His Paradise Page 2

  “Damn,” I whisper to myself. How is this place not packed solid every day of the week?

  As much as I hate to admit it, it’s better than the hotel I’ve created. But maybe it’s because it’s so different. Then suddenly I’m angry with myself at the thought that this place is anything but a roadblock on my way to success.

  I clench my fists at my side and go through the front door. Inside I find a small reception space with a table next to it. On it are little jars of preserves and dips for sale. I ignore the cute display and personal touches and look to the double doors that lead right out onto the patio. It’s inviting, even as the sky darkens further and the first sounds of thunder echo in the distance.

  “Can I help you?” I glance back to the desk to see a young man in a baggy T-shirt and messy hair standing there with his eyebrows furrowed.

  “I’m looking for Marvin Mitchell,” I say. That was the name listed on the deed and the person I need to speak with. It doesn’t matter if this teenager is left running the place, I want to talk to whoever it is that can sign this place over to me. And it’s not some punk kid.

  “I’m sorry but he passed away. He and his wife Adora.” The kid’s eyes are sad when he says it, and I wonder if he’s their grandson.

  “Too bad. Are you in charge?” I should have said something nice, but I forget to be polite when there’s something I want.

  “No.”

  I wait for a moment, but he doesn’t offer up anything else. Just gives me the one-word answer. Kathy says I’m an asshole to everyone who meets me for the first time, and most people never change their mind. I try again.

  “Can you tell me who is?” I look around the room, waiting for a grownup to walk in. Who is this kid and why is he left manning the front desk?

  “They’re not here,” is all he says as he turns around to walk away.

  “Hey,” I say, stopping him. I let out a breath and try to soften my words. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on today and I think I’m stranded here tonight.”

  The kid looks out at the ocean and then back to me, nodding. “Yep. The ferry called about ten minutes ago and said they aren’t coming back out until dawn.” He walks back to the desk and his face softens a little. “You need a room?”

  I open my mouth to tell him I’ve already got one, but then an idea sparks. Maybe if I stay here I can get to the owner either tonight or first thing in the morning. Or at least staying here might give me a bit of ammunition to use when it’s time to make a new offer and get a hold of this land.

  “Yeah, I do,” I say and pull out my wallet. “Can you do that for me?”

  “Sure,” he says and clicks some keys on the computer. He tells me how much it is for a night and I almost fall over on the floor. It’s nearly a third of what I charge for my cheapest room. No wonder this place is going under. There’s no one here, and they’re hardly charging enough to keep the lights on, let alone cover the sizeable taxes and insurance. I’ll be doing these people a favor when I write them a check.

  The kid, who tells me his name is Peter, gives me my key and points me in the direction of my room. I don’t ask him any more about the owner, because any reference to that seems to piss him off.

  Once I have my key Peter goes around and locks up the shutters. He tells me it’s just a precaution and the storm rolling through won’t be too bad. I nod to him, then I walk down the small hallway to the room at the end. They give out old-fashioned keys at this place. Not key cards like at most hotels. I grumble at not being able to get in my room faster as I turn the key and open the door.

  When I walk inside I look around and see that the room is clean. He’s given me a large room with a king-size bed and an attached bath with a claw-foot tub. French doors open out onto a small private patio, and a small path leads to the beach. I look around for something cheap or dirty but find the room in perfect order.

  “The walls are probably paper thin,” I say to myself, eyeing the dark clouds above the water.

  It’s too early to go to bed, and I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. I spent far too long trying to find the place that I’m almost hesitant to leave. Peter mentioned that there’s a bar within walking distance, and I expected him to mention the one in my hotel. But he pointed in the opposite direction and said it was called the Red Din.

  I went out to my car and got my bag before I came to my room, so I go over to the bed now and open it up. It would be better for me to go to a place where the staff doesn’t know me, so I decide to change out of my suit and into something more local-friendly. I pull on a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo then slip on some flip-flops. My blond hair is starting to become wavy in the humidity, so I have to keep pushing it out of my face. Apparently, the gel I normally use doesn’t stand up to the heat of the island. Another reason to get out of here as soon as possible.

  I grab some cash and tuck it in my back pocket and see there’s no safe in the room. I guess it isn’t so perfect after all.

  After I lock my door and walk to the front of the hotel I see it’s already pouring rain. By the entrance there’s a basket full of umbrellas, with a note to take one. I grumble again as I pull the collar on my shirt up around my neck and blow by them. Why are all the little touches so annoying? Can’t they just operate like a normal hotel?

  The air is muggy as I make my way under the canopy of trees and in the vague direction Peter pointed. Of course, there’s no goddamn cell reception on this island, so I just have to guess where to go from here.

  Up ahead I see a building with glowing lights and can make out a neon fish on the roof. That must be the place. When I get closer I see the place is basically a shack. The door has been propped open with a few pieces of driftwood, and music is blaring through the open windows.

  The Red Din is crowded for a weekday and I’m surprised. Is this whole island just one big party? I guess nobody does any real work when the sun goes down.

