by KT Morrison
She’d thought Mitch would balk at doing a blood test. She thought that would be where it ended, but he didn’t. He didn’t even ask that much about Kiley’s guy friend. The only thing he made her swear was that there were to be no cameras. She got that, the business could be vulnerable.
Mitch was next to her, deep in thought. She saw him looking off with his hand gripping and rubbing his chin. He worked so hard, had so much on his mind. And now she’d given him more to trouble himself over. She wanted this to be fun, she wanted him to have a good time, to open up.
Things had just changed too much recently. Changed for both of them. But really everything in her life was a by-product of Mitch and the things that he made happen or had happen to him. She was along for the ride. That sounds bitter. She wasn’t, knew she wasn’t. Too grateful for this man in her life and all that he helped her escape from.
She could see out the window, the afternoon sun glinting off the ocean. Surprisingly dark for such a sunny day. Ten hour flight, a double touch, stopping in Nassau, and another hour and a half now meant they must be almost there. She looked over her shoulder saw the little white embarkation cards getting passed around.
Mitch had given up lawyering, worked now with his much older brother Derek, brought into the family’s owner-managed Investment House. Their father’s really. But a heart attack had brought him down on the twelfth hole at St. Andrews five years ago and Derek ran with it. Had been groomed to. Mitch had come on three years past.
It had twenty-one billion in funds, trusts, and portfolios. Three billion more than when their father was manager. One billion since Mitch had come on board.
She could see the white dashes of rolling waves now through the haze as they descended towards Owen Roberts Airport. She put away her things and eyed Mitch doing the same. They looked at each other, well they were here.
While Mitch was also a co-owner, Derek had started him out as an analyst in compliance and risk management, then half a year under the chief investment officer doing oversight. Learning as he went along. He acted as co-manager now for a year and a half. They better watch out for Mitch though, he was more than he seemed. More than the little brother. He was smarter than Derek for sure, and no one would out-work him. Strategies and schemes. He could look at things and see all the potential outcomes at once, predict a result no one could see. And he was never wrong.
2
House Suite
They walked down the metal stairs rolled into place on rubber wheels, onto the tarmac and crossed to the airport. It was oppressive, like stepping into a sauna in your street clothes. By the time they’d made it to the steeple-roofed terminal their clothing was sticking to them.
Her stomach had flipped as the plane dropped and it never had settled. Just an anxious twist inside her. When they were in the line for passport control Mitch leaned in and kissed the top of her head. She looked up and he said, “Nervous?” He could feel it off her. She put her arm around his waist and squeezed him.
“Just another vacation,” she said.
By the time they made it to baggage she was dying from the heat. She’d taken the leggings off in the bathroom in the plane, and her jacket was away into her carry on, but she needed to take her boots off very soon. It was urgent.
They got through handling quite fast and she swapped out the boots for a pair of little Prada ballerinas, leaning against the wall with one hand in the crowded little room.
They got outside, back into that thick tropical air and Mitch pointed out the car that the rental company had sent for them.
The driver, a skinny kid in a Hawaiian shirt, held the door for them and got their bags into the trunk. He told them where the company had left a Jeep for him at the resort and handed him a set of keys. Mitch signed some things for him, putting the clipboard on his knees.
He sat back in the seat and closed his eyes and there he was off again. Working away in his head.
She leaned in to the front and asked the driver if the air conditioning could go up any higher. He laughed before he turned it up, seemed like he was used to pasty Brits who couldn’t take this heat.
She sat back with Mitch and used a compact to try and sort out her hair. She was a mess. Could see the unkempt wisps in mutiny from the humidity. Her face was a glossy, damp sheen with no makeup. She closed it up and turned to look at Mitch.
“What is it you’re hard at work on?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime,” smiling but not looking over at her. She moved in and kissed his neck, put her hand on his chest. She ran her hand down his stomach, between his legs and squeezed him through his pants, felt him flinch.
“Hey, it’s broad daylight,” he said, trying to keep it quiet so the driver wouldn’t hear.
She could see the cabbie’s eyes in the mirror.
She flopped back into the corner with a laugh. She put her feet up on Mitch’s lap and he put his hands on her, rubbing her ankles.
“This is going to be a good time, right?” he said.
She put her head back now and closed her eyes, said, “I think we’re going to make you very happy.”
There weren’t any villas available because of the short notice in getting this little trip together but they did manage to get a two-bedroom suite on the top floor. Mitch would have preferred the privacy of a villa but it wasn’t likely they would run into any of their friends at the resort anyway.
The suite came with a personal butler, a young, smiling, baby-faced islander who showed them to their rooms. He opened one side of the double doors for them and escorted them through with a gesture. The House Suite was bigger than their flat in London. The entire far side—through the bedrooms, the dining room, the living area—was all a window looking out over the beach across the Caribbean Sea. The place was beautifully appointed, staid and formal but somehow modern--greys and creams, but with splashes of cranberry and turquoise in the pillows, the art, flecks in the upholstery.
