by JC Harroway
Kenzie was speechless. She didn’t know if it was the most brazen, overstepping thing anyone had ever done, or the sweetest.
“Antonio, I told you, I’m going back to New York.”
“I know,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “But there could be reasons to come back.”
He looked at her knowingly and she smiled.
“I really appreciate you thinking of me,” she began.
“Don’t dismiss the idea before you give it some thought,” he urged. “I think about you all the time. You’re all I think about,” he said, looking directly in her eyes. “And I think that you feel the same way about me.”
“Maybe I do,” Kenzie realized as she said it out loud. “But we’re from two different worlds. And I really do need to get back to my business at home, before I lose it.”
Antonio’s hands dropped to his sides.
“I understand,” he said, looking more dejected then she had ever seen him. “Can I ask you for one favor before you go?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Can I...” Antonio moved in closer, putting his hand on the back of Kenzie’s head. He didn’t need to ask the question out loud. Her eyes were already saying yes. When their lips met, Antonio kissed her more passionately than ever, and she felt the electricity running through her body, from the top of her head right down to her toes. It was intoxicating, better than any cocktail and much more effective.
After a moment, they moved apart, breaking the spell.
“Now can I ask you a favor?” said Kenzie.
“You can ask me for anything,” Antonio retorted.
“Can you take me back to Baracoa? There’s someone there I need to see.”
* * *
When Kenzie and Antonio pulled up in front of Baracoa, Kenzie was surprised to see the amount of activity going on. She had told her PR person to cancel the event shortly after her drink at the bar the previous night. Maybe she hadn’t gotten the message? If crowds of people started showing up it was going to be a disaster.
“Why are they setting up?” she asked, turning to Antonio as they entered the courtyard. There were tables and chairs, and a man was stringing small gold lights all around the circumference.
“Kenzie!” Trudy said, throwing her arms around her confused friend. “I didn’t know if I was going to see you!”
“I’m on my way to the airport but I wanted to say goodbye,” Kenzie explained gently.
“You can’t leave now,” Trudy said insistently. “We’re just getting set up.”
“Trudy.” Kenzie said her name gently, taking her hand. “If we are shut down by the FDA there’s no way we can hold a rum mixer. I hope you didn’t continue with the planning...”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Trudy looked from Antonio to Kenzie and back again. “Tell her!”
Antonio cleared his voice. “I may have found a work-around. If we are a retail food establishment, we’re not subject to the inspection.”
“But what food are we retailing?” Kenzie asked.
Just then, a brightly painted truck came roaring up to the entrance of Baracoa. Kenzie recognized the burger logo on the side. “Is that the Latin burger guy?”
“Hello, thanks for coming,” Antonio said, waving the familiar-looking driver, who smiled at Kenzie when he saw her, through to the courtyard. Kenzie turned to see that following closely behind there was a row of about five other trucks, each selling different delicacies. Antonio waved each one of them into the courtyard.
“This is amazing,” Kenzie marveled. “You did all this?” she asked Antonio, still not believing that they had gone ahead with the plan.
“We both did.” Antonio put his arm around Trudy. “Thank you for all the years of service here, Trudy. You really are an artist.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Trudy said, beaming. “This is a special place,” Trudy added with a twinkle in her eyes.
“But what about the entertainment?” Kenzie asked. “You know Catalina has a broken leg and she can’t be here tonight.”
“Forget Catalina,” Trudy said, waving her off. “Why don’t you teach a yoga class? That’s what you do, right?”
“It is,” Kenzie said skeptically. “But really? Booze and yoga?”
“Why not?” asked Antonio. “I think people would love it.”
“Okay,” Kenzie agreed, feeling a smile form across her face. She would have to make it up as she went along, but she was becoming an expert in that. “Let’s do this!” she said to her friends.
* * *
Later that night as the sun began to set, cars started arriving at Baracoa and the courtyard took on a magical glow. Music played as Miami’s young up-and-comers filed in, all curious about whether rum was the “next big thing” as the flyers and email blasts from Kenzie’s press people had touted.
Kenzie stood by herself a little bit away from the action and took it all in. It was amazing that it had all come together. And not without a little, or rather a lot, of help from some new friends.
She watched as a woman in a colorful shift dress took a sip of a tropical cocktail she was holding.
“What is this?” she asked the bartender, making yummy noises and taking another sip.
“It’s a combination of three of the rums distilled here on the premises,” explained Jose, who was helping out as bartender. He was dressed in a madras shirt and fedora that went perfectly with the décor. “A light rum, a golden rum and a dark rum. I call it the ‘Baracoa,’” he said, turning to where Kenzie was standing and smiling in her direction.
