Dirty Trick

by Mickey Miller

  Crystal pinched the bridge of her nose. “Disney now?”

  “Don’t you feel a little like Princess Jasmine? But with those fun bags and that blonde hair, you make a piss poor Jasmine.”

  “You’re so crude,” Crystal hissed as she climbed on behind me. Her knees branched around my hips. “Wait one second.” From her non-fun bag, that Kate Spade purse of hers, she pulled out a ridiculously oversized pair of Zelda Fitzgerald style sunglasses.

  “Closer,” I commanded.

  Crystal tensed, her manicured nails drove into my shoulders, but she obliged. She slid close until she gave me exactly what I wanted: those supersized tits pressed against my spine. Feck, if that didn’t give me a chub I’d have to check my neck for a pulse. I could practically feel her nipples pressing into my chest.

  “I hate you right now,” she murmured in my ear. Her silky, petulant voice turned my half-hard dick into a raging tentpole.

  “Shh. I know you want to see the shiny shimmering pleasure.” I warbled off-key to her.

  She sighed. “It’s shiny shimmering splendid. Did you not have the Disney sing-along tape as a kid?”

  “Oh, is it splendid? I like pleasure so much more.”

  I smiled as I revved the engine. This was going to be a fun ride.

  For me, at least.

  For the next half hour, we drove mostly in silence out of the main town of the island and though the back roads. For the first few minutes, Crystal’s body was tensed against mine, as if she was purposefully stiffening her body as not to give into me. Once we got to the rural parts of the road, she squeezed my sides harder.

  I didn’t hate the feeling. I felt so free as we sped along the country roads of green. Hell, it almost reminded me a little of the verdant pastures I grew up roaming back in Ireland. Though no green would ever match the deep emerald green after a rainstorm in my homeland.

  “What are those?” Crystal asked, pointing a hand out to the side of the road. “They look like huge rock statues. They’re everywhere.”

  “Those huge rocks are the moai. They weigh up to 20 tons each.”

  She was silent for a moment.

  “How on earth did they move those?”

  “The mana, Princess.”

  “The what? Wait, did you just call me Princess again? We are not making that a thing.” She pinched my side, and I deliberately swayed the bike, making her squeal and clutch at me.

  I laughed as I eased the Harley to a stop so we could look out at the grassy field to our left, which was littered with the huge statues. They were lined up perfectly, as if whatever power that moved them into place had laid a ruler out. In the late afternoon sun, their shadows grew long.

  Without getting off the vehicle, I explained, “The mana that I told you about. The magical force. The ancients moved those rocks with the magical force of the mana.”

  I glanced behind my back to gauge her facial expression. As I expected, she was pursing her lips. “The magic joke was funny once. You’ve got to stop it. It wasn’t funny the first time, and it’s still not funny.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and lifted my sunglasses to get a better view of the things. “Oh, but I’m being quite serious, Princess. Scholars have tried to determine how they moved the statutes. They are all over the island, but the type of volcanic rock they used to carve them is only found on the west end.”

  Her arms were still wrapped around my torso, and it wasn’t lost on me that she could have let go at any time since we were at a standstill. Instead, her grip tightened.

  “Magic doesn’t exist. Stop freaking me out. Can we just go back already? I don’t like this.” There was a desperation in her voice as it broke. I hadn’t heard that before.

  What secret was she hiding? Her reaction struck me as wrong. Then, my mind shifted to how she would sound making those noises underneath mine.

  Her soft, curvy body was soft in comparison to my rock-hard frame. When I was preparing for a fight I kept myself lean, and since I had just fought Woodley and was now preparing to fight Toro, I was under five percent body fat. I was a sinewy counterpoint to her feminine body, and already burned to lose myself in her buxom curves.

  As she dug her chin into my shoulder, a strain of vulnerability seeped out. Maybe it was just that it was the first day here and she was getting adjusted. Long flights to the opposite hemisphere had the ability to mess with a person’s body chemistry. I sensed that I’d touched a deeper nerve with Crystal, though.

