RealLife Rum

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RealLife Rum Page 6

by Mickey J Corrigan


  He laughed. “Where you from? Miami?”

  “Yeah,” I lied. “I’m just up here on business.”

  “Let me guess.” He leaned down to look in my face. “Sales, right? You sell vitamins.”

  Please.

  “Wow, you’re good,” I said with a fake smile. “How’d you know that?”

  He swelled up, tossed his long dark hair. His ego was pumped so easily. I knew I could have him if I snapped my fingers and pointed to my suite. But I had zero interest. No challenge to it.

  “Studied psychology in college. I’m working on my masters now. Marketing.”

  “Ooooh. How interesting.” I slugged the second drink. The one with the blue umbrella. “Think you can make me a couple more of these babies? I had a hard day. Selling boner vitamins. You know, to men who can’t get it up. I sell to the ones who are scared to take Cialis. In case they can’t get it down again.”

  Give me a couple of rum drinks, and I can get really mean.

  Jeremy was smooth, though. He didn’t blink. His smile faded a little, but he went off to blend me another double round.

  I stared out the window. Palm trees swayed in the yellow streetlight. Cars skidded past on the beach road. Neon signs advertised happy hours, take-out food, deals on pre-owned vehicles. Dusky Beach was just like any other town. I couldn’t wait to leave.

  When the blender stopped screeching, that’s when I heard his voice. “Miss Winston. I’ve been looking for you.”

  Doug. Officer Doug Manning.

  Oh oh.

  I didn’t turn around. Looking at him would not help me remain chill. Instead, I said, “Hey, Jeremy. Can you get my friend here a drink? Put it on my tab.”

  Ever the professional, Jeremy said, “Hey, Officer Manning. Can I get you a Coke or something?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll need coffee, though. If you have some made.”

  “I don’t, sorry,” Jeremy said as he served me my double round. “I’ll call the restaurant and have Curtis bring up a fresh pot.”

  I still hadn’t looked at Doug. He was standing behind me, so close I could feel the heat of his nice big body warming my back.

  “Thanks, Jeremy. Appreciate it. I have a long night ahead of me.” He slid onto the bar stool beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his serious face get even more serious as I lifted the daiquiri to my lips. This one had a gold umbrella with little pink hearts on it. “I don’t want to get Jeremy in trouble. He’s a good kid. Needs the job to get himself through his MBA program.” Doug cleared his throat. “But if I see you drink any of that, I may have to make some trouble for him. Serving alcohol to someone under the legal drinking age is a serious offense.”

  Thank god he’d kept his voice low. I didn’t feel like being the center of attention. Not again.

  I put the drink down. “Tell you what, Officer Manning. If you walk me to my room, I won’t drink any more of Jeremy’s shitty daiquiris. How’s that?”

  Doug stood up. “Hey, Jeremy? Tell Curtis to bring the coffee to Miss Winston’s suite, would you? I need to talk to her, and she needs to be on her toes.”

  The look Jeremy gave us was worth the humiliation of Doug treating me like a drunken child. Jeremy knew exactly what was up between me and Hot Cop. I could see the competitive jealousy in his eyes.

  He nodded and took out his cell phone. Doug helped me down from the stool. I wasn’t totally smashed, but I wasn’t sober either. I hadn’t eaten anything since the little bag of nuts they gave me on the flight east. So my legs were wobbly and I was on a rum spin-cycle.

  Whoopee.

  I leaned on Doug and let him guide me out of the bar, down the hall to my suite. I handed him my key card, and he let us inside.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, I flung myself at him. I could always blame the demon rum, but the truth was, I was insanely hot for him. No matter how he treated me. Or maybe because of how he treated me.

  He kissed me back with great vigor. So I slid my hands inside his suit jacket and rubbed his chest. Then I unbuttoned his shirt and sucked his nipples until he groaned.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Lightning Bolt Curtis. With the coffee.

  I walked into the living room, careful not to trip on the step down, and flopped onto one of the red leather loveseats. My head buzzed and my crotch throbbed. Reminded me of being in Doug’s crappy little office with the loud overhead light, watching this hunky man from the far side of his desk.

  Nothing like having your fantasy come true. Especially after one hard suck of a day.

  Curtis wheeled his cart into the vestibule and said, “Thanks, Officer Manning!” in a dorky voice. Well, at least one of us was going to get laid.

  Doug brought over a cup of black coffee in a pink porcelain cup fit for a Palm Beach tea. Or what I imagined those high end dames would use at their teas.

  No way. I was not about to ruin my buzz with caffeine.

  He set the cup on the glass coffee table by my knees and went to get himself some coffee. What was the man thinking? That it was time for another interrogation?

