Mildred dropped her eyes and nodded in embarrassment. When she raised her eyes again, she knew their time had passed. The moment was gone.
“Well,” Mike said, diverting his eyes to the wall and scratching the back of his neck, “I guess I'll be getting to that toilet,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mildred mumbled.
Mike retrieved his shirt and tool bag and walked into the bathroom mumbling something about strange Yankee women.
CHAPTER
Fifty-four
It was a cute house.
The outside was painted a warm coconut color, and the windows had white shutters. The front yard was filled with foliage and the tiled veranda had potted plants in each corner as well as two wicker chairs.
“Nice,” Mildred commented as she followed Tony around to the side door.
Walking inside, they first came upon a dining table. To the right of that there was a small sofa that faced the back of the house and the sliding glass doors that led out to the veranda.
“Welcome to my home,” Tony said as he led her toward the couch.
Against the wall was a small stereo system.
As if reading her mind, Tony said, “The television is in the bedroom.”
Tony was nervous. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever been nervous about having a woman over. He'd spent all morning cleaning and then most of the afternoon trying to figure out what it was he was going to wear.
“Please sit,” he said. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water . . .”
“How about a glass of wine?”
“White or red?” he called out to her as he disappeared down the hall to the kitchen.
“White is fine.”
Smooth jazz sailed from the stereo as they sat sipping their wine. Mildred could see Tony watching her from the corner of his eye, although she pretended to be completely engrossed on the view outside the glass doors.
They were supposed to go down to Coach House, a popular restaurant and bar. A local band was playing there tonight, and Tony felt that that would be the perfect opportunity to get a bit closer to Karma.
Dancing always broke the ice.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” Tony said, clearing his throat.
Mildred rolled the stem of the glass between her fingers. “I don't know—you looked like your mind was a million miles away.”
His mind wasn't away; it was right there in that house, with her.
“Did I tell you you're looking really beautiful tonight?”
Mildred nodded.
He had told her, twice.
At Chevy's insistence, she wore a peach-colored spaghetti-strapped dress that fell just below the knee. Around her neck was a large iridescent angel shell on a thin leather string. Her hair was out, but brushed away from her face, exposing the large wooden hoop earrings she wore.
She had on a little mascara and Oh Baby Mac lip gloss that brought out the sun-kissed tone of her skin.
“Yes, you did, and thank you again.”
Tony inched a little bit closer to her. “You smell wonderful. What's that you're wearing?”
Mildred wasn't surprised to feel a wave of warmth roll through her midsection coming to settle in between her thighs. She'd be a liar if she said she no longer had feelings for him, because she did. Feelings like that don't die so easy. But she despised him too, and that was the emotion she forced her mind to concentrate on.
“Oh, look at the time,” she blurted suddenly, jumping up from the couch.
Tony sighed. “Yeah, I think we should get going.”
The Coach House, like so many other establishments on the island, had once been the home of a reputable doctor, but more than twenty years ago it had been turned into a bar and restaurant, offering open-air dining beneath the stars. The bar area was a popular gathering spot for locals, expats, and tourists, who threw back drink after drink as they watched cricket and soccer matches on the forty-inch flat-screen television. There was a pool table beyond the bar, and on Thursday nights a local band, along with half-priced drinks, brought in hundreds of people from all over the tiny island.
Tony and Mildred took a seat beside a palm tree with its trunk twined in clear Christmas lights.
“I'll have the pumpkin soup and the house salad,” Mildred said, handing her menu to the waiter.
“And you, sir?”
“Um, give me the grilled snapper with plantains and salad.”
When the waiter hurried off to fill their orders, Tony lifted his glass of champagne in the air.
“To you.”
A blushing Mildred reached for her own glass. “Thank you.”
Their glasses came together.
Mildred's head was light. She'd only had breakfast that morning, and now the glass of wine she'd consumed at Tony's place and this champagne were making her feel giddy.
Tony was gazing at her, the reflection of the small tea candle flame dancing in his irises.
“What?” Mildred asked in a demure voice.
“I don't know,” Tony said, shaking his head in bewilderment. “There's something about you that I just can't put my finger on.”
Mildred's heart began to race. Was he beginning to realize who she was? Panicked, she reached for her glass and drained its contents.
“Easy with that.” Tony laughed, reaching for the champagne bottle and filling Mildred's glass.
Mildred shot him an embarrassed grin.
“Don't get me wrong, it's a good thing. It feels familiar.”
“Familiar?” Mildred's eyes bulged.
“Yeah,” Tony said, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his. “It's like I've known you my entire life,” he said as his thumb moved seductively over the back of her hand.
Small electric jolts shot through Mildred.
“Maybe in a past life?”
Tony laughed. “Maybe that's it!”
After their meal, Tony suggested a game of pool.
“I don't know how to play.”
“Don't worry; I'll teach you.”
Mildred was feeling so mellow, her eyes were droopy and she couldn't get rid of the mischievous grin stuck as if with glue on her face.