  I walk inside, but the place is so rowdy nobody notices. I spot an empty seat on the other side of the bar and have to make my way through the crowd to claim it. Once I’m there I take a seat and then have a good look around.

  The roof is made of rusted metal, and the sound of rain on it would be nice if it wasn’t for the jukebox in the corner blaring out old honky-tonk songs. Wooden rafters run along the roof and there are hundreds of bras nailed up there. I crane my neck back to get a good look at them and then wonder why the hell anyone would do that.

  “It’s a rite of passage,” an older woman says as she tosses a napkin down in front of me.

  She’s got dirty-blonde hair that’s been curled and piled up on the top of her head. Black charcoal rings her eyes and she’s wearing red lipstick that is a little too loud for her age. Then I notice she’s wearing a black leather collar with the name Dolly on it and a black leather vest with nothing on underneath.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “The bras. Locals toss ’em up there if they’ve banged in the bathroom.”

  “You mean women that have sex in the bathroom and announce it to the whole town?”

  “Only the first time,” she says, winking at me. “What’ll you have, sailor?”

  “You have any beer on tap?” I ask, looking around the bar.

  “Nope,” she says, then smiles brightly at me.

  “Anything will do,” I say, knowing this isn’t the kind of place to order a fine liquor or wine.

  She slides a bottle over to me and then places a bowl of pretzels beside it.

  “My name’s Dolly. You need anything, holler.”

  I go to ask her for a menu, but she turns her back on me and walks to the other end of the bar. It’s then I see she’s wearing a leather mini-skirt and five-inch heels.

  I pull the bowl of pretzels closer and try not to think about who else has had their hands in them. At this point I’m too hungry to care, and it’s obvious Dolly isn’t a fan of tourists. I think even if I did order, I might not like what comes on my plate
.

  Some time passes, and I watch the crowd. People are laughing and having a good time. There’s even a good number of people on the dance floor. I’m surprised, but after a while I think this place might not be so bad. At least it’s early enough that they’re not sloppy.

  “You want another, sailor?” Dolly says as she comes over and points to my empty beer bottle.

  “Please, and maybe I could get something to eat with it?” I hedge, trying my best to seem reasonable.

  “You want a burger or oysters?” she asks, and I suppose those are my options.

  “Burger.”

  “Coming up.” She winks at me this time before she slides me another beer.

  I guess Kathy was right. Sometimes being polite does pay off. I just don’t seem to find time in my day for it.

  It doesn’t take long before Dolly is bringing me a burger and fries. “You all set, sailor?”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” I say right before I take a bite of the big juicy burger. I have to stop myself from moaning. I’m either starving or this is the best burger I’ve ever eaten.

  “You washed up today, didn’t you?” she says, propping her elbow on the bar.

  “I bet you know everyone in this town,” I say, thinking I could use her to my advantage.

  “I know every good-looking man in this town,” she says, leaning closer. “And I know it’s been a long time since I had one hang my bra from the rafters.” She winks at me and takes a sip of some pink cocktail beside her.

  I nearly choke on my burger before I swallow it and then wash it down with a sip of my beer, biding my time. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. So long that I can’t even remember a thing about it. But I’m not sure Dolly is the one I want breaking my streak.

  “Maybe it’s because you don’t wear them?” I say, looking directly into her eyes and smiling at her. I have to give it to her, she’s feisty.

  She leans in closer and pats me on the cheek. “Can’t blame a woman for trying.” She leans back and grabs her drink. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

  “The kid at the Mermaid told me this was the best place in town to get some food and drinks.”

  “Peter sure is a sweetheart. Shame about his daddy,” she says, shaking her head.

  I wonder if his father was the owner of the hotel. Maybe that’s why he was running the place? I open my mouth to ask Dolly what she means, but then the bang of the door draws my attention.

  My jaw nearly comes unhinged at the sight standing there, and it’s all I can do not to swallow my tongue. She’s tall with long legs and curves like Jessica Rabbit. She’s got on cut-off shorts that show off smooth skin for miles down to pretty pink toes in flip-flops. When my eyes rake back up her firm stems, they land on her substantial rack that’s bouncing under a tight cotton tank top. She’s nearly obscene in shape, and the way her waist is exaggerated by the size of her hips makes my boxer briefs tighten. Her blond hair is in messy waves over one shoulder, and even from here I can see the shiny pout on her lips. Lips a man wants wrapped around him. She’s looking away from me and to her friend who’s with her, and all I want is for her to turn them on me. I want to have the full attention of a woman like that and her eyes only on me.

  “I see you’ve got a taste for the local cuisine,” Dolly says, breaking my concentration. I look at her and see she’s not talking about my food but nodding to the woman at the door. “That girl is like a daughter to everyone on this island,” she says, turning to face me. “You hurt her, and I’ll turn you from a sea cucumber into a clam with one shuck.” She tips her glass to me as she takes a sip and walks over to the other side of the bar to take a drink order.

