Dirty Trick

by Mickey Miller

  “Yes, the roof is made of straw--it’s good for temperature control during the day since there’s no air conditioning.”

  “You’re serious,” she said, glancing around the room. Her brow furrowed. All in all, the hut wasn’t any bigger than a large corner office.

  “Sorry, no walk-in closet. You can still go back to the Hotel de Lujo if you want.”

  “Jerk. It’s my job to be stylish. I can’t help it if that requires a lot of room. And bags. And shoes.” She crossed her arms. She was getting fired up again. And so was I with how her cleavage popped when she pressed it up.

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I just want to be clear about how we’re going to be living for the next sixty days.”

  I could literally see her body freeze up when I reminded her about the length of time we’d be staying here. She tensed her jaw.

  “Fine. Let’s go and meet the neighbors.”

  I looked at her up and down. I grabbed a pair of flip flops from my bag and tossed them at her. “For the love of God, put these on.” I always carried extras with me since they were the most commonly worn footwear on the island.

  “They are a little big for me, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. You can get your own soon. For now, this will do.”

  She sighed. “You know what, I’m really tired. I don’t think I have the strength to be social right now. Mind if I get some sleep?”

  “Course not.”

  While she rested, I went next door, said hi to a couple of old friends from when I’d lived here before, and walked around the town. When I got back to the cabin it was high noon, and I found Crystal still sleeping. Good. I figured she was delirious from the twenty-four hours of flying we’d just done, and I couldn’t blame her if that was the case. It was a long trip to get out here. And she was out of her element.

  I imagined she would have a near meltdown when I told her about the shower situation. And then there was the electricity situation.

  Not to mention I’d come down with a little “situation” myself. As in, all my blood was constantly flooding my cock when I was in her presence.

  This was not good. I needed to be focused on my fight in sixty days with El Toro. Every day was vital for mental and physical preparation. It was part of the reason I’d chosen this location--so I could mentally prepare in isolation. Now I had a smoking hot babe in my bed, and she was all I could think about.

  I racked my mind for options. Sure, I could have a bed imported from the town, put in on the floor and sleep there, give Crystal the bed. But then this would become a whole big thing that the locals would ask me about, why are we sleeping in separate beds, etc. And they were my rock, my mental support system. They’d probably also think that she was my girlfriend, but maybe I could just glaze over that detail with them.

  Though the covers were on her, I knew exactly what she’d put on to go to bed. Baby blue panties, a colored matching bra, and a white t-shirt on over that. She’d whipped them off without warning, and right in front of me.

  Well, to my left, but hey, I’m a fighter, I make my living off my peripheral vision.

  It wasn’t lost on me that the woman was so coordinated even her bras matched her panties. I wondered what else about her was coordinated. Did she have a landing strip to match her blonde hair? Was she shaved, maybe? No. She’d be light blonde and proud of it, just like she was up top.

  I took a page that I’d just learned from Crystal’s book, and put my own spin on it. “One-fucking-Mississippi,” I whispered.

  I exhaled.

  Didn’t do much. I was still hard as lava rock. And where was there to hide this boner? Not like it was going to go anywhere while she was sleeping. I got naked, grabbed a towel and headed past the bathroom and to the shower.

  The floor of the shower was concrete but the walls were wooden. I turned the water temperature to the coldest setting available, then put it on full blast.

  I grunted as the cold water hit me, but it gave me what I lived for: an adrenaline boost. I loved the uncomfortableness.

  “Yes,” I swallowed. It wasn’t painful, but a cold shower had a way of toughening a man up.

  Unfortunately, it toughened up my boner, too. This was a particularly pesky one, too.

  “Not going away, huh buddy? I see how it is.”

  As the water streamed down my back, I closed my eyes and fisted my cock.

  There was only one person I could think about. I imagined how it would go down.

  There would be a knock on the wooden shower stall door and she’d come in. “Hey honey, I see you need a hand there. Mind if I come in?”

  Of course not.

