First Wife Club

by Sterling, Rex

  “Hi, Trap.” Hazel smiled at me cheerfully and then turned to Sam before her jaw dropped. “Wow. Brooke wasn’t kidding.”

  “Excuse me?” Sam asked, frowning. “She wasn’t kidding about what?”

  Hazel’s cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet. “Nothing. Sorry.”

  I glanced at Sam. “Brooke told Hazel how pretty you were,” I lied.

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea what Brooke said about me.” Her gaze lingered on Hazel before she unexpectedly stepped forward and brushed a lock of Hazel’s brown hair away from her face. “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Velma from that Scooby Doo movie? The resemblance is striking.”

  Hazel’s cheeks turned an even brighter shade of crimson. “I may have heard that once or twice.”

  “She was super hot,” Sam said. “And so are you. You hide yourself away down here in this dusty office all day?”

  Hazel gazed up at me as if seeking a lifeline. “Uhh… yeah. Well, I run six miles every morning.”

  “I’m a runner too,” Sam said, her voice chipper. “We should totally hook up. I’ll drag Trap along with us.”

  “I’m not much of a runner,” I said. “But I’ll towel you off after.”

  Sam glanced between Hazel and me with her lips quirked and her eyes twinkling with a mischievousness I recognized. “Have you two ever gone out on a date?”

  “Babe, we’re really dipping into the deep end here with these questions,” I said. “Hazel and I have a professional, working relationship.”

  Sam shrugged. “She’s still a girl, and a very cute one.” She cocked her head sideways and studied Hazel intently. “I know just the outfit….” She whispered under her breath, as if caught up in her own thoughts.

  I cleared my throat while Hazel averted her gaze. I turned to the shy researcher and put on my best smile. “Is now still a good time to photograph Sam’s tattoo?”

  “Ummm… yeah,” Hazel said, frowning at Sam, clearly distracted by the blonde’s measured gaze. “I set up a table in the room across the hall.”

  “I would love to get you in to see my hairdresser,” Sam said before tilting her head, furrowing her brow, and giving Hazel a long look. “You have amazing bone structure. I think you could make some real money modeling.”

  “Thanks?” Hazel said, her cheeks turning redder by the second.

  “How about we take care of business,” I said, trying to redirect the conversation.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sam said. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Hazel let out a held breath and smiled nervously. “Good. Follow me.”

  We left Hazel’s office and stepped across the hall to a room empty of all furniture except for a long table with blankets draped over the top. A large lamp hovered nearby and a professional camera mounted on a tripod sat beside the table.

  “Looks comfy,” Sam said.

  “I’ll step out while you get undressed,” Hazel said.

  “There’s no need for that,” Sam said as she stripped off her tank top and stood before us wearing her white lace bra. Her cleavage popped from the tight lace cups and she smiled without a hint of reservation or embarrassment. “I’m not timid.”

  Hazel openly gawked, her jaw scraping the floor. “I wouldn’t be either with that figure.”

  Sam reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall forward off her chest. “I bet you have a killer body under that lab coat and those baggy sweats.”

  I eyed Sam’s tits greedily, savoring the clean demarcation of tan lines crisscrossing her bountiful breasts. Big, firm, and springy — her tits were like the sexual field of dreams. I couldn’t imagine what possessed her to latch onto me, but here I was dating one of the hottest women I had ever laid eyes on who had just stripped down to nothing but her shorts.

  Sammie stood before us with her chest out and her hands on her hips. “Just lay face down on the table?” she asked as Hazel and I gawked.

  Hazel snapped back to reality and nodded. “Right.” She cleared her throat and crossed to the black light. “Face down.”

  Sammie flashed me a knowing smile, then climbed onto the table, positioning herself, regretfully, tits down. She settled into place, and her big tits bulged out from either side of her chest.

  Despite having sex with Sammie three times in a twelve-hour time span, my cock stirred to life, ready for more action. The blonde goddess was more than aware of her impact on my libido, and it was then I decided that Samantha Monroe was possibly the savviest, most cunning woman I had ever met. She knew how to manipulate people with an almost scary level of proficiency, and I wondered how much of that god-level control she had directed at me. This was her harem, and I was simply one of the players.

  “Trap, can you hit the overhead light?” Hazel asked.

  “Sure thing,” I flipped off the light while Hazel switched on the ultraviolet light.

