, a manager at a travel agency, the concierge at a hotel—play with their memories a bit, and suddenly we had first-class tickets, ocean-view suites, spa packages, the works. All it took was a touch and a few minutes of manipulation. They'd wake up thinking they'd made the arrangements themselves, maybe as a favor to a friend or a mix-up in the system they'd already resolved.

We didn't even need Luciana's money anymore. Though we kept a healthy cushion just in case. It was easy to get some money here and there, where it wouldn't be missed.

My eyes drifted to the woman a few feet away. She'd shown up about twenty minutes ago, laid out a towel, stripped down to a red bikini that left very little to the imagination. Early twenties, maybe. Tanned skin, long dark hair pulled into a loose bun. And her body… Jesus.

I took another sip of my drink, trying to be subtle.

Where was Emma, anyway?

She'd gone to the spa about an hour ago, in the body of some cute guest we'd picked out at the pool yesterday. A tourist from Seattle, traveling alone, doing the whole "find yourself" thing post-breakup. Perfect host. No one expecting her anywhere, no obligations, just open-ended vacation time.

Still, I felt that familiar anxiety creeping in. I always did when Emma was out of sight for too long. Even though she'd been so much more careful since the incident. No more jumping too many times in a day. No more staying in one host too long without a recharge. We had a system.

But she still seemed… different.

Distant, sometimes. She'd get this look in her eyes, far away, like she was remembering something she couldn't quite put into words. She'd mentioned it a few times, what it felt like to almost fade away. How close she'd come to just… dissolving into nothing.

That's why we were here. A vacation. Sun, sand, relaxation. Trying to remind her that life, whatever form it took, was still worth living.

My gaze drifted back to the woman on the towel.

She was applying sunscreen now, squeezing a generous amount onto her chest. Her hands worked the lotion over her breasts, and I couldn't look away. They were huge, natural, the way they moved and bounced slightly as she rubbed them down. The red bikini top was struggling to contain them.

Fuck, she was hot.

She looked up suddenly, catching me staring. Her expression shifted from neutral to annoyed in an instant.

I looked away quickly, shame heating my face.

What the hell was wrong with me? Ever since Emma started jumping from woman to woman, I'd gotten… careless. I found myself checking women out more openly, evaluating them, imagining what Emma would be like in their bodies. It was fucked up. I knew it was fucked up.

And my first thought when I saw this woman? That I could ask Emma to jump into her. That we could go back to the room and I could fuck her in that body.

I felt guilty immediately.

"Enjoying the view?" the woman called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or do you need a closer look?"

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, sitting up straighter. "I didn't mean to—"

"You didn't mean to stare?" She stood up, hands on her hips, walking toward me. "Really? Because from where I was sitting, you were practically drooling." She moved closer, and I could smell her sunscreen, coconut and something floral. "What is it about women that makes men think they can just ogle them like pieces of meat? You like watching women rub lotion on their tits?"

She squeezed her breasts through the bikini top for emphasis, and my face went even redder.

"Is that what you're hoping to see?" she continued, her voice sharp but with something else underneath. "Does it get your poor little prick all hard?"

Before I could respond, she reached down and grabbed me through my swim trunks. I gasped, my cock already half-hard from watching her, now fully responding to her touch.

"I—what are you—"

"Shh," she said, still looking annoyed, still scolding. "You wanted a show, right? Wanted me to act like in your dirty fantasies?" She glanced around quickly, making sure no one was watching, then reached behind her back and unhooked her bikini top. It fell away, and her breasts bounced free. "Here's your show, then."

She pushed my face between them, and I was surrounded by soft, warm skin, the smell of sunscreen overwhelming. She was smothering me, and I couldn't breathe, couldn't think—

Then she moaned. And laughed.

I pushed back, grabbing her wrists, holding her at arm's length. She was grinning now, biting her lower lip, all traces of annoyance gone.

"Emma?"

She laughed again, louder this time, straddling my lap. "Surprise."

Relief flooded through me so fast I almost felt dizzy. "Jesus Christ."

"I spotted her in the spa," Emma said, still grinning. "Jane. She was getting a massage and I thought, 'Calvin would like her.'" She rolled her hips against me. "Was I right?"

I relaxed, my hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. "You're terrible."

"I know." She leaned down and kissed me, and I tasted something different: mint gum, maybe, and something sweeter. Her lips were fuller than the last host's, softer. Her body felt different too, curvier, heavier in the best way.

I kissed her back, my hands sliding up her sides, feeling the new contours, the way her breasts pressed against my chest. I felt guilty for a second—I'd been ogling her when I thought she was someone else—but the relief and arousal were stronger.

"Still, that was stupid of me," I admitted when we broke apart. "I should've been more discreet."

