Masquerade

He crouches next to me, an expression on his face I have never seen. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Like I could bite your ass.’

He smiles, but that anxious expression remains in his eyes.

‘Do you want to rest for a bit?’

‘I’m fine now,’ I say and it’s true—I am.

‘Are you sure?’

I put my hand out and erase the frown on his face. This is a side of Jaron I did not expect to see. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

He sighs with relief.

‘I’m very hungry, though.’

‘OK, lunch will be ready in five minutes.’ He kisses me lightly on my forehead and pushes upwards. I watch him walk toward what must be the kitchen. I hear the sound of the fridge opening and look around myself. The house is airy and light. The windows are many and are all open. The furniture is mostly painted wood. Funky and totally cool. Long, transparent green curtains flutter at the windows.

I look at it all and wonder what I would have made of it a couple of hours ago. Sometimes life can be clearly divided into before this happened and after this happened. Important things—before my mother died, after I got cancer, after my son was born. For me it will be after I realized for sure that I was in love with Jaron. The air between us seems to have changed.

Now I have a secret. I am in love with a man who is a total stranger to me and who openly confesses to having a girlfriend. But the relationship is so odd that it even almost seems like a lie. And yet it can’t be. Both claim they are in a relationship. Some part of me mourns the loss of my carefree attitude. Another part of me is determined that I will not spoil my time on this paradise island. I am so confused I decide not to think for the next two days.

‘What’s for lunch?’ I ask.

He pops his head around the corner. ‘Goat curry, fava beans and rice.’

‘What? No fucking way am I eating a goat.’

He grins. ‘Just kidding. Mango salad and cold chicken.’

I stand up cautiously. The wooden floor feels cool and smooth under my bare feet. And I feel totally normal so I walk to the kitchen.

‘Who made the food?’

‘Herbert’s wife, Gwen. He’s the guy with the dreadlocks.’

With my palms on either side of me I heave myself up on the counter beside the coffee machine. I dangle my legs. ‘Hmm.’

He looks at me. ‘Jesus, Billie. You’re the only woman I know who would haul yourself onto my kitchen counter as if you were a construction worker. Any other woman would have given it a bit more sex appeal.’

I give my chest a little shimmy and watch his eyes change.

‘You’re going to end up on the end of my cock if you carry on with that much longer.’ His gaze blazes with lust and my pulse starts up.

I feign panic. ‘I’ll have to scream rape.’

‘Go ahead and scream,’ he advises calmly, taking a step toward me.

I feel his big, hot hands grab my breasts and squeeze them. My nipples harden on his palms. Very deliberately he pinches them. A shuddering gasp escapes me. His eyes sparkle as his mouth comes down on my parted lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that makes me groan. His lips are demanding and possessive. I am reminded of the way the dog holds his bitch down in a submissive pose before he mounts her.

He increases the pressure on my nipples. I moan and wriggle my hips restlessly. He breaks the kiss and using his teeth, yes, his teeth, cuts my damp knickers clean off at one side. He pulls them off, chucks them behind him and runs his fingers along the slit full of slick, hot moisture. His fingers stop just before they reach the swollen bud and his eyes travel upward and meet mine.

A slow smile touches his lips.

He circles the bud and I throw my head back so far I am looking at the ceiling. The ceiling is sky blue. I close my eyes with arms and legs splayed open, my hips grinding and rocking against his hand. The pleasure builds. And builds. I suck in my breath and then he stops. Just simply stops what he is doing.

I open my eyes and look at him half irritated, half in disbelief.

He has taken a step back and is watching me.

‘Why did you stop?’

‘I thought you wanted lunch.’

‘Oh come on. I can’t eat like this.’

‘Anticipation, Billie. Anticipation.’

‘If you don’t, I’ll sort myself out,’ I threaten and put my hand between my legs.

‘Don’t.’ He knocks my hand away. ‘It won’t hurt you to wait.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because it will be even better later.’

I take my hand away.

‘Now come and eat.’

‘Come here,’ I say.

He comes closer. I reach out my leg and put my bare foot between his legs. He is as hard as a stone.

‘See. This is harder for me than it is for you,’ he says.

‘You’re driving me crazy.’

‘I want to have lunch with you while you are naked.’

He puts his hands around my waist, lifts me off the counter, and puts me on the ground.

‘Go on outside and I’ll bring the food,’ he says and slaps my plump rump playfully.

My legs feel a bit wobbly, but they still work and with a sultry upward glance at him, I turn away and head toward the door that leads to the garden, purposely and exaggeratedly swaying my hips. He grabs my hand and pulls me back toward him. I crash into him, my breasts squashing on his hard muscles.

‘Anticipation, anticipation,’ I say innocently.

A slow smile spreads across his lips. ‘You’re on.’

I’ve never been naked outdoors before and it is both liberating and odd.

We sit on pretty wooden chairs that have been painted with orange flowers on a blue and green background. Someone has spread a tablecloth on the table and set it with colorful plates, utensils, blue glasses, a pitcher of iced water, and a vase of drooping flowers. He holds out the plate of chicken. I spear a thigh and put it on my plate and help myself to the mango salad as he heaps his plate with chicken.

Jaron winks at me and picking up a chicken leg eats it with relish.

I cut a small piece of chicken. It has been smothered in some kind of blackish-brown seasoning, and I feel pretty sure I will hate it. Jaron chews lustily. I bring the morsel to my mouth and pass it between my lips. To my great surprise it is delicious. I must have been hungrier than I thought. I glance at Jaron and catch him looking at my breasts. When he notices that I am watching him watching me he reaches out a hand and rubs his palm against my nipple.

I know he is trying to distract and entice me so I pretend to be unmoved by the provocation and carry on eating my salad. He swallows a mouthful of chicken and then suddenly leans sideways and taking my nipple in his mouth sucks it hard.

I smile tightly. Right. Two can play at this game.

I drop my fork and instead of simply reaching down to retrieve it I stand and bend from the waist so my butt is pushed out toward him and between the crack of my thighs swollen swirls of tantalizingly pink flesh are peeping out at him. I twist and look at him. He is staring quite hungrily at my glistening sex.

‘Sorry,’ I say sweetly.

He swallows the food in his mouth.

I go to sit down and somehow manage to trip and land in his lap. His cock is so hard it sticks into me.

‘Oops,’ I say and bounce slightly. His eyes fly to my naked breasts. These fake breasts are great. They bounce very well. I get up, making sure my nipples just graze the side of his mouth before I slide into the chair. Picking up a piece of mango I put it into my mouth, then lick and suck my fingers slowly. I swivel my eyes in his direction. He is properly riveted.

‘Would you like some mango?’ I ask, knowing he can’t very well say no. That would be tantamount to admitting defeat.

He nods.

I take a mango chunk in my fingers and standing up bend forward so my breasts are hanging like low-lying, ripe fruit. I put the slice into his unresisting mouth. He chews slowly and thoughtfully, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my thighs and back to my breasts. I straighten, rest my hip on the table and open my legs slightly. I am like an animal on heat, which come to think about it, I am. I want to lick his toenails.