  “One more stop and we’ll go back,” I said firmly, in a tone that left no room for debate. “Since you don’t believe in it, I’ve got to show you something.”

  “Okay,” she breathed back silently to me, and I headed for the far west side of the island where there were almost no inhabitants left.

  At least, I hoped to God Julio was still there.

  I was going to need him to help me keep my own mana straight over these next sixty days.

  When we pulled up to the only house on the west side of the island, though the thatch-roofed abode was closer to a shack than a true house, Crystal let out a laugh.

  “This is the mana?” she asked, somewhat rhetorically.

  “Don’t be talking like that here, Princess.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed deeply as I helped her off the motorcycle.

  Julio’s tiny wooden cabin was almost the same as I’d left it five years ago. Tiny. Dilapidated. If not for the single giant tree next to it, would take a beating from the sun all day every day. The west side of the island had been filled with trees hundreds of years ago. Now there were under one hundred, despite efforts to replant.

  Crystal looked like she was trying to stay balanced on a tightrope as she walked through the dirt in her heels. We paused on the rock patio. I lifted my hand to knock, but didn’t. “Let me do the talking while we’re here.”

  “Why?” She arched an eyebrow. “Is it bad island juju?”

  I took a deep breath, refusing to rise to the bait, and raised my fist to knock.

  “Come in,” a voice said before I could rap on the door. I pushed the flimsy door open.

  Julio sat in the middle of the room in a thickly padded chair, his cane in his hand. Like mine, Julio’s cabin was tiny. He faced away from us, instead looking out the window that aimed toward the Pacific Ocean. This was his daily form of mediation.

  “Would you like some tea, Connor? Or the girl?” he asked without turning around. “She’s gorgeous, by the way. Isn’t she. The mana isn’t very strong though.”

  Crystal’s eyes went wide. “How do you know about my mana?” She breathed.

  Julio stood up from his chair with concerted effort. I jumped forward to help the man walk, but he declined, raising a hand. “Please. I’ve been doing this for five years without you. I’ll be fine.” I glanced at the man’s eyes, and they were just as I’d left him five years ago, clouded. I’d begged, pleaded with him to get cataract surgery, but he’d declined, saying he did everything by feel anyhow. As a result, he had gone damn near blind. It broke my fucking heart, but it was what the old man wanted. And I knew Julio well enough to realize he wouldn’t be changing his ways any time soon.

  He ambled over to a corner of his room, turned one of the nozzles of the gas stove to start the water boiling.

  “Crystal, the mana is everywhere. If one only takes the time to truly sense the world around them, she would feel it. The force of nature intertwining with our very inner workings. Not only are the mind and the body one entity, but the world around us as well.”

  She put a palm over her chest, and pulled free a delicate golden cross necklace, one I hadn’t noticed before since she kept it hidden. Interesting, was her religion why she refused to believe in the mana?

  She absently fondled the cross pendant. “Okay stop it you two. How did you know my name? Did Connor work this out with you before?”

  Julio reached into an overhead cabinet, took out a bag of loose green tea leaves, and put two scoops of the stuff i
nto a gourd. To his left, he plucked a metal straw with a filter. I marveled that every movement he made was with an expert precision, maximizing efficiency. As blind as he was, he knew every single step he had to take. Even at his advanced age he practiced what he taught.

  Not a single ounce of energy was lost. He lived his life the way I fought in the ring. No energy lost. No wasted movements. Where the opposition saw swagger, I saw technique: systematic intimidation of the enemy.

  I had Julio to thank for that. Without him I wouldn’t have had my resurrection, or be the fighter I was today.

  Crystal watched him, too. I wondered what was going on in that gorgeous head of hers. I stared at her, so out of place in that fancy cream-colored dress of hers which reminded me of melted vanilla ice cream, holding a Kate Spade portfolio bag. Talk about mana. She must have been born on voluptuous curves day. She was fucking perfect.

