Wicked Island Of Ireland - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Unlike Isu, who felt chilled to the bone, the football players seemed unfazed by the weather. Then again, these were men who played in short sleeves and shorts even during heavy snowfall.

“I’ll clean up around here,” she said.

With nothing else to do, she thought she might as well clear out some of the dust accumulating in their shelter. Manuel raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“With what?”

“I have something that might work, though it’s a bit of a shame to use it.”

The football players left, carrying empty cups and water bottles. Isu glanced down at her rolled-up pant legs before calling out toward the lake below.

“Hayden! Hayden!”

Raindrops pattered steadily onto the weeds by the lakeshore. Perhaps due to the rising temperature, a thick mist had formed over the water’s surface.

Hayden abruptly stopped swimming and slowly walked ashore. Water streamed from the edges of his soaked trunks.

But what truly captured her attention were the thick muscles defining his thighs.

They resembled the hind legs of a thoroughbred horse. His legs were extraordinarily long, with a stride twice that of an average person.

She wondered about his security skills. A fit body didn’t necessarily guarantee competence in protection. Perhaps she should make additional preparations just in case.

While considering her options, she looked back at Hayden. He was approaching, water dripping from the gray tips of his hair.

Those droplets traced a path along his elongated collarbone before reaching his chest muscles. They lightly brushed his pale n1pples before settling on his abdominal muscles.

The sight of his clearly defined muscles and bones sent a thrill through her body.

He was getting closer. Isu couldn’t help taking a step back each time his thigh muscles flexed prominently as he extended his legs forward.

“I was wondering if I could cut off the bottom of the pants for cleaning,” she said.

“Why? Are they uncomfortable?”

“No, I wanted to cut them to use as rags.”

As he shook his hair, tepid water splashed against her cheek. The fine hairs on her back stood on end as Jena, who had been sitting listlessly on the floor, burst into laughter.

“So a garment worth tens of thousands of pounds becomes a cleaning rag.”

“Tens of thousands of pounds?”

“I’ve seen that jacket lining pattern before. It must be extremely expensive.”

Hayden seemed unconcerned as he asked Isu:

“I received it as a gift, so I didn’t know it was that expensive. How much do you need to cut off? I’ll do it for you.”

He bent down and sat in front of Isu, beginning to unroll the cuffed pant legs.

His inverted triangular back was fully displayed before her eyes. Wing muscles tightened each time he moved his arms. The curve of his lower back and buttocks made it difficult to know where to look.

Isu squeezed her eyes shut. Better to find another substitute for cleaning rags than be caught with her mind blanking at the sight of his sensual half-naked form.

“No, I didn’t realize they were so expensive. I’ll find something else.”

But the pant legs were already unfurled in his hands, spread out on the dirt floor.

‘What could I use instead?’ his eyes seemed to ask before he spoke slowly.

“You can compensate me additionally when you remember. There are many ways, aren’t there?”

She couldn’t tell what “ways” he might be implying. She could only observe his face from above, noting how remarkably thick his ash-gray eyelashes were.

And those eyes with their navy-blue rims were incredibly attractive. As she felt herself being drawn into the sky-blue that lightened toward the pupil of his deep blue eyes, he continued:

“There are also ways that require no compensation, so don’t worry.”

He then went inside the shelter and retrieved a multi-tool knife.

“Sit down.”

Isu sat on the weeds as instructed, sensing he would make her sit regardless of her resistance.

“If I’d known they were expensive pants, I wouldn’t have thought of cutting them. And you said they were a gift…”

“It’s worth it.”

Worth it? What value could possibly justify turning pants worth tens of thousands of pounds into cleaning rags?

She looked at Hayden with questioning eyes. He pushed her feet further inside the pant legs and placed a stone beneath the hem.

Initially she regretted ruining the expensive pants, but that concern gradually faded. The man kneeling on the weeds with his head bowed, his body leaning forward – it created an unbearable tension.

He positioned himself at an angle and began cutting the pants with his knife.

Zik, zik.

The sound of metal against stone scraped her eardrums.

His shallow breaths continued. His rising and falling shoulders, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his downcast eyes – everything set her nerves on fire.

If s3x involved persistently pressing the body against something, then Hayden seemed to be having s3x with the stone.

Watching such an intimate moment made her cheeks burn. As Isu touched her cheek, his blue eyes glanced briefly at her.

“Like it?”

Like what? Facing him as he asked the question like a man in the midst of s3x, Isu’s lips parted.

“Like what?”

“Having a rag now.”

Thunk.

The pant hem separated perfectly from the rest of the fabric. He held up the two-hand-span piece of black cloth with a light smile.

His expressionless face resembled someone with OCD, but his smiling face had the freshness of a young boy, she thought. Dazed by that face, Isu moved her parched lips.

