TroubleinParadise

by Cindy Jacks

  “You poor thing. I’m lucky, I almost never see Frank. He doesn’t like to work indoors.” Clarissa checked her watch and started to gather her bag. “I gotta bail, guys.”

  Mika would be home soon and she had precious little time with him as it was.

  Sione stood. “I’ll walk you to the parking garage.”

  “I think I’ll take the bus home, leave the van here. I’m a little too tipsy to drive.”

  “Then I’ll walk you to the bus stop. Wouldn’t want you to get molested on the way home.”

  Shouldering her backpack, she teased, “How do I know you won’t molest me?”

  “Hey, I’ve always said, if you weren’t my cousin’s wife…” He let the statement trail off but punctuated it with a smile.

  Clarissa’s stomach flip-flopped. Just what would he do if she weren’t his cousin’s wife? Would he take her back to his place, kiss a trail from her lips to her breasts and then—Jesus fucking Christ. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head to clear it.

  When she opened them, she noticed Sione’s gaze still fixed on her. Hopefully he didn’t know he starred in lascivious thoughts that ran through her mind all day, every day. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, if he knew how she felt, would he respond in kind? Bidding Michelle good night, Clarissa headed toward the university’s main thoroughfare. Sione followed.

  Kiave trees and tuberose lined the walk to the bus stop. Crushing seedpods beneath her slippah-clad feet, she inhaled the pungent floral scent of the small white flowers nestled amongst dense foliage. In her mind, their fragrance had become melded with Sione’s presence. How many times had he walked her through the darkened campus? Almost nightly. It was perhaps this attention that had led Clarissa to her current predicament.

  When Mika was home—and could stay awake—he was as attentive. Just as handsome. And as sexy. When he was home.

  Mika worked fifty- or sixty-hour weeks to, as he put it, “provide for Clarissa”, something she had never asked him to do. She would have her own career, provide for herself. Then again, that topic of conversation only brought up another argument.

  “No wife of mine is going to have to work,” he’d said.

  “I’m not saying I have to. I want to.”

  “But why? Someone has to stay home with the kids.”

  Had he really been so single-minded when they’d been dating? No, she was sure he hadn’t, but once they had gotten married his attitude changed. Gone were the carefree days when they both skipped school or work to spend the day making love. Now he thought only of moving up at work, buying a home and baby-making—none of which Clarissa was ready to do. And the pressure didn’t stop with Mika. His whole family kept asking. Apparently once she had taken her marriage vows, Clarissa had become nothing more than a walking uterus.

  Suddenly aware of the debate raging in her head, she looked up at Sione with a sheepish smile. The ever-present trade winds ruffled his wavy hair. A lock fell across his eyes and he tossed it aside with a flick of his head. A signature move. One of his best features, his hair was always on the long and unruly side.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he asked.

  “Nah, just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Same old, same old. I don’t feel like talking about it.”

  Picking a flower from a nearby pikake bush, he tucked it behind her right ear.

  “Wrong side,” she said.

  “Leave it there. It’s a reminder that you’re your own woman, no matter what my cousin thinks.”

  Clarissa wanted to kiss him and, at the same time, sock him in the jaw. The differences between Sione and Mika made it hard for her to contain her inappropriate impulses. Why did Sione have to be so damn insightful? Maybe it was the creative side of him that made him more sensitive than Mikaela.

  I’m in love with Mika, I’m in love with Mika, I’m in love with Mika, she reminded herself. And she was. He was kind and smart. Funny and caring. Romantic and sensual. If only he wasn’t so hell-bent on doing the family-man thing. And really, what a complaint to have.

  Clarissa knew other women whose boyfriends or husbands didn’t want kids, had no ambition or played around on the side. Mika was a good man. A good husband. If he only understood that she wanted a couple more years to explore before she settled into motherhood, he would be perfect.

  But no one was perfect…not even Sione, though he appeared to be. There had to be some flaw like rampant flatulence or toe fungus. Clarissa glanced down at the man’s feet. Perfectly groomed toes graced his rubber slippers. Nope, no fungus. Damn it.

