Damn the man.
He grunted. “Why don’t you want to go to the Lujo? It’s beautiful. Luxurious. Perfect for a girl like you.”
A girl like me? What on earth was that supposed to mean? “I’m sure it is, but I need to be with my client. It’s work.”
The driver shook his head. “Work, eh? He looks at you like you’re his woman.”
My anger shifted and turned into mortification. My spine stiffened. “I’m not. Now please, can you tell me where he’s going?”
He rolled his tongue over his teeth, and then clicked it. “I don’t know where he is, but I can guess. If he’s not going to the Hotel, there’s only one other place he can stay. Are you sure? It’s hard, and not nearly as fine as Hanga Roa and the Lujo.”
I closed my eyes and prayed for peace. “Triple what he paid you.”
The taxi lurched to a sudden stop, and I smacked my forehead off the back of the seat.
Ow! Dammit. I rubbed my head and scowled at the driver.
He flashed me a cheery smile. “Deal. He gave me twenty American dollars.”
Oh, fucking Connor. He owed me big time. I’d been on Easter Island for fifteen minutes and I was already out sixty bucks. I comforted myself with the rationale that this was chump change compared to the big payday I had coming in sixty days if I played my cards right and worked tenaciously.
I gritted my teeth, yanked my purse over to me, and peeled off three crisp, brand-new twenties for the driver.
He tucked them into his shirt pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
My stomach sank, but I wouldn’t let him see my doubt. I nodded.
The driver made a sharp U-turn, and instead of taking me east, we drove straight west.
What small amounts of urbanization that Easter Island had, and honestly, I was surprised that it had a working airport, hotels, and all the technology of a modern-day society, the further west we drove, the more it seemed as if the Island was rolling back in time.
All around me rolling green hills climbed towards the great depression that was one of Easter Island’s two inert volcanos. Placed almost like sentries for the island, in perfect rows in some places, were countless statues lined up perfectly.
How had the society which first settled Easter Island had the skill to erect them so perfectly? It was a mystery, and I found myself enjoying the ‘what if’ questions. Though I was curious, I would never admit it to Connor. He seemed so bent on infusing his belief that the “mana” magic on the island actually existed, and I didn’t want to play his silly little games.
Finally, though, after what felt like an hour in the car, the driver pulled off the bumpy, one-lane street and onto a dirt road. It had to be the right place because another taxi with airport tags zipped past us heading back towards the main city.
The taxi pulled into a small village, and that was being kind. It was full of thatch-roofed houses, and fishing boats bobbing from makeshift piers jutting from the shore.
There was a small town, and then there was this.
This was my personal hell. Oh, my God. Was there running water? How did they have electricity?
Connor’s comment about the flashlight came back to haunt me.
The cab pulled to a stop beside one of the larger buildings. The driver opened the door and spoke that quick, rolling language towards a bunch of people who were watching the goings on from the stoop.
He opened the trunk and started heaving my suitcases out. I got out. Dirt puffed around me. Dirt. The roads weren’t paved here.
What had I gotten myself into?
My doubt must have been visible on my face. The driver clucked his tongue at me. “I warned you. Your man, though, he’s over there.”
He nodded towards a gaggle of schoolkids who were hanging off a man. Had I lost my mind because the man who’d been turned into a jungle gym by the native kids looked a whole lot like Connor.
Something warm spread through my chest, a rush of sunshine beaming down on a frozen patch of land, and I shifted on my high-heels with disquiet.
Why did the scene impact me? So what? Connor was good with kids.
Except he was more than good. He was father figure of the year material.
The girlish squeals of one of his captives who’d he lifted upside down pierced the ocean-side village. The riotous cries of little boys competed with the seagull’s songs overhead.
It was surreal, and I stood in the middle of this tiny little hamlet, with my arms wrapped around my waist, a salt-laden breeze ruffling my skirt, and watched Connor play with the kids. He was a big kid himself and didn’t seem to tire, no matter how many of the children begged for their turn on the Connor-mobile.
What surprised me, though, was that the adults seemed to know him. One of the men, dressed in fisherman gear, swaggered over to him. They laughed and chatted in that foreign language. It had to be the local language.
The man spoke with his hands and then pointed toward me. My presence, until now, hadn’t been noticed by Connor.
He swung his head looking like a red-haired bulldog. I felt his surprise, and his annoyance, thud into me like a missile. He really didn’t want me here.
I hiked my chin up. Well, tough luck.
“Crystal baby, so glad you could make it!” He said in English, before switching languages again. More men had surrounded him, patting him on the back, and treating him like the prodigal son returning home. I knew he’d been born in Ireland, which was also green and an Island, but he had some weird connection with the people here. That was for damn sure. The men laughed at whatever he said, and humiliation sank into my skin as they all turned to me, and then nodded and patted Connor some more.
I hated him. I hated him so much.
I spun on my heels so he didn’t see the tears which suddenly sprang to life in my eyes.
