TroubleinParadise

by Cindy Jacks

  Another drop of sweat slid down her cheek, Sione raised a hand to wipe it away but she took a step back.

  His wounded expression said more than his words ever could. He alternated between looking at her and looking at the ground. “Just give me a chance to explain what I mean.”

  “No.”

  “Why? You think I don’t see how you look at me? You think I didn’t understand why you danced so close to me the other night? You feel it too. I know you do.” Again, Sione reached for her, and again, she stepped back.

  Hands still trembling, she waved him away. “No. This doesn’t happen, tonight or any other night. We don’t talk about this again and we don’t tell Mika. Is that clear?”

  “But—”

  “I’m married to Mika. I’m in love with Mika. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. It’s my fault too that we’ve come to this point, but let’s just walk away from it before we do something that’s not so easy to walk away from. Okay?”

  Sione nodded.

  Still flush with anger, hopelessness and sadness, Clarissa walked out of the courtyard, out of the building and to the parking garage. Only once she’d made it home did she realize she’d left her studio wide open.

  The phone call physically pained her, but she forced herself to dial. Too much expensive equipment there.

  Sione picked up on the third ring.

  “I need a favor,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Kala, I’m so sorry.”

  “Hush. I didn’t call you to talk about that. Are you still at the Art Building?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could you lock up my studio, please?”

  “Already did.”

  “Thanks. Good night.”

  “Good night, Kala.”

  She ended the call, then collapsed on the couch. Her mind raced along, trying to sort out thoughts and emotions that could not be sorted. This whole thing with Sione was a knotted mess, each string leading to an imperfect and potentially disastrous outcome. Exploring either of their amorous impulses was out of the question. Being honest with Mika seemed insane. The only option left was to ignore what could not be ignored—not in Sione’s presence, not in her most private thoughts, not when she was honest with herself. But she had to. She had to. This was no way to live, walking on the edge of a razor blade. One false move and she’d be cut to ribbons.

  Curling into a ball, she sobbed until she fell into a fitful slumber.

  At twelve thirty, Mika crawled in.

  “Tough night, sweetheart?” she asked, yawning and stretching.

  Faced with her husband’s gentle smile, she wondered how there could be any doubt at all. She loved him. Plain and simple.

  “Yeah, we were packed.” He sank down beside her and kissed her cheek. “You been crying, baby?”

  “Nah. My eyes are just tired from some fine detail work.”

  “Then let’s fall into bed together.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve heard all day.”

  Mika took her hand and followed her to bed. Though the conversation with Sione played inside her mind in an endless loop, Clarissa managed to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  * * * * *

  Clarissa swirled her disposable cup, hoping to free a few more droplets of orange soda from the ice cubes.

  Slurp. No such luck.

  Michelle picked at the last of her sushi, gaze fixed on the large wall of glass.

  The two had decided to take a couple hours for lunch and window shopping at Ala Moana Center—a break from a typical Wednesday smack in the middle of a week that seemed to drag on without end. Tourists usually proved a source of endless entertainment—but today an unusual silence rested between Clarissa and her friend.

  They stared across the food court out the picture window that gave a view of the beach park, neither one paying much attention to the parade of scantily clad arms, legs, bellies and backsides. Clarissa and Michelle took for granted the white sand, graceful arches of palm trees and blue-green water that shifted from turquoise to deep indigo as it met the cloudless sky on the horizon.

  “Okay, we’re too damn quiet,” Michelle said.

  Clarissa set aside her drink. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You know you can.”

  “It’s kinda uncomfortable to talk about and if you don’t want to talk about it just tell me so.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  “It’s not. Well, maybe it is. It’s just…” Clarissa groped for words. How could she explain the events of the past few days? Only one word came to mind. “Sione.”

  Michelle’s brows drew together. “What about him?”

  What did she want to ask? Well, she knew what she wanted to ask. What do his lips taste like? How warm are his hands against bare skin? What sound does he make when he sinks himself inside… No, stop it.

  Finally, she said, “Why did you two break up? You never told me why and I know you don’t like to talk about him. Just tell me to mind my own beeswax if you don’t want to answer.”

  Her friend giggled. “Did you just say ‘beeswax’?”

  “Ha. Yeah, I did.”

  “You’re such a white girl,” Michelle teased. Chewing on her lip, she seemed to go over some sort of internal dialogue. “How to put this? Sione and I are like… We’re like gasoline and fire. The good things about each other we heighten, but same goes for the bad things. My temper gets hotter, his rebellious streak gets wider. At least that’s the way it felt. Why do you ask?”

  Clarissa drew in a deep breath, scenes from Sione’s confession flashing through her mind. Her throat constricted as if to contain the words. She didn’t want to tell anyone that things had gone as far as they had. When she was honest with herself, she knew the way she’d skirted the edge of cheating on Mika was a betrayal. And with his own cousin for crissakes. What would her friend think if she knew the truth?

  “Earth to Kala.” Michelle snapped her fingers.

  “Sorry.” Clarissa shook her head to clear it, but instead tears rushed to her eyes. “I have to talk to someone, but I think you’re going to think badly of me.”

