Bare In Bermuda

by Livia Ellis

  The orgasm that started with his fingers and continued with his mouth concluded like a cliché. Visions of waves smashing against rocks, waterfalls, fountains, champagne corks popping filled her thoughts as her body exploded like a sexual supernova. The physical control she normally held tight to, faded away as her body shivered and twitched. When the sharp burst of her orgasm erupted, her eyes opened for the first time to what being satisfied actually meant. Her skin tingled, her breath only returned when she realized she held a deep inhalation in her lungs.

  Eduardo pulled back and slid on to the seat next to her. She turned her head and looked at him. “Phenomenal.” “You are so good at that, I might just need proof that you're not a gigolo, because I really don't believe that you're a farmer.”

  Eduardo knew describing himself as a farmer might be misleading. Henna, the supposed gynecologist whose last name he still didn't know, was being as cagey as he was. Eventually, one of them would have to open up, and he figured it might be him. But first, he'd need confirmation that she was who she claimed to be. If she wasn't, if somehow she was a woman after his money either on purpose or by coincidence, he'd figure it out soon enough. She knew how to get his attention. That mattered most of all in the back of the car.

  He had felt the energy release from her body at the moment of her orgasm. The satisfaction of being a man enough to make a woman scream created the feeling of both power and control he thought he had lost. He felt more alive in his own skin than he had in two years. “I aim to please.” He leaned over and kissed her softly. “And I am a farmer.”

  “Where are your overalls and plaid shirt?”

  “I'm not that kind of farmer. How many farmers have you actually met?”

  “None actually,” she said. “I'm not a very country sort of person. I grew up in a city. I live in a city. I like cities. Big cities.”

  “Have you ever been to the country? There is something to be said for peace and quiet.”

  “I'm sure there is,” she said. “Bugs and dirt just aren't my thing.” Her nose curled, and she made a small grimace.

  “You're lovely.” It was true. He didn't know who she was, but she'd entered his life with a bang.

  He sat back as she slipped her skirt over her thighs, He reached over and kissed her again, letting his tongue slide into her mouth. Another of those exhalations she made that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a moan passed over his tongue as he kissed her. He opened her mouth wider with his own before plunging his tongue inside.

  With his tongue in her mouth, he took her hand from his thigh and placed it over his erection still tucked away inside his trousers. The pressure of her small hand on his stiff and ready cock sent a pulse up his body that forced his stomach muscles to clench involuntarily. His tongue moved around her mouth and filled it like a small erection. He had proven to her that he could take a less than subtle hint. He hoped she wouldn't disappoint him by needing more of a nudge.

  Immediately, her hand stroked him without requiring any additional prompting. His belt buckle proved to be a tremendous challenge. She broke off their kiss to better concentrate on the mechanics behind unlooping a piece of leather from around a bit of metal.

  “I'll get it,” she grumbled as she worked with both hands. His belt at long last came undone. “I got it! Today a belt. Tomorrow the world!”

  Where had this beguiling, quirky, maddening girl come from? The moment his life found balance once again, there she was, knocking him off of his feet. First, using him as a character in her personal fantasy, then setting his blood on fire, finally having the nerve to accuse him of being a gigolo. What could possibly be next?

  He smiled as his hand reached up and touched her face. “I fear for the world.”

  She blinked but said nothing as his thumb stroked the curve of her bottom lip. Her mouth parted slightly and she suddenly captured his thumb with her lips. A shiver rolled through his body. The message had been received. She knew what he wanted. Her teeth playfully nipped at the tip of his finger, then her whole mouth gave it a tantalizing suck. Her tongue slid over the top of his thumb then swirled down the sides as her hand slid inside his trousers. Her mouth released his thumb, and her hand explored what he had to offer.

  She stroked and fondled him for a moment before pulling her hand away. Quickly, she unbuttoned, then unzipped his trousers. She slid his underwear and trousers enough to free his cock. “Amazing really.” Her eyes and her hand examined him. “You have the biggest penis I have ever seen in my life. You could do porn.”

