by Kimberly Fox
“Barely.”
I chuckle. “You tried to make out with me.”
She raises her head an inch. “Was I a good kisser”
“Mmmmm,” I say looking up at the ceiling. “You tasted like rum and vomit but your tonguemanship was superb.”
“Yes,” she says pumping her fist. “Nailed it.”
Our laughter fades and she sits up straight. “I feel like things have been weird between us lately. I don’t like it.”
I feel a tightness inside that comes whenever I think about this. “I know.”
She puts her hand on mine. “Let’s do something just the two of us tomorrow.”
“I’d like that.” I curse myself when the first thought that pops into my head is that I won’t be able to see Ethan if I leave the resort. What is wrong with you?
“Let’s do some snorkeling,” she says. “It’s on me.”
“That sounds fun,” I say nodding. It would be nice to spend some one on one time with Megan. It’s something that I feel has been lacking lately. And it would be nice to get away from Aaron and Stephanie and just have some fun.
I hold my nose as Megan reaches over the table and hugs me. “I have to go back to bed,” she groans. “I feel like I drank that vat of green goo that the joker fell in.” One of our favorite movies is the original Batman. Even a hot Christian Bale has nothing on Michael Douglass. We’ve watched it dozens of times.
“Yeah, you look like you bathed in it,” I say with a laugh.
She stands up with her shoulders back and clears her throat. “There goes the bride,” she sings. “Looking pretty fried.”
I join in.
“She’s running off to hide. And everyone will think she died.”
We both burst out laughing like we’ve done a million times over the years and I feel better about us.
Maybe this week won’t be so bad after all.
Chapter Seven
Ethan
Day Two
The bride and groom never showed up for dinner tonight so everyone went their own way. My aunt and uncle asked me to join them at the steak house restaurant on the resort but I have plans of my own that involve a nice, hot piece of meat. But when I devour it I won’t be sitting in a restaurant.
My heart pangs when I see my little steak outside watching the coy fish in the pond. She looks stunning in a short green skirt and loose white top that falls over one shoulder. Her hair is down and her cheeks have a red glow from laying around in the sun all day. She looks upset. Tense. She probably got into a fighting match with that piece of shit, Aaron.
“You look stunning,” I say walking up beside her. I lean in with an unshakable desire to smell her. “Mmm,” I groan. She smells like apricots and candy.
Her eyes have a wetness to them and her posture is stiff. She steps back and looks me up and down with pursed lips. “Why are you after me?” Her gorgeous eyes narrow like she’s confused. “Are you setting me up for a joke with Stephanie or something?”
This is not the same girl that I had drinks with this morning. Aaron and her must have gone at it. And by the way that Aaron is slamming back drinks at the bar she gave it even better than she got it.
“It’s simple really,” I say, stepping forward to bridge the gap between us. “You’re the hottest girl in here and I like you.” How could I not?
She tucks a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and watches me. Her white shirt falls over her suntanned shoulder and I can’t stop looking at the pink strap of her bra peeking out and tempting me.
She studies me, trying to piece me together like a puzzle. She wants to believe me but she thinks I’m lying. She thinks I’m playing her. She’s probably been burned before.
It started out as a game with her in the airport when I claimed her panties but now there’s something more. Maybe it’s all this wedding talk but I’m interested. She’s funny and smart and of course, I want to ravish that hot body of hers.
“Come have dinner with me,” I say.
She glances back at the buffet in the distance with the lineups of excited kids and annoyed parents.
“Not here,” I say, shaking my head. This won’t do with a girl like her. She deserves the best. “Come with me.”
I take her hand in mine and gently pull her towards me. This time she doesn’t pull her hand away. This time she lets me lead her.
I take her to the lobby where all of the bell boys and taxi drivers are running around like ants. A thin young Mexican guy, a little younger than us, is wiping the bumper of his car with a rag. Just the kind of guy I need, someone who takes pride in their work.