He walked them out to their sprawling patio, showed them the bar, the pantry, how to work the plasma screens. Mitch put some money in his hand and told him how he’d like the bar stocked.
When they were alone they went out to the patio and looked down over the pool, out at the sea. He took her hand and watched her as she looked out over the water. This was going to be some week.
He’d gone through a bit of a thing after the miscarriage. He was different after, changed, and his life as it had been just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to see those same faces anymore, didn’t want to see the sadness for him in their eyes.
The welcome back to the Sutton family had been unexpected. He still wasn’t sure what had changed with his brothers. But now he had a new job, a new path. And he and Kate also had an exciting new direction. Who they thought they’d be just wasn’t the way it had played out. He didn’t want to be that lawyer he was trying to be so he made a change. Kate, he figured, didn’t want to be that housewife she thought she wanted to be. This was her change. Crazy as it was he’d be there for her. They could do this together.
3
Smoke
Kate waited for Mitch while he was on the phone—Derek back in London, she figured. It sounded like business. Can’t just put his flip-flops on and relax. That could be a worry. Real life clawing away from home, tearing away the fantasy they were creating here.
She looked down on the pool about ten stories below, saw the shapes of people packing themselves away for the day, their shadows long across the stone tiles in the dwindling daylight. The sun was almost down over the water, the sky lit up before her in pastels and shimmering yellow light.
“You ought to put that thing away while we’re here,” she said to him as he came out to stand next to her and watch the sun set.
“Yeah, just for emergencies,” he said, fiddling with it, putting it back in his pocket. He put his arm around her, held her while they looked out over the sea. “Last time you’ll see it, I swear.”
“Until.”
“Right,�
�� he laughed. “Emergencies only now, Kate. Swear it.”
“You need the week off.”
“I know I do.”
Kiley and her male friend were arriving tomorrow. Meeting up in Miami and coming in together first thing in the morning. Kiley was coming in from San Francisco, and her friend was flying from Spain. Everyone eager to get this done.
She figured they’d take tomorrow, let every one get adjusted, rested, and then, not to waste too much time, they’d try this little foursome out that same night. Twenty-four hours away. She figured they better not waste too much time, let some bad feelings get in the way.
Kate soaked in the big square tub filled with water so hot it took her a few minutes to sink into it, her skin reddening and stinging as she went. She wanted to be soothed and have that travel filth washed away. She wanted a clean slate to begin right here. This bath was the true start of her vacation. And maybe the start of something more. Her stomach tightened at that thought. Was she crazy? This consumption of her thought had been unshakable. Horniness? Maybe. But something more.
She felt on fire sometimes, or itchy would be more accurate. Like the itch that would come with a nettle's sting—it required scratching and rewarded with pleasure, but wasn’t satisfied. Sometimes the urge so strong and undeniable you couldn't stop yourself even thought you knew it was no good for you. Knew how much it would hurt later.
Mitch came in with his tumbler of Scotch and placed it next to the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror. She knew how hard he worked and she could see the toll in his face. He was tired, pale; he looked too tired for a guy who was just past thirty.
She watched him brush his teeth, the man she truly did love. In so many ways the greatest thing that had come into her life. She looked at his pale arms, his softening waist and smiled as she thought how much she still loved him. God, did she want a medal for loving a guy who was aging? Was that such a great feat? Maybe it was for her. The old Kate held looks in the highest esteem. The bad Kate, she thought. Her love for Mitch was unshaken though, she knew that. He still did it for her. When he was present in the moment. But he was not often home and they would go weeks without a night out, and sometimes even when he was home she still felt alone because he was so distracted or he was sequestered in his home office.
She watched him brush and rinse, spit out in the sink, touch at his hair. His hair. He had a beautiful thick head of wavy hair. He was wearing it a little longer these days. He should, he had great hair.
“You going to join me?” she asked.
“I'd love to,” he said. He pulled his tee off and threw it to the floor then stepped out of his boxers. Kate bobbed and waited, spitting a little spigot of the hot water. She watched as he turned back and finished off the Scotch, his naked body in profile, his flaccid penis sticking out from his dense thatch of pubic hair.
He came to the tub and stepped in slowly with one leg. “How can you stand it in here?” He looked down at her, one leg in, one leg out, “It's too hot.”
“Stay there,” she said, and bobbed over. She kept his eyes on hers, she wanted him to know what was coming.
“Really?” he said, but she didn't answer, put an arm around his thigh and smiled up at him. She reached up, dripping water, and put her hand over his dick and his balls, seeing them recoil at the sting from the heat. She gave him a wink and tugged on it, pulling it out from his pubic hair.
“Think you can get the other leg in?” she asked, and cleared some room for him, trying to look as sly as possible. She watched him as he took her in, knew he was looking at the water running down her breasts, little streams coming off the tips of her hardened nipples.
He didn't even respond just got both feet in and seated himself on the edge. He was wide-eyed, not even mentioning the temperature now. He wanted this and she wanted to give it to him.