"You really should have," Emma agreed, her tone teasing. "Very uncool, Calvin. Women aren't just bodies for you to stare at, you know. We're human beings with thoughts and feelings and—" She broke off, laughing. "Okay, I'll stop. Jane would've given you a whole lecture. She takes it very seriously."

"I noticed."

"But yeah, you should've been more subtle." She leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear. "At the same time, I was definitely trying to get your attention. It was funny watching you squirm."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're evil."

"Maybe a little." She sat back, still straddling me, still topless. "So. You like Jane?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I really do."

She grinned. "Good. We'll keep her for a bit, then."

We kept going, our hands roaming more freely now. She ground against me, and I could feel how hard I was getting. My hands cupped her breasts, and god, they were incredible. Heavy and soft, filling my palms completely. The skin was smooth, warm from the sun, and when I squeezed them gently, they yielded perfectly: not too firm, not too soft. Natural. When she moved, they bounced in my hands, and I couldn't stop myself from kneading them, feeling their weight.

She moaned, arching into my touch, her nipples hardening under my thumbs.

"Fuck," I breathed.

She laughed breathlessly. "I usually hate the attention these get. Guys just stare, you know? Can't have a normal conversation. Though I'll admit, sometimes I use it to my advantage. Free drinks, getting out of parking tickets…" She trailed off, her expression shifting slightly. "My ex was obsessed with them. Wouldn't shut up about them. It got old."

She stopped herself, shaking her head, then looked at me with a softer expression.

"But for you?" She pressed my hands more firmly against her breasts. "You can have them as much as you want."

I groaned, pulling her into another kiss.

"We should probably—" I looked around. A few people were glancing our way now. "This might not be the best place."

Emma pulled back, grinning. "Our suite?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god, yes." Her enthusiasm was palpable, and I realized she was channeling Jane's reaction to seeing the room for the first time. "I mean, my room is so shitty. Like, the cheapest thing I could get because my stupid ex maxed out our joint credit card before we split, and I'm barely scraping by as it is."

I helped her tie her bikini top back on, though it was a struggle with how much I wanted to keep touching her. We gathered our things and headed back toward the hotel.

The suite was on the top floor, and when I opened the door, Emma gasped.

"Holy shit," she said, walking in slowly. The space was massive—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, a king-size bed with pristine white linens, a separate living area with a curved sofa, and a fully stocked bar in the corner. "This is insane. How much does this even cost?"

"Don't worry about it," I said, closing the door behind us.

She wandered around, touching things—the silk curtains, the marble countertop, the bottles at the bar. But her movements were practiced, confident. She knew exactly where everything was. She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the bar fridge and two glasses, pouring us both drinks without having to search for anything.

"To vacations," she said, grinning.

"To you," I countered, clinking my glass against hers.

She took a sip, then set her glass down and pulled her bikini top off again.

"Now, where were we?"

"Now it's time to recharge," Emma said, her hands already working at my swim trunks. "Lucky you."

I snorted. "I've never heard you complain about it."

She paused, grinning. "That's true. But you have to admit, it's kind of cheating. I automatically get incredibly horny and **** for you, especially after a long day like this. It makes it really hard not to enjoy every second of it."

I grabbed her waist, pulling her against me. "Sounds like we both enjoy it, then."

"Yeah," she breathed. "We really do."

I kissed her hard, my hands sliding down to cup her ass. She moaned into my mouth, her fingers finally succeeding in pushing my trunks down. My cock sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around it immediately, stroking slowly.

"God, I need this," she whispered against my lips.

I walked her backward toward the bed, our mouths never breaking contact. When her legs hit the mattress, she fell back, pulling me down on top of her. I kissed my way down her neck, her collarbone, until I reached her breasts again.

I took my time with them. Kissing, licking, sucking. They were magnificent, and I couldn't get enough. When I took one nipple into my mouth, she arched off the bed, her hands tangling in my hair.

"Fuck, yes," she gasped.

I switched to the other breast, my hand kneading the one I'd just left. They were so soft, so heavy. I could play with them for hours.

But Emma had other ideas. She pushed at my shoulders. "I want you in my mouth."

I groaned but didn't argue. I moved up her body, and she shifted, getting on all fours on the bed. I knelt in front of her, and she immediately took me between those perfect lips.

"Jesus," I breathed.

She worked me with her mouth and hand together, her tongue swirling around the head, her lips tight around my shaft. She took me deep, and I felt the back of her throat. She pulled back, gasping, then did it again.

I wanted more. I wanted all of her.

"Lie back," I said, my voice rough.

She did, sprawling across the white sheets, her body on full display. I pulled her bikini bottoms down and off, tossing them aside. Then I spread her legs, settling between them.

She was already wet, glistening. I ran my tongue through her folds, and she cried out, her hips bucking up.

"Oh god, Calvin."

