Bare In Bermuda (25 page)

“Don't go on our account,” Romeo said. “There are plenty of chairs. I have had very little opportunity to get to know you. I would like that very much.”

“Henna.” Eden huffed. “I said I was sorry for teasing you. Just let it go already.”

“It's fine,” she said. “I’m…I have to do something.” Like run away from Gloria.

“Like go and find my father?” Gloria asked. “Because I just saw him having coffee with Fatima. In the lounge.”

“Gloria!” Romeo barked then said whatever he wanted to say in Spanish. Whatever words he used just made Gloria shrug one shoulder and smile as she flicked a hand. In the lexicon of body language, Gloria pretty well told Romeo to fuck off.

Henna looked at Gloria for a brief second. In that moment, she appreciated dark sunglasses and their ability to mask expressions more than she probably ever would again. “Like go to my room and get ready for tonight,” she said.

Leo rose from the table. “Come on, I'll walk with you.” He grabbed his towel, put an arm around her, and walked her away from the table before she had a chance to crack Gloria in the side of the head with her purse.

“Is it me or is she a total bitch?” she asked her brother.

“She is a total bitch.”

They walked through the lobby, passing by the lounge. Eduardo sat with Fatima in plain view of the door. He had an arm around her shoulders and his lips pressed to her forehead.

“That could be a giant misunderstanding,” Leo told her.

“You know what,” she said. “I just don't even want to go there right now.” Instead of continuing to the elevators, she turned and went to the reception desk with Leo following her.

The woman who had been on duty when she arrived gave her a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Can I get my room keys blocked and changed?”

“Of course.”

Less than a minute later, she walked across the lobby with her brother and her new room keys.

“You realize that really was probably nothing,” Leo repeated. “He's into you. I don't care how much money he has, no man buys—”

“That was me throwing a blender,” she said. “I'm a blender thrower now.” She furiously typed a text into her phone, informing Eduardo that she knew where he was, who he was with, and that he'd better think twice about darkening her doorstep ever again. She hit send after a moment’s hesitation. When the message was gone, she felt both elated and terrified.

“Is that supposed to make sense?”

“Ask Simon to explain it to you.”

As they rode up in the elevator, she sent Simon a text.
I just threw my first blender.
His response came less than a minute later.
You go tiger!

Once behind her hotel room door, Henna had a moment to panic.
What if he never darkens my door again?

Then he never darkens your door again. And that's okay because from now on you are going to be that person who makes you feel fabulous. You might even start buying gorgeous jewelry for yourself just because you want to.

But there was still a chance he might respond and she had to be ready. She quickly untied the pareo and tossed it in a ball on the dresser. What to do was the question. A question she didn't have a moment to answer when a distinct pounding on her door nearly gave her a heart attack. No matter what was going to happen, it was going to happen in her new bathing suit and the red shoes that only whores and children had the right to wear.

“I really have issues,” she mumbled as she went to the door.

Before she could look through the peephole, a fist pounded on the door a second time. “Henna,” Eduardo called from the other side. “I know you are in there, and I know you had the lock changed. Open the door.”

She opened the door just enough to prevent him from entering with her body. “You got my message?”
Well done! You sound much more confident and sexy than you feel right now!

“I got your message. Are you going to let me in, or are we going to have this conversation with me in the hallway and the octogenarians in the next room hanging out their door?”

She stepped back from the door, turned, and walked away leaving it open. Jealousy, pure and engulfing, drove her ever breath and every move. For the first time, she would take a stand with a man rather than dismissing him for not being good enough or letting herself be dismissed for holding too tight.

The door closed nearly silently then the security lock clicked into place. “I can explain.”

She turned, stared at him, and let her nails strum a staccato against the desk. “Explain.” Henna didn't know who possessed her body, but she liked it. Hot emotions flooded her, bringing her to life.

“I can explain,” Eduardo repeated.