  Crossing the street, she settled into the bench at the bus stop. “Thanks for the escort.”

  “I’ll wait with you ’til the bus comes.”

  “It’s cool. I’m sure you have better things to do than wait around with me.” Standard banter every time he walked her to the bus stop. Each time she told him he didn’t have to stay and each time he refused to leave her alone. It wasn’t as though there was a lot of crime in Manoa Heights, but still he stayed. Clarissa wondered if he enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed his.

  “Did you get much work done today on your Ku image?” she asked.

  “A little. There was a bad spot in the wood, had to work around it so the grimace is not as symmetrical as I’d like. I hate to go back and rework the other side though. I’ll see how I feel about it in the morning.”

  His master’s thesis dealt with updated images of Polynesian religious icons. Ku, the Hawaiian god of war, he portrayed as a modern soldier in full battle gear—flak jacket, helmet, night-vision goggles—but with the gaping, fierce mouth of traditional depictions. Part Samoan, part Hawaiian and a mélange of other ethnicities, Sione used art to explore his heritage. A heritage Mika explored in other ways, namely cooking.

  At times Clarissa felt cowed by their rituals and cultural history. Her family observed no such traditions. Since her parents’ divorce they were rarely in the same state much less the same mental plane. She’d grown up in the Southeast, states like Alabama, Louisiana and Florida. Her father had been an outside sales rep for a company that produced fishing and power boats of various sorts. After the split, her mother settled in Florida, her dad in California, and Clarissa had wound up in Hawaii, if for no other reason than to put an entire ocean between herself and her bickering parents.

  “I don’t know what to do when you stay quiet,” Sione said.

  “Just a lot on my mind. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, I just want you to know, I’m here if you need to talk. I know things haven’t been exactly smooth with Mika lately. He means well, you know?”

  “I know,” she lied. If he meant well, why did he keep badgering her about kids and a white picket fence? They talked in circles every time the topic came up, which was more and more often as of late.

  Sione went on, “Hey, if you were my girl, I’d want to make babies with you too.”

  At this she laughed.

  “See, I knew I could get you to smile.”

  He could always make her laugh and the intimacy this skill created felt a little too good. Staring at the outline of his mouth, she wondered what it would feel like to touch lips. What would he smell like, taste like? She imagined their bodies pressed together, bare flesh to bare flesh. A shiver darted up her spine followed by an aching heat between her legs.

  Wrong, her frontal cortex screamed, wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Clearing her throat, she groped for a topic of conversation but came up short. Finally, the bus rumbled up the avenue…and not a second too soon.

  Chapter Two

  The clock on the nightstand read 10:00 a.m. Clarissa loved the one Sunday a month Mika had off. It was the only day they had to lounge in bed together. They had been known to spend the entire day under the covers, not sleeping of course. The feel of his warm erection pressed against her buttocks indicated today would be no exception.

  “Good morning, baby.” Mika pulled her onto her back.

&
nbsp; He planted meandering kisses over her neck, chest and shoulders. Flames licked her skin with every touch. Aching need tightened her core. She stroked his tattooed abdomen, letting her fingertips wander down his hard cock. As she caressed it, he sucked in a slow breath between clenched teeth. Goose bumps pebbled his arms.

  Hand brushing between her thighs, he stroked her pussy. Gently at first, then with more urgency. He slipped a finger inside and she moaned as he flicked the spot that turned her to jelly. Cunt already soft and wet, she clung to his wide shoulders and buried her face in his neck.

  The musk of their bodies blended until she could no longer tell where she stopped and Mika began. Conscious thought faded into a stream of pure physical awareness. He had a way of making the rest of the world disappear. Surrounded by his heated flesh, she gave herself over to the tide of emotion and ecstasy.

  Brushing a finger over her clit, he played her body, the reaction to each stimulus timed perfectly. Mika watched her tremble, drinking her in with his gaze, all the while pushing her closer to coming without letting her fall over the edge.