“Hey amigo,” I say, stuffing a hundred dollar bill into his hand. His eyes bulge out when he sees the number on the corner of the bill. “Can you be our tour guide tonight?”
He shoves the bill into his pocket and smiles. His teeth are insanely white and his jet black hair is meticulously combed to the side.
I pull out another hundred dollar bill and hold it up for him. His eyes go wide. “This is for you when she gets back here safely,” I say, pointing to the angel standing by the purple flowers. She walks over to join us.
“Okay,” he says. “Where would you like to go? Señor Frogs, Hard Rock Cafe?”
“No,” I say shaking my head. “None of that touristy shit. My girl over here wants to see the real Mexico. Where do the locals go for dinner?”
He smiles. “La Rumba.”
“Take us there.”
Our driver for the night runs around the taxi and jumps into the driver’s seat. I open the door for Tanya and stick my chest out as she goes to get in.
“Your girl?” she asks with a raised eyebrow as steps in the car.
I close the door and then bend down and look at her through the open window. “Tonight you’re my girl. And I don’t want to hear any complaints about it. Okay?”
I brace myself, ready to hear one, but her mouth is shut and she’s trying not to twist it into a smile.
The car roars to life and I walk around the back to the other side with the image of Tanya’s stunning face still playing in my head.
The car is immaculate inside and smells like fresh pine. The driver looks at us through the rear view mirror and his eyes light up. “I’m Jorge.”
“Hi Jorge,” Tanya says warmly as she reaches up and pats his shoulder.
“I’m Ethan and this lovely lady here is Tanya.”
Jorge turns and smiles. He’s bubbly and excited. “I’m going to take you to the best place in Cancun.”
“Where is this place?” I ask as he pulls away from the curb.
“Is so good,” he says with a thick accent. “My uncle is the owner. Every Mexican in Cancun goes to eat there. Is so very good.”
“I can’t wait,” Tanya says with a smile.
I can’t stop looking at her. There’s a strong urge coursing through my veins to rip off her skirt and get to the real meal underneath. “I can’t wait either,” I say, staring at her bare legs.
Twenty minutes of chatting with Jorge later and we arrive at the restaurant. It’s not exactly what I had in mind. I wanted fancy wines, waiters in tuxedos and hundred dollar meals. This looks like a shack with its straw roof and Christmas lights hung up all over it. Spanish music is blaring on the huge patio that’s filled with dozens of picnic tables squeezed together. Locals are everywhere, eating, dancing, drinking, talking and laughing. Kids are running around the tables laughing while their parents dance on the tiny dance floor. It’s chaos.
“Wow,” Tanya says, sucking in a quick breath. She’s staring out the open window of the car as her lips part into a wide smile. “This is perfect.”
I tap Jorge’s shoulder. He just got fifty dollars added to his tip. “Good choice,” I whisper. Tanya looks happy and that makes me happy.
Jorge beams as he jumps out of the car. He’s a cute kid.
“Wait here,” I say to Tanya as I get out and hurry around the car to open the door for her.
“I can
open a door.” She laughs as she gets out. “But thank you.”
We follow Jorge to the patio and as soon as we arrive he disappears into the kitchen. There’s definitely no place like this back home.
A young waiter holding a tray of steaming food rushes past an old man dancing with his granddaughter. The tables are filled with food and the seats are filled with smiling faces. A happy group at one table slam their glasses together in a cheers while another group at another table sings to the song playing through the scratchy speakers.
Tanya is watching the scene with sparkling eyes. She’s loving it. Her hips start to move a little bit, swaying from side to side. She’s itching to dance. I lick my lips with the thought of her dancing. I want to see her shaking her hips and moving around on the dance floor. But what I really want to see is her swaying on the bed with me on top of her.
Jorge comes back out with the chef. The large, older man looks like a Mexican Chef Boyardee in his tall white chef’s hat and his gray, bushy mustache. His white apron is tight across his big belly. It’s splattered with barbecue sauce, avocados, tomato sauce and other colorful smears.
