by Daya Daniels
She sighs and shifts in the sand, exhaling softly.
I give her a sidelong glance. “What do you see?”
“I see a bird.” She whispers, pointing up at one of the clouds that drift by.
“I see a rose.”
Her face twists in the most adorable expression, which makes me laugh.
“I’m kidding.” I admit, lifting a brow.
She laughs. “See, it’s a bird. A parrot, to be more specific.”
“I see it, Cass.” I agree, turning to my side, propping myself up on an elbow in the sand.
It’s just touched mid-afternoon and we’ve been here at least for an hour now, swimming and lying in the sun.
We visited St. Georges earlier in the morning and walked around for a while. Since meeting Cass, this truly was the only time I’d really ever gone sightseeing on the island. The tiny town of St. Georges is the island’s capital, which I already knew, which was settled in 1612 and was the first permanent English settlement on the island. St. Georges is declared as a World Heritage Site, Cass told me, which means it’s officially been recognized by the United Nations, specifically by UNESCO.
Cass took me to visit two friends of hers in St. Davids and the lighthouse there that wasn’t far from where they lived.
The feeling of her arms around my waist as we navigated the windy roads on the motorcyle, only confirmed how much she belonged to me, how much I wanted her with me.
Somehow we ended up at Spittal Pond Nature in the morning, which is the largest wildlife sanctuary on the island. She dragged me along a rocky, grassy path, revealing Spanish Rock, which she told me had recently been renamed Portuguese Rock. The letters R and P are engraved on the rock, next to a cross and dated 1543. The original rock piece was taken out and has been replaced by a bronze plaque now. Spanish Rock is believed to be the earliest human remnant in Bermuda. The engravements were first discovered by English colonists who determined that the markings came from Spanish shipwrecked sailors, so they named it Spanish Rock. Later, a Portuguese historian had evidence from a chronicled voyage in 1545 A.D that Portugese sailors were actually shipwrecked and claimed that the letters R and P were Latin for Regium Portugese, which means The Kingdom of Portgual in English, so the rock was renamed Portuguese Rock.
Cass is quite the historian. She knows so much about the island’s history. She took photographs of all the nature around us and of me, mostly. Her hand touches my cheek, bringing me back to the present.
The beach is empty around us, except for a couple to our far right, doing exactly the same as us, basking in the sun on the sand, enjoying the cool water. I clutch Cass’ hand in mine and kiss it, allowing my eyes to rove hungrily over her tanned skin and the skimpy yellow bathing suit she wears. She giggles, just when another wave washes over us, covering us in sand and salt suds. A shriek leaves her mouth and she shoots up to her feet. I laugh at the sight and pull her back down into my lap. Her face is covered in pink sand and her wet hair sticks to her face. It’s quiet for a moment, while I stare down into her beautiful face. She heaves for breath, wrapped in my arms. A breeze washes over us that prickles her skin, causing it to erupt in goosebumps. I caress them away and pull her to my chest. I meet her brown eyes and smile.
“Let’s go in the water.” I suggest.
“We’re in the water!”
“Ambrose sold his boat.” I whisper against her temple. “I have to move out.”
She frowns. “I’m going to miss it.”
I had so many memories on Ambrose’s old boat but the vessel had seen better days. Even I could admit that. The exterior of it is a monstrosity but the hull of the old boat is in immaculate shape – the credit went to master craftmanship on the part of Ambrose’s father and uncle when they buit the wooden craft fifty years ago. Reel Talk was never in danger of coming apart or sinking. The mechanicals on the other hand were a different animal entirely.
“Me too. In a few weeks, I’ll need to move out.”
“Wherever you decide, I’m with you.” Her words are spoken firmly with a nod.
I laugh and pull her against my chest. Pushing up from the sand, I hold her tight and head towards the water. I clutch her small body to my chest, fighting each rough wave until we reach a depth that puts the water to my shoulders. Cass shifts and wraps her legs around my waist.
“I need you right here with me.” She affirms against my lips, with her salty ones.
“I am, Cass. I am. We should head home.”
