Splash

by Kristen Kelly

  "So, do you think it was worth it? I mean if he found out she was crazy and all that?"

  "Probably not," Turner admitted. "It just got me to thinking what if she hadn't been crazy? What if she was…great, ya know?"

  Turner groaned and held his head. His memory fuzzy, he could not remember paying for the last couple of drinks. Reaching inside his pocket for a credit card, his fist curled around his money clip. He slid two hundred-dollar bills toward the bartender this time. He handed one back to him.

  "But you don't want to get married," the bartender said doubtfully.

  "I don’t know what I want but I’ll tell you one thing. It does make me curious as to why a man would do it in the first place,"

  The bartender took a rag from his shoulder and wiped down the bar. He wiped the insides of several shot glasses then placed them beneath the bar. "Hate to tell you this, son but takes a lot longer than three weeks, never mind three days, with a woman to make a relationship work."

  "So I've heard."

  "So what's up with you anyway? You've been sitting there for over four hours."

  So that's how long it's been.

  Turner shrugged. "Long story."

  "Am I right in thinking you have lady troubles?”

  Turner uttered a noncommittal grunt. "You could say that but it's not what you think. I'm not the one with a problem."

  "I'm listening."

  "I need to get Sam back on the right track."

  "Your twin," said the bartender lifting Turner's glass. He swiped a rag below it.

  "I don't know if you can understand.”

  “Sure I can.”

  “Got any siblings?” Turner asked.

  "One sister. Lives in England." He jutted his chin toward the door as if she was right outside. "Don't know what I'd do if something happened to Jenny. We're aint twins, mind you but I am her big brother." He chuckled. "I remember the first time a guy didn't do right by my Jenny. He still walks with a limp.”

  Turner gave him a knowing smile. "So you know what I mean."

  "Sure, mate. What did you mean when you said your brother was off the tacs."

  "Track," Turner corrected. "My brother is off the tracks."

  "Oh."

  "Means he's kind of screwed up." Turner picked up his glass. He swirled the ice cubes around, enjoying the clinking sound. Without asking, the bartender refilled it in mid-air.

  Understanding registered on the bartender’s face. "Oh. Like a train off its tracks."

  "Yeah."

  "And somehow you feel responsible for your twin. Why is that? You're both grown men. You own your own business. What makes you think you have to take care of each other?"

  Wouldn’t that be a kicker? Someone taking care of me!

  "Sam was always the more tender hearted of us both but he was a dare devil too. When I was ten, I got a bicycle but Sam wanted a mini-bike. And he wasn’t afraid of anything. We were just little kids and here was my brother at ten years old setting up barrels in the back woods to jump his mini-bike over. I remember one time, he did it blind folded! Anyway, we were playing on our swings one day when a police car pulled into the driveway. I didn’t pay any attention to it because my father had friends who were cops but Sam was fascinated. He went to see what was up.”

  “You didn’t follow?”

  “Nah, we had a new puppy and I was all about that dog, so I stayed put.”

  “Why were the cops at your house?”

  Turner dropped his gaze toward the glass. “My parents were killed in an accident. They came to deliver the news.”

  “Awe, that’s rough.”

  “Yeah, well, our uncle…tough old bird…thought Sam could handle it like a man because of how brave he was.”

  “But he was only a kid.”

  “Exactly, and this was different. When Sam heard about our parents, he ran away. The police looked everywhere No one knew where he was for eighteen hours and…”

  “You found him, right?”

  “Not at first but then I remembered how much he actually liked the dark. Said it was where nothing could ever hurt him.”

  The bartender half chuckled. “Opposite of what some people think about dark places.”

  “Yeah, well Sam was different.”

  “So where did they find him?”

  “In a cave,” Turner said. “Ever heard of Howe Caverns?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I…we…actually own that cave. Big tourist attraction in New York.”

  “And that’s where your brother was hiding out?”

  “Yup. I’ve been protective of him ever since. We're all each other have in this world.” He took another drink. “You have any siblings?"