She put her mouth over him and stretched him with her lips, letting it pop out and jiggle before doing it again, feeling it stiffer each time. She circled his scrotum with her thumb and forefinger, gently pulling on him as he got fully hard. She kept it in her mouth, in all the way, pushing on it with her tongue and twisting with her neck. His hands fell to her and he placed them on the back of her neck. She could feel him throbbing now and he pushed into her open mouth with his hips.
“Kate,” she heard him say quietly, his hands guiding her away so he could see her face. “God," he said, "I need to fuck you so bad right now.”
They stood up and he kissed her, his hands holding her face gently. “I feel like it's been forever,” he said.
It had been awhile, she thought, and she felt it now too, needing him inside her. She turned her back to him, keeping his gaze over her shoulder, and lifted her rump for him. Options for penetration in this space were going to be pretty few. He caressed her big, round bottom and squeezed her little waist.
He had to lower his hips awkwardly to get the right angle but she felt the tip of him going into her. He pushed but it slipped out of her, “I'm too tall,” he said.
Kate bent right over, putting her elbows on the lip of the tub. Her head was pushed in the corner now but she looked back at him and swayed her hips, “Come on,” she said. He slid himself all the way into her and they worked on getting a rhythm. They got it going and she pushed back on him getting as much of him on each thrust as she could.
“Oh, God,” she said pushing herself up, her elbows hurting from the pressure. He kept fucking her but she said, “I don't think you're in any more.” They slowed and she found him with the tips of her fingers and pushed him inside her again. The position wasn't great and he was thrusting between her thighs a lot. It felt good brushing her labia but she wanted him inside her. She turned to face him and kissed him, finding him with her hand and working it with her fingertips. He was too tall, or she was too short, to do it facing each other, and she concentrated on giving him pleasure with her fingers. He bit his lip and moaned as she worked it over.
Did she feel guilty for her errant desires? Was this about making herself feel better for wanting 'it' from another man? No, she thought, she wanted Mitch to feel this good, wanted him to love her and feel her love for him.
She gripped his tightened balls, almost completely up inside him, and pumped her other hand on him. Short strokes with just her thumb and first two fingers. He didn't stop her. He put his head way back and exhaled hard, “Ah, Kate,” he said, “yes.” She stroked him faster watching him react.
He groaned and grunted as he came and she watched it stream from him down over her thumb. She kept working him until he squirmed and she laughed as he had to take a seat.
“Whoa,” he said, looking exhausted, but he came to her right away, putting himself in the hot water and kissing her, moving her across the tub until her back was against the far side. He lifted her up and put her down, seated at the far edge. His kisses worked the way down her neck and her freckled collar. He kissed her breasts and worked his lips down her stomach until he was between her legs.
She pulled his head into her, made him do the work. He was eager, putting everything he had into pleasing her. She arched her head back and let him push his tongue into her.
She came like that, her hands pulling his head hard between her legs, grinding her hips up against his tongue while some of the dirtiest thoughts she could conjure helped her over the edge.
“Smoke?” he asked her as she lay in his arms in the tub.
“Yeah” she said. They'd both quit almost four years now but this was their holidays she figured. Mitch left the tub and grabbed his toiletry bag. He had a pack of Silk Cuts in there and he pulled out a cigarette. He said, “We'll share one,” and brought it back to the tub with a lighter.
Kate lit the cigarette. She inhaled it deeply and then watched the smoke twirl above her as she slowly exhaled. She missed it but hated it at the same time. She took a few puffs and handed it back to Mitch. He finished the cigarette, holding her close to him in the tub, floating between his legs, puffing smoke out
behind her.
Their conversation had died and she was starting to feel a bit sleepy when he moved out from behind her and worked himself to the edge.
“Had you ever thought of other women?” Kate heard herself ask. It emerged from her unwarranted and it surprised her. God, she thought, she just really wanted to get into this.
Mitch clung to the edge for a moment, silently, his back to her. “No,” he said, “not really.”
She could tell he meant it honestly. Mitch was that sort. What's the word? Dutiful? He could push temptation away.
Ask me, she thought.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I didn't think you did.”
“I don't. I mean. Not...did you just want to hear me say it?”
“I know, I believe you, I just feel like, I don't know,” she paused, “like I want to talk about it.” Here it was.
“Why I don't think about other women?”
“No, why—”
“Why you think about other men?” He wasn’t sure that’s what she meant, puzzled look on his face.
She couldn't answer now that it was here, it felt ugly out in the open after all. She floated, nude but somehow not vulnerable, and looked at a spot on the wall above the fluted, chrome tap.
“Have you,” he shook his head, “done something?”
“What? Mitch, Jesus Christ...” she hated herself for loving the chance to be the victim here. “This isn't that kind of talk. How could you think I would cheat on you? I just have feelings that I don't necessarily like but I can't shake them. I just want to talk about that. I want to share something with you.” She watched him nod. “This is a good thing to do. This is the darkest part of me.”
“Do you wish I looked at other women? Would that make it better? Make it easier?”
“I know you don't. But yeah, it would. Help you, I don't know, understand how I feel.”