  “Hey, you know it’s not like that with us. Spill it, girl.”

  A shaky breath failed to loosen the tension binding her rib cage. “I’ve been having these thoughts about Sione.”

  Michelle shrugged. “We always talk about him like that. It’s okay.”

  “Yeah, but for a while now, every time I’m around him, I feel like he sucks all the oxygen from the room.”

  “Well, he’s pretty good at that. It’s part of his charm.”

  “And with all the fights Mika and I have been having…I almost kissed him the other night.”

  “Who?”

  Clarissa balled her hands into fists and pressed them to her lips, her voice a mere squeak. “Sione.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “I mean, not almost kissed him. We could’ve kissed, the opportunity was there and I barely stopped myself. But I wanted to. God, I wanted to.”

  “That’s not so bad. You can’t control how you feel all the time, but at least you didn’t act on those feelings.”

  “True.” Clarissa wrapped and unwrapped a strand of hair around one finger. “But all the things he was saying… It was hard to control myself and I can’t stop thinking about it now.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Some nonsense that he’s always had feelings for me and how hard it is that I’m his cousin’s wife. And if we were both free… I don’t know, it’s crazy.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I didn’t appreciate being put in this position and that he should never talk to me like that again.”

  “Good for you.”

  Stacking the paper plates and empty cups on a tray, Michelle stayed quiet. The women bussed their table and headed for the parking lot. Michelle’s Toyota hybrid waited in its shaded spot.

  As they climbed into the car, Claris
sa asked, “Do you think badly of me?”

  “No. It was just a moment of weakness. You’re beating yourself up too much. You did the right thing.”

  “I guess. I just wish I could stop thinking about him. It’s like he opened the door and now I can’t slam it shut again.”

  Michelle whipped the little car out of the parking space and headed for Ala Moana Boulevard. “I tell you this much, Sione isn’t worth the stress. He’s an irresponsible jerk who thinks he can say and do anything he wants without consequences. And believe me, your negative reaction is enough to scare him off. Anything too real or too complicated would be too much like work for him. Trust me on that. Don’t waste another minute thinking about him.”

  “Did I touch a nerve here?” Clarissa asked. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “No, why do you say that?” The engine revved.

  “No reason.”

  Gripping the passenger door handle, Clarissa cringed as Michelle cut around a slow driver in the fast lane. Yeah…no reason at all.

  * * * * *

  The front door slammed with more vigor than usual, especially for a Saturday night. And a couple hours early too.

  “Baby, you home?” Mika called out.

  “In the kitchen.” Clarissa put away the small casting she was sanding.

  Still dressed in his chef coat and checked pants, he planted a kiss on her cheek. He smelled of grilled salmon.

  “Ew, you didn’t shower.”

  “Sorry, baby, but I have such great news I didn’t want to wait.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I got it. You’re looking at the new sous chef.”

  Clarissa jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God. That’s awesome. I knew you were a shoe-in.”

  He kissed her, cradling her face in his hands. “We have to celebrate.”

  “First things first. You need a shower, fish-boy.”

  “Maybe you can help me out with that?” He tugged at the waistband of her shorts.

  “Maybe.”

  Shedding clothes along the way, they scurried through their bedroom into the bathroom. Mika started the water, climbed into the shower ahead of Clarissa and started to soap up.

  “So when do you start?” she asked, letting her hair down.

  “In about a month. I’ve got to train my replacement and go through a couple weeks of management classes.”

  “That’s awesome. Is it safe to get in?” she asked.

  “Yeah. All fish has been eliminated. Get your pretty little ass in here.”

  She climbed in and took a moment to admire her husband’s wet, naked form. Water surged over her body and she relaxed into the hot stream. His hands slid down her body and he dropped to his knees, burying his face between her legs.

  “Whatcha doing?” she asked.

  “Thought you’d like a little attention, just for you.”

  “Mmm, I love the idea.”

  Using long strokes of his tongue, he swiped at her soft folds. She shivered, latching on to the back of his head and leaning against one shower wall. The heat of the water and his mouth against her pussy set her body on fire. Immediate need blossomed in her core, the tension spreading through her body.

  Mika put one of her legs over his shoulders. His tongue slipped inside her and back over her clit, taking advantage of the greater access. She flexed her thighs, each little squeeze tugging at her mound. Ripples of pleasure moved out from her cunt. Her breath quickened and caught in her throat. She gave herself over to the ecstasy of each pass of his tongue. The soft lapping sound filled the shower. Little by little, he edged her closer to coming.

  She moaned and arched against him, a wordless plea for release, but he teased her, easing the pressure.

  Hands tangled in his hair, she pulled gently. “Don’t stop.”

  A chuckle vibrated her clit. He was having fun. Pushing her mound against his face, she held him firmly in place. He laved with renewed ardor, clearly taking her not-so-subtle hint. When he finally brought her to climax, he continued to lick and suck until the powerful sensations buckled her stance.

  Getting to his feet, he embraced her, his strong arms encircled her and she rested against him. She could tell by his quick breathing he wasn’t finished with her. Not by a long shot.

