Me Tarzan, You Jewel

by Titania Ladley

  “Yes! Again—again!”

  With repeated, quick calf-raises, Vince fucked her while she hung above him. He reached to her very core. The pole pressed long and hard into her back. Against her ass, the hammock ropes rubbed her raw, sending waterfalls of ecstasy into her genitals. Perspiration glistened across both of their bodies, the candlelight lending them a sparkling sheen.

  Desperate now, she wrapped her fingers around the tie and pulled herself up in quick jerks so that her cunt pistoned onto his shaft. Teeth clamped tight, she groaned and struggled against the rope, fighting to mate with her Tarzan. Her legs tightened around him so that she was able to gain more leverage. And with one final lift, she screamed and slammed herself down upon him at the same moment he rose up. Swell after swell of euphoria jolted through her.

  He shuddered beneath her, his hot seed shooting into her even as her spasming muscles milked it from him.

  Pulse pounding in her throat, wrists raw and on fire, she gasped, “Vince, I…I…” But the words wouldn’t come. He looked up at her, a glow of sexy admiration in his eyes. Though she longed to rip her arms down and wrap them around him, to speak her love for him, she somehow knew this would be their last encounter. And she knew voicing her love for him would only make it more difficult to bear a future without him.

  He stood there, stroking her skin, pressing soft kisses over her breasts, up her neck, along her jaw line. Goose bumps of contentment shimmied up her spine.

  He’ll never know the reason you came to him that night to demand a commitment. The thought speared into her brain clear and sure. Her resolve strengthened, as did her love for him.

  As if the dire vow possessed the force of a hurricane, the winds outside roared louder. The tree house shook, quaking the pole against her back. And fear like she’d never experienced before bit into her gut.

  “Cut me down! Hurry, get me down from here!” Flailing, she kicked her legs and jerked her arms against the rope. Pain shot through her wrists at the exact moment she heard the loud ripping noise above. Vince worked his hands frantically at the knots.

  “Hurry, Vince, hurry!”

  “I’m trying, babe,” he panted, glancing up worriedly at the ceiling.

  A maddening whoosh reverberated above them when the wind tore the roof from its base. The sound of cracking wood overrode that of the storm. Violent waves of cool rain splattered in on them. She screamed when a funnel of wind whipped in and lifted the oranges and mangoes, tossing them up and around the room. Ducking, she heard a sickening suction noise, and just when Vince released the last knot from her wrists, her body jerked upward—upward into the eye of the black cloud.

  Tossed and tumbled, she became enveloped by cold rain, and the deafening song of wind pierced her ears. Somehow above the drone, she heard his voice far below, screaming out her name.

  Chapter Nine

  “Jewel!” Vince scrambled up the pole, his pulse pounding in his head. Quickly, he reached for her foot. But she was already gone. He looked up into the black, ominous cloud, now void of her.

  “No! Jennie, Luke! Goddamn it. Goddamn you both.” He drew back his fist and drilled it into the bamboo. Excruciating pain shot through his knuckles, up into his arm. But there could be no pain more unbearable than being without her. “How am I going to find her? Vermont—in all of fucking Vermont. Goddamn it, how am I going to find her, Luke, you son of a bitch?”

  A current of strong air spiraled down around him. As deafening as a freight train, it tossed articles with frightening speed, reaming them at him like harpoons. He ducked and swiped angrily, batting at them as if he were in the batter’s box.

  “Yeah,” he bellowed over the winds. “I’m pissed, too. Enough to drill you with mangoes, too, you assholes! Why have you two done this to us? Why?”

  The reply came in the form of sudden suction. He wrapped his arms around the pole and kicked when his body rose above his head and arms. Vince held tight, gritting his teeth against the force of his anger. His biceps and triceps burned. He fought with every ounce of strength he had in him. But suddenly, it occurred to him…if he let go, maybe they’d send him to her. Maybe he’d follow the same path as Jewel.

  The only way to find out was to let go.

  “Luke, Jennie, I swear if you don’t send me to her…” He inhaled a gust of rain-spattered, cold air. And he released the bamboo pole.

