Miami Spice

by Deborah Merrell

  “Oh, this is spectacular! It’s as if we’re in Tahiti!” Opening wide the louvered doors, Erica breathed in the tangy scent of the sea.

  Nico’s arms soon circled her waist, and he nuzzled her ear. “You’re much more spectacular, my dear.”

  She gave him a provocative brush along his groin. “Flatterer!”

  “Teaser!”

  “Strip or cock?” She laughed.

  “You tell me.”

  After turning her around, he pulled Erica against him and sought her mouth for a long, intoxicating kiss. This time she didn’t need to do a provocative rub to produce the desired effects. His cock strained mightily against the fly of his khaki shorts. In order to help the poor man out, she quickly unzipped and released him. The feel of smooth flesh over the hard core of his cock only served to inflame her more, while her own pelvis burned with an intensity to rival the midday sun.

  Soon their hands clawed at fabric until Nico had Erica’s dress bunched up to her hips and he pulled his pants down and flipped them away. Suddenly, their need became too great to take to the bed. Instead, he hiked her against one of the louvered doors and allowed her to ring her bare legs around his waist before he plunged inside. While Nico thrust and parried with quick strokes, their mouths dueled in a frenzied give and take.

  The trade winds caressed their bodies as they continued to stoke their arousal. When Erica moaned with growing excitement, Nico began to drill with deeper thrusts. To increase his pleasure, she ran her tongue along his neck and sucked at his warm, silky skin. She felt him shiver with her efforts; and, in turn, he placed his cheek to hers and nibbled at her ear. She tightened her arms around his neck and rode him with her own fury as she worked her way to climax. His arms, back, and thighs became a mass of terse muscles as he, too, sought fulfillment.

  “Oh, baby,” he groaned. “I’m going to jack right now and take you with me. I want you to come all over my cock with your hot, hot juices.”

  “Yes, yes,” Erica murmured as Nico gave one last thrust, forceful enough to knock her and the door against a nearby accent table. As the vase of flowers clattered to the floor with a tinkle of glass, they came together in a shuddering, mutual explosion.

  “Oh, oh,” she finally gasped, “I think we might have broken something.”

  “Besides my back,” he chuckled. “That’s okay, we’ll put it on our tab.”

  With Erica still wrapped around him, Nico took them the queen-sized bed and laid her gently along the batik spread. Yet before he could pull away, she grabbed him by the shirt lapels and pulled him across her prone body. Mouths sought and found each other once more, this time in a slow, enduring embrace of lips and tongues until they both came up for air.

  Nico peered into her eyes. “Well, now that we’ve taken care of those preliminary lusts, how about starting our little holiday?”

  Jumping up, he went to his canvas travel bag, delved inside, and brought over a shirt box. “For you, my dear,” he announced as his eyes gleamed with anticipation. “A little present to start the weekend off just right.”

  Coming to the edge of the bed, Erica eagerly accepted her gift and opened the box. The silken folds of a short, rose-hued negligee with antique lace caught more than her attention as she draped it up and across her breasts. She couldn’t believe her lover’s generous and romantic gift.

  Now she tried to blink back her tears of joy. “Oh, thank you, Nico, it’s absolutely beautiful!”

  A slight blush worked up his neck as he accepted her hug and kiss of gratitude. “Oh, querida,” he murmured as he gently pulled away. “I’m glad you like it, but if we keep this up, we’ll never leave the room.”

  “Is that so bad?” she countered playfully, anxious to try on her new teddy.

  Nico patted his stomach. “Let’s eat first. I need to regain my strength if I’m going to keep up with your libido.”

  Erica’s joy translated to a wide smile. “Well then, lead on, oh kindred cachondoro, lead on!”

  Grinning, he took her by the hand. “Horny one, huh? We’ll see about that later, after we get our collective strengths back.”

  Glorious, fabulous, magical, ethereal. Erica used most of her superlative repertoire to describe those three wonderful, stunning days of bliss. They dined on seafood and drank wine, usually at candlelit tables for two. Mornings found them strolling the beach, swimming in the waves, or visiting the art galleries and antique shops. In the afternoons, Erica and Nico lay entwined in the B& B’s backyard hammock, either napping or swinging lazily between the palmetto trees. Of course, they made love as circumstances and stamina allowed.