“You're even sexier when you're drunk,” Tony whispered in her ear.
“I-I'm not drunk!” Mildred laughed.
Tony stood behind her. “Okay, sure,” he said in a patronizing tone. “Now, this is how you hold the cue stick.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Now bend,” Tony instructed.
Mildred bent over and her body took on a seductive curve. “Like this?”
Tony could feel his dick stiffening as he gazed down at Mildred's plump behind. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
“Like this, Tony?” she repeated when he didn't respond.
“Yeah, baby, just like that!” yelled out a man who'd also been ogling her behind, from the bar.
Tony turned cold eyes on him but said nothing.
“Karma, you don't have to bend over quite so far,” he said, suddenly feeling very possessive.
Another bottle of champagne and two really bad games of pool later, they found themselves stumbling down the road toward Tony's house. The alcohol had swelled Mildred's feet something awful, and she'd slipped out of her high heels.
“Here,” she slurred in a demanding tone, tossing the shoes at Tony, “carry these.”
Tony, who was slightly less inebriated but inebriated just the same, barely caught hold of the shoes and then found himself slightly annoyed at her tone.
“What's the magic word?” he called to her.
Mildred turned on her bare heels and strutted provocatively toward him. As she approached, Tony could feel his balls begin to tingle. Looking closer, he saw a glint in Mildred's eyes that he hadn't noticed before.
Coming toward him, Mildred saw herself snatching the stilettos from him and mashing one heel and then the next into each of his eyes.
When she was face-to-face wit
h him, she raised her arms and was amused to see Tony cringe.
“Oh, pleaaasee,” she cried, throwing her arms around him, leaning in to press her lips to his, instantly sweeping away the creepy feeling that had gripped him seconds earlier.
They strolled side by side toward Tony's rented house, Mildred's shoes dangling from Tony's hand by their straps. He mused that if one of his boys were there to witness the scene, they would certainly assume he was whipped. What was next, his carrying her pocketbook?
Closer to the house, Mildred threw her head back. “Oh, God—look at that moon!”
It was a beautiful sight: large, round, and bright.
“It's romantic, isn't it?” Tony said as he tilted his head back to admire it.
“Very.”
“How about a walk on the beach?”
Tony removed his sandals and tossed their shoes inside the hull of a wooden fishing boat that had been pulled up and onto the beach. “It'll be safe, don't worry,” Tony assured her when he saw the look of concern on her face.
The sand was soft beneath their feet as they strolled along in silence, hands linked, the sound of surf lapping gently against the shore in the background.
How many times had she fantasized about this exact moment? Too many to count, she mused as they walked along. And now there she was. The moment was so perfect, it was such a shame that it was happening with a low-down backstabbing stuck-up son of a—
“Karma?”
Mildred snapped back.
“Wow, now whose mind is a million miles away?” Tony asked, his face glowing with amusement. “I called your name like three times.”
“Oh,” Mildred said with a wave of her hand, “I was just thinking what a beautiful night it is.”
“That it is,” Tony agreed, and with that he turned, swept her into his arms, and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.
Mildred, taken off-guard, made a weak attempt to push him away, but when his tongue found hers, she felt her legs go limp.
They kissed that way for some time, their hands moving slowly over each other's body. When the kiss finally came to an end, they remained pressed against each other, breathless with desire.
“I want you, Karma. I want you so bad,” Tony unbelievingly heard himself utter.
Mildred was on fire. She pulled his lips back to hers as she reached down and caught hold of his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Tony asked when she'd raised the shirt up to his chest.
“Sssh.” Mildred pressed her index finger gently against his lips. Tony fell quiet and allowed her to slowly undress him.
She held his gaze as she undid his zipper, slipped her hand inside his khakis, and found his throbbing member. Butterflies erupted in her stomach and a small sigh escaped her.
In her mind, she could clearly picture his penis—every bulging vein, its smooth, shiny tip. God, how she'd missed it.
“Hey, hey, let's go back to the house,” Tony suggested when he thought he saw movement from behind a cluster of bearded fig trees. “Someone might see.”
“I don't care who sees,” Mildred said as she pulled his penis from his pants.
Mildred eased herself down onto the sand. Placing Tony's shirt beneath her head, she beckoned him with her eyes.
Tony climbed on top of her, hastily pushing his pants down and around his knees. They kissed passionately as he worked to remove first one breast and then the other from the bodice of her dress, after which he pressed them together, enclosing his mouth hungrily over both nipples, causing Mildred to cry out in pleasure.
As his tongue worked, something struck in him as he slowly realized that this was only the second woman he'd run across with such long, taut nipples. The first had been Mildred.
“Touch me,” Mildred moaned into his ear as she guided his hand down between her legs. He worked his fingers beneath the silky strip of thong and was greeted with warm, sticky wetness.
His breathing became shallow as the excitement built. Mildred assisted in getting her thong off by shimmying her behind deep into the sand. The friction lent more heat to the already raging inferno inside of him.