“I don't care.” She tossed her head and flicked her hand. “Or go back to your girlfriend. Give me some space and some peace. I like that you make me a more passionate person. I do not like that I’m behaving like…a bitchy teenage girl.” This immaturity out of character for her, it made her uncomfortable. She turned and refused to look at him as he approached her. Very mature.

“
Querida.
” A finger ran down her bare arm. “I owed her a polite, civil, conversation to explain that we were well and truly finished.”

Henna sniffed and flicked her head again. There was power in passion.

“Are you jealous?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

“Of course, I'm jealous,” she said with a push of emotion. “I see you touching another woman? I saw you. With your arm around her, kissing her.”

“I did not kiss her.”

“You did so. On the forehead.” She poked her finger at the spot on his face where the kiss had landed.

“That is not a kiss,” he said. “This is a kiss.”

Henna felt the kiss with her whole body and it was invigorating.

She gave him a look that she hoped conveyed her feelings of annoyance and passion. “I do not like seeing you touch another woman.” Whether she truly had the right to make demands of him or not didn't matter. Back in reality, she would have been cool and dismissive. In paradise, she was passionate and not afraid to make her feelings known anymore. “Would you like to see me touching some man?”

“I would not,” he said. “I am a very jealous man. As you well know.” He took her hand and lifted her fingers to his mouth. “I am sorry. It will not happen again.

Eduardo had known the moment he agreed to meet Fatima it was a mistake. He knew it. But he'd gone anyway. Fatima had been his friend and then his lover. He wanted everything to be right between them before their paths split.

“Never again?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, and the mass of her hair pinned to the top of her head tempted him. He wanted to pluck out the pins and mess it up.

“Never again,” he promised. “I can't tell her to leave. This is not my party and I did not invite her. But I promise you will have my attention.”

“I suppose that will do.” Henna sighed. She looked at her nails as she continued to pout.

He put his hands on her hips, gave them a small coaxing shake, and kissed her on the neck. “How about I show you how sorry I am?” He could work for forgiveness.

“You can always try,” she said.

His fingers found and removed enough pins, causing her hair to tumble down her back. With each hand, he captured a rope of hair and let it cascade through his fingers. She wore one of the bathing suits they'd chosen on their shopping trip, along with the emeralds.

He picked up one of the shoulder straps of the one-piece bathing suit that was in many ways more revealing than a bikini. “I like this on you.” The strap came down until one breast, topped by a taut pink nipple, was revealed. He lowered the other strap, letting the top of the bathing suit fall to her waist. “I like it better off of you.” With a small shove of his hands, the small bit of white fabric puddled on the ground around Henna's red shoes. “I like your shoes.”

He stood back and perused the whole of her. From the shoes, his gaze moved to her smooth pussy, then up to her full rounded breasts and the emerald that hung around her neck, finally to her pretty face with the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and the mouth the color of pink tulip petals.

He placed a hand on her bare hip as his head bent to hers. How long did it take for a person to fall in love? Could it happen in an instant? Yes. His inner voice answered the question for him. Then it gave him some advice.
There's no rush. Take your time. Destiny is at work.

He sat on the bed with Henna standing between his thighs. His hands roamed over the smooth, firm skin of her thighs, hips, and ass. He cupped her sex in one hand, letting one finger then two slip inside the slick wet lips. When he fluttered his fingers, she bent her knees slightly, letting her legs spread. He moved her from between his legs so that she straddled him. He spread his legs wider, forcing her to sit on his thighs. The position exposed the pink flesh behind the bare mound.

He penetrated her with one long finger, followed by a second, which he kept absolutely still as he pressed his palm against the hard nub of her clit. If she wanted release, she'd have to work for it just a little. And she did.

She rested her hands on his shoulders as she rubbed against the palm of his hand. Every grind and twitch of her hips brought her closer and closer to her peak. When her inner muscles trembled, he removed his hand.

A cry of anger at being denied came from her pretty lips. She leaned over and pressed their foreheads together. “You always do that,” she growled.