Kenzie had nervous energy in her stomach, but she was happy, too. She couldn’t believe so many people had shown up, and that people she had met so recently had all stepped up to make her vision become a reality.
Suddenly, the music faded and Trudy, now dressed in a long floral maxi dress with her hair in a silvery bun, took a microphone in hand.
“And now please grab a yoga mat and join us for the main event!” she said enthusiastically. “I’d like to introduce, world class, certified yoga instructor and part owner of Baracoa distillery, MacKenzie Fox!”
Kenzie straightened out her special yoga outfit, a gold and black sports bra with matching leggings, and stepped in front of the crowd.
“I want to thank you all for being here tonight,” she said, her voice shaking. “This means so much to me. I’d like you to set an intention for your practice now.” When she said this, she looked over at the gateway to the courtyard and saw Antonio standing there by himself. He was wearing a linen suit, looking more handsome than she’d ever seen, and watching her as if he were mesmerized. “Deep breath in,” Kenzie instructed, raising her hands to the sky in prayer mode as the crowd followed along.
She led the guests through a thirty-minute session, and at the end of it, everyone applauded.
“Okay, now go drink some rum!” she instructed to everyone’s cheers and laughter.
As she walked back into the distillery to grab some water, she felt a strong hand wrap around her bare midriff. Antonio.
“You were fantastic,” he whispered, smiling at her and his eyes beaming with pride.
“Thank you,” she said shyly. “Trudy was right. That was fun. Wanna get a drink?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Antonio winked.
Standing in the courtyard, both sipping on Jose’s incredible concoction, Antonio leaned in to speak so that only Kenzie could hear him.
“See that man over there?” he said, gesturing subtly to a young guy in a suit and sneakers. “He’s with a major liquor brand. He made us a crazy offer to buy you out. I think you should take it.”
“What?” Kenzie said, unable to keep her voice down. “But this is your family place!”
“It’s yours now,” Antonio said smiling. “You earned it fair and square.”
“No,” Kenzie protested. Even though she had accomplished what she said she would, taking the distillery away from Antonio didn’t feel right. He had rum in his blood. And the truth was, she really cared about him.
“Unless you’re involved in Baracoa, I don’t want any part of it,” Kenzie said with finality.
“Well, should we sell it to him?” Kenzie and Antonio looked at the young man.
“He’d probably just turn it into some soulless, corporate commodity,” Kenzie said.
“You’re right,” agreed Antonio. “It’s too bad you have to go back to New York. If you stayed, we could run this place together...and do other things.”
“Well, what if I told you I could maybe see myself down here sometimes?” she said, with a little hint of flirtation in her voice.
“I would definitely be open to that,” Antonio said, putting down his drink on a nearby table and wrapping his arms around Kenzie’s small waist.
“So...” she said, tilting her head and looking up at him with a smile. “Partners?”
Antonio grinned back at her. “Yes. Partners,” he agreed.
She held out her hand to shake on it, and he pulled her in close.
“I probably shouldn’t bring this up, but there was another part to this bet,” he said, moving his hands down her back until they reached the curve of her ass.
“That’s right,” Kenzie said, as if she were remembering for the first time. “And it looks like I won.”
Antonio considered it, and then pushed a curl out of Kenzie’s eyes. “Then I guess that means that I lose,” he said, looking at her with a smoldering gaze serious enough to melt any woman’s heart, or at least remove her panties.
“Follow me,” she said, leading him back inside, past the crowds of guests and into the distillery warehouse.
Inside, she shut the door behind them and once again, they were alone with rows upon rows of those lovely, full rum barrels.
“So, does this mean you get to do anything you want with me? Those were the terms of the bet, correct?” Antonio held up his hands. “I’m game. Go ahead. Do your worst.”
Kenzie moved closer to Antonio and sat down on a barrel in front of him.
“What if I told you that even though I won the bet, you won, too?”
Antonio thought about this for a second and then breathed out a heavy sigh. Without breaking eye contact, he moved close to Kenzie, grabbed her head in his hands and kissed her, slowly, sensually, until she could feel it in her toes. It was a feeling she could get used to and for the first time she didn’t feel wistful or guilty—just happy.
“Are you saying this is real?” he whispered as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down over his bare, muscular shoulders.
“I’m saying you have me. All of me,” Kenzie said breathlessly, kissing her way down his chest and stopping at his waistband long enough to unfasten the clasp and zip and unleash the manhood she had gotten to know and love so well. There it was—so big and throbbing. She knew from that moment that she never wanted to be away from it—or Antonio again.
