by Ju Ephraime
He was breathing hard, and sweat poured down his face, dropping onto her back to mingle with hers. They were both sweating profusely, but he wouldn’t let up. The riskiness of what they were doing provided a further thrill to something that was already the greatest thrill of her life. Thinking about it pushed her over the edge again, providing a fresh burst of moisture that had him sinking even deeper into her as she swept him along with her. His release, this time, was powerful and long, and Daphne found herself experiencing another orgasm with him, less intense this time, but what it lacked in intensity, it made up for in longevity. She felt her muscle clenching around him as tiny pulses went through her. He lowered them to the towel, their bodies still joined. He made no move to withdraw.
Gradually, she came back to earth and became aware of her surroundings. Her first sane thought was,God, this was noisy. I hope no one was nearby.
Now that it was over, reality was beginning to set in, but Daphne would not allow regrets to spoil the best time of her life. But she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious when she thought of her behavior. She’d offered no resistance when Wolfe had approached her. She put the thought out of her mind, promising herself she’d go back and revisit the encounter in the privacy of her hotel room; for now, she would bask in the moment.
After a good fifteen minutes, Wolfe finally withdrew from her body and began looking around for his shorts. Locating them under a pile of sand, he shook them off before pulling them on. He turned to her and helped her with her swimsuit top while she pulled on her shorts minus the bottom of her swimsuit. She was still shaken and sat back down on the towel.
He reached around her to retrieve his bag and held out his hand to assist her up. The thought popped into her mind. When did he put his bag there? Did he put it there because he knew I couldn’t keep away?
To her horror, she heard the question come out of her mouth. “How did your bag get here?” she blurted out and blushed. Is that me saying that?
“I left a pair here yesterday,” he replied. “I waited for you, but when you didn’t come, I left them there, hoping you would come along and find them.”
He gave a brief laugh and shrugged. “I have thought of nothing else but seeing you again, but I had no way of contacting you. Are you going to tell me where you’re staying now?”
He reached for her and brought her into the fold of his body, claiming her mouth in a kiss. She couldn’t resist going to him because she enjoyed kissing him, almost as much as she enjoyed having sex with him. Wolfe was very gentle with her this time and kissed her softly, almost tenderly, if she had to examine the kiss.
Wolfe was no novice to sexual encounters, but he was not prepared for the assault on his senses making love with Daphne had triggered. He had felt the ejaculation climbing up his spinal column to the center of his head. It was as if his head would explode with the intensity of the feeling. Every time she moved and her muscles tightened around him, it was like being in a vise. He couldn’t help himself when he began pounding into her repeatedly. He drove into her, hitting the same spot, until she was making a keening sound between a scream and a sob; it was music to his ears. He groaned when she began squeezing and stroking him, signaling she was on the verge of yet another release. He’d lost count of how many she had. But this time, he’d decided he would join her.
She was sensational, stroking him with her exquisite body, and he loved every minute of it. The heat from her fiery channel burned him up.
Replaying their lovemaking in his head, he was upset with himself that he hadn’t thought to carry a supply of rubbers. He would make certain he was prepared the next time. He realized also that Daphne did not appear to have much experience. She had actually seemed surprised the first time she achieved orgasm. Could this have been her first?
He’d had a difficult time getting her to accept all of him. Her body was as tight as a virgin’s, and he knew she’d experienced some discomfort when he made the first thrust home, but she’d kept up like a trooper...ready and willing to experience it all. He didn’t have a problem educating her and couldn’t wait for her next lesson.
Wolfe was running late. The morning was passing swiftly. He hated having to leave her after what he’d just put her through, but he had a restaurant to run. It wouldn’t run without him. He had to get her to give him the name of her hotel.
“Daphne, please tell me where you are staying? I have a full day’s work ahead, but I’ll be free after four, and I would like to have dinner with you.”
He placed his hand under her chin to lift her face so that he could look her in the eyes. “I would love to get to know you better.”
She loved hearing him say her name. He said it with a French accent that made it sound so sexy. She was still trying to regain her equilibrium and wasn’t certain how to proceed from here, but she thought that a dinner or a few drinks wouldn’t hurt either of them. She needed to know more about him. No wedding ring, but some guys just won’t wear them. The last thing she wanted was an island fling with a married man.
“Hotel Papillon,” she said. “And the name is Cohen, Daphne Cohen.”
“Au revoir, jusqu’à ce soir, until tonight.”
She watched him walk down the length of the beach as she’d done for several days now, and she still marveled at the way he carried himself while walking on the uneven sand.
Up until today, her routine had been fairly constant. She would hide behind the shrubbery with a book and watched as Wolfe did his routine. When he left after his swim, she would daydream and watch the water until it was time to catch the bus. Today, she felt the need to cool down a bit. She really wasn’t a strong swimmer but decided she’d be safe enough if she stayed in the shallows close to the shore.