  His breath caught when his body was jerked up into the black cloud. Weightless, he spun and toppled, plummeting through space and realms fraught with cold, wet darkness. With each passing minute, relaxation and grogginess fogged his mind and soul, despite the tumult of weather around him. He drew in a sharp inhalation before the deep void of unconsciousness enveloped him. And he reached for Jewel one last time, his arms coming up empty.

  He dreamed of her while he floated into nothingness, the soft curves of her body, the scent of her natural perfume, the taste of her juices on his tongue. A vision of her smile and those snapping green eyes swam before him. He saw her scars, the altered little nose, the hair of a different color and length. Jewel. She hid from you, she hurt you and she deceived you, but why? The echo of her throaty laugh, the anger and determination in her voice, filled his ears. His brows drew together in sleep. He tossed and turned fitfully, reaching out for her, yet grasping only at turbulent air. You’ve missed a big piece of the Jewel puzzle, Vince. But what? Where? How? Think, think, think…

  But he couldn’t concentrate enough to find the answers. She whirled around him, spiraling, laughing wickedly, taunting and teasing him with her unique, irresistible charm. Ah, the wild passion that was only Jewel Dublin’s—it seized him with a painful craving to have her in his arms once again, to sink himself into her depths.

  He rolled to one side, flopped to the other, his skin wet, his clothes damp. Distantly, he became aware of a hard surface against his shoulder and hip. The air around him no longer chilled him to the bone but warmed his limbs. The darkness that had enveloped him now lightened until pale yellow light filtered through his eyelids. His body felt stiff and sore. Weak, he shoved himself over until he fell onto his back. The scent of expensive female perfume filled his nostrils with a violent rush. He curled his nose, warding off the offending odor. It wasn’t Jewel’s scent, it was…

  “Vincie, baby, wake up.” A small hand clutched at his forearm and shook him. The voice, high-pitched and babyish, grated on his nerves. “Vincie, are you all right?”

  Cautiously, he opened one lid and stared into the painted face of Lucy…or was it Lacy? “No, I’m not all right.”

  She blinked, apparently taken aback by the bite in his tone. “Geez, sorry.”

  He rubbed a hand across his forehead and sat up, wincing as his muscles protested. “Sorry, Lucy. I…I must have fallen and hit my head when I answered the door.”

  “Laurie.”

  He shot a glance at her and dragged himself off the polished hardwood floor. Her big, red, painted lips stuck out in a pout. “Huh?”

  “You called me Lucy. The name’s Laurie.” She flipped her long black hair over a tanned shoulder. Clad in nothing but a g-string, she crossed her arms under her very ample breasts. They protruded out toward him, calling, enticing. But he didn’t hear or see. Snatching up a nearby throw blanket from the sofa, he wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked down with stunned appall.

  “Sorry. I’m bad with names. Um, listen, I…I really need to get back to work…if you don’t mind. Do you think you could…?”

  “Oh, thank God you’re awake!” The sweet feminine drawl came from behind him. “I was just looking for your phone to call an ambulance. Man, Vince, you were out cold!”

  Vince turned to see the petite, small-breasted little beauty stroll from his bedroom—naked. Candy…or Katy? he wondered. Either way, she apparently wasn’t a true blonde, he thought as his gaze fell to the black landing strip between her legs. How had he not noticed that? He’d sunk his cock right there below that neatly trimmed patch, and still, he hadn’t n
oticed—or cared, he thought with surprise—about all the little details.

  “I was? For how long?” He flicked a look toward the massive patio door. Judging by the slant of the sun across the condominiums across the street, it was mid-afternoon. He whirled toward the fireplace and focused on the mantel clock. One thirty-five.

  “Who cares how long? Let’s go, Kelly.” Laurie spun on her heel and headed for the bedroom—and her clothes, obviously. “The fun’s over. Our prince charming apparently has turned back into a fricking nasty old frog.”

  “What?” Kelly—Vince noted her real name this time—paused in stunned confusion. “Go? Why? We’re supposed to spend the whole weekend with him.”