  The room took on a hazy, purple glow, and Sam’s back came alive with the rich detail of the map Butch had so painstakingly tattooed.

  “Wow,” Hazel said, hovering over Sam’s back. “That’s incredible.”

  “He was a true master with the ink,” I said.

  “But not a harem master like his son,” Sam said from the table, giggling at her own joke.

  “Did you tell her about King Itzcoatl?” Hazel asked.

  “Nope,” I said. “Not that I’m holding anything back, it just hasn’t come up. Sammie has her own little harem fetish.”

  “King who?” Sam asked.

  “Why don’t you fill her in while I take the pictures,” Hazel said.

  If she had ideas about building a harem before, the story of King Itzcoatl would send her into a feeding frenzy. “Sure,” I said with trepidation.

  While Hazel snapped pictures of Sam’s back, I told Sam the story of King Itzcoatl. I told her about the five faces of the king’s brides tattooed on his back, and I told him about each wife and the love he had for them. Throughout the telling, Sammie paid rapt attention, her lips parted and her eyes wide with excitement.

  I finished the story about the same time Hazel finished taking the pictures. When I flipped on the overhead light, Sam sat up, making no effort to hide her jiggling boobs.

  “That tattoo is the key to everything,” Sam said. “It’s fate. It has to be.”

  Hazel and I traded a skeptical glance while Sam slipped off the table, her tits bouncing like a circus act.

  “Don’t you see?” Sam asked. “The timing of me coming into your life, what happened with Brooke last night, and now this. It’s way too much to be a coincidence.”

  “What happened with Brooke?” Hazel asked, her expression worried.

  “She and Trap made out,” Sam said. “And when I say made out, I mean they really went after it.”

  “It was a dare,” I said.

  “Don’t underplay it,” Sam said. “It was more than that and you know it.”

  “I don’t see how King Itzcoatl’s harem has anything to do with finding his treasure,” Hazel said. “Other than holding clues that may lead to his tomb.”

  “It has everything to do with it,” Sam said. “I can feel it in my bones. Trap, you need a harem to help you find the treasure.”

  I chuckled and held up my hands. “Hold on. I’m still processing last night and you want me to build a harem? With who?”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Me and Brooke.” She turned to Hazel. “And Hazel. Maybe Maria from the bar and my mother.”

  Hazel’s eyes widened with shock. “Your mom?”

  “Leave Hazel out of this,” I said. “You’ll scare her away. And Hazel’s right. You want me to recruit your mother into a harem with her own daughter?” I laughed and shook my head. “That won’t happen.”

  “Why not?” Sam said. “You and my mom got busy last week. She likes you and you like her. What’s the problem?”

  Hazel’s jaw dropped. “You are a busy man, Trap Ashford.”

  “You know abo
ut that?” I asked, not even trying to hide my shock.

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Of course. We need to call her.” Her brain was already spinning.

  “Let’s not put the cart before the horse,” I said. “First, we need to find the last two pieces of the map and figure out what to do with the figurine.”

  “I agree,” Hazel said. “Besides, I’m not really the harem kind of gal. I play video games and watch the Discovery channel in my spare time.”

  Sam, at long last, picked up her bra and put it on while she turned to face Hazel. “Don’t downplay your beauty. Not only are you a freaking genius, the more I look at you, the more I believe you may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Hazel laughed. “I’m not even half as good looking as you.”

  “Bullshit,” Sam said and picked up her tank top while she turned to face me. “Baby, would you mind waiting out in the hall for a second? I want to speak with Hazel girl to girl.”

  Hazel stiffened, and I frowned at Sam. “Why?”

  “There are some things we women keep to ourselves,” Sam said, and pointed at the door. “Wait outside.” She wasn’t asking.

  I turned to Hazel. “If she makes you uncomfortable, yell for me.”

  Hazel flashed me a nervous smile, then I left the room, leaving the women alone while I paced the hallway.

  Ten minutes later, the ladies emerged with Hazel laughing and chitchatting with Sam like they were long-lost friends.

  “You’ve got my number,” Sam said as she drew Hazel into a tight hug. “I’ll text you the exact time.”

  “I can’t wait,” Hazel said, seeming to mean it. Hazel turned to me. “You’ve got yourself a wonderful woman, Trap. Don’t mess it up.” Then Hazel really surprised me by pulling me into a quick hug and brushed my cheek with her lips. “I’ll let you know when I have something.”