  The bartender murmured in agreement. "A sister. We were raised by a single mother. I'd kill anyone who'd try and hurt my sister, Jenny."

  "Well I don't want to hurt anyone. I just need Sam to stop blaming himself."

  "For what?"

  "The death of his wife and son."

  "Maybe you shouldn’t try. A man has to come to terms in this life all on his own."

  "I thought about that but …"

  "But what?"

  " Let's just say I don’t want to go to another funeral."

  Chapter 2

  Valentina Rosita Rodriquez flinched but it was too late.

  Her ex-husband's sperm was in her hair. In her fucking hair!

  She scooted backwards, for all the good it did, his frenzied solid hips still pumping away like in mid air.

  “Diego!”

  Hot thick cum spurt like an exploding geyser, hitting cheek, breast and thighs. At least she'd turned her face away, avoiding a full frontal assault. Knees still sunk into the soft plush carpet of the hotel room floor, Val fumed, stung by the fact that her Ex had not even tried to save her what was left of her indignity. She didn’t like sucking him off. She didn’t even like him.

  "Ahhh!" Diego groaned, shaking out the last few drops on the towel by his feet. The towel his seed was supposed to hit. Grinning down at it, he chuckled.

  “You asshole,” Val yelled. She wrinkled her nose, trying to hold back the obscenities she wanted to hurl. After all, it was her own fault. Why the hell did she expect anything different from the man?

  "I am sorry," he said in a low growly voice. "I know you don't like this…this…what I did." He grinned sheepishly and she knew the apology wasn’t sincere. A look of supreme satisfaction and satiated lust etched his ruddy face. Jet black hair glistened above chocolate dark eyes. Diego had been her undoing more than once. She couldn't resist him, nor any man with his sort of charisma. Someone who would wine and dine her. Someone who opened doors and told her she was pretty. Someone who spread it on thick, just for her. Her desire to be wanted put her in hot water more than once yet she never seemed to learn her lesson. Either that, or her hormones got in the way. This time was strictly business, however.

  "I only do this because you say you will help me. The least you could have done was…” Val sneered at the mess all over her body. She wiped it up with the back of the towel best she could. “Never mind Diego. You are a snake. A slithering disgusting snake who only cares about his own pleasures." She had to admit his pleasures had been nice once but that was a long time ago. Now, all she wanted from the man was connections to stay in the United States. That, and the funds to start up her own restaurant. Okay, okay. Sex was a much-needed bonus. Was she really this desperate? And with Diego! It looked as if that little bonus backfired and not in a good way.

  With one large hand splayed across his chest, Diego appeared affronted. "It is not my fault," he explained in his usual Spanish accent. "You are so lovely. You are the one cast a spell on me, Valentina. I don't know my own strength when you are near." He reached for her then, but she shuffled back. He groaned and went red in the face. "Awe, now you make me feel bad. I try to stop. Really I did." He gave himself one last shake and then tucked himself inside his boxers.

  Groaning, she jumped to h
er feet, grabbed his t-shirt from the back of a bedpost. She wiped her face with it and ran to the bathroom, all the while cursing in half Spanish, half English.

  "I said I was sorry," he shouted after her as she whizzed by in a blur of tussled black hair, smooth olive skin, and bouncing bare tits. He smiled at himself in the mirror and sucked in his gut before pulling up a pair of very worn blue jeans with the Puerto Rican flag on the back pocket. "I'm sorry for you too," he added at the top of his lungs while zipping up his fly.

  Val knew exactly what he meant. Once the man was done, he was done. Nothing could raise that monster from the dead, not for at least twenty-four hours. She sighed. Her battery operated boyfriend would be the only one to console her tonight.

  Why the hell had she fallen for his lies? There was no way in hell he could get her another visa to stay in the US. In fact, so many crossed the border illegally; the locals named it The Mexican Freeway. Val had always come to the US the legal way because at least that way she didn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder. She was sick of going back and forth though. Each time she had to start all over again trying to find gainful employment, a place to live, and register with Immigration. She could only stay six to twelve months each time, and that was only if she had a job.