  He laughed, tilting his head back. “I'll keep that in mind.”

  “Can I be totally honest with you?” The examination concluded, then the vigorous and body thrumming stroking began.

  His breath heaved in and out of his lungs at a faster pace. His heart increased its beats per minute. Slick pre-cum oozed from the slit. “I wish you would.”

  “I really want to blow you, but I'm just not sure about the logistics. Truthfully, I'm just not sure how good of a job...”

  Was she serious? Did she actually think he was going to rate her performance like an Olympic judge? Ten out of ten for hand work, but sadly only a six out of ten for fellatio?

  “Henna, whatever you do is going to be exquisite. There is no right or wrong way. If I am being totally honest, at this point, if you just keep touching me, I'm going to ejaculate in your hand in about two minutes. You worry too much about something that should only be pleasurable.”

  After the negotiations with the woman at the lost baggage, he questioned if Henna might be a bit too concerned about unimportant details and possibly a bit too concerned with things being just so. Warning him of her possible inability to give him a wholly satisfying blowjob because of the size of his cock confirmed that she really did need to let go a little.

  “Fine. I'll do my best.” Her hands lighted on his shoulders then slid up and around his neck until her fingers threaded through his hair. Another sensation he'd forgotten about and was pleased to recall. He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes.

  He shifted slightly, adjusting himself and pulling her closer. Her legs brushed against his as she slid on top of him once again. Her knees moved between his as she knelt on the seat. She leaned against him and looked into his face. He wondered what she saw as she stared into his eyes and studied his features. Whatever it was, she hadn't found it displeasing. Her lips brushed his briefly, then escaped again.

  Slowly, she slinked down his body, grazing against his engorged cock. The air touching the slick, damp tip covered in pre-cum nearly undid him. Henna's touch made him feel like a boy who hadn't learned to control himself.

  With a flick of her hair to one side, Henna got down to business. An involuntary groan of pure pleasure escaped his throat as her tongue drew a line up and down his shaft then swirled around the tip. The performance anxiety that had initially plagued her had been baseless. Her tongue moved like a slick, wet brush and her throat pulled him in like a vacuum while her hand held him like a churning vice.

  “You are very good at this.” A small amount of encouragement hopefully would alleviate any concern she might have about the well-coordinated combination of tongue, lip, and hand she used masterfully on him.

  His head dropped back against the seat as his fingers lightly threaded through her soft auburn hair. He discarded the few pins holding the silky mass in place. The touch of her hair against the bare skin of his thighs and stomach was yet another forgotten sensation.

  “I love your hair.” He gathered two handfuls of her locks and let them slip through his fingers. Not one word of complaint from her about messing up her hair doubled his pleasure. Few things aggravated him as much as a woman who had a head full of glorious hair, but complained about him truly showing his appreciation for the time and effort it took to keep it so glowing and perfect.

  He relaxed into the rhythm of her movements just long enough to appreciate when she switched actions. The hand that gripped him released its hold then reac
hed between his legs and found a spot on his scrotum that fired a shot through his body like a trigger. He took in a deep gasp of air and exhaled slowly. Her lips fluttered around the top of his cock while her fingers pressed and rubbed that previously undiscovered erogenous zone between his balls and anus.

  The hair on his legs and arms stood tall. The sensation of each follicle making contact with his clothing or the air enhanced the shimmering buildup of energy in his body. With a show of personal will and physical restraint, he forced himself not to come. He wanted more than anything else at that moment to hold onto the feeling her touch generated. Deep breaths, clenching his jaw, tightening his stomach muscles only helped for a moment. Then the moment arrived when he had to either willingly let go or explode.