  Fingers moving inside her, he took one nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. A jolt of pleasure shook her. He felt so good and he was just getting started. Her pussy contracted, juices wetting her labia. In and out, hard then slow, he coaxed her to the height of arousal.

  Clarissa raked her teeth over his shoulder, eager for release, but at the same time adrift in the delicious torture. Pressure and unbearable heat coursed through her veins. About the moment she could take no more teasing, he withdrew his fingers and rolled her onto her belly.

  Pulling her onto all fours, he slid behind her then pushed himself into her. She clamped her pussy around his cock, wanting to swallow every inch of him. An exhalation hissed between his clenched teeth. She caught a glimpse in the dresser mirror of him fucking her from behind, golden skin stretched over rippling muscle. His round buttocks clenched with every thrust. A shock of arousal gripped her at the sight and she moaned.

  Hand caressing her backside, he stared down at her, his chiseled features slack. “Push your ass against me.”

  She did as she was told, impaling herself on his cock and bouncing against his pelvis.

  “Like that, Kala. Shit.” He hissed, his teeth once again clenched.

  Fingertips skittering over her skin, he slid his hands up to her breasts. Mika kneaded her nipples, pinching and tugging to the edge of pain, but never pushing past.

  Her cunt tightened, milking his shaft. Her legs trembled, cream wetting her thighs. Moments away from climaxing, she ground against his pelvis, desperate to come. He moved deeper, his hands tight around her hips, fucking her hard and fast. Mika leaned forward, kissing and licking her back. Her body shook, pure ecstasy taking hold. Clarissa arched against him and let the orgasm wash over her. A few more thrusts and Mika buried himself within her, his body jerking and twitching. A sharp inhalation held for several seconds, then a long sigh. He came to rest on top of her as he planted tiny kisses over her shoulders and along the ridge of her spine.

  “I love you, Kala,” he whispered.

  “I love you too.” She shivered, goose bumps rising on her arms.

  Pushing forward, he pressed her against the mattress, still grinding against her ass. After a couple more pumps in and out, he withdrew and collapsed next to her. She wriggled around to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, brushing her lips against his. Hand cradling her face, he slipped his tongue along the length of hers. A soft moan escaped him. Opening his eyes, he gave her that Cheshire cat grin, all pearly white teeth set against a ripe strawberry mouth.

  “Good morning.” An Elvis-like crookedness tugged at his upper lip.

  “Very good, I’d say.”

  They spooned for a while, their conversation meandering with no agenda other than savoring the time together, but eventually the pull of hunger drew them from their love nest. She donned one of his t-shirts, which fit her more like a dress, and he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs.

  Making a pit stop by the bathroom to freshen up, Clarissa washed down a birth control pill with a glass of tap water. A look of annoyance flashed across Mika’s face but he held his tongue. At least they wouldn’t rehash that argument today. Instead, he scooped her up, hands beneath her buttocks, and pressed her against the wall, kissing his way from her lips to her breasts.

  “You keep that up,” she said, “we’ll never get around to breakfast.”

  “It’s your fault. You’re too sexy.”

  “Even when I brush my teeth?”

  He laughed. “Especially when you brush your teeth.”

  Tongue flicking over her skin, he nuzzled her neck, giving her shivers. She threaded her fingers in his hair, grinding her pelvis against his cock. Drawing one leg around his hips, he parted her sticky folds with two fingers. Pussy still throbbing from the first round, she melted against the wall, ecstasy rippling through her.

  “You’re still wet,” he murmured, lips to her ear.

  Goose bumps rose on her arms. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Once he’d freed his cock from the fly of his underwear, he boosted her up, wrapping her other leg around him. She guided the velvety head to her opening, then one slow push and he was inside. A moan on her lips, she clung to him, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

  Mika thrust forward and up simultaneously, drilling into her pussy, his pubis brushing against her clit. Hardly able to catch her breath, she inhaled the scent of their mingled juices. The musky aroma only spurred on her arousal.