As she made her way to the edge of the water, she felt an unfamiliar soreness between her thighs. Nothing she’d read, no gossip, nothing she’d done before—especially not with Michael—had prepared her for the event of the morning. There were many men who didn’t care one way or another about their partner’s fulfillment. Wolfe, apparently, didn’t belong to that group.
She never imagined there might be a bestial side to her nature, and she tried to hate herself for it. But there was no denying that part of her loved and embraced the new person slowly emerging a little piece at a time. She could not, in all honesty, blame Wolfe for bringing out that side of her. She’d suspected it was there waiting to emerge from when she was a teenager. It had taken the combination of hurt, lust, sun, sand, and, of course, Wolfe to bring it out of her.
She couldn’t do away with her old self completely. It had been a part of her for the greater part of her life and sometimes, like now, tried to reassert itself. This was revealed in the bit of guilt she felt for the way she’d carried on with Wolfe. But, honestly, she just couldn’t help herself. It was unbelievable that she could lose control so completely after less than a week on the island. But this did not, in any way, take away from her enjoyment and the way she responded to Wolfe. Thank God she was on the pill although that wouldn’t protect her from diseases. She vowed to be more careful next time. Boy, what a slut she’d become. She was already looking forward to the next time.
Walking out farther into the water, she removed her shorts. She knew she’d made a mistake the moment she was fully submerged. The salt in the water stung her all over, especially between her thighs. It was as if her insides were on fire, but she forced herself to remain in the water, and after a while, it began to feel better. Unsteadily she washed herself, her remorse doubling with each bruise she discovered on her skin. Wolfe had made those marks on her body. Remembering the way she’d given her body to him had her getting heated all over again.
The water soothed and relaxed her, so she spent half an hour soaking it up, trying to erase the evidence of her wanton behavior from her person. She marveled at how the old Daphne was gone and in her place had emerged this person she did not recognize—this person who, even now, was getting excited at the thought of a repeat perfor
mance of the morning’s event.
S ix
By the time Daphne entered her hotel room around 2:00 p.m., her mood had changed considerably from when she’d left in the morning. She was in a distinctly buoyant mood, feeling on top of the world. Now she knew what Michael had been getting when he appeared to be having so much fun while she had none. She felt resentful when she realized all she’d missed. Well, hey, now I can make up for lost time!
She took a leisurely shower and began preparing for her dinner date with Wolfe. He’d said he’d be there in a couple hours, she wanted to be ready and waiting when he got there.
She was excited, almost giddily so. Before she finished deciding on what to wear, six outfits lay on the bed. She finally picked up the red silk pantsuit that had been her first choice. It felt wonderful as it slid against her skin. It reminded her of Wolfe’s hands sliding over her body. Red brought out the highlights in her hair, and it was her favorite color.
She completed the outfit with some gold sandals, which added five inches to her height, making her almost as tall as Wolfe. A gold clutch bag, some gold dangling earrings, and she was ready for her date.
She was sitting at the bar, facing the entrance, when Wolfe walked in. It was almost a shock to see him fully clothed. She’d thought him gorgeous without any clothes on, but fully clothed he looked, if that was possible, even more impressive.In a different way, of course, she thought. His height and the drape of his cotton slacks with the loose silk shirt in a soft shade of tan made him look like a long cool drink, and she was suddenly very thirsty. Other women at the bar watched him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He walked straight up to her and greeted her with a kiss on each cheek.
“How are you, Daphne?” he asked in that sexy French accent.
“Fine,” she responded, trying to appear nonchalant, as if it was an everyday occurrence for a gorgeous man to walk up to her and kiss her in public.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes. Let’s go. We have a full night ahead of us, and you look good enough to eat.”
“Good enough to eat," she repeated.
“Yes, not only do you look scrumptious in red; you have a glow about you that makes it all the more appealing.”
He took her hand as they walked out of the hotel.
“Where are we going?” she asked, but it was a foolish question because the answer would be meaningless to her. With the exception of the beach, the restaurant, and the nightclub the taxi driver had taken her to, she knew practically nothing about the island. There was a north end and a south end, and she was in the north end. That was the extent of her knowledge.
He opened the door to a black Benz sitting in front of the hotel. She got in and watched as he walked over to the driver’s side.
He’d still not answered her question. Daphne got the impression that Wolfe was a man of few words. He only spoke when he had to and just the facts, nothing more. As he did now. “We are going to the southern end of the island to a nice local restaurant.”
She didn’t say anything, but she had a feeling it was probably the same place she’d gone the previous night.
She decided to sit back and relax as he took them around the winding roads in the Benz. It was a sporty version. He had the sunroof open, and the wind was blowing her hair into her face. Wolfe glanced at her then closed the roof and turned on the AC instead. Daphne sighed internally. She didn’t mind being a bit windblown. She loved to feel the cool breeze on her face, but since she didn’t know where Wolfe was taking her, she thought she ought to arrive looking halfway decent.
The car’s powerful engine ate up the miles, and in no time, they were pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot. Daphne was correct in her assumption. It was the same restaurant she’d visited the previous evening.