“Do you want me to worship you?” He teased her a little with his twitching fingers. “Or do you want me to rush you to the finish?”

“Worship me.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Eduardo stood and gripped the flesh of her bottom. He turned and dropped her onto the bed on her back, then knelt on the floor in front of her. He pushed her thighs open, then dipped his head and blew gently on her wet, flesh. She moaned and deepened the spread of her thighs, giving him access to her pussy. He gazed at her waiting cunt, slick and ready for him, and slipped one finger between her bare lips, coating it in her cream. He withdrew it and placed it in his mouth.

He wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs. With a sharp tug, he slid her forward and pushed her thighs as far apart as they would go, so she was fully exposed to him. Petal soft folds as pink as roses glistening with dew opened before him. He breathed in the scent of her essence, relishing the lingering sweetness. His tongue licked and sucked swirling around her clit. Just when she was about to climax, he moved his tongue off the hard little nub and moved his mouth lower.

Penetrating her with his tongue, he drove it in and out of her tight passage, alternating between shallow and deep and occasionally with a twist. She moaned at the sensation. He lapped at her clit, gently circling it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Again, when she was close to climaxing, he pulled away from her, eliciting a moan of disapproval.

“Why do you always stop?” She slammed her fists into the mattress.

He ignored her protests, knowing full well she enjoyed the slow torment as much as he did. In time, he very well might show her what real sexual torment and the accompanying frustration and gratification felt like. He ran one finger down the length of her creamy slit, drawing her natural lubricant lower. When he reached the small pucker of her rim, he stopped. Henna gasped, and he felt a small shiver of pleasure skitter through her.

“You like it when I touch you here, don't you?” He began a gentle yet insistent massage with his thumb. Henna nodded. He inserted his finger up to the first joint. She hissed in a small gasp and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. She liked anal play as much as he did. “Later.”

“What about now?” she asked, annoyance, frustration, arousal, and anticipation mingling in her words.

“Don't be so impatient.” He laughed. “You are wanton.”

“A woman knowing what she wants doesn't make her wanton,” Henna said, stiffening. Eduardo sensed dangerous terrain approaching and quickly moved clear.

“Of course not.” He rose from between their legs and climbed onto the bed, pulling her next to him. Without hesitation or pulling back, her tongue slipped in his mouth, tangling with his. He pressed her back on the bed, hoping she understood that on occasion he liked to be in charge of his own seductions.

Leaning over her, with his arm cradling her neck, he continued to stroke and pinch the folds of her labia occasionally dipping a finger then two inside. She trembled around his hand, her arms grasping him behind the head and pulling his mouth to hers. With a back-arching cry, she shuddered and climaxed, falling back against the curve of his arm once she was satiated.

“That was lovely,” she said, kissing him and started to get up.

“I'm so happy you appreciate my efforts,” he said, dragging her back down on the bed. “We're not done.”

Henna let her fingers creep inside the trousers he wore, slowly inching their way to his already stiff and ready cock. He rolled to his back and put his arms behind his head, perfectly content to be the object rather than the instigator of what was to come. He did unbutton and unzip his trousers before pushing them down and releasing his thrumming cock.

Her hand slid up and down the shaft, stopping on occasion to toy with the slit in the tip or to squeeze hard or gently. In their time together, Henna had made a great study of his cock and what it took to pleasure him. She knew him better than he knew himself.

In one move, she took him in her mouth, sucking hard and vigorously enough to make him gasp. That was new. While he was still accommodating himself to the delicious onslaught of her mouth, a second surprise came in the form of her finger reaching between his ass cheeks.

A finger rather indelicately pushed inside his unprepared hole, drowning him in a world of sensation. She forced the digit past the ring of muscle as her mouth sucked at his balls drawing them in one at a time. His back arched, forcing her finger in deeper. She took his dick into her mouth as deep as he would go while curling the finger in his anus. He cried out like he didn't know he was still capable of doing as a climax the likes of which he hadn't had in years exploded from him.