A Forbidden Storm (7 page)

Martin’s hands continued to explore her body.
 
When he found the space between her legs she moaned softly.
 
He pulled her leg backwards over his hip and she felt his penis press against her bottom.
 
Jessica reached for the member and felt it stiffen in her hand.
 
She shuffled her hips forward and directed him into her cleft.
 
His reinvigorated cock slid slowly into her.

Martin toyed with Jess’s tits as he leisurely fucked her from behind.
 
She closed her eyes and felt his languid strokes alternatingly filling her then leaving her empty.
 
Martin kissed the back of her neck as he withdrew his cock before gently pushing its length back into her wetness.
 
Jessica traced the muscles on his arm and felt his body and tried not to think of what was to come when the sex was over.

Ch10

It was still dark when she dressed to leave.
 
One arm of her sun dress hung by a few threads but she was able to tuck it under the adjoining fabric so as to appear more or less presentable.
 
At the door she looked back at Martin sleeping.
 
She drank in the sight of his magnificent body a final time before stepping outside.

The rain had darkened the rocks and left the sand wet and sticky.
 
Jessica passed by the outdoor bar which was closed for the night.
 
She slalomed through the tables but saw no signs of her forgotten shoes.
 
An insomniac or early riser was walking a dog in the distance and Jessica felt like a thief as she scurried away unseen towards her bungalow.

The clock on the nightstand read four-twelve.
 
Joel was softly snoring and Jessica tiptoed into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
 
She felt hollow as she washed off the sweat.
 
Soreness pervaded her body and she was reminded of Martin’s hands against her skin and the fullness of his cock inside her.
 
Her tears washed down the drain with the shampoo and the bathwater.

---

The couple spent their final day on the island apart.
 
Joel was off snorkeling and Jessica stayed inside the room.
 
Like yesterday, the foam of the surf settled on the white sand.
 
Swimmers still fluttered in the warm ocean water and anglers tended their lines patiently waiting for a rod to bend.
 
Jessica gave it all a pass.
 
She was compelled instead to sit alone wondering if she had destroyed her new marriage before it had a chance.
 
How long can you lie about this?
 
Do you even want to be married
?
 
She fidgeted on the sofa and counted the tiles on the ceiling.

Lunch and dinner passed her by.
 
Jessica had lost her appetite.
 
When he didn’t return to the room Jessica assumed that Joel ate at the bar.
 
Her stomach lurched when she remembered the brazen kiss she had shared with Martin at that establishment.
 
She could taste the bile as her diaphragm threatened to expel what little remained in her stomach.
 
She grasped the molded plastic ridge of the wastebasket but did not throw up.
 
It was a dry heave, a false alarm.
 
The fact that Jessica had become a hollow person, a cardboard cutout flimsy and empty, kept her insides from being
vomitously
ejected.
 
She wiped the spit from her lip, lay on the cold tile floor, and resolved to put last night’s encounter behind her; to bury it so deep that the body could never be exhumed.

Joel returned late.
 
He undressed and crawled into bed beside his wife.
 
Thirty minutes later, she could tell from his breathing that he was not yet asleep.

“We’ll take care of this, Joel.
 
We’re going to visit your doctor as soon as we get home.”
 
She was crying but her back was to him, and he had no idea.

“Yep,” he said.
 
“I know.”
 
His voice was emotionless and lifeless.
 
Jessica wanted to grab him and kiss him and beg for forgiveness.

“I love you.
 
We can get through this thing.”
 
When she rolled over to face her husband, he was on his side, looking towards the dull beige wall.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.
 
Let’s stop worrying.
 
We’ll find out on Monday.”
 
He didn’t sound like he believed it.
 
Jessica thought he sounded frightened.

“Okay,” she snuggled up to his back and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

“Good night, Jessica.”

It was morning.
 
Jessica could hear the fan turning.
 
A blade was slightly out a balance and the mechanism croaked a lonely “
whomp
,
whomp
” on each revolution.
 
Jessica lay on her back.
 
She counted three thousand “
whomps
” before giving up and heading to the bathroom.

Jessica made a pot of coffee and set out a cup along with the little canister of sugar for Joel.
 
She busied herself at the sink washing dishes while he dragged himself out of bed.
 
She wiped the cupboards and the countertops, scrubbed the faucet and laid the little cloth out to dry.
 
The pair didn’t speak.
 

Their flight was early.
 
Jessica allowed herself to be distracted by the process of checking out and arranging transport to the airport.
 
She inventoried their tickets and passports constructing neat and geometrically perfect piles of their papers on the little table near the door.

They packed their bathroom things in the suitcase.
 
Jessica made one last circuit through the drawers and cabinets before locking up the room.
  
Joel wheeled the big bag out the door and she jogged after him, catching him at the corner of the building.
 
He didn’t flinch as she slipped her arm under his elbow.
 
Jessica liked the warm feel of his skin.

The clerk, a pretty island girl, smiled.
 
“I hope you enjoyed your stay in Antigua.”

“Just hunky dory,” the sarcasm in Joel’s voice was impossible to miss and the conversation became awkward and stilted.
 
The girl frowned and turned back to her papers.