“Yes, I’m pleased. Using a rag worth ten of thousands of pounds is probably a first for me.”

With a small smile, he placed the opposite pant leg against a flat stone and began cutting. She grew increasingly curious about him, starting with his first love.

“Was your first love really Asian?”

He answered the personal question without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask how you met?”

“By chance. She attacked me while I was minding my own business and had me wrapped around her finger.”

It was surprising to hear he had been manipulated, but even more surprising was his serious expression. Though he appeared flirtatious and even promiscuous, it seemed he had been sincere about that woman.

“That’s hard to believe.”

He pulled the pant leg forcefully as he cut, answering:

“I found it hard to believe too.”

“Is what you’re doing for me just simple kindness?”

That was what she wanted to know. Whether his generosity was mere kindness or something else.

The rhythmic sound of rain added atmosphere but was ultimately just noise. As the silence before his answer lengthened, Isu’s gaze fixed on his lips.

She found his thick, pink lips attractive.

Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t prevent provocative thoughts from dominating her mind.

How many women had those lips enchanted?

How intensely had he kissed them?

Where and how had he licked them?

What compensation did he expect in return for promising protection?

Or was he simply showing kindness?

He broke through her complex thoughts with his answer.

“It’s not kindness.”

The pant hem came away as if gnawed by mice. Isu’s heart felt equally ravaged and disordered.

“You’re quite loose,” she said.

Isu warned herself. Hayden Wight was promiscuous – she shouldn’t fall for any temptation.

As if mocking her thought, Hayden’s lips curved.

“I am loose. But only with people who are worth it.”

Her heart pounded warningly. But Isu couldn’t stop her heart, her quickening breath, or his smile.

Declan and Manuel, who had gone to the shore to collect water, returned. Only when she sensed their approach from a distance could she finally calm her mind.

“Wow, this rain just won’t quit. Wonder when it’ll stop.”

Manuel stood under the red roof, wringing water from his black t-shirt. Declan stood beside him, shaking his wet hair.

“Couldn’t we just drink the lake water? Why go through all this trouble?”

Hayden, sitting in front of them cutting the remaining pant leg, answered:

“Judging by the larvae floating on the surface, the water quality is poor. We can’t drink it without boiling it first.”

Declan nodded.

“I see. By the way, we found a large tent on the shore. Looks like it was used when this island was a tourist destination. It’s in decent condition, so Nate is bringing it back. What have you two been doing?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if wondering if they’d been merely fooling around.

Isu stood up, clutching the cut pant leg like treasure.

“We made cleaning tools. I’m going to clean.”

Manuel, standing next to Declan, looked more interested in Isu’s feet than the cloth pieces.

“What’s that on your ankle? A tattoo?”

He immediately crouched down and lifted the edge of her pant leg.

There was a barcode-like tattoo on her ankle. Below it, the words ‘SOUTH KOREA’ were engraved like an identification number.

“South Korea? So you’re from South Korea? Your pronunciation is so good, I thought you were British.”

Manuel brushed his index finger over Isu’s ankle tattoo. As Isu looked down at the tattoo she hadn’t known about with puzzlement, Declan crossed his arms and rubbed his nose.

“Man, isn’t that racist too?”

Manuel immediately apologized to Isu.

“I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

Declan watched Isu examining her tattoo before muttering:

“If there were more Koreans on this island, we’d have internet within a week.”

The men came down the hill carrying the tent on their shoulders. Nate, leading the group, looked between Declan and Manuel while joking:

“Then capitalist-corrupted white people would show up and charge rent for space.”

DeHart, who was behind them, criticized them:

“Racists.”

Regardless of their conversation, the tent landed safely in the front yard. DeHart dusted off his hands and smoothed his reddish-brown hair.

“This is the only one that isn’t torn.”

The tent was a large rectangular vinyl with metal structures attached. Concrete blocks were fixed to the bottom of the metal poles.

It would probably be fine to set up as is, but if it fell over in the wind, disaster could strike. Isu picked up a branch lying on the ground and began digging into the yard’s soil.

“We should bury the concrete in the ground and place stones on top.”

Manuel, thinking it was a good idea, followed her lead.

Isu glanced at Manuel’s black hair and quietly asked:

“We might need it later, so should we also keep the torn tent vinyl?”

“That’s a good idea.”

The tent installation began. The football players were busy digging the ground with thick branches or stones.

Still seeming unmotivated, Jena sat by the door watching the tent. Hayden, who had been standing by the door, seemed to have thought of something and began climbing the hill toward the shore.

She wondered where he was going. Perhaps to look for more usable tents?

Wanting to find other useful items besides tents, Isu followed behind him.