  As if I could get any harder, the thought of seeing Crystal totally naked spurred me on. I’d probably stare at her for a full minute, taking in her soft skin, perfectly curvy body. Those luscious tits.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” she’d say. She’d press the full front of her body into me, letting me feel those soft breasts pushing into my back as the water fell over us. “Let me help.”

  She’d grab my cock and fist it with me, gently, because that’s the kind of woman she was. Kind and gentle. I’d turn and wrap my arm around her head, then plunge my mouth into those sweet, delicious lips of hers.

  “Fuck,” I muttered out loud, running my hand up and down my length like a madman.

  I’d reach my hand down to her pussy and stroke her as she stroked me. It wasn’t a planned position. It’d be almost awkward. She’d be wet with her own juices.

  “Please fuck me, Connor,” she’d beg.

  Fuck. I was about to cum buckets thinking about the girl who was just a wall away from me.

  I’d kiss her once more, fit my lips around hers, before I ordered her. Get against the wall.

  She’d obey and put her arms against it, then stick out her beautiful, voluptuous wet ass for me like a good little girl.

  She’d grip my cock with her tight little pussy and let out a cute little moan as she presented that beautiful thing as a gift. Crystal would be my own personal fucktoy. “Oh God, Connor,” she’d say.

  I’d thrust in and out of her, enjoying the slap slap slap of my wet hips on her ass as I went in and out of her.

  “Connor,” she’d yell.

  Yeah, that’s right. Say my name. Louder.

  I was on the brink now, running my five fingers along my cock. My eyes still closed, I added another.

  “Connor,” she’d yell again.

  Fuck. that yell in my head did it. It was too lifelike. I wanted to be in her so badly and I couldn’t take it anymore. My spine tingled and I shot ropes of cum straight onto the concrete floor.

  “Connor!” she’d yell when it was all over, slightly irritated.

  Wait, what? That wasn’t part of the fantasy.

  I whipped my head around and peered over the wooden door of the shower to see a Crystal in a towel, wrapped around her breasts.

  “Are you done yet in the shower? I woke up like twenty minutes ago and you’ve been in there forever.”

  I gulped. “Yeah, just a minute,” I managed to croak. No big deal, just rubbing one out to you, Crystal!

  “Hurry up, we need to go to town for your luncheon today. For Zoreto.”

  “Be out in a minute,” I huffed.

  Christ, I’d forgotten all about the luncheon. This girl had me off my game. I was off in la-la land. I finished washing up and got out of the shower. I smiled at her as I passed. In a towel. She scowled back at me.

  I had fifty-nine and a half more days of this. I didn’t know if I would make it.

  6 - Crystal

  “You’re worse than I am,” I huffed as Connor stepped out of the bathroom, though I wasn’t sure I would call the tiny closet-sized alcove, open to the outside air, a bathroom.

  The clean scent of shampoo, sandalwood soap, and that natural fragrance of man eddied around me in a burst of steam. One moment I was glowering at the door, and the next, Connor’s
wet, tattooed torso filled my vision.

  Oh. Oh, my.

  My attention riveted on a bead of water that dripped from his spiky hair and splattered onto his shoulder. Then it rolled all the way down, leaving a streak that I suddenly wanted to lick.

  I knew he was watching my line of sight, but wild fucking buffalo wouldn’t have been able to pull my gaze from the life-and-death journey of that little droplet. My throat grew parched, my skin suddenly tight and flushed as it finally ended its path in the white towel knotted around his lean hips.

  “Like what you see?” Connor’s brogue had a growly edge to it, and I snapped my eyes up with a guilty blink. His hazel eyes were hooded, flashing suggestive ideas my way. His thin lips were carved into a suggestive smirk, and for a wild moment, I thought he was going to close the little slice of space between my trembling body, and his wet one.

  “No,” I whispered, not trusting the strength of my voice. If it quivered as badly as my body, it would give me away. “You take longer than I do.”