“Yeah, definitely.” She whispers with heavy lids.
It’s no secret to Cass that I want to fuck. I need to fuck this woman and I already had, numerous times but no matter what, I still wanted more. It was never enough when I was with her that way. I wanted to bury myself deep inside of her and die. Not literally, but hopefully you get the gist of what I’m saying. This woman is my everything.
“I’d rather be on that old boat with you than anywhere else in the world.” She whispers into the crook of my neck.
I only groan at her honeyed words, allowing them to be etched permanently in my brain and across my heart, leaving an indelible scar.
Then, I lose myself in her greedy kiss.
Cassandra
Everything about tonight was romantic. Nico had made dinner when we came back from the beach. It was a spectacular dish of grilled wahoo accompanied by a lemon butter sauce and rice. We drank wine. We shared a spliff and now I’m beneath him, a hot sticky mess with tangled hair and legs spread so wide, you’d think I’m boneless.
Open by Rhye sounds from the tiny radio in the corner of the room.
Nico stills deep inside of me and pressed a kiss to my lips that’s soft at first. It then turns desperate and hungry. He moves slowly, forcing moans from my mouth. I run my hands through his thick hair and laugh. His eyes flash, right before he pushes up on his arms and stares down at me. His lids are heavy and his chest is covered in sweat. He moves slow burying himself deeper inside of me. My insides clench and throb around him. My whimpers fill the air, mixing with his strangled groans and I’m dying to come.
“That’s it, Cass.” He murmurs, picking up speed, blasting all of his weight into me.
I dig my fingers into his forearms, unable to control the sounds coming from my mouth. Nico dives down, taking my top lip in his moving hard against my body, allowing me to feel just an inkling of how strong he is. I scream into his mouth, coming, each throb and clench of my pussy around him elicits and series of ugly whines from my mouth. When my cries subside, he pulls out of me and drops his heavy dick on my stomach and comes, soaking my hot skin with every harsh jerk the monster makes in front of me, expelling a milky mess.
“Cass.” He sighs, while his beautiful features twist in pleasure.
Nico flips me onto my stomach, ignoring my startled yelp. He pulls me up to my knees and spreads my ass, gripping into the skin on my cheeks. I whimper and spread my palm against the sheets and rock into the feeling of his thick fingers massaging my slit. He spits and hisses something I can’t fully make out in my post-orgasmic daze. I jolt forward, nearly slamming my head into the wall in front of me when his lips suckle on my asshole, with a loud slurp. I wriggle but before I can get away, a slap is delivered to my meaty cheek, the crack of it cutting through the silence like a sharp blade that leaves my skin feeling sliced and burned.
Another strike.
I’m vaulted forward. I place a jittery hand on the wall to steady myself. Nico’s palm makes contact with my skin again, accompanied by a soothing rub after.
Another strike.
Another rub.
Another suckle of his wet mouth on my asshole, that in all his ministrations seems to be relaxing.
My face twists and a desperate cry leaves my mouth, when it sinks in that this is a planned attack.
Motherfucker.
Nico’s hand steadies my ass that’s on fire but for some reason I fucking love it. He slips his fingers into my slit, fucking it hard massaging my clit and before I e
ven realize what’s happening I’m coming again, nearly unable to stay up on my knees. I’m a blubbering, whimpering disaster.
“If you think you’re messy now, Cass – just wait until I’m done.” He hisses.
He wraps his hands in my hair, each strand tingling my scalp. When my neck jerks back, tears fall from my eyes but I don’t want him to stop. In this wine-induced, horny-as-fucks moment, I’m a sweaty, orgasmic heap. The sound of him spitting again fills my ears. When I feel the hot head of his cock as it slides into my tight passage, I scream.
“Shhh, Cass.” He coos, running his fingers over my back that’s arched so much, I think I’ve broken my spine.
I settle when his fingers venture down to massage my clit.
“Always so fucking wet for me, pretty girl.” Nico hisses with a voice that’s laced with so much desire I fear I may drown in his cum tonight.
