by ANDREA SMITH
“First of all, Tylar, my passion happens to be you, first and foremost, got it?”
I nodded.
“Secondly, there are other ways for me to enjoy a career in law without being a senior partner in a firm where we're backlogged with litigation for the next five years. I’m exploring some future opportunities that'd allow me more time to spend with my family.”
“Really?” I asked, “Do you plan on sharing this with me?”
“Mrs. Sinclair, how would you feel about being married to a judge?”
“Are you serious? But how -”
“Let’s just say I've been approached by a circuit court judge that is planning to retire after the first of next year in the middle of his term. He wondered if I'd accept his appointment to the bench to finish his term. I'm considering it.”
“But Trey - that's wonderful. If that’s what you want to do then go for it.”
“There are some downsides and risks with this. I want to make sure you're on board with that as well.”
“What risks?”
“Well, first of all, I'd have to be fairly comfortable that I'd get elected once I finished out his term. Secondly, the money wouldn't be what I'm used to earning at the firm.”
“Trey,” I sighed, “I’m not worried about you not getting elected or the money. We'll do just fine. We have income from the ranch that's picking up. I’m certain we'd scrape by.”
“Then I have your support?”
“Of course you do, baby. I love the idea of fucking a judge.”
Trey smiled down at me in the moonlight. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling his face down to mine. We kissed long and passionately. I pulled away from him.
“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Let’s go back to our stateroom and play for a while. I’d like to see what the ‘long arm of the law’ can do.”
“Oh yeah, baby,” Trey said, taking me by the hand as we hurried back to the stairwell leading to our deck.
CHAPTER 21
The ship docked in Montego Bay the following morning. Trey and I'd ordered breakfast in our stateroom. We showered and dressed getting ready to go onshore for the day. We both were wearing shorts, tees and comfortable shoes.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and donned a ball cap to shield my face from the hot Jamaican sun. We both lathered up with sunscreen and headed to the lower deck to disembark. I'd packed our swimming gear in case we ended up at the beach in a back pack instructing Trey he had to wear it.
Once on shore, there were various cabs or busses available to take the passengers to various hot spots of Montego Bay. Trey and I took a cab to a place that rented sunfish sailboats. Trey had told me he wanted to take me sailing and snorkeling.
I was impressed with my husband’s ability to sail. The water was crystal clear blue. Once out in the bay, Trey lowered the anchor and we lay on our stomachs watching the various forms of sea life through the clear water. The sand bar nearby allowed us to see all sorts of turtles, crabs and lizards. The schools of fish that swam under our boat were in every color and pattern imaginable.
Trey identified many of the fish for me: Caribbean Blue Tang, Purple Tang, Lionfish, and Angelfish. We put on our snorkeling gear and lowered ourselves into the water. The fish avoided us and that was fine with me.
I followed Trey as he paddled over to some rocks that surrounded a small reef. We went up on the rocks where we could see crabs of all sizes, turtles and sea urchins. I freaked when I saw something slither into the rocks that had long bristles sticking out all over it. I backed away quickly.
“That’s a bristle worm, Tylar,” Trey explained. “He’s more frightened of you than you are of him.”
“Don’t bet on it,” I replied going back into the water.
We swam back to our sunfish and climbed up on it lying flat to dry out. Trey lifted anchor and we sailed along the coast line of the giant bay. There were all kinds of colorful reefs and caves. It was gorgeous and a first for me.
Once we returned the boat, we walked up to a crowded outdoor mall that was full of duty-free shops. I found some coral and turquoise jewelry I wanted to buy for Gina.
Trey and I found some cute t-shirts for Preston that had pictures of colorful fish on them, along with a ‘Montego Bay’ hoodie. Trey insisted we get matching hoodies for ourselves to match Preston’s. I thought that was kind of cute.
“Are you getting hungry?” he asked as we stood in line to pay for our purchases.
“I'm starving.”
Trey looked around and spotted an outside café where live Reggae music could be heard.
“Why don’t you go and grab us a table, babe while I pay for this? I’ll be there shortly. Order us some margaritas, okay?”
“Got it,” I said heading over to the café.
I found a table with an opened umbrella and took a seat. A waiter came over very shortly sporting the traditional dreads and colorful attire. I ordered our drinks. He left a menu at the table. I was perusing the menu when Trey came up looking extremely pissed.
Oh hell - what now?
“Fucking bitch,” he spat.
“What the hell did I do?”
He looked over at me alarmed; then his face softened. “Not you, baby.”
“Who then? Where's the stuff we bought?”
The waiter set our margaritas down on the table and asked if we were ready to order. I asked him to give us a couple of minutes to decide.
“How much cash do you have on you, Tylar?”
“Trey, what the hell's going on?”