  “Doug? What are you doing?” I kicked off my strappy sandals, laid back on the couch, and unzipped my jeans. Obviously, I had to be the aggressor in this relationship. If you could call it that.

  He sat down across from me and sipped his coffee while I wriggled out of my jeans. No panties. The pants were just too tight, even for a thong.

  He drank more coffee. What was with cops and coffee, anyway?

  “Why did you run off like that?” He watched me as I stood up and walked away.

  I moved slowly toward the window, casting myself in the light from outside. I could feel Doug’s eyes on my half naked body, and it was making me drip.

  The stars and the nearly full moon were so bright, they lit up the room. It was like daylight, almost, only more romantic. I turned around slowly to face him. I ran my hands up and down my thighs and through my pubic hair. I’m proud of my bush. It’s very light blonde. Guys usually can’t believe how pale and fine the hair is.

  “I was worried, Marina.” His voice was low in his throat.

  I pulled my T-shirt over my head. “You don’t look worried.” I licked my lips, then I licked my index finger.

  “How do I look?” He set his coffee cup on the table.

  “You look excited.”

  I plumped my breasts for a second until the nipples hardened. Then I slid a finger inside my dampness, closed my eyes, and moaned. It was an act, of course, but I was wet as a seal.

  He launched out of his seat like a heat seeking missile, stripping off his jacket and shirt as he jogged toward me. I helped him with his belt and pants.

  Here was a man who didn’t need any boner vitamins.

  The coffee got cold. We didn’t.

  Epilogue

  Dusky Beach would never have been my choice of a place to settle down. I arrived in this down-low part of the world because someone else was running my life. I stayed because I’d finally taken it over.

  And Dusky meant Doug. I wanted him to share my life. Lucky for me, he wanted me to share his. Real life, that is. Our real life.

  Now that I’m over twenty-one, we like to celebrate. Every once in a while on the first of the month, we meet at the upstairs bar at the Beach Club. First I hang out there by myself and drink too many daiquiris. They’re complementary, though, because I work the day shift at the front desk now. While I attend night classes at NOVA for my MBA. Jeremy showed me the ropes. He’s not so bad, really, as long as you don’t tease him.

  The way we do it is, I go up to the top floor alone and sit on a bar stool in the twilight, sipping my umbrella drinks. Then Doug saunters in. He gives me the cold shoulder, then we flirt a little. After he orders a pot of coffee, he walks me to the Dragonfly Suite. I always get the employee discount for the night, but it still costs Doug half a week’s pay. It’s worth it, though.

  I love us at the Beach Club. First we are strangers. Lusting strang
ers. Then I take off my clothes and he watches me. With those amazing blue eyes. I play with myself until he can’t stand it anymore. Sometimes, I make him wait even longer. Just for the fun of it.

  Just because I can.

  Soon enough, though, we are all over one another. I make him groan and he makes me scream. On the floor in the starlight. In the Jacuzzi with all the jets on high. In the canopied bed with my long legs wrapped around his hard waist. We don’t talk much. We pretend it’s all new. We act as if we may never see one another again.

  On these nights, we don’t have a normal life together. We don’t have a big mortgage on a small house in a half-assed development in west Dusky. We don’t have a tiny kitchen, a cracked asphalt driveway, a leaky roof. We don’t have bills to pay or mounting college debt. He doesn’t work too late, and I don’t get nasty when I have to study for finals.

  Instead, we’re two people eyeing one another across a cluttered desk, at a quiet hotel bar, in a luxury suite overlooking the ocean. A young woman and an older man. Two ordinary individuals who just met by luck. Or fate. Or destiny.

  And we want one another.

  So we take what we want, no matter how wrong it is.

  We are wild creatures. We are insatiable. We drive each other to the brink over and over, then over it. Again and again.

  We are bad and we know it. This is our destiny. And it feels so good.

  If only Harry were watching me now. If Beth Anne Freedmont still had a hedge bet in place, she’d lose. I’m not the good girl she and those other rich shits thought I was.

  Not that Mr. X and his hedgers are betting on much these days. They’re too busy fighting for their freedom. The indictments came down hard. The civil lawsuits drag on and on. All of us human investments stand to make a fortune. That is, if the government and the lawyers don’t take it all.

  Talk about a Big Pot of Luck!

  Poor Harry. He had a good heart. But he was such a romantic, he missed out on all the fun.

  About the Author

  Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan lives and writes and gets into trouble in South Florida, where the men run guns and the women run after them. She is the author of half a dozen novellas including the paranormal romance Dream Job, the romantic romp Me Go Mango, and the geek love story Geekus Interruptus. Her first novel, Sugar Babies, is a sexy thriller.

  ~*~

  Visit Mickey at

  http://www.mickeyjcorrigan.com

  ~*~

  To chat with Mickey J. Corrigan and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewildrosepress.

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