Jessica gave the girl a credit card for the mini bar while Joel loaded the luggage into the back of the van that doubled as the airport shuttle.
 
He sat on the rear bench seat, staring at his shoes.

Jessica joined her husband.
 
She kissed his cheek then leaned her head on his shoulder.
 
“We’ll be home soon, Hun.
 
We can take care of all of this once we are home.”
 
Joel was quiet and contemplative.
 
She reached onto his lap and held his hand as the driver waited for another pair, also checking out.

The couple in flowered shirts sat in the seat in front of the
Loftins
.
 
They held hands and teased each other, giggling and acting silly.
 
The short blonde wife turned to face them, grinning.
 
Jessica remembered the woman.
 
On the day she arrived in Antigua, Jess had watched her husband dunk her in the surf.

The bubbly woman smiled back at Jess and Joel.
 
“We’re from Texas.” Her accent was thick.
 
“Can’t wait to get home to my dogs.
 
This here’s paradise, but there’s no place like home.
 
Don’t y’all think so?”

Joel looked at her.
 
His expression was one of mild annoyance.
 
“Lady,” he said, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

---

At the terminal gate Joel sat reading, but Jessica could not concentrate.
 
Twice she saw Martin Timmons walking through the airport.
 
Her stomach lurched and she flinched at the sight of him, but both times it ended up being someone else –a tourist and an airport worker.
 
Jessica felt edgy and shaky.
 
 
Stop haunting me, you bastard.

“Huh?
 
Did you say something?”
 
Joel looked up from his book.

“No, Hun,” she said.
 
“Nothing at all.”

The announcement to board was a relief.
 
Jessica wanted nothing more than to be out of Antigua.
 
Something told her that everything would be better once they got in the air.

She piled her bag in the overhead and sat in the window seat.
 
She fished the seatbelt out of the crease between two cushions and laid it across her lap as she settled in.
 
A large elderly woman, her skin orange and dry, jammed her bamboo bag under the footrest next to Jessica.
 
She slid into the aisle seat, the armrest biting into her fleshy thighs.

“Excuse me, Mam?
 
I think that’s my husband’s…”
 
Jessica looked up, confused.
 
Joel was sitting across the aisle four rows forward of her.
 
He was reading his book and did not look back at his wife.

---

The plane pulled up to the gate and the passengers shoved their way into the aisle.
 
Jessica watched Joel ahead of her in line.
 
She shuffled slowly forward until she was adjacent to the seat her husband had occupied.
 
There was something lying on the cushion.
 
Jessica’s fingers trembled as she picked it up.
 
She rubbed the light fabric between her thumb and forefinger.
 
One of the arms of the sundress hung precariously from a jagged tear at the shoulder.

Epilog

The man lay back on the beach chair.
 
He kept a careful eye on the woman as she read her romance novel.
 
She was just his type: young, innocent looking, and curvy.
 
The woman was newly married and naive, if he were to judge by her choice of literature and the brief conversation he had with her at the bar.
 
She was perfect.

He had caught her staring at him earlier that morning.
 
Staying in the Caribbean was a great idea.
 
He had spent years perfecting his body, so why not show it off on the beach?
 
It was always such a rush when he spied another man’s wife checking out his muscled body.
 
The man liked nothing better.

He had never had difficulty meeting women, but it was the innocent ones that really turned him on.
 
Antigua was filled with honeymooners, and the man liked a challenge.
 
His favorite type of woman was one who would have never dreamed of straying.
 
He liked conservative women and devoted wives.
 
It took a powerful man to turn a loving spouse into an adulteress, he thought.
 
The man got off on the ego trip.

He took a slug of water and closed his eyes.
 
It was time to relax.
 
He had spent the morning on the telephone with his lawyer back in the states.
 
They had just served wife number three her divorce papers.
 
He was glad to be out of the country while that
shitstorm
was going on.
 
His ex-wives had always been a real pain in the ass.
 
If it wasn’t so easy to take them for half their wealth he wouldn’t even bother with the loaded broads.
 
This new plan was better; the man could stay in Antigua while his lawyer dealt with the divorce nonsense.
 
He had no intention of ever speaking to his soon-to-be ex.
 
Rich women served their purpose, but they didn’t turn him on like the wide-eyed newlyweds.

His trip to Antigua had been fun, so far.
 
The man’s last conquest had been his sweetest yet.
 
He had noticed the receipt from the travel agency the day his goody-two-shoes wife insisted on helping the new couple move their furniture.
 
One look at that doe-eyed younger broad and he knew he had to have her.
 
The plan was simple at that point.
 
He booked a vacation to coincide with the sexy young thing’s honeymoon.
 
Fucking the bride during her honeymoon -that had been a first.

The woman had resisted his charms longer than most, but the man was not easily ignored.
 
He made sure that her husband wasn’t able to take care of her in bed.
 
It was another stroke of genius, the man thought.
 
The drug had worked perfectly, and he still had some left.
 

He watched the young woman walking into the surf while hubby sipped a Budweiser and slathered his arms with sunscreen.
 
The man would have no problem slipping a few drops in the fool’s beer.
 
Two fresh young wives on one trip?
 
The man smiled to himself.
 
It was almost too easy.