Return to Cancún

by Lena Malick

  He pounded into her, overcome with lust. He suddenly paused for a moment, as if realizing he was being too rough. She grabbed his hair and pulled him close. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard,” she said in his ear.

  That drove him insane. He thrust into her in long, deep strokes. He pushed into her so hard she was sliding backward on the floor, her head getting pinned against the couch. His shirt hung above her. She reached up and grabbed it, yanking hard. The remaining buttons popped off as she tore it off and wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers into him.

  “Harder,” she said.

  He made animal-like grunts and gasps as he pushed. His hand at the back of her head grabbed a fist full of her hair. Fully leveraged on her, she felt the full force of his physical strength with each thrust.

  “Harder,” she said again.

  She was completely overwhelmed by the power of his pure, masculine force. Usually shy about making too much noise, she yelled out as he drove into her. She pulled her legs higher and reached down, grabbing his ass. Pounding deeper, he arched back. The glistening muscles on his chest and shoulders bulging with strain. Finally, he let out a long, whaling cry as he orgasmed, his cock shooting deep inside her in powerful blasts.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning was a mad scramble. Nik had spent the previous evening going over everything with Carmine, Allan and Red. Everything was set—except for a way to get to the airport.

  It finally stopped raining during the night, but the road out was too muddy to pass. No way a cab would try. They had an old truck they used to pick up supplies in town, but it would never make it through the mud.

  “The boat,” Nik said, pacing in the living room.

  “No, man,” Carmine said. “Have you seen the waves coming in? You can’t swim to shore from the boat when it’s like this.”

  “The motorcycle,” Nik said.

  “Nah. How are you going to get it back?”

  “We could leave it there, and you get it with the truck, later, after the road dries up.”

  Carmine shook his head. “I could get it, but there’s no way you could make it through the mud with both of you on the bike.”

  Nik glanced at Terra, then went back to pacing. Carmine stared at the floor. They didn’t have much more time.

  “Yes, we could,” Terra said. They both looked at her. “We could do it.” She looked at Nik. “I’ve ridden with you before. I remember what you taught me… crouch on the pegs, lean when you lean…” She stood up. “We could do it,” she said firmly.

  Carmine shook his head. Nik pursed his lips, unsure. “No. Nik, you’re a good rider, but you two would end up in the mud a half dozen times before making it to the main road,” Carmine said.

  “So?” Terra said. “I don’t care. We can do it, I know we can.” She was determined now. And she knew she was right. But she also knew they were concerned that she didn’t know what she was getting into.

  They didn’t end up in the mud a half dozen times, but they did drop the bike twice. Luckily, Terra had stuffed her shoulder bag in her backpack and wrapped the whole thing in plastic.

  It was brutally hard. She knew it’d be messy, but she wasn’t as prepared for the physical exertion. The road was so washed out there were times she couldn’t even tell if they were still on it. They had to ride crouched over the bike as Nik maneuvered through the muddy terrain. Her legs were burning before they were even half way to the main road, but somehow they made it. When they came up over the last embankment and up onto the paved road, it felt like they’d just been birthed from middle earth.

  Terra wasn’t sure what Nik was doing when he pulled the bike off the main road, near a farm. He got off the bike and motioned her over. There was an irrigation hose. He turned it on and they washed all the mud off each other and cleaned off the bike. Back on the road, Nik opened it up. Terra could feel the warm air drying her as they zipped along.

  As they road up the coast, Terra looked out at the Pacific Ocean. A source of strength, she thought. The world seemed cleansed by the rains. Long streaks of sunlight slashed through the high clouds, lighting the ocean surface in majestic, shimmering sections. Terra had a feeling, both comforting and scary, that maybe she belonged here. Maybe…

  She took a deep breath and nested the side of her face against the back of Nik’s neck, her arms wrapped around his chest. The wind blew Nik’s hair back. She looked up and could see the side of his face. As she squeezed her arms tighter, she saw his cheek stretch up, and knew he was smiling.

  #

  A preview of the third and final part of the Cancún Series, Cancún Wedding

  The ocean seemed to go on forever. Terra lifted the window visor and squinted, looking across the vast blue, trying to find the horizon. They went through a cloud and suddenly her view was engulfed in white, as if a pillowcase had been pulled over the plane.

  Vicky settled back into her seat. “Those bathrooms are made for little people. I swear they make planes smaller and smaller these days,” she said, buckling back up. “I had to pass the food cart on the way back up the isle. There’s no room. I had to practically crawl on some guys lap to let the cart pass. Not that I’m complaining. And all the stewardesses are thin as sticks. You notice that? You do not see no fat stewardess these days. Maybe I should apply for a job, have them turn me down, then sue their asses.”

