An Island Affair

by Monica Richardson

  “You want to see?”

  He looked at me and his eyes reminded me of a small boy’s eyes. When he nodded, I turned my computer around and he stared into his father’s eyes on the screen.

  “Wow,” he murmured. “I look like him.”

  “Yes, you do. You should reach out to him.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. It’s the only way you’ll feel some peace about this. Maybe it will answer some of your questions.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. “I should do it in person. Not over the phone.”

  “I agree.” I closed my computer and placed it on top of the baby grand. I moved closer to Jackson. I hugged him tightly, hoping that I could ease his fears a bit. He felt good in my arms.

  My eyes met his and his lips gently touched mine. The kiss was sweeter than I remembered from the beach almost a week before. I knew it well because I’d replayed it in my mind a million times since then. I’d savored every single memory of our first kiss.

  Unexpectedly, his fingertips began to glide gently across my breasts, causing my nipples to stiffen from his touch. With hesitation, he waited for my response. I closed my eyes and eased closer to him. He accepted the unspoken invitation and effortlessly lifted my shirt over my head, then loosened my bra. The coolness of the room caused me to shiver; goose bumps danced up and down my arms. His lips abandoned my mouth and began to explore the roundness of my breasts, taking the nipples in between his teeth at intervals. His fingers gently caressed my midsection, toyed with my navel and then rigorously loosened the button of my khaki shorts. After removing my shorts, Jackson boldly explored the soft area beneath my delicate, sheer panties. I felt guilty for not returning the pleasure right away, but I selfishly wanted to enjoy every moment. The sensation of his fingertips inside of me only caused me to moan and kiss him deeper.

  Finally my hands explored the strength of his chest and arms that I’d admired on too many occasions since meeting Jackson Conner. I loosened the belt of his jeans and reached inside for him, carefully freeing him, holding him and stroking just enough to make him shudder.

  “What are you doing to me?” he whispered. His lips were wet against my earlobe.

  I had no words. I hoped that the fire in my eyes was answer enough. It must’ve been because he quickly produced a condom and put it on. In one motion he lifted my body and placed me onto his lap. He entered me and we both sighed as our bodies moved together in a sexy motion. His lips explored my ample breasts again—one by one—nibbling each one as if enjoying his favorite indulgence. He gently began to caress the small of my back and then explored the roundness of my soft behind. We made sweet love as the thunder roared just outside the window of the Clydesdale.

  * * *

  The sun gently crept its way across my nose and I opened my eyes. The sun was now beaming as if thunder hadn’t roared all night. Wearing nothing more than the diamond earrings my brother Nate had given me for my birthday, I struggled to figure out where I was. The sheets that covered my naked body smelled of fabric softener.

  “Good morning, Sunshine.” Jackson appeared in the doorway of the Symonette Room, wearing an apron with nothing underneath. He carried food on a tray.

  “What time is it?” I asked, searching for my phone.

  “Eight or so,” he said. “I made breakfast.”

  “You can cook?”

  “I make a mean omelet. It’s my pride and joy.”

  “Really?”

  He caused me to blush for no apparent reason at all. It could have been because I was completely naked underneath the sheet that just barely covered me. And quite possibly because the red apron barely covered his nakedness. He was undeniably sexy. His strong arms protruded from beneath the apron, as did his muscular legs. Arms that had held me and legs that had wrapped around me as I experienced pleasure like never before. I had only recently run my fingers through those curly locks of his and gazed into those light brown eyes until well into the night. Those lips had been tender against mine, and those fingertips had danced in places that had never been touched like that before.

  “It looks wonderful.”

  I was greeted with a perfect omelet accompanied by fresh fruit and a slice of wheat toast. “A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice for you,” he said with a smile.

  “You squeezed oranges?”

  “I said it was freshly squeezed. I didn’t say I did it.” He laughed. “Said it on the carton.”

  “Okay.” I laughed, too.

  The hard exterior that Jackson once had was slowly being chipped away, and I was completely drawn to the man underneath. He was interesting and funny—a perfect gentleman. And, as I’d discovered last night, an impeccable lover. One who was gracious, yet unyielding. He wasn’t lazy or selfish. The traits I’d seen in his work at the Grove were the same ones he’d displayed in the bedroom.

  “I thought about it all night, and I’ve decided I’m going to Louisiana next weekend. I’m going to pay my father a visit,” said Jackson.

  “That’s fantastic, Jackson. You should.”

  “Will you go with me?”

  “Really? You want me to go?”

  “You were so sweet and so supportive last night,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”

  “Yes, I will go with you.”

  “Thank you.” He grabbed my chin and kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m hitting the shower. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes. You’re taking me on a tour of the island. I want to know everything about this place that you call home. And about you.” He grinned. “And don’t leave out any details. I want to know about the old boyfriends, too.”

  I laughed and watched as Jackson’s tight rear end exited the room.

