The Island 03

Kennedy

She stepped out of the shower and dried of her dripping body. The red skin from the piping hot water glowed under the soft bathroom light. She wrapped herself in a towel, covering her erect nipples and freshly shaved pubic region.

She opened the door without looking in the peephole, expecting Karla. Instead, she was greeted by Jean. He was still in the same uniform as before. The red and white outfit looked different in the morning though. Maybe it was because she had slept? Then again, it might have been the lighting was different, and she could see he was a very well built man.

"Good morning, madam," he said by way of greeting and bowed.

"Damn, Jean," she responded with a giggle. "Apparently you don't know many equestrians. We aren't that used to propriety."

"All the more reason to display it, madam."

"Call me Kennedy, please," she said as she turned away from the door, leaving it open and walking back into her room. She let the back of the towel dip to display her exquisitely contoured back. "What can I do for you?"

"I have been sent to assist you in getting ready for your orientation, Ma...," he began before stopping. "Kennedy."

"Assist how?"

"Your clothing in your closet, I am, what you call...an expert."

"All I have are jeans and t-shirts. The kinds of things used to break and train horses." She began to walk away from the door, the back of the towel now revealing the top of her butt. A small crease peeking a little. He stared at the sight for a second, then stepped in the room and shut the door.

"The hotel has provided a few accommodations for you. A courtesy for the unexpected things that could happen." Kennedy could feel his eyes on her, and as usual...she loved it. She started to react beneath her towel. Her nipples hardened again, her pussy lips began to glisten.

"What are you talking about?"

Jean walked around her placing a hand on the small of her back as he passed. It was a gentleman's maneuver, not a sleazy way of touching skin. It was soft, gentle. He moved across the floor with grace, finding a set of double doors on the other side and swung open both in a dramatic style.

The doors opened up into a room larger than her entire apartment. On the right were dresses hung and organized by color, scarves and wraps displayed above the dresses most appropriate for them. The back wall were shelves and drawers of shirts, pants, even lingerie and underwear. On the right, the entire wall was made up of shoes...more than she could ever imagine.

There was a large vanity to the right of the doors on the back wall, with a giant, round mirror that supported light bulbs all around it. It looked like something from 1930's Hollywood. Just like the rest of the decor. The middle of the room was occupied by a large, round bench, with a circular back going up the center, like the chairs you would see in the hotel lobbies or bars. This one though, was covered in fur.

"Oh...my...God..."

"Yes, my dear," Jean said as he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the room.

He took her straight to the wall of dresses and skirts and down the colors until he stopped at the greens. He peeled through them one by one, and Kennedy began to thumb through them. With Jean pulling one hand, and her flipping through the fabrics, she almost didn't even register that the towel was on the floor.

She stopped and noticed it, then just kicked it away, towards the chair. Jean was looking at her, taking her all in, making her shiver with lust. She turned toward him, letting his eyes get an unimpeded view of her glorious breasts and her, now dripping pussy. He looked, but his face revealed nothing. He handed her a forest green, knee length dress.

"Try this," he said before walking to the door. He turned and grabbed both knobs, before pulling them shut he took one last look. "It was a pleasure madam."

She knew she looked damn good. She stood in front of the floor to ceiling mirror and stared at herself. How long had it been since Kennedy had been dressed like this? The Opening Ceremony for the Olympics? Who cared, she was hot.

She turned to go out the door and picked up her towel. She remembered Jean briefly. She would have bent over that chair and let that beautiful black man with the manners and hinted french accent rail her all day. She could tell by the way his uniform covered him that he was well built. He worked out, which meant stamina. Hell, maybe he could go all day.

The thought sent shivers down her spine. If she had more time, she would revisit that shower from last night. What the Hell was wrong with her? Last night she would have let Karla lick her body clean, then tasted every inch of her before grinding her pussy against Karla's until they were both spent. This morning...Jean. She was obviously, unquenchably, horny.

It had been too long since she had felt someone's touch other than her own. She had been masturbating for the entire fucking farm back home, but no one had ever approached her. She had a date months ago, but he was a douche and wasn't about to get in her pants. That meant it had been almost a year. No wonder she was struggling. It was time, she needed one of them. And she didn't much care which.