  By Sunday evening, as they traveled the coastal highway on their return to Miami, Erica gave a sigh of regret. She regretted they couldn’t stay longer or relive this special time together. Perhaps, some things just weren’t meant to be duplicated. Instead, those memories remained an intrinsic part of a person’s future happiness. At least, she hoped so. Now, as she sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, Erica idly fingered the Tahitian-patterned scarf around her neck, another sweet gift from Nico.

  “Say, is there any more of that fudge left?” he asked as he drove. On a whim, they had bought a box of the decadent homemade stuff at a gift shop, half praline silk, the other marbled mocha.

  “Sure, which one?”

  He flicked his eyes her way. “Surprise me.”

  After she pulled out a praline square and handed it over, Nico took a bite before he spoke again. “Erica, I have a confession to make.”

  “Oh?” She tried to keep her eyes focused on the road ahead.

  “I have to leave tomorrow. My business calls, and I’ve already neglected a couple of my clients.”

  She felt as if her lover had just taken a stiletto blade and slipped it right through her heart. But what had she expected? He lived up north, Erica lived here. In all their time together, they had never discussed taking the relationship on to the next level—whatever that may be.

  She choked back the bile. “Oh, well, I understand. I was hoping you’d be my date at my cousin’s wedding. It’s in two weeks. She’s having a traditional Cuban fiesta, with lots of food, salsa dancing, and all that good stuff.”

  “Sounds great.” Nico skipped a beat before he spoke again. “If I can’t rearrange my schedule, do you plan to go with your sister?”

  “Actually, no. Mari told me the station is sending her on an assignment to Tallahassee that weekend. It’s her first major story. Although she’ll miss the wedding, she’s just too excited about this trip.”

  “Wow, that’s a great break for her. Well then.”

  When Erica ventured to look his way, she could almost see him flipping through his mental appointment book. “I believe I can shuffle things around so I can spend the weekend with you. How’s that? Sorry, I can’t be more definite.”

  She found herself grinning after all. “No, actually, that’s great! The first weekend in June. Do you own a pair of white slacks and a guayabera shirt? How about a pair of huaraches?”

  “I’m not sure,” he chuckled. “I’ll have to ransack my wardrobe.”

  “Well, that’s what most of the men will be wearing, or even jeans. The reception is very informal, but it all boils down to a terrific time.”

  Nico indulged in a quick glance. “Maybe give us ideas.”

  Suddenly, Erica felt her heart rev up. She smiled. “You never know.”

  * * *

  Her cousin Maya had booked the terrace of Las Palmas Hotel. Now as night approached, the marimba band took over the festivities with festive salsa music. The trees had been decorated with hundreds of twinkling little lights, and a variety of colorful piñatas hung from ropes above the wedding crowd. The main buffet table held a vast variety of foods, and a sweet Madeira wine fell from a silver fountain and into a pool of sliced fruits. The most unusual feature had to be the huge bird cage filled with bright multi-hued parrots and a few macaws.

  “Well? What do you think?” As she spoke, Erica lea
ned back in her padded chair and fingered one of the wedding cookies from the bowl next to her.

  “The night is still young, and amor fills the air.” Laughing, Nico tapped the table to the beat of the band’s conga drum. “Unless you want to eat some more.”

  She glanced at the near-empty china plates before them. They had both over-indulged on the spicy shredded pork, red enchiladas, the frijoles boracho, chicken and red rice, the fried plantains, and the various island fruit salads.

  “In a minute,” he continued. “I just might have the energy to join the happy couple.”

  Erica’s gaze followed Nico’s as they watched Maya and her new husband, Tomás, do a feisty two-step for their wedding dance. Soon other couples joined in.

  Relaxing for the moment, Erica felt a wonderful calm settle over her, and not just from the wine. She had to be the luckiest woman in el mundo! Nico Sloan, in his casual guayabera shirt and jeans, had to be the best-looking guy here, even surpassing the groom in his white suit. Nico had even found a pair of huaraches, and added a small gold ring to his left ear to match the gold chain around his neck. Funny, but Erica didn’t recall seeing a pierced opening on his lobe before, though she hadn’t really paid too much attention to his upper body except for his gorgeous hair, face and mouth.