  Hand trailing down her torso, he slid his fingers between her wet folds. Her swollen clit throbbed. He turned her around, his cock nestled between her ass cheeks. Arching her back, she pressed her opening against the velvety head.

  Slowly he eased inside her. She sighed. Though she loved when he gave her head, nothing compared to the way he filled her.

  Leaning her forward, he settled his torso against her back. His slick skin slid over hers with each thrust. Their bodies united, she trembled not only with pleasure but with emotion. This was what she needed—tenderness, passion, affection, intimacy. Mika loved her and she loved him. Why couldn’t every minute together be this simple, this clear?

  Pussy clenched around his cock, she panted, trying to manage the sensations racking her body. As he held her close, he pumped harder, faster, his cock passing over her most sensitive spots.

  So perfect, so right, she let the pleasure sweep her along. Cunt tight with the need to come, emotion pressed at the walls of her chest. Tears sprang into her eyes. This was all she ever wanted, ever needed. Just like the first time they’d been together.

  As tremors pulled her closer to orgasm she cried out. Her body belonged to Mika, he owned her. He always had. More tears leaked down her cheeks. Grateful for the camouflage of the shower, she planted her hands against the tile wall. Bracing herself, she gasped for air. It was all too much, her love for Mika and the pleasure he gave.

  Pushing into her, he held her fast. As his cock twitched, another wave of pleasure hit her. She came with him, hiding her sobs with moans.

  Little by little the world returned to her. She noticed his smooth skin against hers, the water running over them both. She blinked away the guilt and pain, embracing the affection blossoming in her core.

  Lips to her ear, he murmured, “Where would you like to go tonight?”

  A lazy shrug on her part. Dinner was the furthest thing from her mind.

  They finished showering and continued to throw out ideas about where to eat. At first they thought to paint the town red at a fancy restaurant, but then again maybe not. Since Mika dealt with gourmet cuisine every night, they decided to go to their favorite Mongolian barbeque joint to celebrate. He pulled on a pair of Jams and a t-shirt. Clarissa wore jeans shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top. Casual fun, like the old days.

  Laughing and full of good humor, they made their way to the restaurant and seated themselves in an empty booth. Red vinyl seats, checkered vinyl tablecloth, but what the décor lacked, the smell of beef and chicken seared in sesame oil more than made up for. Their usual waitress greeted them with two beers.

  “To you, sweetheart. I knew you could do it.” Clarissa raised her glass to her husband.

  Mika clinked his mug to hers. “Thanks, baby. You make me feel like I can do anything.”

  “You do great all on your own.”

  “Speaking of greatness, how goes the project for the Performing Arts Center?”

  “Good. Hector loved the model. I’ve collected about two-thirds of the bronze I need from scraps and by bartering with my friends and professors. I’m going to be chained to the TIG welder next semester.”

  “Hmm…you in leather all day. I like that idea.”

  “Yeah, all sweaty and stinky. Very sexy.”

  “Well, if it brings down the out-of-pocket expenditure, you can be as sweaty and stinky as you want to be.”

  “Yep. Now I just have to figure out where to get all those keys.” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

  “My hours will be changing soon,” he said, clearly eager to change the topic of conversation. “I’ll be running the swing shift from ten to six so I’ll be home for dinner every night.”

  “
That’ll be cool.”

  He covered her hands with his. “Everything’s coming together. You finish your thesis this spring. By then we’ll have saved for a down payment.” Pausing, he continued to stroke her palms. Clarissa knew what would come next. Lips pressed together, she braced herself.

  Just stay calm, stay noncommittal.

  Mika went on, “Do you think then we’ll be ready to start trying?”

  “Maybe. I mean, let’s see what kind of job offers I get.”

  He cleared his throat. “You know, you won’t have to work once my raise kicks in and the stock options and everything.”

  “I know, but I want to. I love teaching.”

  Releasing her hands, he slumped back against the booth and took a drink of beer. Irritation tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Why don’t we talk about something else? We’re supposed to be celebrating, not fighting,” she said.

  “Yep.”

  The waitress appeared with their soup. Clarissa crumbled fried lumpia into hers and added two dashes of shoyu. With a blank expression, Mika did the same.

  “You’re mad at me.” She sighed.

  He shook his head. “No. Just frustrated.”

  “I promise in the spring we can talk about all this, okay?”

  “Yeah. And I know how that conversation will go. I’ll say I want to try, then you’ll come up with another excuse to put it off. You’ll have just started a new job or there will be another big project or whatever.”

  She dropped her soup spoon into the bowl. “I don’t see what the rush is.”

  “Because I’d like to have kids before I’m fifty years old.”

  “You knew when we got married I didn’t want to start a family right away.”

  “Three years later isn’t right away.”

  “Can’t you try to see it my way?” She rubbed her temples, a headache developing over her brow. “A child doesn’t change much for you. Sure, you’ll lose some sleep making a token effort to get up in the middle of the night once in a while. You won’t be able to go out with the guys as often, but that’s it. You’ll still exist outside the house. But it doesn’t work like that for me. You expect me to give up my job, my artwork, everything that makes me who I am so I can sit home all day vacuuming and breastfeeding.”