She begins to give me head. Brag-worthy head, but I'm not that fucking kinda guy. My hands graze through her tresses. I glance at the fat mounds of Lido's buttocks, her ass is tooted up so high as she sucks me off. So I grip her hair, and catch her gaze. I murmur, "Mi amor, turn over."
A bright smile moves from Lido's cheeks all the way to her eyes. She flips around. Ass up.
Just to get the momentum going, my dick tastes the sweetness of her pussy first. All the juicy love she provides my cock is heaven to me. I could stay there. But like a flower bud, her ass is my line of vision. So that's where I must go …
My legs plant wide, hands grasping the silky stickiness of Lido's hips. Her buttocks squeeze my cock perfectly as I push my way into her ass.
"Franco," Lido's breath is short, snappy with need. As her ass slams back against me, she begs, "Harder!"
Claws' digging into her backside, the animal in me takes over. A low guttural growl takes over me as I slam my cock in and out of her repeatedly. I force her legs wider. Then Lido's back is pressed to my chest, as I reach around and toy with her nether regions. Her climax drenches on my hand while my cum squirts into her ass.
We fuck, we rest, we fuck some more. After a few hours, Lido is laying in my arms. Her damp hair matted to my chest. But she isn't the right puzzle piece, what once fit no longer does.
"I just realized this entire time, we haven't been flying," her breathy tone is sexy as hell. "It's a long flight to Madrid, at least I've been to some places in Spain. But … Northern Spain, we should get going, Franco."
"We?"
I drink in the sight of her perfect body as Lido turns onto her stomach, leaning up on her elbows. "Yes, silly, we. I can't wait to meet … "
Her smile fades as I chuckle deep within my abdominals. She always used to say how sexy my laughter sounded. Sexy and erotic. Yet, awareness is seeping into that conceited façade.
"Franco … babe … "
"Yesterday, you were with Veronica. She's hot as hell, Lido. So I get it. You've been tweeting about getting your number one back for weeks. Why the fuck would I take you home – forgive me for cussing." I add, voice stoic.
Those dark marbles for eyes slit and I swear all the whites surrounding Lido's pupils disappear as the little demon slaps me in my chest. I grasp her wrists before she can slap my face.
"Fuck you, Franco!" Lido almost falls onto the floor. She plops up and begins to search for her clothing. "Yeah, I'm back with Veronica. I've loved her for a lifetime, asshole! I came to offer you a deal."
Again I chuckle, "Si, you have muy grande cajones, so I don't doubt your crazy ass had some sort of scheme."
"Crazy?" She snaps. "Okay, yes! Crazy – crazy in love with you and Veronica! I love the both of you, Franco."
"Sure." I begin to shuffle around for my briefs as she hastily steps into her thong.
"Babe, listen to me," Lido steps before me, pawing my cheek. "You and me, we've always been good. I'm going to talk to Veronica about us soon. Then we all can be together."
My eyes glaze over with desire of bedding two supermodels; she licks her lips with excitement as if I've been persuaded. I kiss her lips, and begin to pick up my pants.
"I'll slowly get Veronica around to our way of seeing things. You'd love her. She's sweet."
"Sweet? Sweet is good. Sweet is exactly what I need." I grab my cell phone from my pocket as Lido continues with a lavish dream about the man and woman she loves.
"Franco, who are you calling? I'm talking about us, our future!"
"Bueno," I speak into the receiver, then add, "Uno momento por favor." I look back at Lido. The irritation is beginning to rise again. Placing the phone at my side, I give Lido the attention she so desired, saying, "Lido, I'm speaking to the pilot. On my way to the airstrip this morning, I let him know to take an extended lunch break if a drop dead gorgeous, self-inflated young woman dropped by. And you did. Have you finished playing yourself yet, because I've got a flight to catch?"