A strange sounds leaves his mouth, like he’s savoring a delicious dish. I tear into the sheets beneath me with my fingers, shivering, mewling, saying things I don’t understand. Nico moves slow at first and then settles into a punishing rhythm that has me screaming, each time he slams into me pushing his big cock deeper into my asshole. I massage my clit feverishly, like an addict desperate to have her fix. He vaults me forward with his weight, plunging into the tight hole like he’s trying to demolish it, destroy me, making me his in the most unspeakable way and I love it.
An ugly moan leaves my mouth and before I know it, I’m coming again and so is he. A primal sound spills from his lips and then a succession of grunts that cause me to break out into a cold sweat, follow behind it. He steadies me beneath him in a vise-like grip, allowing me to feel every throb his cock makes in my asshole, as he floods it with cum.
He wraps a steadying arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest, his cock still lodged deep inside me. I’m covered in sweat and the tears that dribble down my cheeks have only just become apparent to me.
“You’re made for me, Cass.” He breathes into my hair, nudging me to glance over my shoulder. When I do, he places a punishing kiss to my lips and keeps my gaze as he slips out of me, slowly.
He spins me around and we remain on our knees in the center of the bed, staring at each other under the moonlight. He pulls me into his arms, against his chest back down into the bed. I just rest, waiting for my breathing and my heart rate to return to normal. He traces his thick fingers in a line between my breasts, keeping his eyes on me. He swipes away my tears with his knuckle and puts his forehead to mine.
“Eu te amo. I love you, Cass.”
“I love you too.” I sniffle.
“Dormir. Sleep.” He instructs.
So, I do.
Cassandra
This is my last free day. Tomorrow is the start of the qualifiers and I’m busier than ever. All of the photos that I’d taken so far were loved. I think I may even have impressed myself. My website is up and running and I’ve been booked for two jobs for the end of the year. I’ve even had a request for some offshore work and portrait sessions. It seems like things are coming together for me, even though it’s happening slowly. Lately, most of my days are spent getting soaked in a boat or hanging from a helicopter taking shots, as it moves over the island. I love everything about what I’m doing and there isn’t a day I awake, when I don’t want more – when I don’tt want to do it again – when I’m not in love with everything about my job.
Nico suggested I stay at home tonight, since Ambrose’s boat was being pulled up later from the harbor for the buyer. I nearly cried this morning when I stepped off it, knowing I’d miss it so much. We’d find time to spend together in the afternoon when I was free tomorrow. I scrambled around this morning running errands and doing little things. Checking my phone for nearly the thirtieth time this morning, I shove it in my pocket and head out of the store, back into the heat.
“Cass.” A woman’s voice calls out from behind me.
I spin around after leaving the A.S. Cooper & Sons, Ltd men’s store along from street, with a few bags in hand. Hamilton is full of people on this hot Monday afternoon. A head of black curly hair heads towards me and the woman’s blue eyes flash, right before she pulls me into a rib-shattering hug.
“Cass.” She repeats, backing up to look at me.
I eye over her navy blue summer pantsuit and my own attire - a tank top, shorts and canvas sneakers, complete with a white hat and massive sunglasses.
“Zoey.”
“You – you look amazing. Oh, my God. You look like you’ve been living on the beach!” She laughs, running her fingers through my sun-bleached hair.
I wring my hands self-consciously in front of her and look around, wondering if the rest of them are nearby.
“You look, ah.”
“Like a raggamuffin?”
“No!” She shouts, her cheeks turning pink. “No, you just look so different. So natural. So relaxed. I’m jealous.” She mumbles.
We dip out of the way of people walking by on the sidewalk. Zoey throws an arm around my shoulder and we head down the length of Front Street, passing the infamous Birdcage on the way.
“I’ve only been back for a few days – new job.” She says with a smile. “But I guess you knew that already.” She bites her lip and drops her head to the side walk. “Did Stefan tell you?”
“A little.” I mumble.
The news that the duo had started their own law firm was of no surprise to me. I tried my best not to think about it.