She exited the room and found Jean in the hallway. He awaited her and greeted with another bow. He lifted his arm and motioned for the elevator. "You look ravishing." With that he led her down the elevator and out of the hotel to the drive, where a car awaited.

It was a short drive around the block to another building, which looked more like an office building. She looked up as she was coming in and could see there was a reflection looking back over the ocean in the all glass facade. She noticed there was a helicopter coming off the bank, headed for the building.

She was taken to the top floor and stood outside of a large, glass office. She stood to the side when Karla walked up behind her. The driver of the vehicle was dismissed by the sight of her. He walked away from Kennedy without a word as Karla came to a stop outside of the office.

"Good morning, Kennedy," she said as she opened the office door.

"Indeed," she responded. "What is this place?"

"This is our main office," she held the door. "The top executives in the company work from here on occasion."

"No," she said as she walked into the office. "I mean, what am I doing here? I haven't seen anything hinting an equestrian program. And what is with the closet?"

"What do you mean?"

"It is bigger than my apartment back home, which wouldn't be all that surprising," Kennedy motioned down at her dress, fitting perfectly. "But, everything is my size. What the Hell is going on?"

"All will be explained, I promise."

"Please," a new voice said. Kennedy spun in her chair and took notice of the man standing at the door. He was beautiful. He was in a black t-shirt, his arms and chest filled it out exactly the way it would in a catalogue. He looked like he was photoshopped straight from a magazine. His hair was cropped short with what looked like a two day stubble. She was so enamored by his general appearance, she almost missed what he said next. "Explain it to us both."

"I will, Lincoln," she stated as she motioned for a seat. "As soon as the rest of the group gets here."

"The CEO of Brantly Media is on the roof as we speak...what does he have to do with why you brought us here?" The question was pointed, less like an inquisitive curiosity, and more like an accusation.

"What?" Kennedy was playing catch up. She knew something wasn't right this morning in the closet, but she had no idea, and this man was apparently brought here same as her, only with more information. Which did nothing but piss her off. "What is Brantly Media?"

"How could you possibly know that," Karla asked.

"You told me."

"I most certainly did not." Lincoln came into the room, but stayed at the back, with his back pressed up against the glass wall, that overlooked the beach and the ocean.

"Relax," he said, holding out one hand to calm her. "I am not an idiot. When you came to see me at the bar the first night to introduce yourself, you were in business clothes. I saw a security badge in your bag for a company I had never heard of. That is why I turned you down to begin with. I don't work with people I don't know.

Then, when you came to my apartment that night, you knew a lot about me, too much about me. So I decided I would humor you. I had to find out who would seek me out. You see, I have a bit of a past that could have created some enemies. And I had to make sure you weren't one.

On the helicopter here, I noticed the same emblem from the security badge. But, I got a lot more time to look at it. And I realized something, The logo on the badge, and the logo on the helicopter were a mural."

"A what?" Kennedy was trying to pay attention, she wanted the answers, but his lips were distracting.

"A mural, there were four logos, mixed into one."

"How could you have possibly seen that," Karla said, genuinely dumbfounded.

"I sat on that helicopter for a long time, stared at it a lot."

"What logos," Kennedy interjected.

"A finance investing firm, a legal consulting firm, a real estate company, and Brantly Media."

"Who is Brantly Media?"

"It is a multi-billion dollar corporation, actually bigger than Disney and Warner combined."

"How could I not know this?"

"They keep a low profile, don't advertise themselves, and I wouldn't have known either, but the two owners of the company...Lucas Brandt and Lee Wilson...were killed in a helicopter crash two weeks ago."

"Brandt and Lee, Brantly, cutsie." Kennedy said, unimpressed. "Again, what does that have to do with me?"

"Like I said," Karla said in defense mode. "All will be explained."

At that moment, the door to the elevator opened and three people stepped off. The first was a man that was immaculate. His suit was freshly pressed and fit him perfectly, contouring his body. The second was a carbon copy of him, only a little shorter and less impressive. And the third was a girl, she was in a navy skirt suit, which failed to keep her curves subtle. She had hips that accentuated her small waist, and complimented her incredible bust. Kennedy subconsciously crossed her arms, covering her more modest chest, wishing she had opted for a wrap.