Without even a thought of a condom, Tony pushed in.
Inhaling deeply, he took a moment to bask in the burning heat of her vagina before he pushed deeper.
“Oh, God,” Mildred cried, clawing at his back.
“You can call me Tony,” he said with a shuddering breath as he began the first of a series of rhythmic thrusts.
“Yah nasty dog!”
Tony heard the damning words through the darkness. And then his foot was being kicked. His eyes flew open.
“Get up, yah nasty buzzard!”
Another kick was levied, this time to his thigh.
Baffled and confused, he bolted upright, rubbing his eyes and then peering at the person screaming at him.
He knew the face—her name was Anita and she sold fish at the fish stand located a few yards down the beach.
Tony's head pounded.
“Drunkard!” she spat.
What is this woman doing in his house?
“Murder! Murder!” the woman wailed as she started past him.
It was then that Tony realized he wasn't in his house but on the beach. In front of him, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. A few feet away a group of fishermen pointed and laughed as they hauled their boat into the water.
Tony looked down and his Johnson looked back at him.
He was stark naked!
“Murder, murder!” the old woman continued to yell as she ran toward the road.
Yelling murder was the Bajan equivalent of yelling for help.
Tony jumped up and looked around wildly for his clothes. They were gone. Covering his penis, he ran down the beach, cutting up and between two clapboard houses before darting across the road (nearly getting hit by a speeding cement truck) and then onto the veranda of his house.
CHAPTER
Fifty-five
Chevy was laughing so hard, tears had started to drip from her eyes. “Are you serious?” she asked for the fifth time.
They were seated out on the terrace of her room. Mildred's legs were crossed and glistening in the sun.
“You fucked him and then you left him there on the beach? Naked? You took his clothes? You did all that?”
Mildred nodded and gave Chevy a mischievous grin.
Chevy raised her hand. “My girl!”
Mildred smacked her palm with her own.
“Did he call?”
Mildred nodded.
“Oooh, he's mad, ain't he?” Chevy leaned in. She was so enjoying this.
“Well, in the first message he sounded calm, but by message number five he was screaming like a—”
“Bitch?”
“Well, I was going to say like a banshee, but I guess bitch is just as good.” Mildred laughed and they slapped palms again.
“Thank goodness he doesn't know where you're staying,” Chevy said before turning her attention to a small yellow-bellied bird that had landed on the rim of the terrace, watching them curiously. “Well, if he still wants you after something like that, then I'd have to say that he's whipped and good.”
“We'll see,” Mildred said as she absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair between her fingers.
“So how are you going to explain yourself when you finally do speak to him?”
“I don't know. I haven't figured that out yet.”
CHAPTER
Fifty-six
Tony's emotions and thoughts had run the gamut from anger to fear and back again.
They'd both been so drunk that it was a possibility that Karma had stumbled into the ocean and drowned. He'd gone back to the beach to see if he could find any evidence of that, but he was no policeman and he didn't know what to look for.
He'd called her cell phone numerous times, but the calls had gone directly to voice mail.
She could have wandered into the ocean, he thought again as he gazed out at the vast blue wa
ter.
“Nah,” he muttered as he shook the terrible thought from his mind.
But what had happened to his clothes?
Maybe she took them?
But why would she?
Maybe someone had kidnapped her? There were sick people in the world. He imagined Karma tied up and naked in some filthy backroom, her assailant holding her as his personal sex slave.
“You're losing it, man!” Tony yelled out, and then quickly tried to erase the vision from his mind.
Sex slave?
He was too distraught and confused to even put his Jet Skis in the water that day. Instead, he spent the entire day with the phone book open on his lap as he called one hotel after the other in search of his mystery woman.
“May I speak to Karma Jackson, please?”
And with each call he received the same response: “Sorry, sir. We don't have a guest registered here with that name.”
Tony walked circles as he scratched his head. None of it made sense. And to make things worse he hadn't used a condom! He didn't know this woman from Adam and he'd had unprotected sex with her.
Granted, it was probably the best sex he'd ever had. Just thinking about it caused his dick to react.
He wondered if he should call the police and report her missing, but he decided against it. The last thing he needed was to have an officer of the law snooping into his back-ground. But if someone came to look for her, questions would be asked, and people had seen them together.
Tony's mind whirled. He tried Karma's cell again. Still no answer.
“Karma, please call me. I need to know that you're okay.”
Three days went by before Karma called.
Chevy had driven by his house and saw him sitting on the veranda.
“The boy looks fucked up,” she snickered. “I think it's time you called.”
“Hey.”
“K-Karma?”
“Yep.”
Tony's hand was shaking. He pressed the phone tightly against his ear. “Karma Jackson?”
“Yes, Tony, it's me,” Mildred said in a bored tone.
Tony's mouth went dry. For the past three days he'd kept expecting to open the paper and see the caption: “Unidentified Woman's Body Washes Ashore.”
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