  She came out of the bathroom dressed in her black and white maid's uniform. While rubbing a towel through her hair, she perched herself on the edge of the bed. Why do I let you do this to me…again?" She knew why though. She was using him just as much as he was using her. In addition to the visa, she needed to get laid. It was better to have sex with someone she knew than pick up another man who thought it foreplay to slap her around first. Why were those the ones she was attracted to? Rich powerful men who liked to gamble and drink while having a piece of whatever they could find along the way. What was a girl to do? She worked so much she didn't have time for normal dating and her sexual appetite was off the charts. As a full time employee, the Bellagio was pretty much her home away from home. She even left a toothbrush in one of the bathrooms.

  Diego pulled his Ex-wife onto his lap. He swept a dark tendril from the side of her face. With a soft touch, he traced a finger along her chin. He was about to slide the digit inside her lip when she pushed him away. "It won't work, Diego, so don't even try,” she hissed. In a show of frustration, he threw her off his knees and she rolled onto the bed. Diego man threw up his hands in surrender but made no remark.

  Valentina stood. She smoothed down the ruffles in her black skirt, frowning. "When do I get my money and my visa?"

  Diego reached in his pocket and pulled out a twenty. He threw it on the bed.

  She stared at the currency with contempt. "You think I can start a new life with twenty bucks? You promised me money, Diego."

  Diego shrugged. He tilted his head and the pulled the pockets of his jeans inside out.

  Val looked at him suspiciously. "You're gambling again. Aren't you?"

  "It is a minor interruption in my cash flow. That is all,” Diego said. “But do not fret my sweet, there is a big game at the.. at the…" He snapped his fingers repeatedly as if conjuring up the name of the hotel he needed to recall. "The stratosphere! Yes, that is the name of it."

  A queasy feeling lurched in Val’s stomach. She knew where he was going with this. "I thought you were broke, Diego. How are you going to—oh no! No you don't. Don't look at me like that. I'm the one who's supposed to be getting paid here not the other way around."

  Diego burst out laughing. "For that?" he said looking down his nose at her. "Was good, Val but not ten thousand dollars good." He pulled the whiskers on his chin. "If you had sucked me off proper, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

  "Asshole," she muttered. The orbits of Val's eyes flared. Swallowing her pride, she tried to think of a way out of this mess. If he'd lost all his money, he wasn’t having any of those high stakes poker games right now and if he didn't have anything to bargain with...oh this was worse than she thought."Dammit, Diego. I just paid rent and I've already given my notice here at the hotel. Soon, I will have no job, no money and my visa is running out the end of the month." Her voice had escalated to a primal screech making her tremble with the force of it. She opened and closed her fists several times. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "We had a deal, Diego. I set you up with an empty room every Friday night and you pay me ten grand at the end of the month plus put in a word with Immigration."

  "Er about that," he began lowering his gaze.

  "What? No. You didn't piss off the Immigration officer too. Tell me you didn’t."

  Diego scratched his head. "How did I know he was Jewish?"

  "And the little round thingy on his head wasn’t a giveaway?"

  Diego shrugged. "Some guys are so touchy.” He blew out a breath.

  "What am I supposed to do now?" Her teeth were on edge, her temperature heightened and she felt as if she wanted to jump out of her skin. Must not panic. Not here. Not now. What the hell am I going to do?

  She was looking out the window when a warm hand settled around her waist.

  Not this. Certainly not this.

  He groaned into her hair, his scent laced with cheap beer and male sweat. "Forget what I said, my lovely. You are the best at what you do. The very best." Sweeping her hair out of the way, he nibbled on her ear. “And we can market that.”

  No way!

  "For a moment, she tried to ignore his insinuation. Maybe he had a secret stash somewhere hidden for special clients or, he had a windfall coming in from a foreign investment although she knew he wasn't that kind of criminal. More, Diego was a slam-bam-thank you for your money-man. A card shark, yes but not an intelligent businessperson.