  I was stripped of my defenses facing down a Connor in all his sinfully tempting body. I mean, logically I knew he had to be hot and fit. I’d also seen him fight, but a picture was nothing compared to being a few inches away from all that male perfection wrapped in a teeny tiny towel.

  He had a second, smaller towel in his hand and he rubbed his head with it before he shook his head like a dog, splattering me with water.

  I squealed and shoved him out of the way. “You are such an ass,” I yelled through the thin wood.

  His chuckle seeped through the wood and sparked a fire between my thighs. I wiggled, rubbing my legs together as if that would extinguish the ache. “I was just trying to save you the shower. Hurry up, I’m starving and we’re already late.”

  I pressed my forehead against the door. I was going to kill him. He was going to die. How the hell was I going to survive living with him in this tiny ass cabana?

  Fifty-nine more days, I reminded myself and rushed through my routine.

  I didn’t feel ready for the meeting with the Zoreto representatives. While getting dressed for the day, I took an hour or two, depending on how I needed to prepare. I had to shower, find an outfit to wear and get to the other side of the island in half that time.

  Luckily Connor had gotten a taxi for us. How did he manage it? Fucking smoke signals or more of that drum bullshit, maybe. Because my cell phone sure didn’t have service out here. We piled into the backseat, and I cursed how big he was. He took up more than his half with his broad shoulders and stupid, lickable muscles.

  I was in a bad mood. My hair was still damp and pulled into a ponytail, there were wrinkles in my cream-colored Calvin Klein dress, and I’d almost broken my ankle when my high-heel got sucked into a sand pit as I’d hurried out of the hut. At the very least I sprained it, and just breathing caused it to thump with pain.

  Connor, on the other hand, was as relaxed as a cat lounging in the sun. He was leaning his head out the window and tipped his bearded face towards the flawless sky, basking.

  I fucking hated him. It was his fault I felt frazzled and unprepared. How was I going to be able to do my job when he took such delight in tormenting me? Was I being too hard on him? It had been years since I had been forced to share a bathroom with someone else. If we were going to live together for the next fifty-odd days, we would need a routine.

  The morning shower time was mine. He could have the bathroom after.

  I tapped my fingers on the thin leather portfolio spread across my lap. It held my tablet and the papers I would need just in case I managed to hook Zoreto. I hoped they were actually interested in Connor, and not using these meetings as a free vacation to the South Pacific on their company’s dime.

  “You need to relax.” Connor was back in my space, rubbing his bulky bicep against the outside of my arm. The heat required a lot of shorts and bare arms, and I’d dressed accordingly in a sleeveless wrap dress. The connection of his naked flesh on mine, even in an area that was as innocuous as my arm, sent awareness tingling through me.

  “And you need to take this more seriously. This is your career, Connor,” I snapped back. I wasn’t in any mood to hear him give me advice on how to unwind. “This isn’t a vacation.”

  Connor dropped his arm along the back of the car seat. He flicked my ponytail and sent the edges swishing. I slowly turned to face Connor, ready for a battle of words and wit.

  He leaned closer, and my mind and senses were filled with him. “I am taking this seriously. You have no idea how serious I’m taking this, Muirnīn,” he whispered against my cheek.

  The Gaelic inflection shot shivers through my body. The small flame of desire which I carried for Connor, those taboo fantasies that I’d wrought with his image painted on my closed eyelids, burst to the forefront, summoned by a warlock’s incantation; this silver tongue devil seducing me in the brogue of his homeland.

  Though I didn’t know what the word he whispered meant, by the way he said it, it sounded hot and more than a little frightening for my ability to resist him. I had to resist.

  “Connor,” I whispered. There was a truth here between us, real emotions and sensations that sprang into being with the sudden fury of a tropical storm. I was trapped, caught in the eye of this storm that was Connor McGrath, just waiting for him to destroy me, devastate me, and leave me wrecked on the shoals of my bad decisions.

  I couldn’t let that happen. His eyes were burning neon--green, gold, and brown in the dappled way hazel tended to be—and revealed clearly his desire to kiss me.