  I watch as the woman moves up to the bar and leans over to give Dolly a kiss on the cheek. The motion pushes her breasts up and over the top of the bar, and I get a look right down the front of her top. The image of my cock popping up between them fills my mind and suddenly I can’t think straight. I take a drink of my beer to distract myself and to have a moment to get my thoughts together.

  I’m not here to fuck local pussy. I’m here for a business deal and then I’m getting the hell off this island. But then the devil on my shoulder leans in and whispers that I can do both. The image of her riding my dick while those big tits bounce is filling up every available space in my brain.

  But I didn’t become as successful as I am by giving in to every desire. Discipline and hard work are what made me who I am today, and I’m not going to screw that up by letting my dick lead me. No matter how much I want to.

  It’s been so long since I’ve even really looked at a woman, so that’s probably why I’m so hard for it. I don’t have time with how much I work, so I’m sure it’s just me sitting here with nothing to do but think about sex. That and I’m surrounded by lingerie literally hanging from the ceiling.

  I decide to finish my food and go back to the hotel. I can jerk off in peace and then get some sleep before I need to get up in the morning. And of course, that woman is going to be headlining the show tonight in my bedroom. I push away from the bar and stand up to walk towards the bathroom. But before I can take a step, I’m running straight into someone right before I feel an ice-cold drink spill down the front of my shirt.

  “Shit.”

  “Oh god.”

  I grab the person in front of me to keep them from knocking me down as we both stumble a little. When I look up I see that it’s her. And fuck me, her eyes are bluer than the sea. My arms have a mind of their own and pull her closer to me to steady her.

  “I’m so sorry. I was on the way to the bathroom and I was going to just set my drink on the bar.”

  Her voice is hurried and apologetic, but it’s also sweet and delicate. Her body says sinner but her mouth says saint, and I don’t know which I want to fuck first.

  I glance down between us and see something similar to the color of the cocktail Dolly was drinking all down my white shirt. I can also see that it’s gotten on the mounds of her tits and the little drops twinkle in the low light. How would she feel about me leaning down and licking them off of her?

  She reaches around me, and for a second I think she’s going to pull me against her, but instead she comes back with a napkin from the bar and tries to dry me off. The feel of her rubbing anything against me is almost too much, but when her hand dips low, I hiss and have to back away. Jesus, does she not know she almost rubbed my cock?

  “Sorry, oh gosh, I’m just making a mess.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, and even I can hear how husky my voice is.

  “Can I make it up to you?” she says, and it’s so innocent and sweet.

  My god, I have to have her. Damn my reasons for being here. Fuck all of it. Her ice-blue eyes are looking at me with permission and there is not a thing on this earth I’d deny her.

  “Yeah, you can buy me a beer. But only if you sit in my lap,” I say, and I’m nearly shocked at the words that came out.

  There’s a pause between us and for a second I think about telling her I said it wrong. That I just wanted her to sit with me. But I decide I might as well go for broke. Either I’m taking her home, or I’m going home to jerk off to the image of her. Either way, she’s getting my nut tonight.

  “I don’t even know you,” she says as her cheeks turn red. I notice that she didn’t say no.

  “Nicole, you coming?” someone says from behind her, and we both look to see the friend who came in with her earlier.

  “No, Sammy, I’m good.” Her friend makes some motion with her hands like a bomb exploding and walks to the back of the bar where a group of people are sitting at a table.

  “Friends of yours?” I ask, and Nicole turns her ice-blue eyes back on me.

  “You might say that,” she says, looking past me to the bar.

  “So, do we have a deal?” I push, not letting her out of the stipulation.

  “I said I don’t know you.” This time she puts a hand on her hip, and all it does is mak
e that curve even more pronounced. It’s like she wants me to hold on to her there as I fuck her on the floor.

  “I’m Liam,” I say, putting my arm around her waist and stepping closer to her. “Now we’re friends. And you owe me a drink.”

  I pull her flush against me as I sit down on the stool and drag her onto my lap. I’ve never acted so bold with a woman before, but fucking hell, she’s got temptation written all over her. When I settle her down between my legs she doesn’t make a move to pull away from the hard length growing down my thigh. If anything, she’s completely ignoring it, which is almost more frustrating.

  Dolly comes over and narrows her eyes on me. She props her cocktail down on the bar and looks me up and down. “Let’s hope you fuck better than you listen,” she says and then turns to Nicole. “What’ll you have, Nikki?”

  “Same as before. I lost my cherry to this guy,” she says, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at me.

  Dolly smiles at Nicole, and then as soon as her eyes land on me they narrow again. “Coming right up.”

  I lean forward and put my lips close to Nicole’s ear. “I think I’m going to need you to explain to me exactly what kind of drink that was.”

  4

  Nicole

  My breath hitches as I realize what I’d just said. I lost my cherry. I want to die of embarrassment, but I try to play it cool like I was flirting and not complaining about losing the mixed drink.

  “It’s really just cherry limeade with a splash of vodka,” I tell him. His eyes go to my lips and I can’t stop myself from licking them.