8 comments/ 27283 views/ 13 favorites In Paradise Ch. 01 By: Ashes1990 Chapter 1 My name is Allyn Roemer, and these are the events that occurred before the moment I died. The beach by the caves is where I met him. His bronzed curls rushed in the wind as he ran towards me, the sun beaming off of his tan complexion, accentuating the crevices of his abdomen. His face was familiar to an extent or could have just been one of those faces. I highly doubted it. His chiseled facial features matched sheer perfection as they hustled in down the sand in a panicked frenzy. He was the type of guy I thought would pass me over, not even a hello or good-bye. It was a tad unfortunate that he had not, the hit was hard. As he peeled himself off of me my ears rang something fierce, the sound of his apologies fading in afterwards. "Sorry, sorry" he chimed. As he grabbed my hand and we dove behind the limestone beach wall, I could feel his arms wrapping around my lower waist pulling me closer to him. He was panting, as if there was not a bit of breath in his lungs that would suffice. As his chest rose up and down my eyes drifted slowly to meet his alluring gaze. His eyes were a bright forest green with a disarray of black flecks about it. I could hear the screaming of a hundred females fill the air as I got lost in them. It was a praise long due, such beauty deserved much adoration. I would have been lost to them if his lips hadn't moved. A thin line of the top and a subtle plumpness for the lower lip, a shade darker than the rest of his sun kissed complexion. His hand moved in front of my face for a first wave and then a second. Oh wait... I think he's talking. "Are you okay?" he said once more, a bit louder than the first several times. "Oh I'm fine" I managed to say without stuttering. Men and I were never always a good combination. I always seem to make a fool out of myself by stuttering, noting my obvious attraction, or saying something stupid. "Nothing my big ol' butt can't handle" I laughed, and cue my stupidity. If my skin was three tones fairer he'd probably get to see the blood rise in my face. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I could have sworn I crushed you in the sand" he finished as he began to kneel in closer inspecting my head for cuts and bruises. He ran his fingers through my neck length curly hair, dampened by my recent meeting with the sea. As he did my eyes widened and my heart quickened. I'm the type of girl that has never been so close to a guy. Not to mention we were kneeled down in a corner where hardly anyone could see us. I gently hit his hand away, which is mostly me trying to make it sound better when I say... I hit his hand away. "I'm entirely fine" I reassured him with an almost fake smile. I got up and dusted the sand from sticking to my bottom. "No worries here. See you around" I ran off wide eyed simply ready to go home. I had been on the beach today because I needed someplace to think. Finding a vacant beach on a weekday in New Providence isn't too much of a task. Although when the cruise ships come into the Bay it becomes quite a chore. However, I was lucky that the few good beaches were still unoccupied, well, mostly unoccupied. I climbed into my car, not bothering to get rid of the sand that stuck to the heel, sole, and between the toes of my feet. Right now, I was just embarrassed to high heaven. No real reason to be, I just was. "Are you crazy Lynn!" Cassandra blared over the phone. I had gone straight home and opted for a hot shower to wash off the sea salt and called one of my best friends to tell a story too. Not to mention the warm bowl of soup I was able to get from my parents house a few days ago. These were one of the few relatively free things to do on the island, swim, eat your parents home cooked meals, and gossip. "You should have totally stayed there and showed him a good time" she said with a smile. I could imagine her on the other end, the wireless phone cuddled up to her ear as she played one of the online games her family and friends gave up on convincing her she enjoyed entirely way too much. Even if that was the case, she was in a happy and successful relationship at 21. However, being at the same age and actually leaving the perimeters of my house to actually have some remnants of a social life, the number of successful relationships I've racked up over my lifetime was zilch, nada, cero. Only thing I have are the remnants of those that crashed and burned. "He also sounds like a tourist the way you describe him" she added. "You know there always coming over here and there looking for some sort of adventure." I fiddled with the soup in the bowl on my lap and in a few seconds decided I didn't want it. "With your soft voice and innocent demeanor all you had to do was look up and say 'ravage me'. He would have been at your beck and call. Wow and even if he was loaded, you would have been fleeced for a solid 3 days to a week. Of course depending on how long he was staying here." "You seem to have me confused with one of the characters in your semi-erotic novellas." I offered. "You know you want to be" she chimed. In the deepest darkest recesses of my soul was the small paper pushing elf of a girl that agreed to this statement. However, this was only because Cassandra's characters, although flawed in their own right, had been undoubtedly loved by men with success and outlook in life. Men with a sense of where they were going, how they were going to get there, and worth most of the admiration is that they knew what they wanted and wouldn't stop until they got it. Cassandra and I always knew we wanted to be authors; the hardest part of it was to find a publisher with enough faith in our ideas that strayed from the island life persona or to find $6000 dollars to publish it ourselves, either way we were at a loss. "Well it's a small island" she said. It sounded as if she was distracted for a moment, probably combating someone or whatever it is she does on those games of hers. "Let us hope for another chance meeting". ----------- "Ah Dex, please don't stop" she exclaimed, her voice resonating in the spacious condo. His thrusts were hard and long, and at other moments slowed, teasing his valley of warmth for the day until he came back up to speed. "Dexter" she'd slur. "Ha..r..der.... Fuahhh..... me harder" she'd coo with incomplete sentences. He knew though, what she had come for. She had knocked on his trailer room door asking for an autograph, trying to seduce him into giving her more than that. She came for one of his rumored fuck sessions. Of course it was one of the biggest