  “Yeah, well, it looks like,” Laurie spoke from the other room, her voice muffled as she donned her clothes, “that’s no longer the case.”

  “Now, wait,” Vince croaked. God, when did he ever worry about a woman’s feelings? And why did he long to lose this argument just to be alone with his thoughts of…a woman by the sea. The chant suddenly filled his mind the way one of those songs on the radio did, the kind that played over and over in your head and wouldn’t stop. “I—I didn’t mean to come off as a—”

  “Jerk?” Laurie asked when she sailed into the room clothed in a black leather skirt and little satin blouse. Her hair flew behind her in a cloud of angry, silky midnight.

  “Jerk,” Vince agreed. He plopped down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

  Kelly slithered down next to him. Her perfume, warm and mixed with the scent of pussy, wrapped around him along with her slim arms. She kissed his neck, his cheek, his mouth. “He’s not a jerk,” she purred, winking one thickly mascaraed eye at him. “He just needs to jerk off…with our help.”

  He shook his head, even as she cupped his balls and rolled them around in her palm. Practiced, she slithered her hand up and wrapped it around his soft cock through the boxers. Nothing. Not one ache stirred in his loins.

  “No, I’m sorry, but that’s the last thing I need right now.” He took her hand and gently removed it from his crotch.

  Kelly’s bleached eyebrows arched. But it didn’t take long for dawning to light her brown eyes. Those same eyebrows inverted angrily. “Hey, what’s up with you? This isn’t the man we picked up in the stripper bar last night. Did you get a concussion or something?”

  He had to laugh at that. “Yes.” Vince rubbed his head, feigning a headache. “I think I got a major concussion. And I’m not feeling so well. Look,” he rushed on and stood up, glancing between the two artificial beauties. “Something’s wrong here. I went to answer the door this morning and must have passed out. I think I need to go see a doctor.”

  “Oh yes, a shrink, maybe.” Laurie obviously wasn’t the forgiving type. She snatched up her teeny black purse and marched over to Kelly. “Go get dressed. We’re leaving.” With a withering stare at Vince, she added, “And we’re never coming back again.”

  Kelly shot to her feet so hard, even her tiny breasts jiggled. “All right,” she hissed. “Give me a minute. I’m right behind you.” She marched into the bedroom, her brassy, fake blonde hair swishing across her naked ass. He noted the dark roots and thought of Jewel. Funny that she’d dyed her hair black, as if to hide her true beauty, while this woman had bleached hers blonde in order to flare up her looks.

  Vince sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry—”

  Laurie held up a hand. She was already standing in the open door that led out to the corridor. “Don’t even give us the softy routine. We know your type. Funny,” she sniffed haughtily as Kelly emerged and stood in the doorway with her. “You came off as such a nice guy last night. Unusual for a man in a strip bar. But we made a terrible mistake,” she sneered, slanting a look down his body. “You’re just like all the other assholes.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Damn right, ouch. Now,” she went on, jutting her chin toward the dining room table. “Go drink some of that fancy champagne you stingily hid from us last night and go fuck off and die.”

  Vince startled when the door slammed. “Great.” With a mixed groan of relief and guilt, he dropped to the cushions and plucked up the cordless on the table behind the sofa. Yep, he needed to see a doctor—and maybe even a shrink as Laurie had so eloquently suggested.

  Deciding to check his voice messages first, he dialed the access number and entered his password. Reaching for a pad and pen, he listened and jotted down the four numbers for clients he needed to get back with very soon. Next came the calls that had apparently been recorded yesterday evening during his night out on the town.

  “Hello, hot stuff,” the female voice purred. “This is Steffy—who else?” she added with a girlie laugh. “I’ve got some time off, photo shoot’s done a day early. Call me.”