  She shook out of his grasp and turned around, glaring. "Not on your life, Diego," she said quietly, taking a step back.

  "But you have talents we've yet to explore. We could make a beautiful business together, you and I."

  "I am not pimping for you ever again!"

  "Such a dirty word," he said. "I prefer to call it Social Engagement."

  His face was deadpan as he opened up a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth. "Anyway, suit yourself but you’re energy has got me started all over again. Who knew?" He laughed and started to unbutton his pants.

  "I said no, Diego! Not with you. Not with anyone."

  Choosing to ignore her refusal, he sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. He took off his socks and shoes one by one. Then he threw them. The shoes hit the wall with a thunk. Keeping his gaze fixated on Val’s face, he stood, unzipped his pants and they dropped to the floor. "I apologize for before…but just talking to you has me hot all over again. I am new man, I guess." He laughed hysterically.

  "You have got to be kidding,” Val said, keeping her distance.

  "I've a little more energy these days than I used to. Must be this man-juice stuff I be drinking." When he pulled down his briefs, his cock bobbed free, stiff as a frozen trout.

  Is he joking?

  "I'm sure you'll find my performance satisfactory this time," he murmured. Stepping out of his jeans, he took hold of his bouncing semi and waved it at her.

  Val's eyes widened. "You tell me you're flat broke and then you wave that thing at me as if you can make all our problems go away?"

  “Maybe not but sure will be fun trying.” Pausing to pour himself a drink, he downed it one gulp, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy arm, a look of determination aimed in her direction.

  He advanced toward her."My setback is only temporary, Val. Just lend me the money for the big game. In the meantime, let me make it up to you. I owe you one, do I not?"

  Valentina shrunk back. "Not a penny, Diego," she warned.

  “Please,” he begged.

  “No!”

  His face grew hard. He grabbed her wrist, threw her on the bed and then fell on top of her. " I shall have to quench my frustration some other way then," he shouted. His breath was hot on her neck, his breath sour. Her heart thudded
in her chest, her anger flared. My gun! Where the hell is my gun? She’d dropped her purse with the gun in it on a table inside the door. The only way she was reaching it was to fly like the wind but his body felt like a lead weight upon her chest. She could use Yolanda Montez’s super powers right about now.

  Squirming and fighting, she struggled to push him off her but he was far too strong. "Get…off…of me. Get off, you asshole!"

  Diego laughed.

  She felt moisture by her ear and all she could think about was wiping his poisonous saliva from her cheek. She struggled beneath him, tried to unpin her arms but her movements were useless.

  Diego groaned. “Why do you fight me, my sweet?”

  “Get off! Get off me before I kill you,” she screeched. She managed to get one arm free and started pummeling at his back. It only served to make him laugh, however. “Kill me? You wanna kill me?” He laughed again. “Such fire. We are the same you and I. Just accept it.”

  “I am not like you.”

  "Of course you are. We come from the same place. We know what it is like to be poor. I had thought you would be sympathetic to my pain, Val. We are the same!"

  She spit in his face making him reel back slightly in shock."The same? The same! You are a lieing cheating bastard. I am nothing like you."

  Diego groaned with agitation. "I have been very patient with you, Val" he snarled. "But my patience runs low. Very low." Slamming her body down on the bed, he pushed the full force of his body down on top of her. Frantic cold hands pushed up her skirts, grazing her torso with his nails. He managed to tug her panties off with one rip. Hot roaming fingers drove inside her core. "Oh yes. You are so ready for me," he growled. "So ready." He nudged her legs wider. “No!” She struggled, hitting him with her one free arm but it was like flies bouncing off a glass. She could feel him at her entrance.

  Her gaze flicked back and forth around the room. He swiveled on his hip, leaning over for his pants on the floor by the bed. “Protection,” he muttered under his breath.

  Val wriggled a few inches to the right. Her fingers settled around the base of a lamp on the table, but when she pulled on it, something was holding it back. She pulled once more and then again. Finally, it broke free. With all her strength, she brought the lamp down hard over Diego's head.