  Vicky had lost over twenty pounds in preparation for Terra’s wedding, and was forever fishing for acknowledgement. She did look great, trimming down but managing to keep her curves.

  “Stop it, Vik. You couldn’t sue because they’d hire you. You’re one of them now, thin as a stick.”

  “Now, I don’t know about that. Lost some of them extra LBs, but I ain’t no stick,” she said, satisfied. Vicky had fretted more about the wedding than Terra had, far exceeding her role of Maid of Honor and becoming downright maternal in her devotion to every detail. She seemed to know that Terra would miss her mother now more than ever, and was quietly filling the role where she could. Terra was more grateful than she could ever express.

  The stewardess pulled the cart up and leaned over them. “Chicken piccata or vegetarian lasagna?” she asked with the kind of plastered on smile that you knew would disappear if you failed to answer promptly.

  “I’ll brave the chicken,” Vicky said. The stewardess looked at Terra, her eyebrows lifting higher than seemed possible. “Nothing for me,” Terra said.

  “She’ll have the lasagna,” Vicky said. “And two margaritas.” The frozen smile nearly cracked. “Just kidding, love. But we’ll have a couple of those cute little bottles of chardonnay.”

  Vicky ate while Terra pushed her food around and sipped wine. Vicky was going on and on about the details of the wedding. It had become something of a nervous habit. It was the same stuff Terra had heard a number of times before, but it was her job to nod and say “uh huh” in the right places.

  “It will be great having all the men in loose khaki suits and barefoot. I mean if you’re getting married on the beach, what’s the point of shoes? Casual but classy,” she said, now on autopilot.

  “Uh huh.”

  “And I’m just taking your word for it that this guy Soren is good enough to take pictures. I know you said he’s an amateur photographer, but I have my doubts. He’s the lady killer you told me about, right?”

  “Umm.”

  “So he’s got other priorities. Not a good sign.”

  Terra began to drift off. Everything seemed to be moving both fast and slow at the same time. She found herself needing to mentally go back and relive many of the things that had happened in the last year, afraid that if she didn’t they would be lost forever. She wanted to bottle all the precious moments, least they fade away like footprints at low tide. It was usually the memory of Nik’s voice that would trigger it. As Vicky went on and on, now talking about their backup plan in case it rained, Terra could hear Nik’s voice saying, “Terra, this is my mother, Maia.” It was almost exactly one yea
r ago, she realized.

  They had taken a taxi from the airport to Nik’s parents house in Voula, a wealthy area on the coast, south of Athens, Greece. By the time they arrived, Terra felt like a walking disaster—dirty, tired, and nervous. The last shower she had was from an irrigation hose on the side of the road back in Cancun. The house—palace was more like it—was not at all what she expected. Nik talked about his family, but never mentioned anything about them being rich.

  The house was spread out over the side of a hill, overlooking the Aegean Sea. The cab dropped them off on the wide circular driveway that arched across the front. When Terra got out, she turned in a circle, mouth agape. The house, made of whitewashed stone, was three stories high. The manicured grounds it sat on were as large as a college campus. Terra stood, squinting in the sunlight, stunned.

  “Your parents live here?” she asked. It never even occurred to her that Nik came from a wealthy family. As far as she knew, the only things he owned were books, diving equipment, and a motorcycle.

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling her backpack from the trunk of the cab. “This is the house I grew up in.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the front door. The door mysteriously opened for them, revealing a servant dressed in a black kimono, who greeted Nik with a formal nod. “Nikolaos,” he said.

  Inside, the entry way was white marble, with a wide, sweeping staircase that curved gracefully up, disappearing into the floor above. The ceiling was so high it reminded Terra of a museum. Beyond the entry was a large archway that led to a wide, sunken living room area with plush white carpet. Terra could see a high wall of windows beyond that overlooked the ocean.

  Just coming in from the bright sunlight, Terra’s eyes took a moment to adjust. There was someone standing in the archway. A figure. Tall and elegant, in a blue and gold wrap dress. She began to come into focus.

  Nik took Terra by the arm and guided her closer to the figure, her tennis shoes squeaking on the marble floor. She felt so dirty from their traveling she thought she might be leaving a trail. Her hair was a mess and she still had traces of mud on her from their long trip out of Cancun, which now felt like a world away.

  Feeling like road kill, Terra looked at the still figure and tried to compose herself. The statuesque woman had steely green eyes and ink black hair. She looked at Terra like she was something that needed to be disposed of as quickly as possible.

  “Terra, this is my mother, Maia,” Nik said…

  #