by Blue Davis
“What are you doing in Cuba? Oh wait, let me guess. You went all the way down there just to play golf.”
“Best course in the Western Hemisphere. Some people love the Oak Club, but I prefer the Del Ray. Less windy and the greens—”
“James.” She interjected.
“Yep?”
“I don’t care.”
“I know. I just…” He realized he was babbling out of control. He pulled in a shallow breath. It was rare, but he was nervous. “Lexi, Haiti’s dangerous. There’s crime, there’s a massive underworld. Did you know there’s modern-day pirates out there?”
“We’ll be fine. We’ll only be there long enough to get the boat. After that, we’re off to a secluded island where we’ll score the treasure.”
His breathing grew heavier to match the throbbing manhood below his belt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than on a secluded island with you,” he murmured.
“Hold up. This isn’t one of your reckless nights in Vegas. This is a hunt. Can you put your wild and crazy man habits aside and help me find the coins?”
She was probably referring to his party reputation, most of which was way overblown. He crossed his legs and shifted in his seat. “Who told you about the coins, anyway? How did you get the map?”
“You’re on the need-to-know basis, James.”
“What? So I have to leave the comfort and safety of five-star resort, and risk my life with a bunch of creepy, real-life pirates, but your lips are sealed?” He waited for a response.
“I’ll tell you in due time, James. You coming?”
“Okay.” He paused. “I’ll come.”
“Yes! Yay!” She giggled. She was so fucking cute.
And soon he would examine her sweet ass sticking out in the air as she worked herself into a hot sweat looking for that treasure. He would be right there, willing and ready to stick his cock straight into her soft, warm mound.
“When will you be here?”
His feet flew to the floor. He stood up and straightened his dick before he continued to his suite. Nobody needed to see his raging hard-on. “I’ll call Carlos and have him get the plane ready. I’ll be there soon.”
“Good. I have everything—map, GPS, shovel. Meet me at the Cafe Bonne Terre.”
“All right, babe.” It slipped out of his mouth before he could control it.
“James?”
“Yep?”
“I’m not your babe.”
He smiled and hung up the phone. You will be soon. He pulled his bent forearm alongside his ribcage and clenched his fist. “Yes!” Heat charged through his veins.
He called the flight crew and zipped up the stairs to pack his clothing.
“So you’re really going, just like that, huh?” Zack stood in front of him with his arms crossed. “The things we do for women.” He shook his head.
James grew serious. He wasn’t doing that much for her. He wanted to quell his rigid rod, and this was the only way he knew how. As soon as he got his dick wet he’d be right back in Cuba, swinging the golf club again. “I’m not doing this for any woman. Treasure hunting is fun. I mean, when else am I gonna get the opportunity to look for a chest of old treasure?”
“Arrrr,” Zack joked, mimicking a pirate. He laughed and rubbed his eyes.
“That’s right. Arrrr it is, bro,” James said, raising one eyebrow.
James packed a shoulder bag and smoothed his unruly blond locks in the mirror. Give her two hours around me and she won’t be able to resist. “She won’t want to resist,” he mumbled to himself as he backed out of the bathroom.
Zack grew serious. “Okay, bro. Take care of yourself and call me if there is anything. I’ll see you back in Florida.”
“But I’ll be back in a few days. Meet here?”
“No.”
James shrugged with one shoulder. “Why? There’s plenty of hot chicas floating around here. Stay. The suite’s yours.”
“Suite’s always mine, but I don’t have time for that. I need to get back to work. Have a good time, man. And I want my cut of that pirate’s booty when you return,” he said, hitting him on the shoulder.
“All right, deal, man. Whatever.”
They gave each other a quick “man’s embrace” and James headed out the door and out into the hot Cuban heat. Who knows? Maybe I come back with the old Black Caesar’s gold. Does Black Caesar exist or is she making this shit up? He pulled out his phone and pushed through to a Google page.
The phone rang while sitting in his hands. His eyes narrowed on the contact name. Sheila. Fuck. She called at all the wrong times. He would need to deal with Sheila at some point, but now wasn’t time. He headed to his waiting limousine and hit the call reject button.
Chapter 3
Lexi
She relaxed her shoulders and sat in a chair outside in the open-air cafe. Thank god he was coming. She was tired of fending for herself in the city, always watching her pack and making sure she was out of danger. She was fine in her own town, but this place was rougher than she thought.
Her watch read 7:07. Her stomach churned. Is he coming or did he change his mind?
Haitians plundered through the street, catching dinner, buying groceries. But no James. He would stand out, his white skin and blond hair would surely illuminate in the darkness.
A handful of people sat inside the cafe—a few foreigners, possibly even Americans. They took sips of their drinks and indulged in the Haitian fare.
Her own table was bare. The waiter stood directly in front of her, blocking the view. She peeked around him for a possible glimpse of James.
The server cleared his throat, then raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure you would not like to order anything while you are waiting for your friend?”
“Uh… I’m not… uh… would you mind bringing me a glass of fruit juice?” Her shoulders tensed. “Please. Thank you,” she added.