  He released determination to last in one exhale. From every inch of his body, the energy that had been accumulating gathered in his groin then exploded with a bang. He came like he hadn't in longer than he could remember. Ripples and convulsions shuddered through his body, shaking him to his core as hot cum shot from him in a seemingly unending stream.

  He leaned forward slightly as she held on tight with her mouth. The rapture of her mouth, not only through the last waves of his orgasm but while he calmed and softened had no comparison in his past experience. Henna took it all in and didn't release him until he was fully satiated. With a final suck and a slick pop, her mouth slid away.

  Eduardo watched her with his head resting against the back of the seat as she moved gracefully from her knees to the seat next to him. He managed to raise a hand and ran a finger down the line of her jaw. “Thank you. I don't know what you were worried about, but you were perfect.”

  Her smile amused him. The smile of a woman who knew she had a man in the palm of her hand. Which she did. “You're very welcome.” She pulled her spare compact out of her carry-on and checked her face. “You mussed me,” she scolded, smoothing her hair. “Do I look like I've been up to no good?” She put her compact on her knee then combed her fingers through her hair.

  “Does that bother you? That I messed up your hair?” If it did, then he would be crushed.

  “No, not really. I came to terms with my hair a long time ago. Regardless of how little sex I've had recently, I always look like I just had a roll in the hay. Something you'd know about... Rolling in the hay.” She looked at him. “Being a farmer, that is. Tell me the truth. What are you? Some sort of telenovela actor? International man of mystery? Please tell me you are not a model.”

  He laughed loudly. “Telenovela? I really am a farmer. It's a big farm, but I am a farmer.”

  She pulled lipstick from her purse and managed to juggle it and the compact while studying her face. In his opinion, her mouth was perfect as it was without need for enhancement. But that was the nature of women. He concluded many years earlier that they fussed with the lipstick and the hairspray more to show each other up than to be more appealing to their men. Most men, himself included, preferred the women they were with to be their most natural selves with just the pink flush of desire coloring their skin.

  Eduardo watched her while he gathered his composure and enjoyed the feel of his body’s awakening. The simple female gestures and feigned irritation reminded him how much he missed the company of a woman he shared true intimacy with. “You're beautiful.”

  Her cheeks were pink, her pupils large black saucers, her skin flushed. She looked like a woman who had been recently satisfied. If the world knew he was responsible for the rose in her cheeks, then all the better.

  She gave him a small smile as she snapped her compact shut. His gaze passed over her as he studied all her incongruities. The modest and practical slim black pencil skirt that covered up legs he wanted to wrap around his body. The simple black cardigan that covered an equally simple pale yellow camisole, which allowed just a peek at a lacy bra that held breasts he wanted to hold in his hands.

  Cool and sophisticated on the outside but filled with fire and passion. Meeting her at the moment he had in his life created a string of complications that would have to be managed. Destiny was a complicated thing that enjoyed throwing obstacles in the paths of people seeking their way. Questions would need to be answered and truths clarified.

  Inside his soul, he somehow knew they had been brought together as a challenge and a reminder to him that life was never simple. His body, his soul, and the universe refused to let him ignore the sexual needs of his physical being. Forcing that part of his nature to sleep had failed.

  Henna had awakened the primal animal in him and there would be no putting it down again. His lesson had been learned. No matter how much he wanted to build a wall made from his work and his family around him, there would always be outside influences.

  Chapter Four

  Eduardo enjoyed the quiet in the back of the car along with the comfortable closeness of Henna wrapped in his arms during the final few minutes of the ride to the hotel. The familiar pink Hamilton Princess appeared. He double-checked his trousers were fastened and left his shirt untucked. He was on vacation. A beautiful woman had just sucked him off in the back of a limo.

  The call from his secretary might have annoyed Henna, but it confirmed he was a wealthy man who had just gotten a lot richer. Life was better than good. Life was great. Life hadn't been great for a long time. His day, which started badly, had turned around. Proof that excellent things had a way of happening when least expected sat next to him in the car with her head on his shoulder.