  Sam watched on, her eyes glittering with joy before the women exchanged one last deep hug and Hazel said her last goodbye.

  On the way out, Sammie picked up my hand, lacing her fingers in mine, and walked beside me wearing a content smile.

  “So?” I asked.

  She gazed up at me and frowned. “So, what?”

  “What happened? How do you win these women over so easily?”

  Sam shrugged and quirked her lips into a coy smile. “It’s girl talk, baby. You wouldn’t understand.”

  When we reached Sam’s car, she drew me into a long, passionate kiss before I stepped back and took her hands in mine.

  “Are you sure I can’t talk you into a sleepover? Not having you with me feels… wrong. It’s a gut punch I don’t like.”

  “Awww….” She kissed me again. “That’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me.”

  “I’m falling for you,” I said. “Being with you is the easiest thing in the world, and I never know what the next minue will bring.”

  Sam’s eyes glistened. “I love you more every second we’re together.”

  “Come to the boat later,” I said. “If Brooke calls, we can see her together.”

  She shook her head. “Brooke loves you just as much as I do, and I have a feeling we need her now more than ever.”

  “You really believe in that harem stuff?”

  “Not only do I believe it,” she said. “I was born for just this moment. I would stake my life on it.”

  “If it’s true, then having you by my side would be a dream come true.”

  She kissed me one last time. “Baby, I’m living my dream. Call me later and let me know what happens with Brooke.”

  I gave her one last kiss before she got in her car and drove away.

  Chapter 6

  When I returned to the marina, I found a Model S Tesla parked in my spot. Top-end luxury vehicles were common at a marina lined with yachts, but those cars belonged to owners who parked in their own assigned spots.

  Irritated, I parked my old Ford truck in one of the guest spots near the office and strolled past the Tesla on my way to my boat. I could report the offense to the parking overlords who ran the marina, but something told me that anyone who could afford a Tesla like that wouldn’t get flack from a security guard paid by the hour. My best bet was to wait it out. Whoever owned the car wouldn’t be there forever.

  As I strolled past, I noted the Florida plates, followed by the stunning brunette sitting in the passenger seat. With the window down, she gave me a faint smile and a nod as I passed.

  With dark silky hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, the young woman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two, had the exotic look of a supermodel. Part of me wondered if that wasn’t exactly who she was given her extraordinary beauty and the make and model of the vehicle. She wore dark sunglasses that hid her eyes, but her lips were full and pink. She had a smooth, faintly bronze, Latina complexion typical to the displaced Cubans who called Miami home, which included my very own Maria Anderson.

  But this lady was high-end, classy, and squarely perched high on an ivory tower in the untouchable zone. A woman like her wouldn’t give a stiff like me a second look. I returned her nod as my anger fled. Remaining angry in the face of such an exquisite beauty wasn’t possible.

  Halfway down the pier, I noticed a man wearing a business suit sitting casually on the aft deck of my boat, gazing back down the pier at me. This had to be the Tesla owner and judging by his car, his girlfriend, and his business suit, I doubted we ran in the same circles.

  I pressed onward, and the man stood as I approached, a warm smile decorating his chiseled face.

  He was handsome, standing over six-feet tall. He had dark hair streaked with gray, a smooth, strong jawline and a bronze complexion similar to his girlfriend. I would have put him in his late-forties to early fifties but he looked ten years younger.

  “Pardon me for so rudely entering your home,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Peter Patlee, a former acquaintance of your father.”

  Ask and ye shall receive. The day was full of surprises. It was none other than the man Hazel told me to find. I shook his outstretched hand. “He spoke of you,” I said truthfully. “You’re a collector of Aztec antiquities?”

  “Among other things,” Peter said. “But that’s how your father knew me. I’m sorry for your loss. Butch Ashford was a genuine treasure. Any man who spent his life uncovering and preserving my ancestor’s heritage has my eternal gratitude.”

  The flowery buttering up left me feeling uneasy. It meant he wanted something. Hopefully, he would get to that point sooner rather than later. “Thanks for the kind words.” Outside of some freelance work he did for the guy, my father had barely mentioned Peter Patlee. I had no reason to distrust him or trust him, but my instincts screamed at me to run. “What brings you here?”

  His warm smile never faded. “In honor of your recent discovery, I would like to invite you to our annual masquerade ball. Selfishly, I’m hoping you’ll accept so that you might enlighten me on what treasures the ship contained.”