Just a Number (Downtown #1)

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Just a Number (Downtown #1) Page 7

by Fifi Flowers


  Slathered with sunscreen, we rubbed into each other’s sun-kissed skin, we were almost ready to float around the inviting area. Once outfitted with fins, masks, and snorkels, Willow and I flipped backwards off the side of the boat into the turquoise water. Swimming around, we saw coral and plant life moving with the current, a variety of colorful tropical fish, sea stars attached to the reef, sea urchins on coral, and eels, peeking out rocks. The underwater views that greeted us were stunning. What a magnificent habitat.

  Swimming around the bay, Willow’s neon-yellow bikini attracted schools of fish. They had no interest in my basic navy blue trunks. She was like a human lure. It freaked her out, at first, as they circled her and closely skimmed her body. Lucky little fish. I absolutely loved it. Not to mention it was a good excuse to look at her curvy body. I couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  Wrapping up the day’s voyage, our guides declared it was happy hour and plied us with pitchers of Mai Tais, pretzels, and macadamia nuts. Good thing we had both used a driver to bring us to the boat dock and had one to deliver us back to the resort.

  Snuggled up in the backseat, we made out like a couple of frisky teenagers. At the hotel, we snuck back to her room, like we were trying to avoid punishment for breaking our curfew. We laughed the whole way, until we were safely hidden away behind closed doors. Away from prying eyes, our clothes were quickly removed, and the real fun I had been thinking of all day got underway and continued all night long until the sky showed a glimmer lightening. Only nutrition, delivered by room service, temporarily stopped our melding of body parts.

  Chapter Nine

  Willow

  In the darkness of morning, I shocked the guru by quietly escaping my bed and joining him for his sunrise yoga session. My sated, but sore body begged to be loosened up if it was going to be able to go hiking later in the day. Refreshed after finishing his class, we parted ways to shower up before meeting for a light breakfast. Dressed in a pair of white shorts, a sky-blue tank top, and tennis shoes, I made my way to the hotel’s open pavilion restaurant.

  Arriving before him, I grabbed some sliced mango, a cheese pastry, and coffee from the buffet. As I nibbled and sipped, I opened my tablet and snapped it into a keyboard case, a great alternative to hauling around my laptop. I was interested to see how things were moving along with my new fashionable island client. It was important that it was going in a positive direction before I left. Only a couple more days in paradise, then it was back to my mainland life.

  Emails appeared from work and my mother, still using my father’s email. I guess he didn’t help her out. At least he was allowing her to use his computer. Or maybe, she was sneaking on to his computer.

  From: Mrs. Dane, your mother

  To: Willow Dane

  Happy I can write to you

  Today at 5:00AM

  Hello Dear,

  I would’ve written to you sooner, since you gave me the okay, but so much has been going on lately. I still haven’t gotten my own email address. I didn’t want to bother your father. Mrs. Hooligan, as you kids called her, is supposed to show me on her computer later today, but I couldn’t wait. I woke up all night, thinking about you. I finally got out of bed at four and made a pot of coffee. Your brother told me yesterday that you took a break from work to go to some fancy resort. Good for you. I remember the last time we went on a vacation. Your father was salesman of the year. They had a spa. I spent the whole day being pampered. Make sure you do that. It could help relieve stress. I know your father was always tense. You business people work too hard. But at least you get rewarded. I saw some newspaper clippings about you since we last spoke. I have to confess; I snooped on your father’s computer. I’m glad I didn’t find any exchanges with women. That book we read had emails between the characters. They even sent each other nude photographs. I would’ve died if I saw anything like that on this computer. I didn’t think I would, but you never know. I was scared at first. What I found was files on all of us. He must’ve been scanning stuff into the computer. I learned about scanning, too. He put in cards to him and artwork. They are all in the appropriate file. I was shocked. Your file is the biggest. I hadn’t realized how much you’ve accomplished over the years. So proud of you.

  Love,

  Your Mother

  File on me? I didn’t respond to my mother’s email. I would’ve, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I wondered what was in the files. Why would my father put together files on all of us? Reviewing us? Memories? Or assessing us? Keeping tabs on who did what. Who did it better? I didn’t know why I cared; I knew what he thought about my life choices.