“What kind of fruit juice would you like? We have orange, pineapple.” He paused. “Apple…”
James would call if there was some kind of trouble and he wasn’t coming, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be so crass to leave her sitting at a restaurant for hours, would he? The street behind the waiter was still full of people. Had she missed him while the server was standing there?
“Orange,” she blurted out. She smiled through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m a little stressed.” She made a mental note to give the waiter a good tip for having to deal with her edginess.
The server scribbled on a notepad. “Thank you. I will bring it right out,” he announced.
“Thank you so much,” she replied through a forced smile. She drew in a breath. She didn’t want to draw unneeded attention to herself, but what were her alternatives if James didn’t show? Go back to the port and beg until someone took pity on her and welcomed her on their boat? She was willing to do anything at this point--cook, clean, gut fish. Whatever. I need to get to that island.
Three young men approached the restaurant. Weren’t these the same callous thugs that had stolen her necklace last night?
She gulped a scream and buried her trembling hands under the tablecloth.
Townsfolk scattered out their path as they approached the tables.
Their ambitious faces looked as though they had been in a hundred fights and still wanted more. Their eyes wavered through the tourists at the restaurant. They focused on an older white couple sitting at a small round table in front. They apprehended the couple and shouted a few hostile words to the gray-haired senior.
The man’s wife placed her hand on her shiny gold necklace and gasped. The dismayed husband stood up and frowned at the younger man. He narrowed scornful eyes onto the leader of the pack and opened his mouth.
The leader smacked him back down to his seat before the man made a sound.
The senior’s eyes widened as he gripped the sides of his chair. He straightened his glasses with a shaking hand.
The thug rocked his head back in laughter at the old man’
s reaction.
The two men next to him snatched the necklace from his wife’s neck.
A scowl spread across her face as she rubbed her neck. She fell back into her chair and fanned herself, her eyes plagued with fear.
They picked up her purse and dumped the contents on the table. One scooped up a wallet and stashed it in his backpack.
The wife shielded her eyes as if blocking the view would somehow help her survive the attack. The old man yelled at the three hoodlums, pointing his finger.
The leader of the men ignored him and glanced around at the remaining disgusted diners at the restaurant.
Lexi’s body became rigid as she stared at the table, poker-faced. Don’t look over here.
She turned her focus onto a dirty, striped umbrella shade of one of the vendors and projected positive outcomes. Her mind envisioned on their retreat while her gut screamed.
The leader of the pack looked her way. He saw her. He stiffened his stance and headed toward her.
She drew in a breath and shoved down a lump in her throat. Her heart beat faster as the man positioned himself in front of her, where the waiter had stood a few moments ago.
His sandals appeared worn, his feet dirty and scaly. He said something.
He spoke loud in his dialect with undertones of sexual flattery.
She peeked at his missing teeth and lowered her eyes back down to the table. Why were they bothering her again? They had already taken her necklace. How much more did they think she had?
His friends now came and positioned themselves next to him. The guy on the right had a loose eyeball that caused him to be cock-eyed. His lips were thick, his skin mocha colored. The thug on the left was tall, dark, and skinny. All three carried holstered knives at their sides.
Her stomach churned as her heart pounded raced.
They sped up their crazy dialogue, each making animated gestures at the other. Were they arguing or were they speaking normally to each other? Their eyes looked incoherent.
Anybody home?
The one in the middle stopped bickering and glared at her. He smiled, his eyes darting to her chest. “How are you?” His thick accent sounded low and strained.
What the hell do they want? My wallet or to chat?
She focused on the umbrella shade again. If I don’t see them, they will go away, she resolved. She felt like the old woman who’d shielded her eyes.
They didn’t go away.
His chest enlarged from his heavy breathing. He spoke louder and higher. “How are you?”
Lexi focused on the umbrella hard and swallowed. Should I speak to them or not? A chill vibrated her arms. She straightened her back. “I—”
“She’s fine,” a deep voice announced from the back. An American deep voice.
The men swirled around, their veined arms bulging, hands on their knife holsters.
James appeared in the crease between two of the men. His bronzed smooth face spoke loose foreign words to the men.
Hormones rippled through her body, mixing arousal into her pool of excitement and fear. Her forehead developed beads of sweat as she studied his chiseled, square jaw. It was the strangest reaction. Why was she excited and aroused? Shouldn’t she be fearing for her life? Tension drained from her shoulders. Her mind raced to relay a message of ‘you don’t want to fuck with us’ to the men. She tossed her hair back and lifted her chin.
“James. There you are.” She plastered a confident smile to her cheekbones.
James spoke to the men in their own language. His dirty blond locks fell loosely over his ears. His brawny, well-chiseled body showed through his blue slim-fitting t-shirt. Was it her imagination, or was he much bigger than she last had seen him? He relaxed his broad shoulders and rattled off a few more Creole words.
She stretched her head to listen, but she couldn’t make out a single word.
His sensual, alluring lips barely moved when he spoke. He pursed his sultry lips and patted his upper jacket pocket. He motioned to her and gave a half-shrug.