“Then let’s do this right,” he said. Antonio peeled off Kenzie’s yoga pants and sports bra and when she was completely naked, leaned her back over the barrel. Sliding his own naked body on top of hers, and looking deeply into her eyes, he plunged his eager cock into the only place it wanted to be.
“What are we doing?” he asked as he pumped in and out of her, his pace fast and joyous. “Tell me.”
“Lovemaking!” Kenzie answered playfully, grabbing a hold of Antonio’s firm ass with both her hands and pulling him into her even deeper.
Antonio took a hold of Kenzie by the hair, which forced her to look directly in his eyes. Her playful smile transformed into a sensual look.
“Making love,” she said softly. “We’re making love.” Her eyes and her tone were serious now. “And it’s the best thing in the whole world.”
The two of them smiled and somehow, managed to finish at the same time without even getting caught.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN KENZIE’S PLANE landed at MIA she waited impatiently for the captain to turn off the seat belt sign. The moment it switched off she slung her carry-on over her shoulder and made a beeline for the exit. In fact, part of the reason she had booked first class, apart from the obvious perks, was to be closer to the door so she could get to her intended destination sooner.
“Hola,” Kenzie greeted her usual driver when he picked her up at arrivals. Dressed in a bright fuchsia skirt and top, she no longer looked like an out-of-place New Yorker when she hit Miami Beach. The first time someone had actually asked her for directions to the design district, she was secretly elated. Imagine that, her being mistaken for a local.
And sometimes it did feel like she lived here, she visited so much. In the past six months, this was her third trip down to Honor Yoga Miami, and she had spent countless hours on the phone with her backers, all locals that she had connected with through the distillery.
As her driver rolled down the freeway, she thought about making a quick stop at Baracoa to see Trudy and the gang, but she knew in her heart it would have to wait until her next visit. Her itinerary for the forty-eight-hour trip was already jam-packed, and the first appointment was with a private client. Then there was a lunch with investors, and later, a wellness conference where she was the keynote speaker.
As she rolled down the window Kenzie closed her eyes and breathed in the salty sweet air that she had been missing. She knew she’d always be a New Yorker at heart, but Miami was like a second home now, one where she could be a little lighter, a little freer and yes, sometimes a bit wilder.
“Here you go, chica.”
Kenzie opened her eyes to see that they were stopped on the corner of her very own studio. It was amazing, the transformation that had taken place to realize her vision of an open, airy yoga space that somehow reflected both New York and Miami. There were elements that were calming, like the free-flowing pane of water visible through the street entrance, and some that were electric, like the neon sign that spelled out You Do You, a subtle hint at her very own mantra, in and out of the bedroom!
When she walked through the doors like she owned the place, Kenzie couldn’t help but giggle to herself—because she did own it. And her new location in Red Hook back in Brooklyn, too. She’d even had offers to franchise—but that was a meeting for another day.
“Welcome back, Ms. Fox,” chirped the young receptionist, outfitted in an Honor Yoga signature T-shirt and leggings.
“Please, Jillian, call me Kenzie.”
“Your private client is already here,” she stated, looking the slightest bit perturbed.
“Oh! I thought I was early,” Kenzie said, checking the time on her phone.
“You are,” Jillian said as she went to answer the ringing telephone. “Excuse me.”
Kenzie had counted on having at least thirty minutes to unwind from the flight and change into yoga clothes. She thought about slipping into the back office but figured she’d first better go check in with her appointment. Those who booked one-on-ones with her were the most exclusive of her clients. On her last trip she’d worked with Jennifer Lopez, Jason Derulo and two of the Kardashians.
“I’m just going to peek in and say hi,” she called to Jillian.
Opening the door to the studio, she announced herself with her usual greeting.
“Good afternoon, welcome to Honor Yoga!”
Her student was already seated on the mat. His shoulders were exposed in a white Honor Yoga tank top and his strong legs were straining to stay in a cross-legged position. Between them was the most enticing-looking bulge.
“Good afternoon indeed,” Antonio said, looking up at his instructor. “What do you have in store for me this afternoon, teacher?” he asked, his eyes flickering with desire.
Kenzie
walked over to him and lowering herself down to the mat, sat down in his lap, facing him.
“Well, this is very unconventional,” Antonio said, running the tips of his fingers over the hem of Kenzie’s flirty skirt.
“Try to quiet your mind, yogi,” Kenzie said, placing her hands on the sides of Antonio’s head. There it was, the face she had missed every night for weeks. There was only one thing to do and that was to kiss him, softly, luxuriously and intimately. She smiled at him and whispered in his ear.
“I want you to begin by taking a deep breath in.”
The two of them inhaled and exhaled in unison.
“Now, let’s get started.”
* * * * *
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