  I snapped back to Julio, who was already ambling toward us with the teapot and the gourd with the metal straw poking out of it.

  “Sit,” Julio spoke with a curt nod toward the two wooden chairs in front of us. I pulled up a third for him, and put the tea stool in the center. “Let’s drink mate’.”

  He filled the gourd halfway, took a pull, then spit it out right on the brick floor, as was customary.

  Crystal lurched back in her chair and angled her heels away from the mess. “What did you do that for?! Gross!”

  “The first round of tea is too strong,” I explained. “It’s actually a form of politeness to spit it out like that.”

  “First round? What do you mean?”

  Julio poured another half cup and handed it to me. “Each person gets one round. We rotate. It’s an old ritual.”

  “You mean I have to share germs with you?”

  “Yes.” I sipped my portion and handed it back to Julio. He refilled it for Crystal’s turn.

  “What does it taste like?” She asked, not waiting for my response before taking a sip. Her face turned red when she did.

  “Oh, my God! It’s so hot, and bitter!”

  I laughed. Hearing those words come out of her mouth reminded me how dirty my mind was. If I had her suck something else, would she squeal and spit, or swallow like a good girl?

  “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to have it.”

  “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude.”

  To her credit, she finished her round before handing the gourd back to Julio.

  “Connor, it is good to have you here again,” Julio said while he poured his own portion of tea.

  “Wait, so how do you two know each other?” Crystal asked.

  “Five years ago, Connor appeared on my doorstep looking for meaning. It was the middle of the night. He’d been walking all over the island for three days looking for someone he didn’t know. He’d only heard my name spoken in the town. Imagine that!” Julio let out his patented three-chuckle laugh. He rarely used it, as if with his old age, he had a finite number of chuckles left to give the world. I smiled that my quest for meaning five years ago had been ridiculous enough he could laugh at it now. Julio kept pouring the tea as we spoke.

  “You came here five years ago,” she said with a slow nod. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “And five years ago, you lost your match to Toro. Interesting.”

  “The mana is strong, so strong I can feel it, Connor. Yet I’m also sensing a threat to it.”

  I swallowed. “A threat?”

  “Yes.” He closed his eyes as he took his turn to sip the tea again. “A two-headed bull. One head is an old challenge, and one a new. The only way to defeat it is to rush, head on, into uncertain territory.”

  A whoosh of air went out of me. Julio was never wrong. I knew Easter Island wouldn’t be easy. Now I had to figure out what the hell Julio’s riddle meant this time. I’d cracked it five years ago, though it had almost cost me my life.

  “And you,” he said, turning to Crystal and handing her the gourd. “My, oh my. What an energy, a uniqueness you have coming from you. It’s incredible. Unlike anything I’ve ever been in the presence of. Your warmth and your--mana. It is low, but great potential there. Oh, my.”

  Crystal stared vigilantly at Julio while she sipped the warm liquid. Her lips wrapped around the metal straw left an imprint of red lipstick on the silver when she gave it back. Briefly my mind offered up the image of Crystal on her knees, leaving that same cherry-red stain around my cock. It was an ongoing fantasy of mine.

  I thought about cracking another mana joke, but I knew this wasn’t the time. Maybe fate had brought us together for me as much as her. Sure, I knew Crystal was hot as fuck and had a mysterious aura about her, but the reality was I knew next to nothing about her past.

  So, I shut up for once and drank my tea while Julio ran a hand through his beard, then pointed it at her. “For you, the answer you seek is in the stars.”

  Crystal’s shoulders dropped. Her eyes bulged so much I was afraid they’d pop out of her head.

  She stood up.

  “Thank you for having us, sir. We need to go now.”

  “But we’ve hardly even gotten--”

  “I said, we need to go.” I maybe act daft sometimes, but there was no doubt that he’d touched a nerve deep inside Crystal. I wondered what secrets a beauty like her could be hiding.

  A ran a hand through my hair and stood up. I handed the tea back to Julio. “Thank you. I’m here for sixty days. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “See you soon,” he mimicked, and then let out his hearty three chuckle laugh.