  I moved on to work matters, reading through several correspondences. I replied to ones I deemed necessary to handle while out of the office. Ones that didn’t need research and multiple replies. Basically, the easiest discussions to be made. No stress—happy ones, which included all of the progress being made on Katie’s Swim Shack. I was thrilled with the website and we hadn’t even included the photos that were emailed to me for review. I smiled from ear to ear as I flipped through each one.

  “Someone is happy this morning. Must be the sunrise yoga session,” his voice pulled me away. My smile widened, if that was possible, to the point of pain. The delicious sight of my yoga-god sparked my whole body; I felt sensations spread all the way down to my toes.

  “Things are looking up with a new exciting account…” My computer pinged. Website with photos update. Suggested name change samples. “Oh no. Sorry. I have to look at this. Work,” I added, practically disappearing into my tablet. I hoped he wouldn’t think I was rude.

  “No problem, I’ll hit the buffet. Be right back. Take your time.”

  Shaken momentarily from my email, I couldn’t help myself; my eyes followed his nice ass walking away. Focus, Willow. Business, then playtime. Back on track, I looked at the mockup of the site complete, and wanted to do a little dance. To my delight, the island photographer we hired, with the owner’s recommendation, did a fantastic job. He had captured the true essence of her amazing boutique. The only problem I had was with the various versions of the home page labeled with new names. I had never asked for a name change. I didn’t know where that was coming from. Surely, Suze wouldn’t question me; I was in charge. Quickly, I shot an email back before my yummy brunch companion returned.

  From: W. Dane

  To: Sam Maxwell

  Katie’s Swim Shack website

  Today at 8:00 AM

  S,

  No name change, please. Let’s leave it as is and move forward with the mock up. Everything looks great. Let’s go live.

  W

  Account Manager, Woodland & Associates

  cc: Suze

  As I hit send, a chair scraped the floor. “Everything okay?” Dash sat down across from me. Damn! He was gorgeous in a tight t-shirt, showing off his lean muscles. His tousled hair reminded me of how my fingers felt running through it. And that mouth! I licked my own lips as I watched him take a bit of food and lick his full bottom lip. “Everything okay?” he repeated his question.

  “Yes.” I remembered what I had been doing and closed my tablet. “Or at least, it will be, if people let me do my job.”

  “Someone overstepping their bounds with you?” He continued to eat.

  “Maybe upper management, which puzzles me. Never have I been questioned on a proposal. Actually, more than a proposal—it was a done deal; contracts signed. I could lose the client if I tried to make such a…”

  “A what?” He looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup.

  “Sorry. I forgot; no details. Besides, I’m on vacation—no shop talk.” I took a sip from my own coffee cup. “I think I need another coconut milk latte.” I stood up.

  “Changing the subject?” He grabbed my wrist and I looked down into his denim eyes. “I don’t mind listening.”

  “Rules,” I mumbled.

  “Your rules,” he reminded me and added, “I find that the old saying holds true; rules are meant to b
e broken.” He arched an eyebrow, grinning. I had to remind myself that he was not mine. That, in a few days, he would be just a very, very, very pleasant memory.

  “I’ll be back.” I broke free of his touch… his spell, making the quest for caffeine my main focus. Back at the table with a to-go cup, I suggested we take off for the day.

  Casually—no hand holding—like a couple of friends, we walked to a waiting convertible jeep in the parking lot. Dropping our light daypacks in the back of the vehicle, we climbed in, buckled up, and headed out of the resort compound.

  Out on the open road, we moved away from any civilization. We drove through rolling, grassy hills where there were cows roaming below big, puffy clouds that floated around the mountain tops, threatening possible rain showers. As we continued on, there were hundreds of palm trees swaying in the breeze. From the main highway, dirt roads trailed off and roadside fruits stands were popped up here and there. We stopped at one along the way for some pineapple and mango spears. Juicy! Fresh! Delicious!