“I know it’s weird but Rupert is one of the best barristers I know. So is Stefan.”
I only nod, not feeling even a little bad for Zoey’s discomfort. She’s now working for a law firm that should be called Asshole & Asshole Associates.
“It’s okay, Zoey.”
She freezes in place and squints under the sun. A loud sigh escapes her throat. “I just don’t want things to be weird.”
“You have to make a living.”
“I wanted to come back here so bad. Rupert did too, which surprised me.”
I lift a brow in her direction as we continue to walk.
“Have you seen him?” She questions.
“Nope.”
“Oh.” She pulls on her sunglasses. “So how is the freelance photography going?”
“I actually got a job during the America’s Cup.”
Zoey’s face brightens. “Cass, that’s fucking amazing!”
“I know.” I nod, clutching my shopping bags.
Zoey eyes them curiously, spotting a package of Calvin Klein briefs in one. “You gotta man, girlll?” She asks playfully.
“Something like that.”
She hums and looks me over. “I guess it explains the rosey cheeks.”
I laugh as we stop again when her phone rings. Zoey rattles off a few things about a meeting being rescheduled and hangs up with a huff. A young woman rushes towards her, holding a hot coffee in her hand and what I presume is Zoey’s briefcase. I stand and stare at the interaction between established barrister and eager law pupil with amusement. The poor girl that couldn’t be more than twenty-one, is covered in sweat and holding at least twenty pounds worth of files filled with paper tucked under her spaghetti arm, while she rolls a suitcase behind her full of crap in the blazing eighty degree humidity and one hundred degree heat.
Well, fuck me sideways with a blowtorch.
“I’m sorry, Cass.” Zoeys says in a soft voice, as I eye physical the abuse going on in front of me with a pained expression. “I have to go but we should catch up sometime, coffee or whatever. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” I whisper, giving her a smile.
Zoey out of everyone is the only friend I have that didn’t seemingly abandon me when I left the law profession. She’s down to earth and honest and a bestie of mine. From what I knew over the years, she didn’t exactly like Rupert very much either but she respected him.
She gives me a wave as her and the tortured law pupil make their way down the sidewalk. A ding on my
phone catches my attention. I shift the bags in my hand to check the message.
Nico: Where are you, pretty girl? I want to take you to lunch.
Quickly, I reply confirming my whereabouts and suggest a takeout spot a few minutes away on St. Monica’s Road in North Shore Village called Art Mel’s Spicey Dicey, which serves the best fried fish sandwiches.
Nico: Okay, grab a coffee or something to burn time. I’ll be there in 15 minutes to kiss your lips, only not sure which ones to start with first...
A huge grin spreads across my face and my cheeks burn at his innuendo. I wipe the sweat from my face and reply with a red smiley face. I stare up at the clear blue sky and then drop my gaze to all the traffic meandering through Front Street. The city of Hamilton is full of locals and tourists alike and a few cruise ships are docked across the street at the wharf.
I text Nico the location of my favorite coffee shop, Dangelini’s and head off in its direction.
Cassandra
It’s late in the evening. After I had coffee with Nico earlier this afternoon, we had a bite to eat in Barr’s Bay Park, nearby the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club and then I caught the ferry back home. It had only been a few hours since I last saw him but I already missed him. I stare out the window that has a view of the Watforf Bridge, realizing how ridiculous that seems. I’m so in love, it’s coming out of my ears. Picking up my phone that’s been quiet most of the day since I left him, I tap off a message.
Me: Did you find a place?
Nico: Yeah, I’m good. I can’t wait for you to see it.
Me: Okay. I’m glad. I miss you.
Nico: I will see you tomorrow after I get settled in but I’ll call tonight.
Me: I love you.
Nico: I love you more, pretty girl.
I laugh at the moniker, he always seemed to call me now. Taking a deep breath, I press the phone to the center of my chest and push up from the my tiny twin bed to my feet. The house is filled with the scent of meat roasting and the lingering aroma of rosemary. Heading down the hallway, I find my my mother in the kitchen with her head somewhat submerged in the oven.