  Chapter 13

  Jackson

  I sat on the passenger’s side of our rented vehicle as Jasmine breezed through the streets of Gregory Town, James Cistern and then Governor’s Harbour. She gave me the guided tour of the island, pointing out the significance of every pastel-colored structure along the way. The Haynes Library, a pink-and-white building adorned with turquoise hurricane shutters, I discovered, was one of the island’s historical landmarks. It was originally built in 1897 and refurbished in the nineties.

  “They have an internet café in there if you ever need to plug in your laptop,” said my beautiful tour guide. “It’s a great place to relax and chill. I avoided it like the plague when I was younger. Anything to do with reading, I wasn’t interested in.”

  “I would think a girl like you would love to read.”

  “No, you have me mistaken with my older sister, Alyson, or my younger sister, Whitney, who teaches little kids in Texas. I’m more interested in a great party than a great book.”

  “Did you want to go to college, or did you want to do something different like your brother Denny?”

  “I wanted to get away from home! Far away!”

  “Why did you choose Spelman?”

  “I chose Spelman because my brother Nate chose Morehouse and the two schools were close. I wanted to be near him. Nate and I are very close—only eighteen months apart. And I heard about the Greek step shows at Morehouse and how popular their homecoming was. And I heard that the parties were off the charts.”

  “Okay, so you weren’t interested in a quality education at all,” I teased.

  “I didn’t go there looking for a quality education, but I got one anyway.” She laughed.

  “Thank goodness! It’s why we aren’t allowed to make our own choices when we’re young and dumb.”

  “My first year of college was nearly impossible. I just barely passed my classes. I underestimated college. Thought if I made the right connections, I could breeze through it. It was that way all my life. My father a
lways had a friend around the corner or someone who would look out for me. Every one of my teachers here on the island was good friends with my dad, so school was a breeze,” she explained, “but I got a taste of real life very quickly. I almost dropped out.”

  “I was in my last year of law school when I dropped out of Harvard.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  Harvard was a hard subject to discuss. In fact, I’d never had the courage to bring it up to anyone before. I hid behind it for so many years, ashamed. But Jasmine was as easy as a summer’s breeze to talk to. She made me feel that I could say anything, and she never judged me.

  I told her everything, and she listened.

  “I held on to that anger for years, only recently letting go,” I told her. “It was something you said the other day that made me think about things differently.”

  “Something I said?”

  “Yeah. You said that sometimes the harshest judgment comes from those who love you the most. It made me really stop and think about things. I was handing out my own dose of harsh judgment to my mother. She didn’t deserve it. And when I saw her lying in that hospital bed, struggling to open her eyes after surgery, I felt like a total and complete jerk.”

  “The important thing is that you realized it, and you made your peace.”

  Either Jasmine was as philosophical as hell, or I was falling for her. Hard. I stared at her as she maneuvered through town. Her hair blew gently in the wind. She wore a sheer cover-up with a bikini underneath. She had to be the sexiest woman I’d seen in a long time—with a shapely body, toned arms and legs, solid abs and a set of perfectly sized breasts.

  “Where to next, Madam Tour Guide?”

  “A quick tour of my old neighborhood in Governor’s Harbour and then to Gregory Town. My cousin owns a surf shop there. We’re going to rent a board and go for a spin.”

  “Excuse me? A spin where?”

  “On the ocean, silly. We’re going surfing. Haven’t you ever done that before?”

  “Not...never...”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “You don’t understand. I don’t know how to surf. And it’s really not my thing.”

  “Where’s your audacity?” she asked. “If you’re going to hang out with Jasmine Talbot, you have to let go of those inhibitions.”

  “Inhibitions? Me?”

  “I’ve been told that you’re a workaholic, among other things.”

  “I see. So you’ve been inquiring about me.” I smiled a little at the thought.

  “Not really.”

  “Yes, really. It’s the only way you would know that I’m a workaholic...among other things.”

  “People talk. They offer unwarranted information sometimes.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

  She gave me a smile and continued to drive toward Governor’s Harbour. She pointed out every landmark and showed me where every one of her childhood friends grew up. She drove past her old elementary school and high school. I saw the park where she had her first kiss. Finally, she pulled up in front of an old yellow house with white trim. It desperately needed a paint job and the porch looked as if it might fall apart if the wind blew too hard.

  “Who lives here?” I asked.

  “It’s Darren Spencer’s old home. He was my high school sweetheart,” she said nonchalantly. “His cousins still live there. His father invested well in the hotel industry and moved his family to Miami several years ago. They have a huge presence in the hospitality industry, and they own a stream of hotels and restaurants all over the state of Florida and a few hotels in the Bahamas. Though they’ve accumulated all this wealth, they’re very modest people and they love the Bahamas.”

  “I see.” I was so jealous at that moment. I’d thought I wanted to know about every one of her former boyfriends, but the truth was I didn’t want to know about any of them. The thought of them touching her and doing the same things to her body that I’d just done unnerved me.

  “Darren attended college in the States, too. Studied economics. Now he manages a few of their hotels in Florida and the one in Nassau.”

  “I see.” They were the only words I could think of to say. The more details she shared about Darren, the less I wanted to hear about him.