CHAPTER 9
Angelique
Cabo de Blanco, Spain
MELODY SUCKERED ME into venturing to the North of Spain as opposed to Paris, Italy, or even my bucket list desire to visit Egypt. Either she's delusional, or Mel has selective memory. Though she's been repeatedly reminded about myself dedication, to include a physical copy of my thesis that I hand delivered to her. I wonder if all of the research about self marriage might have confused Melody since my objective was for her to get the gist of how women felt afterward the ceremony. She's hell bent on calling this girls vacation a "bachelorette party." She said, maybe I'll meet Chef Franco de Leon. He's been MIA for a while, but I did just see a commercial about his Sweet and Savory show coming back on next Tuesday evening. All and all, for Melody to have a PhD in mathematics, she hasn't calculated the probability of me crossing paths with the gorgeous chef. Call it wistful thinking, but I packed a few cute items just in case.
I would be the first to arrive. Our girlfriends were to arrive late Friday to stay the weekend, me and Mel were to come on the prior Monday. At the last minute, Melody said she'd have to meet me at Cabo de Blanco. With all the lawyers in Melody's family, she quick talked and mentioned that she'd scored a red-eye to be here by Thursday before I even awoke. So Melody and I would hang out before the rest of the girls arrived.
The worry crept in, no doubt, it clung to my shoulders all throughout the twelve-hour flight. On Monday when I arrived, I slept the entire day due to jetlag. It's Tuesday night, and I've just gotten off the phone with Melody. She won't go into why the postponed trip, but has already hired a wedding planner for me.
I suppose being by myself has helped. This walk along the beach has been good for me. My mind wonders to the psychic at the investment event Carlton just took me to. She was right about one thing. I am at a fork in the road. Then Carlton permeates my thoughts. With my cognitive background, I continue to revert to the fundamental question: how.
How could I lose myself in a man?
Lost in the flesh and bone of another.
Lost in the very fiber of it all.
The salty sea breeze rushes through my lungs while cool sand massages alongside my bare feet. I'm supposed to be celebrating the dissolution of a toxic relationship – ironically, the relationship that I assumed would end in "I do."
My gaze follows the diamond twinkling reflection of the moon across a vast sea. The ocean is just as enthralling as during the day when the turquoise water takes my breath away. The breeze makes the white maxi dress cling to the mahogany velvet of my skin.
A cackling sound makes me peer through the darkness. I'm a thousand miles away from home in Long Beach, California. Damn, I still can't get away from being the laughing stock over a man.
Across the dark sand, a figure at least six feet and very wide causes my brain to flash with warning signs. Bear … no, it can't be. The figure makes weird sounds or, at least, that's how it carries through the wind. Instinctively I trudge backward into the sand. Before I can turn around, I don't take heed to instincts. Instead, I walk closer to the … laughter.
It's a man.
The stranger moves from his belly to his hands and onto his feet, with exotic, yet boisterous laughter as he struggles to stand. The bottle of toxic persuasion gripped in his hand sloshes with each move. The drink just might be the death of him as he falls again on his ass. He's wearing a hoodie and jeans. At his angle, I can't tell how tall he is. But he's burly, burly as hell.
At the sound of his voice, I pause. Every fiber of my being mellows. The mockery of me being on vacation alone disappears. The most gorgeous sound twines out toward me. The words are incoherent at best, but I did take a few years in Spanish and I've had a couple of Latino clients who like to argue in their native tongue when disputing about whom cheated more in their relationship.
My God, I want to know these words, slurred together so exotically. He looks up at me. The full moon casts a glow upon his amber gaze. The moon reflects pure honey, his eyes twinkle in his inebriation.
"Mi Bella..." He sighs.
"Huh?" I breathe the word. I know exactly what this means. Beautiful. Carlton never calls me that. If I could go back, tweak my list of demands in a man, this would be at the top.
"Mi Bella. Mi Vida. Mi corazon. Mi Bella, Ella se ha ido."
"Oh," the murmur seeps past my thick lips. I extract myself from the warmth of those eyes; the pain is too tangible. This is supposed to be a place of comfort, and I can't get lost in his pain. He's a stranger. Yet, I piece together his words ‘Ella se ha ido.' Nodding slowly, I say, "oh, your woman is gone."