"Lincoln, Kennedy?" The immaculate man said as he reached his hand out. "My name is Robin Canterberry."

"I know who you are," Lincoln said as he shook his hand, staring at the woman.

"But do you know who YOU are?"

"What do you mean?" Kennedy looked from person to person. Lincoln, or so he was called, was looking at the third woman in the room, and why the Hell not? She had a short, blonde, pixie cut that showed off a long neck. Even Kennedy stared. What bothered her though, was the look of recognition. She seemed to be the only one there that was clueless to what was happening.

"I am sorry," Canterberry said. "I am getting ahead of myself." He motioned to the other two that entered with him. "This is Jeremy Collins, he is our legal representative. And this vivacious number is Katia Winters, she is a journalist, here to capture this moment."

"What moment!?" Kennedy said with a little more frustration. She was ready for answers.

"Kennedy, my dear, we are here to change your life."

Lincoln

Katia...holy shit. He stared at her without the ability to look away. He remembered her of course. Her hair was different, she used to have long, dark hair. She used to be harder, slimmer and darker, like she had spent every day on the beach, or in the desert. If Lincoln remembered correctly, her body looked just as good with both.

He had met Katia when he was in Iraq. He was with the Special Operations Group when the tenacious war correspondent found herself behind the wrong line on the right map. She was picked up by Al-Queda insurgents that planned to sacrifice her on the internet to spark some followers and other misguided intentions. Lincoln had come upon her, found his way to her holding area, a dark room with a dingy mattress, and the two of them made it out alive. The next two months had been a blur with the two of them in bed...and a lot of other places.

He was unsure if she remembered him the way he remembered her, until she bit her lip. Sure fire way to know what she was thinking. She remembered, she remembered all of it. Even why they parted ways. He shook it from his head and brought himself back to the moment.

"Change our lives how?"

"How much do you know about the owners of this company, Lucas Brandt and Lee Wilson," Canterberry asked.

"Only that they died a few weeks ago," Kennedy answered.

"But, their lives before that were filled with adventure, wonder, and failure."

"Please," Lincoln said, "Get to it."

"Very well. Lucas was a brilliant businessman, charismatic and charming. Everyone loved him, everyone did whatever he asked, without question. Not manipulation, it was a genuine leadership quality.

" Lee, she was a finance guru. She was one of the smartest people that I have ever known, and was the yin to Lucas' yang in a lot of ways. They were the best of friends and the two brightest business people that I have ever known.

"By the time they passed, this company was built to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate. There are very few places in this world that we don't touch. Hell, very few that we don't own. They set all of us up to succeed for the next fifty years in a lot of ways."

"A lot of ways," Lincoln asked.

"They had no families. They were so dedicated to their work that they left zero time for free time."

"I am going to ask you this one more time," Kennedy said. "What in the Hell does this have to do with us?"

"Kennedy, Lucas and Lee were your parents."

Lincoln and Kennedy both stared at him dumbfounded.

"As of today," Canterberry said. "You two are the richest people in the world."

Kennedy

Everyone was silent. The weight of the bomb that was just dropped on them both was astronomical. Kennedy looked at Lincoln, for no other reason than to see his reaction. And maybe that rigid jaw of his. His expression was blank, no reaction, no emotion. They had just found out that the richest people in the history of mankind were their parents and he looked like he was watching Jeopardy.

"That is impossible," he finally said.

"I assure you," Canterberry responded. "It is completely possible. It is the verifiable truth."

"I will put the verifiable part to the test," he said. Kennedy watched as they had a stare down that would have been impressive in any other situation.

"What..." she began to choke out. "How?"

"I am sure you don't need a step by step instruction on how."

"You know what I mean," she looked down at the table in front of her. "I remember my parents. I grew up in a small town, in Northern California. They took me to riding lessons, my dad drove my trailer until he died a few years ago. My mom, she was my best friend my whole life. She died when I was thirteen."