Their glares darted from her to James. The leader’s eyes widened as he backed away. He turned and threw the elderly woman’s wallet and necklace on her table and jetted to the sidewalk. The others followed.
The restaurant crowd erupted into a wave of applause.
James curled his lips upward and bowed to his audience.
She relaxed her shoulders. What the heck did he say to them?
The hooligans continued into the market until they blended in with the crowd.
“What did you say to them?”
James tipped his hat. His succulent lips pursed into a silent whistle. “Sexy Lexi. Nice to see you again.”
Her stomach fluttered. Relax. He looked even hotter than the last time she had seen him. Did he not age? Like… at all? Ever? She fought to control her gaping mouth. “Hi James.”
He pulled out a chair. “Sorry I’m late. Things got a little hectic with the ride over here. I didn’t bring my Haiti clothes.” He raised his arms up and glanced down at his pressed v-neck and dinner coat. He shifted his focus to her.
“Oh yeah. You kinda have to play it down here. I only brought this green tank top and a couple other shirts. The locals pick up on who has money and who doesn’t.” She pulled the blouse around her shoulders tighter to make sure her unsightly scars were covered. James’ skin was as smooth as a fiberglass mannequin compared to hers.
“Yeah. Well, I know. I wasn’t aware I was coming here, Lexi.” He tilted his head and smiled with one corner of his mouth. He lowered his gaze to her shoulders. “You look amazing.”
A flush of heat rose to her face. “Thank you.” Is he avoiding my question? “Now tell me. What did you say to them?”
He thumbed behind himself. “That? I advised them to return everything they’d stolen. I also told them you’re my woman, and that I was carrying.”
“And are you?”
His eyes glimmered. “Am I what? Your man?”
Her heart fluttered. She shook it off and lifted her chin. She was in no position to entertain any thoughts of a fling with him. James was a player at best. Look how fast he was to flirt, even when her life had just been threatened. His woman? That’s interesting, because they barely ever saw each other. It was pure business phone calls to ask a quick question about a contact, or a schedule. They even called each other to do a little rubbing in the other’s face when one of them had found something the other was looking for. They were competitors, rivals, maybe even enemies. They weren’t even friends, and now she was his woman? No, no, and no. Absolutely not. She shook her head. “No. I mean, are you carrying?” Bringing a gun along might not be such a bad idea.
“Should I be?” He glanced around the restaurant.
The waiter approached.
“Sorry about that, my friends. They come to bother the guests, but they do not mean harm. They only want money. It’s always about money, but they are not willing to work,” he apologized, shaking his head. “Now, what can I get for you, sir?”
“Scotch, neat.” He motioned to her. “Are you getting anything?”
She shook her head. “Just the fruit juice.”
“Thank you, sir,” the waiter walked away.
“To answer your question, no, I don’t bring my beloved .44 Mag around on vacation. She’s sitting at home, comfy and properly encased.”
“It’s only a quick trip. No need for it anyway.”
“Better be,” he jested.
It wasn’t funny. She took her work seriously. “It will be. I know exactly where the stash is. It’s only a matter of getting there.”
He stared at her and she returned the hard glare, not allowing her eyes to pivot away from his. If this is showdown, I’m in.
“So this Black Caesar guy. I looked him up. Turns out he’s real.”
She scoffed. “Why wouldn’t he be real?”
“Oh you know, just the whole pirate thing,” he rubbed his chin.
She sat back in her seat, never breaking
her gaze. “They existed, James,” she said, her eyes rolling.
“Oh, no doubt they existed. It’s that uh… I’ve never heard of this guy.”
“Told you on the phone. He’s black, so no one cares.”
He raised his palms. “Yeah, I know, I know.”
The waiter brought the drink out.
“Thank you,” James said to the man.
“Anything else?”
James shook his head while watching her.
The server walked away.
Heat from her nostrils pooled onto her upper lip. She leaned in to him and put her elbows on the table. She kept her voice low. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe he existed or not. His gold is sitting out on Strife and we’re going to get it.”
“Yeah, so… tell me about that. What’s the plan?”
She licked her lower lip and bit. “We need to get a boat and get out to the island in the morning.”
“Whoa. Isn’t that a little quick? I’d like to take more time, make sure we get into the right boat. If we’re too hasty, they’ll see it, and we’ll be charged a high price for a scrap boat.”
“We don’t have time. I should have been out there today. If the locals start to…” she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “If the locals start to wonder what we need the boat for, they’ll wonder if they should be heading to Strife too, and they’ll follow us.”
“Isn’t this all a little too fast? Did you plan anything before you got here?”
She tilted her head as hot air escaped her lips. Her plans included packing a backpack, along with the map, and a few more things. How much planning can you do when you’re not on site? The best thing was to get here and study the situation to see what she was up against. “How much planning can you do from an armchair in sunny Florida?”
“We don’t want to appear too panicked. These people here are intuitive. They’ll pick it up.”
Her jaw ached. “Okay,” she groaned through clenched teeth. “We wait one day. But only one.” She lifted her index finger.