  Henna leaned toward the window. “It's pretty.”

  He looked out the window to see the hotel and grounds as she saw them. It was pretty. “Have you never been here before?”

  “No,” she said. “You?”

  “Many times.” Many, many, many times. Nearly every summer of his childhood. His honeymoon. His fifth, tenth, fifteenth, and twentieth anniversaries. His thirtieth and fortieth birthday parties. He hadn’t wanted to come back ever again. But here he was.

  That morning, as he had attempted to ruin any chance of getting to the airport and on the plane through multiple instances of self-sabotage, he would have done anything to get out of having to return to Bermuda. What he learned as the car moved closer to the hotel was that the reality of returning wasn't half as bad as what he had imagined it would be.

  “It's very nice,” she said. “I'm glad I'm here. This isn't usually my thing for a vacation, but I figured I'd give it a try since I had to come here anyway.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “I have a thing,” she said. “I told you I was meeting people. You and I are going to need to have a conversation about discretion.”

  “What kind of thing?” A suspicion no bigger than the heart of a fly began growing in the deepest corner of his thoughts. He had a thing, too. That they might be in Bermuda for the same thing… It was possible. Anything was possible. The world was filled with the possible.

  “A family thing,” she said.

  The suspicion was no more than an itch when the car pulled up outside of the hotel. But once that question grabbed hold, it would not be dismissed without an answer. Life, destiny, the universe, something in the cosmos had its eye on him.

  The limo door opened before he had a chance to ask more subtle yet probing questions about her family thing. He was in Bermuda for a family thing. He knew, as he stepped from the air-conditioning into the perfect afternoon air, that destiny very well might not be the only thing that had brought them together.

  Eduardo offered her a hand, and she took his hand as her body unfolded from the back of the car until she stood next to him. He arranged to have the bags carried inside, then put an arm around her to lead her into the cool colonial interior of the Hamilton Princess.

  When he'd first encountered her at the airport bar, he assumed she had to be a prostitute. A very expensive and extremely professional working girl, but still a prostitute. Not that he judged. He was a business person with a product to sell and had assumed she was no different from him. He reg
retted asking her for the truth, but he'd been caught out twice since his wife had died.

  His status as a widower rather than divorced, was something he'd have to clear up with Henna after he was wholly satisfied she wasn't a very clever woman who had targeted him. He hated that he'd grown skeptical, but experience, fortunately not his, but rather a friend of his, had taught him that wealthy men could be targeted by unscrupulous women. He'd never been taken for a ride, but he had been mistaken. He wasn't going to be fooled a third time into believing a woman wanted to bed him just because she wanted to and not for financial gain.

  The raw sexual feelings and the attraction he felt for this stranger totally bewildered him. Everything about Henna made him curious. Her every move and her every word stoked an ember of longing and desire within him he thought had been extinguished.

  He wanted her near him and feared the moment she finished with him. He desperately wanted her to touch him and recreate that feeling of being alive she'd given him in the airplane and then the limo. He wanted to do whatever it took to feel his heart beat and his body spark as it had when she touched him.

  The sound of her shoes clicking against the marble tiles mixed with the rhythm and the sway of her hip under his hand equaled contentment. That morning in Miami, he'd dreaded returning to Bermuda. His reward for bravery in confronting his past, walked next to him.

  Henna slowed her pace then halted. “Stop. Just a moment.”

  She dug in her purse as he discretely looked down, trying to get a look into the giant leather sack filled with minutia she probably absolutely, implicitly, totally, and categorically needed to have on her before she'd even consider leaving her home. “Can I help you find something?”

  “No.” She shook her head a little. “It's in here...” With a triumphant cheer, a slim wallet emerged from her bag. “I can never find anything in this bag.”

  “Have you considered carrying a smaller bag?” Did those words actually come out of his mouth?

  She turned her head and looked up at him. “No.”