“Welcome, welcome,” he says with a thick Spanish accent. He continues speaking fast in Spanish and it all goes over my head. From the look on Tanya’s face, it goes over hers too.
“My uncle says to have fun and make yourself at home,” Jorge says, translating. “He’s going to cook you the best meal in Mexico.”
“Gracias,” Tanya says, leaning in and shaking the chef’s hand. He smiles and blushes a bit.
I guess she doesn’t just have that effect on me. But he better not get too close or I’ll slap him across the head with an avocado. I’m only partly kidding.
Jorge clears a path through the crowd and we follow him to a table. All of the picnic tables are in long rows where the people eat communal style. He clears a small space for us between two families.
I was thinking something a little more private where I could get to know her but she looks like she’s loving it so I just go with it.
Jorge sweeps his arm across the table, pushing a plate of nachos, fajitas and some little breaded balls of something to the side. A little old lady sitting on the bench looks up at me with wrinkly eyes. She shifts to the side and pats the bench beside her.
Tanya and I look at each other and laugh. “When in Cancun,” I say. “Do as the Cancunians do.”
We squeeze in the tight spots. Tanya sits next to an old, hunched over grandfather, which I guess is my neighbor’s husband of ninety years by the look of them.
The woman looks at me and smiles, showing off her astonishing lack of teeth. She’s wrinkly as an old pear with wild, unruly gray hair but her eyes are shining with a hint of mischief in them. She looks like she’s had a few too many tequila sours.
I nod to the man next to me who looks to be in his early forties. His young daughter is sleeping on his lap.
Everyone smiles and starts shoving the plates back in front of us. “Comer, comer,” the old man beside Tanya says.
The young man beside me grabs a plastic pitcher of yellow slush and grabs two cups on the table. He dumps out the ice and melted slush already in them onto the grass and fills them both up. He hands them to us with a smile. “Drink up,” he says. He has a subtle accent but his English is very good.
Tanya eyes the dirty, used glass and then smiles at me. So they’ve been used before. Who cares?
I raise my glass and say, “Cheers.” Everyone along the long table jumps at the excuse to drink and raises their glasses too and yells “Cheers!”
The drink is like fruity candy. It’s the best drink I’ve had since stepping off the plane.
The man introduces himself as Manuel and then tells me the names of over a dozen people. “That’s Roberto, Carlos, Rosa, Maria, Antonio, Josefina…” by the time he’s finished my brain is a jumble of names that I’ll never remember. Tanya nods and smiles at each one of them as they’re introduced.
“Where are you from?” Manuel asks, stroking his sleeping daughter’s brown hair.
“Chicago,” I say over the music.
“Ah!” he says, leaning back and smiling. “The city of Brotherly Love!”
“Ha!” Tanya says pointing at me. “I told you!”
Manuel wraps his arm around me and refills my drink. “Who are all of these people?” I ask him.
He points to the old man beside Tanya who has taken an interest in her. “That’s my father-in-law, my mother-in-law,” he says, pointing to the old woman who’s grinning beside me. He points to the beautiful woman across the table on Tanya’s other side. “My wife, this is my daughter.” He begins pointing to people all over the place. “My cousin, neighbor, brother, another cousin, my aunt…”
I tune Manuel out as his father-in-law grabs a plastic flower from the vase on the table and gives it to Tanya. He’s hunched over and looks old enough that he could have been one of the founders of Mexico. He says something in Spanish and for the first time ever I really wish I had paid attention in Spanish class.
The old woman next to me throws her napkin at him and starts yelling something that I don’t understand. Everyone at the table starts laughing but she looks pissed.
I grab two plastic flowers from the vase and present them to her. She smiles shyly like she’s fourteen again and kisses me on the cheek with rough lips.
The old man across the table looks at me and nods. He says something in Spanish and then tries to switch to English. “How you say…swingers. Sí?”
“No!” Manuel’s wife, Adriana, says reaching over a laughing, blushing Tanya to smack her father. “Stop it!”