  Turning her head to one side, she could see their reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had her splayed open, his ass flexing as he pumped in and out of her. A jolt of excitement passed through her and she couldn’t stop watching her husband fuck her even if she’d wanted to…but she didn’t want to. The sight thrilled her as her tits bounced, Mika’s back rippling. God, he was so fucking sexy.

  He turned his head, a smile on his lips, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “You like watching us together?”

  “Love it.”

  Licking his lips, he thrust harder and faster. Her back was crushed against the wall to the point of hurting, but the slight pain took her higher.

  “Yes, like that.” She watched a red flush creep into her cheeks, her lips parted with panted breath.

  Fingers sinking into her soft hips, he worked his cock at different angles. Her cunt clamped around his shaft, small contractions spreading throughout her center.

  “I’m close,” she murmured, gaze still fixed on their reflection.

  He didn’t break rhythm though beads of sweat dotted his forehead; clearly he was determined to get her there.

  “Yes, Mika.” She leaned forward, biting his shoulder, the sensation now too much to bear.

  The first wave of pleasure hit her like a tsunami, rushing over her, dragging her under. She cried out, tilting her head back, gripping his back. Still, he didn’t slow down. Thrust after thrust took her higher as the orgasm reached its peak. She shook, her whole body racked with ecstasy. Her cunt spasmed over and over, echoed by the quaking of her thighs and abdomen. She struggled to suck in enough air, moans and whimpers catching in her throat.

  As the climax receded a little at a time, Mika still pounded her pussy, the aftershocks sucking at his cock. Letting her body go limp against his, she continued to watch in the mirror as he grew closer to coming. At first there were little hitches in his rhythm, but then his movements grew stiff and jerky until he finally slammed into her, unloading hot spurts deep inside.

  She rode the undulations of his orgasm, kissing his neck and collarbone, the rumbling of his muted groans vibrating against her lips. When he came to a halt, he pressed her against the wall, his cock still buried inside her. His chest heaved and his arms trembled. Surely he was exhausted from holding her up.

  Easing her legs from around his hips, she found her footing, carefully sliding his cock out before she stood with her fe
et flat on the floor. Her thighs quivered, her knees threatening to buckle. She leaned against Mika, who still shivered from time to time.

  He drew her face up with one hand and kissed her. Lazy, sloppy swipes of his tongue spoke to his fatigue, his heavy exhalations rushing over her cheeks.

  “You too tired to cook?” she asked, grazing her lips over his chin. “We could go out to breakfast.”

  “Nah, I just need a second.” He blew out a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. “That was quite the workout.”

  “I’m sure.” Her stomach rumbled. “But seriously…you have to feed me.”

  He mussed her hair. “All right, all right. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  After he righted his underwear, he grabbed a towel and continued to dry rivulets of sweat.

  She watched his backside as he turned the corner into the hallway of their studio apartment. That his form still turned her head was not lost on her. In December, they’d celebrate their seventh anniversary together. Four years in college and three as a married couple. She’d fallen in love with him the moment they’d met.

  Chapter Three

  Clarissa’s first week in Honolulu, the rusted-out Dodge Colt she’d purchased from a used-car dealer—aka the Hoopty-mobile—overheated on the Kalanianiole Highway. Strong, handsome and tallish for a local boy, Mika materialized from his surfer van as if he were a bronzed god climbing down from his place on high.

  “What wen’ happen?” he asked in Pidgin, the local language. It was actually Hawaii Creole English—a mélange of English, Hawaiian, Japanese, Chinese and several other languages brought to the islands by waves of immigration. But she didn’t know that then.

  “Pardon?”

  “Ah, you’re new around here.” A grin parted his lips and lit up his espresso-colored eyes. “I asked what happened to your car.”

  “Oh. Hell if I know. I think it’s the radiator.”

  Displaying great machismo, Mika popped the hood, took a look around her car’s innards and declared it was indeed the radiator. It had run dry. He offered her a ride to the nearest service station and when she demurred, he made the trip himself.