  Of course, the minute he spied her when he came to pick her up for the wedding, Nico produced a low whistle of appreciation. For the occasion, Erica chose to wear her hair back in a tight chignon and added a hair pick of silk, exotic plumeria on the side. The sarong dress, in pink floral voile, set off her curves nicely, while the gold sandal pumps were comfortable enough to kick up her heels all night.

  Her own family, the Rael clan, were quite taken with Nico, but Erica refused to spend the rest of the evening in the company of her mother and aunt who would pepper her with a myriad of pointed questions. Tía Yolanda had the bad habit of dousing her niece with questions like the hot chili flakes she added liberally to her spicy caldo. Olga Rael’s maternal gaze certainly sized Nico up for her possible son-in-law; but in order to tone down the effects of her family’s meddling, Erica had purposely steered them to a table far from family members.

  Now Nico gripped her hand. “You do know, it’s a tossup between you and your mother who gets the first dance with me.”

  “Oh, please!” she countered lightly. “The more you indulge mi mamá, the more she’ll drive me crazy. Do you know, she already has the tux picked out for you. The church, too, I imagine.”

  “A tux, huh?” He laughed. “I thought we’d marry sans the traditional wardrobe with the bride in a towel marked Hers and the groom in one marked His. Saves time during the honeymoon.”

  Even though she chuckled along, Erica felt a twinge of apprehension. She didn’t want to give him the idea she planned to move them into a permanent arrangement—or allow her mother to do so on her daughter’s behalf.

  Before Erica had time to form an answer, Nico took her hand and led her to the dance floor. They started with a corrida, moved on to a cumbia, and then to an old-fashioned, rock and roll dance. When the band segued into a slow Spanish ballad, Nico brought her close, and Erica easily molded her body and steps to his own.

  Surprisingly, he whispered along to the Spanish lyrics, and Erica shivered with a newfound appreciation for his many assets. “So, you know this song?”

  “I know many things, querida,” he cooed in her ear. “I have only just begun to give you a sample of my varied talents.”

  “Sounds exciting.” She nuzzled against his cheek and savored his cologne. “I can’t wait!”

  “Spontaneity is my stock-in-trade. What do you say we try skinny dipping in the pool later on?”

  Erica knitted her brows as she had a quick thought. “Don’t we have to be guests of the hotel?”

  “That can be arranged. If the married couple have the honeymoon suite tonight, we can ask for the other VIP room, the Horny Guests Who Need a Bed suite.”

  Tilting her head, she laughed. “Is that the one with the mirrored ceiling, the vibrating bed and the hot tub in the shape of a huge champagne glass?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Although,” she reasoned, “I think Maya and Tomás are taking a midnight flight to Cancun. That honeymoon suite may be available after all.”

  Pulling away to look into her eyes, Nico smiled. “We can always check in as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, who were just married today.”

  “Juan or John Smith?” she added breezily,

  “Juan and Maria, of course.”

  “Of course!”

  “All right!” As soon as the band whipped into a lively country-western number, Nico kicked up his heels. “Texas honky tonk! Come on!”

  As she allowed him to guide her, Erica soon twirled and jitterbugged like a pro. By the time the song ended, she had to catch her breath. “Time out!” she called and allowed Nico to lead her back to their table.

  “Más vino?” he asked as he picked up her goblet.

  For an instance, she thought of tempering her alcohol intake, but tonight seemed so special, so free and dangerously impetuous, that she held no reservations when it came to agreeing to his suggestion. “Go for it, mi bobo bailando!”

  “Dancing fool, huh?” Nico chuckled as he started for the buffet. “Just you wait, mi dama linda! I’ll have you begging for more!”

  Beautiful lady... Erica certainly would beg for more as soon as she found the first opportunity to be alone with her charming date. Of course, two could play that game. She’d make sure to have Nico Sloan, alias Juan Smith, begging for deliverance after her slow, seductive tortures!