  Reaching our destination, we parked in the middle of nowhere. Only a jungle faced our vehicle. I was feeling a bit apprehensive even though there were other cars parked in the area, as well. It had to be a known spot. Even so, all I thought about was the variety of creatures that could possibly crawl or slither up my legs, and others that might fly or jump into my hair. Nature was wonderful. Hiking wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with, but an overgrown wild jungle was all new to me.

  Out of the car, we grabbed our gear and began our adventure. I felt better as we entered a cleared opening to worn paths through high, pale-green grass. Dash must’ve clued in to my breathing in an attempt to release the tension my body was storing for the last few minutes. “Don’t worry. I will protect you,” he reassured me, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles.

  “Lead the way, Tarzan.” I released my hand from his, pointing ahead. “I hope you have a machete or a large knife.”

  He chuckled. “Follow me, Jane.” I smiled slightly, still a little leery of my first trip wandering into the jungle. Needless to say, I was hot on his trail. If he stopped quickly, I was sure to crash into him.

  Despite my fear of the unknown around every lush green corner, it was beautiful. There were brightly colored tropical flowers in shades of red, orange, and hot pink. Fragrant floral scents assaulted my nose so deliciously that I found myself stopping briefly to take in a deep inhale. Nature’s perfume counter. Not only did the flowers smell lovely, but so did some of the greenery. There were also plants in various degrees of green, some variegated with vibrant streaks of reds and pinks. Vines for my Tarzan. A giggle escaped my lips at the thought of him in just a loin cloth, swinging from tree to tree.

  Sounds of chirping and singing birds filled the moist air. Not a bird watcher, so I had no idea as to what species they were. I would simply describe them as small sparrow-looking in a variety of different colors: red, yellow, blue, and brown. Some were painted with all of those colors at once. Some had curved beaks while others were straight.

  Wandering through the rainforest, (or jungle—not knowledgeable about the difference—my sincerest apologies to the tropical gods for labeling their majestic land incorrectly) we hiked upward. Reaching the top of the hill, a large waterfall cascaded down into a small body of water. To one side, a little, straw mat roof bar was populated with tourists and hikers. A portable grill was set up to the side of that. The smells coming from it and the dampness of the surroundings were an incredible mixture. Paradise!

  My tummy growled, requesting to be fed. Along with food, they served tropical juice with and without a kick along with icy cold island beers. Sitting at one of the few foldable chairs and tables, we ate shrimp with a spicy cream sauce, poki ahi drizzled with wasabi sesame seed oil, and grilled flatbread with hummus. A local food truck provided food to this remote location. Yum!

  Stomachs appeased, it was time to move on to another waterfall. A more secluded one for skinny dipping, Dash informed me. I laughed. He didn’t. Was he serious? Trekking farther back to a more remote watering hole, out came the deadly looking blade. He cleared our way as we ventured through more dense vegetation. I was relieved when the sound of rushing water got louder and louder; my adventurous side was starting to dwindle.

  Setting down his pack, he smiled and stripped. Oh! He wasn’t joking. “What are you waiting for?” He stood beautifully nude before me. Reluctant to get naked, I just gawked at him. If we found this location, wouldn’t others? I wasn’t an exhibitionist. “Bashful?”

  “Not hardly. Adverse to arrest.”

  “Fear of handcuffs?” He stepped closer to me. Stroking my arms, he caused chills to run up and down my spine and my nipples to pebble.

  “No.” Not at all. Bring them on, officer Dash. Oh, the thoughts running around in my head. “Jail cells.”

  “I promise. We are alone. We will remain alone.” His fingers swiftly worked their magic, removing my clothing piece by piece until I stood bare in front of him. “Let’s swim.” Holding my hand, he led me to the inviting natural lagoon. Uncertain of the water’s depth, we jumped in feet first.

  The temperature was perfect, not too cold and not too warm. It felt so good. The nakedness added an extra element. We swam around each other, touching and kissing. Tingling sensations ignited an overwhelming desire that settled between my thighs. In his arms, I pushed into him, squirming.