Jorge comes back with plates of food stacked up his arm. He places them anywhere he can and before long every inch of the table is covered in fresh hot food. The food looks and smells incredible. I don’t know what half of it is but it has my mouth watering.
We try a bit of everything, passing the plates around the table. Every bite is an explosion of flavor. It’s way better than the cardboard tasting food at the resort buffet. Manuel tops off our drinks as we talk and have fun enjoying the crazy atmosphere.
His family is a riot and they have us laughing the whole time. They really don’t do it like this where I’m from.
Tanya grabs a little roll off the plate and slathers it in the green sauce. Adriana’s eyes pop out of her head and she says “no no no no no no,” as Tanya bites into it but she’s too late. Tanya has already taken a bite.
Her face goes scarlet red and she looks at me with panic brimming from her enormous eyes. She spits out the food into her napkin and chugs her glass of slush. Her mouth is open, breathing short heavy breaths when she throws the empty glass down and looks around in a panic for more.
She grabs the half full pitcher and starts to chug it while everyone laughs hysterically around us. People from the other tables jump up and rush over to see what’s going on and before long the entire restaurant is surrounding us chanting ‘chug, chug, chug,’ as Tanya goes to town on the strong slushy pitcher.
I join in, pounding my fist on the table to the beat of the crowd. “Chug, chug, chug,” I chant along with them. The pitcher was half full but she’s still going strong. A smile rips across my mouth as she finishes every last drop and then holds the empty pitcher upside down over her head.
Everyone cheers as she slams it down on the table. I’ve never been prouder.
A song that I’ve never heard comes on over the speakers and everyone gets excited and jumps out of their seats to dance.
Tanya leans over the table towards me. “Holy fuck that was hot!”
“That was amazing, is what that was,” I answer.
The old man beside her gets up on rickety old legs and offers his hand. Tanya takes it and steps out of the picnic table. She laughs as the old man starts dancing. He moves with more grace than I thought he would and before long she’s dancing with him. The restaurant is alive with excited energy and there are more people dancing than eating.<
br />
Manuel’s mother-in-law is watching Tanya and her husband dancing with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed.
“Let’s go make them jealous,” I whisper to her.
She looks at me in confusion but then smiles when I step out of the picnic table and offer her my hand. She giggles as she takes it and I can see the shy, young girl still inside her. She’s adorable. I take her tiny frail body in my arms carefully. I jerk my head back in surprise when she starts shaking her hips wildly. She can move!
She steps in close and runs her hand up and down my bicep grinning and muttering something to herself. “Easy horn dog,” I whisper to her. “I’m with someone.”
She doesn’t understand and just laughs. I like this lady.
We have a blast dancing and before long the young men in the restaurant start pushing the picnic tables into the corner and the patio turns into a dance floor.
I can’t take it anymore. I maneuver my dance partner over to where Tanya and the old man are shaking their asses and cut in. The old lady dances with her husband and it looks like all is forgiven.
Tanya’s face is flushed as she dances on me, really getting into the song. Chugging a pitcher of that strong slushy stuff has really loosened her up. I step in close and she moves in even closer, shaking her hips and moving her shoulders. She’s got a smile on her face bigger than I’ve ever seen on her before.
I get a whiff of apricots when I smell her hair and lightness fills my head again. My hands slide down her ribs and I give her waist a squeeze with my hands. She steps in close, pressing her breasts against my chest. The half pitcher of tequila is starting to work its magic.
A sexy gleam of sweat is on her hot skin. Feeling her move and grind on me is making my heart pound and if I’m not careful I’ll have a raging hard-on pushing against my pants when the song is over. Tanya is giving me a taste of her moves and now I want to fuck her more than ever.
The fast beat fades away and the soft sounds of a violin take its place. The crowd of people quickly turns into a crowd of couples as everyone pairs up with that special someone.
“May I have this dance?” I ask, holding my hand out.