  * * *

  From the side of the bubbling hot tub Erica and Nico watched the wedding guests go crazy as they tried to whack open the papier-mâché piñatas. Those who finally succeeded became doused in a shower of candies and little gifts. By now, the bride and groom had left to change in their hotel suite and take a limo ride to the airport, where they would be off on their month-long honeymoon of sun and surf.

  “Ah, this is much better,” Nico commented as he enjoyed the water beside her. Since they had the tub to themselves, they threw caution to the wind and plunged in sans bathing suits. “I’d much rather watch the borrachones than join in the fun.”

  “Just wait until my Uncle Miguel starts balancing a wine glass on his big nose while he dances. But I don’t think he’s quite soused enough yet to start the entertainment.”

  As she spoke, Erica cuddled up to his naked hip. The couple had checked in earlier as Mr. and Mrs. Juan Smith and looked forward to taking advantage of the hotel’s amenities. A bottle of premium champagne, a king-sized bed and satin pillows awaited them in Room 1210 of a Las Palmas suite. Despite Erica’s protests over the expense, Nico insisted they share the night together in style, his treat. With this, plus their weekend at the B&B, the costs added up considerably, yet Nico insisted on giving Erica the royal treatment. For a split second, she wondered if she could live up to his expectations; or, heaven forbid, give him what he expected in return. Of course, she had no idea what that might be.

  Nico quickly scooted behind her and clasped Erica around the waist. “I’d make love to you right here,” he murmured against her damp hair, “but I’m spontaneous only to a degree. I don’t want to get us kicked out of here for lewd and lascivious behavior.”

  She rubbed his groin with her derrière and felt the sudden rise of his cock. “I thought honeymooners were supposed to be lewd and lascivious.”

  “I think that’s reserved for more private encounters. I’d hate for your aunt to come walking this way and spy us in the middle of our own entertainment.”

  “She knows we’re having much more fun, but you’re right. Besides—” Erica pulled away from her gentle stimulation. “—my family invited us for brunch here tomorrow morning. The hotel serves a fabulous buffet. I told them yes. It’s that all right?”

  “Of course, mi amor. Your aunt and uncle came all the way from North Carolina for the weddin
g. They want to see their sobrina before they leave.”

  Turning and placing her arms around his shoulders, she nuzzled her wet nose against his. “Why are you so wonderful, Adriano Sloan?”

  “Whoops! You have the wrong man. I’m Juan Smith, remember?”

  “You could be Don Juan for all I care.”

  Clutching his head, Erica pressed her mouth to his in a fervent kiss. The combination of his warm, tender lips and the bubbles around them put her in a heady, glorious mood. Within seconds, his stiffened cock joined in the embrace by pressing against her abdomen.

  When they finally broke the kiss, she smiled. “I think we’d better get upstairs before Juan, Jr. gets out of control.”

  “He can’t help himself. The sight, feel, sound, taste and smell of a gorgeous woman push him over the top with excitement. You definitely qualify on all counts.”

  Reaching under the water for his hand, Erica brushed his excited penis in the process. She couldn’t help but giggle. “Then come on, Juan Senior, and son, what are we waiting for?”

  * * *

  Bodies, limbs, lips, flesh. Between the satin sheets, they converged in a wondrous, passionate embrace. They did their own dance, to music only they could hear. Bodies moved to a magic salsa rhythm, undulated and flowed with sweet melodies. Limbs and flesh met and melted over and over. Erica had never felt so alive as his taste, smell and feel became an exquisite part of her. His essence, too, pumped into her as hands and mouths turned hot, sticky and greedy. All together it served to fuel her, pulsating through her body like a slap of pure adrenaline.

  And Nico became a formidable force as well, delving, thrusting and pummeling with his incredible cock, not once, but twice as they responded to their resurging dance with cries of elation, fulfillment, and ultimately laughter. Her heart soared along with his, and they enjoyed their own private song too beautiful for mere words.

  When they felt strong again, the couple shared an intimate bath in the garden tub, surrounded by bowls of orange blossoms and scented candles. Somehow, the champagne remained unopened as they fell into the cool sheets and into a lovely, entwined sleep.