I licked and sucked, focusing on her clit, sliding two fingers inside her. She was tight, hot, her inner walls clenching around my fingers. I worked her steadily, and it didn't take long before she was trembling.

"I'm gonna—oh fuck, I'm gonna—"

She came with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around my head, her whole body shaking. I didn't stop, keeping the pressure steady, drawing it out until she was pushing at my head, oversensitive.

I pulled back, kissing my way up her body. When I reached her mouth, she kissed me hungrily, tasting herself on my lips.

"I need you inside me," she panted.

I positioned myself at her entrance and pushed in slowly. She was so wet, so ready, that I slid in easily. We both groaned at the sensation.

"Fuck, you feel good," I said.

"Harder," she urged, wrapping her legs around my waist.

I started moving, slowly at first, then faster. The bed rocked beneath us, the headboard tapping against the wall. Emma's breasts bounced with every thrust, and I couldn't stop watching them.

I reached down, grabbing one, squeezing as I fucked her. She moaned, her nails digging into my back.

"Yes, yes, just like that."

I changed the angle slightly, hitting deeper, and she screamed.

"Right there! Oh god, right there!"

I kept hitting that spot, driving into her over and over. She was babbling now, a stream of curse words and **** pleas. I felt her tightening around me again, getting close to another orgasm.

"Come for me," I growled.

She did, her body convulsing, her pussy clenching around my cock so hard it almost hurt. The sensation pushed me closer to the edge, but I held back, wanting to make this last.

When she came down, I pulled out. She looked up at me, dazed.

"On your knees," I said.

She scrambled to comply, getting on all fours. I moved behind her, admiring the view for a moment—her ass in the air, her pussy still glistening—before pushing back inside her.

This angle was even better. Deeper. I grabbed her hips and fucked her hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chanted, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the sheets.

I reached around, finding her clit, rubbing it in time with my thrusts. She was shaking again, her arms giving out so she was chest-down, ass-up.

"I can't—I'm gonna—"

She came again, screaming into the mattress, and this time I couldn't hold back anymore. I was so close.

"Emma," I gasped. "I'm—"

"In my mouth," she said quickly, pulling away and spinning around. She knelt in front of me, opening her mouth, sticking out her tongue.

I stroked myself once, twice, and then I was coming, spilling into her mouth. She moaned, swallowing everything, her hand replacing mine to milk every last drop, her mouth clamping around me like she was starving for it.

When I finally finished, she let me slip from her mouth, swallowing one last time. I collapsed onto the bed beside her, my chest heaving.

I could feel it, whatever energy seemed to flow around us whenever Emma made me cum. I was used to it, expected it. But lately it was different, slightly off putting. It felt pushed, like something going against the current.

For a moment, we just lay there, catching our breath. Then I noticed the change.

Emma had gone quiet. Too quiet. She was staring at the ceiling, her expression distant, empty almost.

Was she fighting against it?

"Emma?" I said, sitting up slightly.

She didn't respond right away. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Ever since the incident at the festival, she'd get like this after we had sex. Right after recharging, when she was most herself, she'd just… drift away. Then over the next hours, as she started fading slowly, her moodiness would recede, replaced by the host's personality.

I moved closer, wrapping my arms around her. "Hey. You okay?"

She started crying. Silently at first, tears just streaming down her face, then with small, choked sobs.

"It's wrong," she whispered.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling her tighter against me.

"Being here," she mumbled. "It's wrong."

"Hawaii?" I asked, confused. "We can leave if you want. We can go anywhere—"

"Yes. No. Maybe." She shook her head, her words coming out broken. "Here. HERE. Alive."

My blood went cold. "Emma—"

"I shouldn't be here," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Don't say that." I held her face, making her look at me. "I'm glad you're alive. I'm so glad you're with me."

"I'm not," she said, fresh tears spilling over. "I'm not really alive, Cal. And I shouldn't be here."

"Emma—"

But she'd shut off. Her eyes went blank, staring through me rather than at me. I held her for another moment, but she didn't respond. Didn't move. Just lay there like a doll, crying softly.

I let go slowly, standing up. My hands were shaking.

I walked to the bar and poured myself a drink. Whiskey this time, neat. I downed it in one go, then poured another.

I didn't know what to do. Didn't know what to think. Maybe this would pass. Maybe she was just traumatized from almost fading away. Maybe she just needed time.

I stood there, drinking alone, staring out at the ocean through the massive windows.

Behind me, I heard her move. Footsteps on the plush carpet.

"Calvin."

I turned. She was standing there, wrapped in one of the hotel robes, her eyes red from crying.

"I want to go home," she said quietly.

I sighed, setting my glass down. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "We'll go home."

---

Hey there! This was chapter 24 out of 28. Expect chapters regularly.

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