Why did he have to make my life so difficult? First, he’d tried to fire me in front of Jeff Fabre at the conference. He treated me like a piece of meat after, as if it was somehow my fault that he had the libido of a horny teenage boy and couldn’t handle a woman’s body in front of him. And now.
Now he was talking about me to strangers in a language I didn’t understand, after having dragged me clear across the world to Easter freaking Island.
Who in their right mind would come here for a fight?
To relax? Yes.
To uncover the mysteries of the moai people? Sure.
To host a fucking two-month gladiatorial brawl? No. It made no sense.
I exhaled a shuddering breath, trying to find some Zen headspace so that I didn’t fly off the handle and start screaming at Connor. How long had it been since we landed?
I twisted my gold bracelet watch with the pink topaz face around and glared down at it.
A little over two hours, and I was already scoping out the nearest place to bury his body.
This did not bode well for me, my sanity, or Connor. Though I’d known that the whole time.
Ten million dollars, I mentally chanted. I didn’t like the fact that I was glomming onto money as a saving grace for my time here, but right now it was all I had.
“How did you get him to turn around?” Connor asked from behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach, but he was notoriously light on his feet, and it wasn’t like you made a lot of noise when walking over dirt.
I spun in place and threw him a glare. “The same way you got him to cart me off. Money.”
He grinned at me, and light winked off a gold tooth I hadn’t noticed before. Of course, he had a gold tooth. Why not?
Hysterical laughter swelled up inside me, followed by a wave of dizziness. I sat down on my luggage and leaned over, putting my head between my knees.
Connor’s legs and feet crossed into my view. “Are you alright?”
“Do I fucking look alright, Connor?” I didn’t dare sit up to yell at him but worked on overcoming the hyperventilation squeezing my lungs.
I inhaled deeply and held it.
“One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.”
“What did you just say?”
I exhaled and felt slightly better. “Nothing.”
Connor crouched down until his hazel eyes peered into mine. “You look like shit.”
I shoved my hair away from my face and sat up. I didn’t quite trust myself to attempt standing.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“What was that about?”
I didn’t dare talk to him about my panic attacks. He already thought I was this high-maintenance princess. What would he think once he knew that I had little mental meltdowns every time I couldn’t control something? That I might have a mild case of OCD. That this village, in all its backwater smallness, made me think of home. And, to top it all off, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with an insane Irishman who made my libido sit up and purr.
It was enough to drive a girl into the bottom of a jar of peanut butter and chocolate syrup.
I put on my brave face. “It’s nothing. Just point me to where I’m staying.”
Connor’s lips, surprisingly luscious for a guy, twisted into a smirk. He shook his head and stood up. “That’s the thing, sweetheart.”
I blinked up at him as my brain mentally noted how sexy he looked framed by the morning sun.
“What is it?” I asked, my skin tingling as worry coursed through me.
“They were only expecting me. The cabana here only has one bedroom.” He shrugged, and the material of his green shirt hugged his wonderful muscles. “If you’re staying here, you’re bunking with me.”
I leaned over again, put my head between my knees, and breathed deep.
“One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.” I whispered quietly.
5 - Connor
I left Crystal to calm down as I brought all four of her bags into the one-room hut I’d--I mean, we’d-- be living in for the next two months. Her four suitcases took up most of the space, but I would deal with that problem later.
“Are you ready for the grand tour?” I asked with a huge grin.
“Sure,” she responded, her voice loaded with fake enthusiasm.
“Okay. Well, this is the bedroom, obviously.” Most of the room was dwarfed by a full-sized mattress held off the floor by a metal frame. “Now, let me show you the main living room. Here, let’s make this a fun reveal.”
I stood behind her and put my hands over her eyes.
“Oh, okay,” she said, and finally a true tone of excitement colored her voice.
I walked her to the edge of the room, out the back door, turned her a couple of times, and then I brought her back in. “You ready?”
I hummed the tune to “I can show you the world” from my favorite Disney movie.
Crystal’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter. “Are you seriously humming Aladdin?”
“Yep. Just want to get you ready for this magnificence. And, open your eyes!” I removed my hands and showed her the same room we’d been in with a ringmaster’s flourish. “Ta-da!”.
She planted her hands on her narrow waist. “This is the main living room? But this is the bedroom.”
“Exactly, love. But this is the living room angle. Completely different.”
She looked up at me and rolled her cute little blue eyes, then shook her head. “You’re ridiculous. It isn’t ‘the living room’ now that we’re looking from over here.”
“Oh, come now, love. Can’t you see how it’s the main room from this angle?” With over the top enthusiasm, I stretched out my arms in front of our faces and formed two L-shapes to make a frame. “Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”
“So, there’s only one room.” She waved her hand over the splendor that was Casa de Connor. “In this entire house. Or hut. Cabin. Whatever we’re calling it.”
“Well now, there’s the shower. And don’t forget the sink, which is outside. That’s kind of a room. And a luxurious open air backyard.” I flashed her a cheeky grin.
Crystal took a deep breath, locked her hands together, and looked up at the ceiling. “One m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-p-p-i.” She whispered quietly.
“What’s that you keep saying?”