  I shifted my head, shaking away the intensity and intimacy which had entrapped us. I cleared my throat of the damn frog which had made it husky. “Do you know what you’ll be saying at the meeting?”

  This meeting wasn’t about me, but Connor’s ability to win over the shoe company’s representatives. I could coach him, encourage him, but in the end, Connor’s ability to sell himself as the spokesperson for their athletic needs rested on his broad shoulders.

  Connor took the hint and slid back to his side of the car. His attention flashed forward. His face was hard, his mouth twisted into a subtle frown, and his voice was clipped. “Yeah, I got this.”

  I sighed. This was how it had to be between us. That melting heat that Connor tapped inside me with a few words need to be iced over.

  The rest of the drive into Hange Roa was stippled with awkward silence. I didn’t want to look at Connor, he wasn’t interested in looking at me, so we both watched the scenery. While it was fascinating, I couldn’t lose myself in the statues and remnants of the ancient life right outside my window. I was too tense and stressed.

  Finally, the taxi pulled into the circular drive beneath a luxurious hotel.

  “This is where you could have been staying,” Connor said as a parting shot on the way out of the car.

  I sighed and looked at the circular hotel with its massive windows overlooking the flawless ocean scenery. Yes, I could have stayed here, and loved it, but there was no telling what trouble Connor would have gotten into without me around. He was my priority, not Egyptian cotton sheets, sprawling king-sized beds, and bathrooms bigger than the hut we were splitting.

  I mentally wept as I stepped out of the car. If they had eggs benedict at the restaurant we were meeting the Zoreto agents at, I might consider ditching him for the cuisine.

  Connor pulled a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses from his pocket and put them on.

  I scrunched my eyebrows in his direction. “Why would you put on sunglasses when we’re about to go inside?” We had just been on a very bright, sun-filled car ride, and now he felt the need to put those on? In addition to being incredibly attractive, I was beginning to wonder if he was also certifiably insane.

  “My future is about to very bright. I’m going to need some UV protection.”

  A doorman whisked open the front doors for us, and we walked into a tastefully appointed lobby. Though we didn’t go all the way through. The restaurant, one of thr
ee on the hotel property, that we were meeting with the representatives beckoned to our right.

  Connor was cheery and whistling something under his breath again, as I sighed and led us to the gilt-stenciled double doors and told the hostess we were here for the Zoreto party. She went back to check on something.

  Back in Chicago, it was barely spring. On Easter Island, however, the temperature stayed fixed year-round. Though a warm breeze blew past us, I welcomed the opportunity to sit indoors, since it was seeming like most of the action was going to be taking place outside.

  “We will seat you now,” she said. I put on my best stone face. Despite the volatility of my inner self, this needed to go flawlessly.

  Ten million dollars.

  Equity in the company.

  Let’s do this.

  “After you,” I said to Connor.

  “Oh no, after you,” he grinned back. “I insist.”

  The hostess led us past the inside tables to the outside patio. As soon as I saw we were headed outside, a slight sense of panic overcame me. I had wanted us to sit inside. Wouldn’t the stuffy board members want to sit inside? Why did nothing here ever go to plan?

  “Your table,” the hostess said and put down a couple of menus at an eight-top in the bar where four men and two women were sitting. Off to the west coast of the island, the Pacific Ocean seemed to go on for infinity.

  I clenched up. Connor glanced at me and must have noticed because he took control of the interaction.

  “Good afternoon everyone. I’m Connor.”

  A chuckle rose from the table. “We know who you are,” one of the women said, stirring her drink, and I swear she shot him the thickest fuck me eyes I’d ever seen communicated across a table.

  “Pleasure to meet you Connor,” another one of the men said and stuck out a hand.

  As we rotated around the room shaking hands, my throat caught. They were all wearing white khaki shorts, and white polos or t-shirts. They didn’t seem like decision makers with the power to hand over one-hundred million dollars in endorsements. My fear that this was just a vacation for them resurfaced stronger than before.