“My credit cards have apparently been cancelled.”
“What?”
“Shhh,” he said, “I just want to make sure you have some cash on you so we don’t have to do a ‘dine and dash’.”
“Well yeah, I have cash to pay for this, don’t worry about that. How did your credit cards get cancelled?”
Trey gave me a look that said ‘guess.’
“Amber?”
“That’s my first guess.”
“But how? Why?”
“How? Because I pay bills online on my computer so she had access. Why? Because she's a fucking bitch.”
“Okay, so calm down. Let’s not let it ruin our vacation. I have a credit card I use for the horse supplies and handle on my own. We can use it to buy the stuff at the shop.”
I dug through my bag and found my credit card.
“You stay here and I’ll go back and get the stuff, okay? Just order me whatever you're having for lunch.”
Trey nodded. I could tell he was still furious. What was that bitch hoping to accomplish with all of this? The better question was: how many more wacko people would come into our lives?
When I returned with our purchases, Trey seemed a bit more relaxed. He was on his second margarita by then.
“Hey baby, I missed you,” he said giving me a dimpled grin.
“I missed you too, sweetie.”
He leaned over, kissing my lips several times. The waiter came back and set another margarita down for me along with the appetizers that Trey had ordered.
We sipped our margaritas and dined on shrimp with lime sauce, mini crab cakes and fried cheese sticks. It was wonderful. The Reggae music kind of grew on me after a while.
After lunch, Trey and I walked through some of the art galleries and craft shops. I bought a beautiful print for our bedroom. We took pictures of the surroundings and some of the street entertainers and musicians. We walked back down to the docks hand in hand.
“What do you feel like doing now?” he asked as we boarded the ship.
“I don’t care. Do you want to spend some time at the pool?”
“Sounds good to me, baby.”
I put another one of my designer bikinis on and headed out to the pool with my iPad, towel and sunscreen.
Trey was already down there having a cocktail. We pretty much had the common area to ourselves as none of the other people were back from town yet.
Trey watched me from b
eneath his sunglasses as I laid my towel out on the sun lounge and kicked my flip-flops off.
“Mmm, baby, that suit is skimpier than the other one.”
“You can blame Gina for that; she insisted on picking them all out for this trip.”
“I think I'll thank Gina,” he said in his smooth and silky voice.
That’s a first - he must be getting buzzed.
“Why don’t you let me put the sunscreen on you?”
“Sure,” I replied, settling back on the lounge chair, positioning it to lie flat.
Trey got up from his chair and removed his sunglasses. He poured the lotion into his hands rubbing them together. He started at my shoulders, massaging the sunscreen into them gently. His hands moved down, massaging my arm and hand. He put more lotion in his palm and did the other arm. He returned to my front, rubbing lotion onto my belly very slowly and sensually.
“Mmmm - that feels good,” I breathed.
“Does it?”
He dribbled more lotion onto my belly and his hands massaged around my navel ring.
“This is so damn sexy,” he said, lowering his lips to my belly allowing his tongue to circle my navel ring.
“I thought you didn’t like the desecration of my navel, Mr. Sinclair?”
“I like it now,” he said huskily.
I still had my eyes closed thoroughly enjoying the feel of my husband’s hands caressing my body with lotion. I felt his tongue move southward as his fingers gently tugged the bottom of my suit down to let his tongue find my sex. He swirled his tongue around and around. It felt delicious. He lowered my bikini bottom down further.
“Ahh, Trey - we're out here in broad daylight you know?”
“Hush baby. I want this here and now. No one's out here but us.”
“Yeah, but that could change at any moment.”
“I’ll be quick then,” he replied, his fingers now joining his tongue in pleasuring me.
I was consumed with feeling my husband’s mouth and tongue all over my sex. I was wet for him. He continued with his oral ministrations; his fingers were inside of me, expertly bringing me to climax. I moaned softly, keeping my eyes closed as I neared my peak.
“That’s it Tylar; let it go baby.”
My body tensed and then the pleasured release spiraled within me as my orgasm unraveled. I moaned his name over and over as he drank in my nectar. He moaned with his own pleasure and satisfaction.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered against my lips, kissing me with passion once again.
“Trey - let’s go up to our stateroom. We’ve had enough sun for one day.”
CHAPTER 22
The rest of our trip was exquisite. Grand Cayman was gorgeous as well. Trey and I did more snorkeling, more shopping, took more pictures and made love whenever we could.
We'd had beach sex for the first time which while exciting and romantic with the moonlight and crashing waves, did have the downside of allowing sand to get into some very uncomfortable places.
All too soon the ship was docking back into New Orleans and we were on a flight back to Atlanta. I was curled up against Trey on the plane. We were both sipping margaritas, trying to make our vacation last as long as possible. We still had Saturday and Sunday before he went back to the firm.