  Oh yeah. The man can’t see.

  What a shame. Because Crystal was glorious to look at. Something told me I needed to delve beneath her surface.

  8 - Crystal

  Was Connor fucking with me? I couldn’t tell. He was so earnest with his belief on the ‘mana’, but I didn’t think he was a true believer in “magic” until he sprung that visit with Julio on me.

  It made me uncomfortable. Not because I didn’t believe it, but because I wasn’t sure what I believed.

  I was already perched on the back of the Harley by the time Connor joined me. Julio stood in the door behind him, his blind eyes seeing far too much. He’d look straight through the artifice that I donned myself with, and made me feel like a little girl again stuck in nowhere Mississippi. The south was filled with superstition and tradition, and my little hometown of Beaumont was no different.

  I looked away, hiding my reaction behind a pair of sunglasses, and ignored them both. If Connor would stop with stories about the Moai statues I might be able to enjoy Easter Island. Instead, every time I looked at the huge volcanic stone figures a shudder raced down my spine.

  Connor swung his lean legs over the motorcycle and revved the engine. He turned halfway in his seat, and pierced me with his hazel eyes. “That was rude, Princess.”

  “Just drive.”

  The motorcycle lurched and I slid into him, once more holding onto him tightly. Our drive out to the far reaches of the island had almost been idyllic. The drive back to our hut was terse. My tension fed his and then reflected into me until a knot formed between my shoulders.

  Finally, with the late afternoon sun bright on the horizon, we arrived at the fishing village that Connor had chosen for his home away from home. Knowing that he’d been on the island five years ago, it made a bit more sense to me that he would knew the ins and out, and maybe why he had chosen this God forsaken place as the place to regain his crown.

  The engine purred beneath me as I slid off the back of the bike. He gave me a quick nod, and then he pulled off, leaving a puff of dirt behind him.

  I sighed. This was going to make sharing living space with him difficult. But, maybe this was for the best, right? If he was angry at me, and I was angry at him, this attraction I felt towards him would die.

  Lord, I hoped so.

  I gazed towards the crest of the volcano that the island was mostly made up of. Clutching my necklace again, I shoved all thoug
hts of mana and stupid magic beliefs out of my head, and stomped towards the hut.

  After organizing my things for an hour or so in the place, I stepped back outside to get some fresh air. I’d been wondering why Connor took so long to come back inside, and when I went out I had my answer.

  He was standing in what looked to me like a yoga pose. His eyes were closed, and he was facing the direction of the sunset. He stood on one foot only, his arms together like a tree. He had on only his short fighting shorts, and they left extremely little to the imagination. I took a moment to admire the way he was made. He was unique, that was for certain. Then again, you didn’t get to be one of the best MMA fighters of all time by following the status quo.

  And you certainly didn’t get abs like that by following the status quo, either. “Connor? What are you doing.”

  He calmly opened his eyes and let his foot down. “The limalama.”

  “What did you just say? Lima beans? What does that even mean?”

  In a series of many quick dodges, ducks, and jumps, he danced his way toward me. My pulse soared as he quickly jumped his way toward me, pausing only inches before touching me. He stood in front of me, bearing his sweaty, ripped chest.

  “The Limalama is the ancient art of self-defense taught on this island. It’s part dance, part attack.”

  You left out part sexy man. “Well, it’s an...interesting technique.”

  “It is. Now if you don’t mind, I can’t be staring at you while I’m in the middle of my training. You’re quite gorgeous, and it’s incredibly distracting.”

  If he wasn’t hot as hell with a pretty Irish accent, I might have been taken aback that he’d just blatantly called me sexy. “Oh? Well I’m sorry for breathing and distracting you.”

  “Look, Crystal, now I like you, don’t get me wrong. But this is the fight of my fucking life coming up in sixty days. And if I don’t stick to my training regimen, I’m not going to be in peak shape. Now please, leave me alone so I can be in peace with the mana.”