  Treading backwards, we moved toward the waterfall and through it, finding a ledge of rocks—our own private grotto. Without warning, he lifted me up and opened my legs, and pulled them over his shoulders until my throbbing mound was against his lush lips. Raised up on my elbows, I tilted my head back, I arched my back, pushed my breasts up and delighted in the vibrations… the sucking… the nibbling as he quickly took me over the edge. Removing my legs, he climbed up and his chest met mine. Face to face, I tasted my essence on his mouth, and moaned.

  His lips worked my earlobe, my neck, my shoulder. I shuttered with every breath that whispered along my skin. It was the slowest he had ever moved. My chest heaved. I wanted more. I remained silent, watching him intently. He was in charge. As he began to skim my skin with his hands, I matched his every move. Mimicking movements, we explored each other.

  I caressed and licked his stomach and watched how it caused a rippling of his abdominal muscles. They even contracted. I was enjoying the rise and fall of his chest. Oh, his lips. I loved to look at them as much as I adored feeling them. Feeling. His hands felt amazing touching me everywhere. His denim-blue eyes held mine with such intensity. I could never imagine sex in the dark with him. I would miss too much. His body was gorgeous. I was going in and out of an out-of-body experience. I felt sensations I never had before. They were all fantastic. He knew how to work my body. He knew how to take me to the brink, moving me through a series of dynamic movements. He charged my soul, increased my breathing, and set me free.

  Satisfied and relaxed, behind a curtain of flowing water, we swam back out to the edge of the lagoon. Feeling lazy, we spread a couple towels together and let the sun bathe our skin with its warm rays. The soothing sounds of nature lulled us to sleep. Foreign voices stirred us from our slumber. No longer alone, we dressed quickly and made our way back to civilization. No more playing Tarzan and Jane.

  We arrived back to the jeep as the sun was beginning to set. Not ready to end our day together or hide away in my room, we drove to the coast. Finding a little bar with a watery view, we sat out on the wood planked patio. Under a grass umbrella, we ordered drinks and a variety of appetizers. As the sun disappeared into the sea, a four piece woodwind band set up in a corner. We stayed to listen for a while and swayed in each other’s arms until we were ready to continue our rhythmic moves between the sheets.

  Chapter Ten

  Dash

  Slipping out way before my morning yoga class, I didn’t want to leave, but I knew we would see each later as I had our afternoon planned. I had to get some work done so we would have no interrupt
ions. Apparently, I was in high demand as my phone was chiming constantly, alerting me to emails on mainland time. Back in my room, I fired up my laptop to attend to urgent messages that needed my attention.

  New York being six hours ahead; I attacked those issues first. My clients were concerned about my upcoming departure. They didn’t want to lose the one-on-one attention I gave them. Some were afraid I would completely abandon them. I wasn’t sure I could take care of all of them, but I was making other arrangements for them. I found that I had to keep assuring them my replacement would be comparable to my practices. Some of my heavy hitters, I had no choice but fly in to meet up with them, but only when absolutely necessary.

  Next up, on to LA matters. I had several upcoming events, including setting up some outdoor ones. I needed to explore new venues. Variety was my preference. I refused to have a regular location. I had gone that route before; never again. As with locations, having a vast array of clients was preferred, as well. Besides my old accounts, new ones swarmed my plate, wanting input about my methods. Some undesirable ones had been asking to mix a little business with pleasure.

  One new celebrity, in particular, was relentless. She insisted on some private sessions, but I stood firm. “Not happening,” was my constant answer to her pushy requests. She wasn’t listening. She had a habit of finding my events. Ironic that she had complained about having no privacy and stalking. However, she was okay with it if she was the stalker. I didn’t want her. I would never want her. I only wanted one woman! Ending my emails with her, had me more annoyed. I hated being lured out of Willow’s bed earlier than need be.

  I was hating the thought of going back to reality: packing, moving, problems, and office design approvals. Not my expertise. No home office was my only concern, my rule. I liked to go into a designated work space. Home was my escape from business. If possible, I tried to leave my laptop in my office. Most issues outside of my workplace that I had to deal with, I was able to handle with my cellphone. Unfortunately, on my current trip, my laptop had to come along with me.

 

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