  The sweet, soft voice of Melanie the professional skier came next. “Well, howdy, hunk! Hey, where you been? I left a message yesterday and you haven’t called me back yet. I hope everything’s okay. I was able to finagle a suite at the Alpine Ski Resort for next weekend, just like you suggested. Let me know…”

  “Vince Santiago, it’s your lucky day. We’re going to be in town for a two-day filming this Thursday and Friday. My character’s part will only take one of those two days to shoot. So guess what? You get an early birthday present.” The sound of a sexy, expectant sigh filled his ears. “Call me as soon as you get in. Here’s my new cell phone number…”

  He warred with himself over how to respond to each of these messages. Rolling his eyes, he plopped his bare feet up on the glass coffee table and made note of each. He’d have to do the gentlemanly thing, he supposed, and at least call them all back to cancel.

  “Vince, you’re pathetic. A real fucking loser,” he snarled to himself, still holding the phone to his ear as the recording prompted the date and time of another incoming message.

  “Hello, Vince.” The familiar voice in his ear drew a gasp from him. He sat up on the edge of the sofa, his feet hitting the wooden floor with a slap. “It’s Jennie. When you finally get through beating yourself over the head, go on over to the dining room table and open that bottle Laurie—or is it Lucy?—suggested you drink.”

  He hadn’t bothered to look and see what Laurie had been referring to. All he’d wanted, he realized with a silent self-scolding, was for her to shut up and leave. His gaze snapped across the vaulted room to the corner where his glass dining table sat. He peered between the richly upholstered, high-backed dining chairs.

  And there it was. The bottle.

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh, yes, Vince.” Even though it was a recording, Vince didn’t notice Jennie replied as if she spoke directly to him. “Go. Go over and open it.”

  “No. Not again.”

  “Do you want to see her again?”

  His heart palpated hungrily. “Of course I do.”

  “Then open it.”

  He punched the button and tossed the cordless handset onto the couch. Never taking his eyes from the bottle, he rose and slowly crossed the room. All he could think of was Jewel, Jewel, Jewel. If he opened the bottle, would she materialize before him? Would she appear so they could, once and for all, get things untangled and move on with their future?

  There was only one way to find out. With a sure and steady hand, he reached out and plucked up the bottle. This time, it didn’t induce him with horniness as it had before. But he didn’t care. He had only one motivation in mind.

  Getting Jewel back.

  Clutching the neck in one hand and the glittering stopper in the other, he yanked off the top. A familiar breeze tinged with hibiscus and coconut filled his nostrils. Pale, lavender-tinged smoke filled the room. When it dissipated, it left behind…Jennie. She stood there, petite and proud and beautiful in a shimmering navy chiffon toga. Both of her upper arms were ringed with wide gold bands shaped like fern leaves. On her head, she wore a gold, jeweled headdress that lent her a regal, almost haughty air. All but two white wisps framing her face were swept up into the cro
wn. Though her breasts were twin swells of womanly perfection, and her body that of a goddess, he paid not the least bit attention.

  “Where is she?”

  Jennie smiled and sat on…air. He shook his head with irritation, watching as she floated five feet above the floor, her legs folded Indian-style. “My, but you’re an impatient one.”

  He took two steps toward her, his teeth ground together. “Jennie, don’t tempt me to wrap my hands around your pretty neck.”

  She flicked a hand. Vince smacked into an invisible panel. Anger glittered in her eyes, though she continued to smile sweetly. “Don’t tempt me to hide her from you forever.”

  All he could do was sigh. Setting the bottle down on the dining table with a clink, he replied, “You know I don’t want that.”

  “Yes. I’m aware of that.”

  He yanked out a chair and collapsed onto its firm, damask-covered surface. His mind snapped with an odd irritation. He hated this table and chairs. Why had he purchased such a snooty, uncomfortable, impractical set? Annoyed with himself, he shoved aside the place setting that hadn’t been used since being placed there years ago. Dusted around, washed by his maid, maybe, but never once used.

  “What now? You said to open the bottle if I wanted to see her again.”

  “Ah, I implied you’d see her again if you opened it. Two entirely different things.”

  “What do you want from me? You took me through that ridiculous dream. I’ve been gone for what seemed like days but it turned out only to be hours.”