She let the memories flood back and even fought back some of the emotion that came with it. She confirmed it in her mind, her parents had died, and they had been far from rich growing up. She looked at Lincoln, and made note of the fact that he didn't protest the possibility that his parents he grew up with were not real.

"I am sorry, Kennedy," Canterberry said. "There is a very good explanation."

"Who the Hell did I grow up with then?" She was beginning to get incredulous. No, she was getting angry. Her parents had always been there for her. It just wasn't possible "I remember my parents, I remember them very well."

"Please, if you both have a seat, I will explain."

Lincoln was looking directly at the reporter, his face didn't betray his feelings at all. He was stone cold. He reached for a chair and began to sit. As he was, he made notice of the man standing at the door. He was security, his black suit and sunglasses like something out of a bad movie.

"Lose the detail, or have him stand in front of me," Lincoln said. "I don't like it when assholes stand behind me."

The security agent looked at Lincoln, Kennedy didn't have to see his eyes to know they were burning. He took a quick three steps to Lincoln and placed his hand on his shoulder, Lincoln didn't even flinch.

"Sir, I am here for the protection of Mr. Canterberry. I will continue to stand where I need to in the interest of his protection."

To Kennedy, it was lightning, she barely saw it happen. Lincoln had grabbed the man's wrist and snapped it, throwing the security guard's face into the table. She heard it smash into the wood, the man didn't call out, he was already unconscious.

"Jesus!" Kennedy jumped out of her seat and watched as the security person slumped to the floor, his nose red and crooked. Jeremy Collins froze in fear, she was pretty sure she saw piss hitting the floor. Karla stood staring at Lincoln, biting her bottom lip. Kennedy knew that look, she had it earlier at the thought of Jean bending her over in the closet. The reporter, Katia, had a grin. It was an odd, almost melancholic, knowing grin. Like she had seen it before. Canterberry didn't budge, he just stood and watched.

"I would suggest," Lincoln said as he shoved the security guy's feet aside and sat down, "you get to explaining. And quickly. Oh, and maybe invest in expensive close quarter protection instead of five thousand dollar suits."

"Very well," he said, with an actual chuckle. "This was his first day, I guess my ability to choose security personnel is lacking. Lucas Brandt and Lee Wilson were very dedicated to building their empire. They spent so very much time here that they were convinced that they would never make great parents. They both made the decisions together to put you in homes that they knew would take care of you."

"Take care of us better than they could?"

"Yes."

"Bullshit," Lincoln got up to leave and Kennedy watched his movements, smooth and deliberate. "Fuel the helicopter and take me back to my life." He got to the door and turned around, addressing Karla this time. "Keep your fortune, and keep your thirty-thousand dollars."

Lincoln

Lincoln rushed out of the room, getting away from everyone before his face flushed. The last thing he wanted to do was show weakness, which he always felt negative emotion was just that, in front of people who knew more about him than he knew about them. He almost made it to the elevator before he heard someone stepping up behind him.

"What the HELL was that?" Karla had wasted zero time coming after him. Which told him that she wasn't surprised at his reaction, and therefore, he had very little reason to hold back.

"You lied to me. I am out."

"I didn't lie to you," she claimed as she moved in front of him and stood between he and the elevator. "I just omitted certain details."

"I don't want to be involved with anyone who feels the need to omit anything from me. Omission is something dishonest people have to do." He was beginning to get frustrated as the high floors were causing him to wait a torturously long time for the elevator to reach his floor.

"Isn't that part of the military?" She moved to block him as he was futility trying to press the button, knowing it wasn't going to speed the elevator up. "Need to know?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I left the military. Why do you think that was?"

"You no longer wanted to fight where you couldn't control." She remained in front of him as the elevator door dinged behind her. "You need to be in control"

"No, I decided I was no longer going to pull the trigger based on half the information. I decided that if I was going to take a life, I needed all the information. Now, if you please."

She remained in his way, defiantly looking at him. Her cold stare holding strong to his. She felt the sensation again...his hard stare adding to his intensity. He reached out and grabbed both of her upper arms, she felt his tight grip squeeze around her, she felt tiny. He then lifted her up, at least a foot off of the ground. She was simultaneously hit with a sense of shock and extreme arousal. He spun around and set her back down, his back to the elevator.