“Oh, well. When you were little, didn’t your teacher ever take you to the water fountain during break and have you count to ten? Mine did, but instead of counting, she told us to spell out Mississippi. Also, I’m from Mississippi and it’s just an exercise I do to calm myself down. Is that a straw ceiling?” Her eyes were still pointed upward.
“Yes, the roof is made of straw--it’s good for temperature control during the day since there’s no air conditioning.”
“You’re serious,” she said, glancing around the room. Her brow furrowed. All in all, the hut wasn’t any bigger than a large corner office.
“Sorry, no walk-in closet. You can still go back to the Hotel de Lujo if you want.”
“Jerk. It’s my job to be stylish. I can’t help it if that requires a lot of room. And bags. And shoes.” She crossed her arms. She was getting fired up again. And so was I with how her cleavage popped when she pressed it up.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I just want to be clear about how we’re going to be living for the next sixty days.”
I could literally see her body freeze up when I reminded her about the length of time we’d be staying here. She tensed her jaw.
“Fine. Let’s go and meet the neighbors.”
I looked at her up and down. I grabbed a pair of flip flops from my bag and tossed them at her. “For the love of God, put these on.” I always carried extras with me since they were the most commonly worn footwear on the island.
“They are a little big for me, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. You can get your own soon. For now, this will do.”
She sighed. “You know what, I’m really tired. I don’t think I have the strength to be social right now. Mind if I get some sleep?”
“Course not.”
While she rested, I went next door, said hi to a couple of old friends from when I’d lived here before, and walked around the town. When I got back to the cabin it was high noon, and I found Crystal still sleeping. Good. I figured she was delirious from the twenty-four hours of flying we’d just done, and I couldn’t blame her if that was the case. It was a long trip to get out here. And she was out of her element.
I imagined she would have a near meltdown when I told her about the shower situation. And then there was the electricity situation.
Not to mention I’d come down with a little “situation” myself. As in, all my blood was constantly flooding my cock when I was in her presence.
This was not good. I needed to be focused on my fight in sixty days with El Toro. Every day was vital for mental and physical preparation. It was part of the reason I’d chosen this location--so I could mentally prepare in isolation. Now I had a smoking hot babe in my bed, and she was all I could think about.
I racked my mind for options. Sure, I could have a bed imported from the town, put in on the floor and sleep there, give Crystal the bed. But then this would become a whole big thing that the locals would ask me about, why are we sleeping in separate beds, etc. And they were my rock, my mental support system. They’d probably also think that she was my girlfriend, but maybe I could just glaze over that detail with them.
Though the covers were on her, I knew exactly what she’d put on to go to bed. Baby blue panties, a colored matching bra, and a white t-shirt on over that. She’d whipped them off without warning, and right in front of me.
Well, to my left, but hey, I’m a fighter, I make my living off my peripheral vision.
It wasn’t lost on me that the woman was so coordinated even her bras matched her panties. I wondered what else about her was coordinated. Did she have a landing strip to match her blonde hair? Was she shaved, maybe? No. She’d be light blonde and proud of it, just like she was up top.
I took a page that I’d just learned from Crystal’s book, and put my own spin on it. “One-fucking-Mississippi,” I whispered.
; I exhaled.
Didn’t do much. I was still hard as lava rock. And where was there to hide this boner? Not like it was going to go anywhere while she was sleeping. I got naked, grabbed a towel and headed past the bathroom and to the shower.
The floor of the shower was concrete but the walls were wooden. I turned the water temperature to the coldest setting available, then put it on full blast.
I grunted as the cold water hit me, but it gave me what I lived for: an adrenaline boost. I loved the uncomfortableness.
“Yes,” I swallowed. It wasn’t painful, but a cold shower had a way of toughening a man up.
Unfortunately, it toughened up my boner, too. This was a particularly pesky one, too.
“Not going away, huh buddy? I see how it is.”
As the water streamed down my back, I closed my eyes and fisted my cock.
There was only one person I could think about. I imagined how it would go down.
There would be a knock on the wooden shower stall door and she’d come in. “Hey honey, I see you need a hand there. Mind if I come in?”
Of course not.
As if I could get any harder, the thought of seeing Crystal totally naked spurred me on. I’d probably stare at her for a full minute, taking in her soft skin, perfectly curvy body. Those luscious tits.
“I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” she’d say. She’d press the full front of her body into me, letting me feel those soft breasts pushing into my back as the water fell over us. “Let me help.”
She’d grab my cock and fist it with me, gently, because that’s the kind of woman she was. Kind and gentle. I’d turn and wrap my arm around her head, then plunge my mouth into those sweet, delicious lips of hers.
“Fuck,” I muttered out loud, running my hand up and down my length like a madman.
I’d reach my hand down to her pussy and stroke her as she stroked me. It wasn’t a planned position. It’d be almost awkward. She’d be wet with her own juices.
“Please fuck me, Connor,” she’d beg.
Fuck. I was about to cum buckets thinking about the girl who was just a wall away from me.
Fantasy Island Page 4