We'd talked again about his going for a judgeship. Deep down, I was thrilled with the idea. I didn’t want to get my hopes up at this point because nothing was guaranteed.
“I wish we would've had another week,” I grumbled to him.
“Oh, sweetie, it was perfect. I’m sure if you'd spent any more time cooped up with me I would've been on your nerves.”
“Yeah? You’re probably right.”
His arm drew me to him playfully, his fingers pulling my face to his. He kissed me making a long and loud sucking sound. The other passengers in first class were looking over at us.
“Trey stop,” I whispered loudly, starting to giggle. “People are watching.”
“Why don’t we give them something good to watch then, Mrs. Sinclair? I think it’s time you get initiated into the Mile High Club.”
Trey asked the flight attendant for blankets. He switched our overhead lights off and gave me a blanket to cover myself with as did he. He raised the armrest between our seats so that we could cuddle together.
I'd nearly dozed off when I felt Trey’s hands beneath the blanket. He unzipped my jeans and his fingers dipped below the top of my panties finding my sex and gently manipulating his fingers to get inside me.
Oh My! I thought he was kidding!
My eyes flew open and I looked up at him. His eyes were closed as if asleep. His hands were very much awake and doing magical, lovely things to me. I relaxed against him and thoroughly enjoyed it as his fingers brought me to orgasm. I stifled my moans by chewing on the edge of the blanket.
Once pleasured, it was my turn. I shifted on my side moving closer to him as I ‘slept.’ My hand explored his crotch area under the blanket. I wasn’t nearly as adept as Trey was with getting inside of someone else’s clothing with precise and fluid movements. I fumbled around for a couple of minutes. Finally Trey came to my rescue by unzipping his fly and releasing his very erect cock without notice.
I took it from there as my hand expertly stroked the length of his shaft moving up and down from head to root. My fingernails traced lightly along the sensitive ridge, then plunged down the length of it again. He squirmed underneath me; I heard his breathing coming faster.
I increased my tempo in response to his breathing, making sure that I lowered my other hand to gently massage his scrotum. He was close; his breathing was ragged. I felt him stiffen and I stopped as I felt the familiar throbbing of his shaft. A soft moan escaped as he came beneath the dark blue blanket. I was glad the seats were leather. It was much easier to clean.
A limo took us from the airport to our house. There were a couple of lights on inside which we kept on timers. I'd fallen asleep in Trey’s lap on the way home. Jean wouldn’t be coming back until Sunday evening. We were going to pick Preston up at Tristan and Gina’s in the morning. Trey paid the driver as I unlocked the door. Trey brought our luggage into the entry hall. He locked the door behind us.
“Come on ‘Island Tylar,’ let’s get to bed. We can get unpacked in the morning.”
Trey had taken to referring to me as ‘Island Tylar’ while we'd been on vacation. I kind of liked it. We'd grown so close; I felt we were closer now than ever before.
He put his arm around me as we climbed the stairs to the master suite. Our own bed was going to feel so damn good. Trey flipped the light switch on once we reached our room. It took me a moment to get my bearings and make some sense of what I was seeing. I heard Trey suck his breath in as he looked around.
Dresser drawers were hanging open with clothes scattered about. There were empty hangers strewn all over the floor from my closet to the bed. Our bed was piled high with clothing. My clothing. I went over to the bed picking up the various articles of my wardrobe that'd been slashed, ripped and cut up with either a knife or scissors.
“Stop,” Trey ordered, causing me to jump. “Don’t touch anything! We have to call the authorities.”
Two hours later both of us fell exhausted into our bed. The sheriff’s deputy said there wasn’t a lot they could do. Nothing had been taken as far as we could tell; there was no sign of forced entry. It appeared to them that it was a simple act of vandalism. I didn’t consider it simple at all. This was malicious. This was totally directed at me. It was a threat if nothing else.
The deputy said they'd send the mobile crime lab out in the morning to dust for fingerprints but not to get our hopes up that anything would develop. He advised Trey to put an alarm system in. That was that. Our beautiful vacation had been spoiled by coming home to something like this.
“Trey,” I said, looking over at him in bed, “do you think Amber's capable of something like this?”
“God Tylar, she'd have to be a psycho. I can’t think
she'd take it this far. I’m starting to wonder if I’m looking in the wrong direction at all of this. Try to sleep, baby.”
He pulled me to him, wrapping me in his safe, strong arms. We finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
Trey and I slept until nearly noon the following day. The doorbell woke us up. It was the mobile crime unit that'd been dispatched to dust for fingerprints in various places of the house both inside and out. They were there for about an hour and a half. Trey and I cleaned up their mess afterwards.