  “We were supposed to both return here after college...get married, have babies. Blah, blah, blah,” she said. “Instead he broke my heart. So end of story.”

  “I see.” I said it again. I had no other words.

  “His parents never cared for me. They didn’t think I was good enough for their son. Called me promiscuous. But they couldn’t have been more wrong about me. I was completely devoted to their son. He was my first, and my last until after I graduated from Spelman. Sure, I liked to party, but promiscuous I was not. It was Darren who decided to sow his oats with every girl on his college campus.”

  “Hmm.”

  “So he went away and married a girl from the US. And now they’re divorcing.”

  I was relieved when she pulled away from the house. It took a few moments for me to regain my composure. I finally did as we drove down Queen’s Highway and eventually approached Surfer’s Beach.

  Jasmine’s cousin Steven helped me to choose the right board for a novice, and with nerves twisting my gut I followed Jasmine down to the shore. Confident and carefree, she went out to show me how it was done. She lay flat on her board, her stomach pressing against it while her arms paddled through the water. After a few moments of waiting for the perfect wave, she lifted her body up onto her knees and soon she was standing on the board and floating across the ocean. She looked like a pro. After warming up on a few more waves, she made her way back to shore to help me get started.

  I followed her lead and lay with my stomach flat on the board. I imitated Jasmine and paddled through the water with my arms. As soon as a wave rushed toward me, I lifted my body up and onto my knees. However, my attempt to stand up on the board failed, and I tumbled into the water with a huge splash. Jasmine laughed as I tried to regain my composure.

  “Take your time,” she said.

  Slowly I pressed my stomach against the board again, lifted up onto my knees, and this time I was able to stand up on the board. My legs shook and it took all I had just to maintain balance, but I stood. I wasn’t a pro, but I’d conquered the board.

  Afterward, we relaxed on beach towels—our backs against the warm, pink sand, our eyes staring into the blueness of the sky. We discussed our goals and shared our dreams with each other. I casually reached over and grabbed her hand, interlocked my fingers with hers. I could’ve remained that way forever. It felt good being with her, and the mood was perfect. It felt as if our hearts had connected.

  As the sun began to set, we returned our rental car and headed back to Harbour Island by ferry. Exhausted from our full day, we stopped at one of the local eateries for a quick bite to eat. A burger seemed more appealing than the native fare this time. Not that I didn’t enjoy a nice Bahamian meal. In fact, I’d become quite accustomed to it. However, at the moment I was in need of something that felt more like home. Jasmine, who was more health conscious than anyone I knew, and who avoided beef, ordered a bowl of fish stew. We both enjoyed a glass of wine.

  “I had fun today,” I told her as I took a bite of my burger.

  “Me too.” She leaned back in her chair, took a sip of her wine. “Thank you for letting me show you my home.”

  “I feel like I’ve known you all my life,” I told her. “You’re so easy to be with.”

  “I feel the same about you.”

  “I must confess, I didn’t feel that way about you in the beginning.” I laughed. “I a
ctually placed a call to Edward and told him he should have a word with you. I told him you were cramping my style.”

  “Really? The nerve of you!” She laughed heartily. “I almost made that same call.”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself the way you came in trying to run things.” I began to mock her. “The wood paneling stays... I want the rooms painted in bright colors... I need that old desk moved upstairs right this minute... I need an office that overlooks the ocean... I’m the princess...blah, blah, blah.”

  “I never said I was a princess!” she said.

  “You didn’t have to. You behaved like one.”

  She grabbed a French fry from my plate and tossed it at me. We laughed and talked the evening away. I wanted to spend the night with her again, but wasn’t quite sure of her intentions, so I avoided the subject. As the night drew near, we both knew that we couldn’t necessarily spend the evening at Ma Ruby’s burger joint. So we needed to figure something out.

  “Are you headed back to Governor’s Harbour tonight?” I asked.

  “No, I packed a weekend bag. I’ll be staying at the Grove another night,” she said. Heaviness filled her eyes. “And you?”

  “I would like to spend the night at the Grove, too.” There. I’d put it out there into the universe. “How would you feel about that?”

  “I would like that very much.”

  Her words eased the tension. My heart smiled.

  When we reached the Grove, we both dropped our shoes at the door, the hardwoods cold against my bare feet. She headed up the stairs and I grabbed her from behind. As I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist, I planted little kisses onto the back of her neck. I was immediately aroused. She turned to face me and my lips found hers. I sank my tongue deep inside her mouth and released her only long enough to pull her cover-up over her head. Then I was kissing her again. When I loosened her bikini top from around her neck, I nibbled on nipples that quickly became firm from my touch. I dipped my hand underneath the elastic of her bikini bottom and explored the goodness between her thighs. She squirmed from the tenderness of my touch, fueling my fire all the more. She moved up two steps, her bottom falling onto the wood of the staircase. I steadied myself above her and removed her bikini bottoms, then planted my fingers inside her warmth again as my lips consumed hers.