She was freshening up her lipstick when Wolfe came around to open the door for her. She was debating whether to mention that she’d been there the previous night and thought she’d seen him when a man she would have sworn was Wolfe walked up to them and slapped him on the back. The other man spoke to him in French, but it was in the French Creole, and Daphne didn’t understand, nor did she understand Wolfe’s response. Finally, in English, Wolfe introduced her to the stranger.
“Daphne, meet my twin, Foxx.”
“Foxx, Daphne.”
“Hi, Foxx, it’s nice meeting you.”
“Same here, Daphne. Are you a very close friend of my brother?”
“Yes, and no.”
“Why yes and no? Is this a special level of friendship that I don’t know about?”
“No. It’s my way of saying we only just met.”
Just then, Wolfe said something in Creole to him, and giving him a grin, his brother walked inside the restaurant.
Daphne couldn’t get over how identical they were. They looked so much alike that it unnerved Daphne. Even their mannerisms were identical. Her waiter from the night before showed them to a table in a private room at the back of the restaurant.
“Mmm, nice...a private room. How did you manage this?”
He gave a slight shrug. “I would never take you to less than the best, and here I can be sure everything is the best.”
When she gave him a quizzical, disbelieving look, he gave another of those French-style shrugs. “Oh, all right, I will confess. My brother and I own this place.”
“You own this restaurant?” Daphne asked incredulously.
Something about the man stood out, apart from the obvious, of course; she should have known. But her mind had been so clouded by lust she couldn’t differentiate the chaff from the wheat. In her defense, she had only seen him in the nude. There was something about seeing an attractive man naked that cleared your mind of logic. She would try her best to focus.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Something long, cold, and sweet. I’ll let you select something for me.”
“Okay. I hope you like my choice,” he told her.
He signaled the server over and ordered them their drinks. He was having Hennessy brandy, and she a surprise drink, so he informed her.
Their drinks arrived, and hers was indeed a surprise. It was a yummy French Quarter Cocktail, a mixture of freshly squeezed orange juice, grenadine syrup, pineapple juice, a dash of local dark rum, topped with several cocktail cherries over crushed ice. She loved cocktail cherries in her drink.
“This is perfect, Wolfe. How did you know I had a weakness for cocktail cherries?”
“You looked like a cocktail cherries girl,” he said, giving her a flash of his brilliant smile.
Her heart did a quick flip, seeing all that brilliance directed at her. What a man, she couldn’t help thinking as she continued sipping her drink.
Soon they were brought their entrée, which she found out meant appetizer in France and, of course, Martinique, being a French territory. It was a puff pastry with curried shrimp and mango mousse—yum! They took their time enjoying it. The meal continued with conch and red snapper in a spicy red sauce. It was finished off with banana cake and cappuccino.
She had a refill of her drink, and although she could barely taste the liquor, it appeared to pack quite a deceptive punch. After her second glass Daphne was slightly tipsy. Wolfe had a second Hennessy, which she found out was his drink of choice.
While they were eating, Foxx came to sit with them, but he didn’t stay long. It seemed when Wolfe was not available, it was Foxx’s responsibility to manage the restaurant, but he came by again to say goodnight when they were leaving. Daphne was again struck by how much alike the two brothers were.
The muted lighting in the restaurant made it impossible for her to tell if there were any distinguishing marks on either one. But where Wolfe was silent, Foxx was vocal, constantly laughing and joking with the patrons. Daphne much preferred the silent Wolfe. Not that there was anything wrong with Foxx. She liked her men less vocal, or maybe she had Wolfe on the brain.
On the drive back to the hotel, he pulled o
ver and parked the car overlooking the ocean. The city lights were visible in the distance. It was very cool and relaxing, but seeing her shiver, Wolfe retrieved his jacket from the back seat and wrapped it around her. It felt wonderful and smelled of his very distinct scent—sun, sea, and a hint of cinnamon spice. She hadn’t been able to identify it before.
He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. “Are you having a good time on the island, Daphne?”
“Mmm, yes. It’s so beautiful here, how can I not?”
“Would you like to swim with me tomorrow?”
“Um,” replied Daphne. “Well, I actually can’t swim. And you, evidently, are a marathon swimmer. You go so far out into the open sea. Aren’t you scared of sharks?”
“I’ve been swimming in these waters, practically all my life; I’ve yet to see a shark."
“How long do you go out for?”
“About an hour, thirty minutes out and thirty minutes back, with ten minutes to cool down in a float.”
“I’ll be there, waiting to welcome you, when you get back, unless I get busy with something else,” she said with a slight snigger.
“You’ll be waiting to welcome me?” he asked, with a brief smile. “You shouldn’t have told me. Now I’m already anticipating my return to shore. I’ll ignore the part about your being involved with something else. After all, except for one day, you’ve nothing to interest you but a lone swimmer out in the ocean.”
“I hate to admit it, but it wasn’t the lone swimmer out in the ocean that captivated me. It was the nude swimmer walking out of the ocean in all his magnificent glory. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”