tales in Hollywood at the moment, his expertise in the bedroom. Something he knows his publicist cooked up to promote his relatively spicy new movie "Along the Pink Sand". However, with her practiced smile she'd simply adjust her glasses with her left hand while holding her papers in her right and deny the allegations with a 'why whatever do you mean?' "Damn Brunette" he spat as he pummeled the blonde writhing beneath him. He decided to finally push her over the edge, grabbing her neck with one hand and holding her leg in place with the other. Faster he rode her, taking out pent up frustration on her body. His hips thrusting in an almost blur as he buried her back as far as the couch would allow. And as he came so did she, singing his name to the heavens. He fell on her and rested for a few moments before she muttered "You really are the best fuck aren't you?" she asked. He grimaced at her words and slowly got up, his now flaccid member slipping out of her with ease. He then took a few steps from the couch to the open kitchen as she cooed for him to return to her. He removed the condom and, instead of simply throwing it in the trash, he securely lodged it to the depths of the trash heap, closing the lid by lifting his foot from the black pedal. He spun around to watch wide eyes suddenly return to normal loving stares. His suspicions were right this time, although most times he does it for good measure. These girls he thought, you can't trust them as far as you can throw them. She was only waiting for him to be sloppy enough so she could nail him to her with a pregnancy scandal and child support bills. He made his way towards the stairs as he slicked blonde half curls to the nape of his neck. "Where you going?" she asked. "Oh yea" he started. "Carrie, you need to be out in ten" "Its Samantha" she said with a furrow of her eyebrows. "And what..." "Really, you sure it's not Carrie?" he shook his head, willing his sarcastic personality away. "Well Samantha" he said as he stuck his fingers in the air, spreading them out to either side of him standing there as naked and proud as the day he was born. "Clearly you haven't done this before" he said, then pointing his fingers downwards. "I want you out in ten minutes" as she opened her mouth to protest he added "I got security on speed dial so you better hurry up before I make it five" With a pouted fury she gathered her clothes and began to make herself look decent. As she used her last few minutes to polish off make-up and fix her hair a tear made its way into her eye. She cocked her head back before it had a chance to fall. "You knew this could happen before you went and did it so at least hold it until you get in the vicinity of your car" she thought. "If you don't leave soon I'll be tempted to dial 1" he shouted from upstairs. Her fingers dug into her palms as she stormed out of the condo doors, closing them as hard as humanly possible. A vase on a stand close to the door swirled and fell shattering on the floor. "Oh well that vase was top heavy anyway" he muffled into the sheets of his king sized bed. He woke up later to the desire to run a mile, or at least the stretch of beach that was offered to him. After putting on some clothes and sneaking passed his publicist, Jennifer Harding, he was able to step a foot on sun laden sand. He began with a few stretches here or there and started jogging on the farthest part away from the dry sand on the beach where most of the people laid soaking in the sun. After a few minutes in, the amount of people became scarce and he began to build some endurance by tracking in the sand. He was careful not to become winded and enjoyed the smell of the salt burdened air. The solitude of jogging on sand between the trees and the ocean was all too welcoming and they embraced him like he was brethren. However, to his demise the trees ended and a long stretch of road began to hug him from his absented side. He continued his trek until a tour bus came slowly by. The sudden screams, cries and flashing cameras made his eyes jar open and his feet picked up pace. The women of the tour bus almost killed the poor bus driver, trying to get him to stop. "DEXTER!" They wailed. And so began the small grin to his face and the sprint to the beach's end. Looking back on the mob of women he had gained a decent gap between them. But some of them were runners, others were just determined. Rounding a blind spot on the beach Dexter finally looked forward but it was two seconds too late. He hit someone and laid them flat out in the sand with his body. 'This mother--' was his first thought as he began to take in what he rolled in the sand. Her body was dampened, probably from just getting out of the water but it was soft to the touch. Her skin was like glistening topaz in her two piece bathing suit laying there basically spread eagle for him, her more than ample chest ready to fall out of it given the slightest push and oh God how he wanted to push. Held up by his palms over her body he began to feel her stir, and was surprised of the short time it took for his partner in crime to stand at attention. He quickly peeled himself off of her before the object of his desire was any wiser. "I'm so sorry. How stupid of me I wasn't watching where I was going. Sorry, sorry" He offered her his hand and soon heard the voices of adoring fans closing in. He took her hands and led her to the crook of a limestone beach wall. He hugged her back bringing her closer to him, satisfying his body's ache to be close to her with the benefit of being partly disguised by the ensuing mob. To anyone who sees they'd just be a couple having a bit of private time on the beach. He looked down into her eyes, the color of a perfect hazel and cinnamon blend. He occupied his time just staring into them, enjoying the electricity the closeness of their bodies brought. He hadn't noticed he was panting until late, hoping to God that it was as a result of the sprint and not this woman's effect. It suddenly scared him to think someone could hold so much power over him. As the crowd died down and sounded as if they had given up, he thought it safe to speak. "Hi my name is De-- Dylan" he almost shouted. "And you are?" but there were no words, just her simply searching his eyes for something. "Are you okay?" he began to question. 'I did hit her pretty hard' he thought. "Are you okay?" he asked once more, waving his free hand in the front of her face. "Oh I'm fine" she beamed. Her smile had him lost for words, how it danced on her face like faeries in the spring, almost touching her doe eyes that had more depth to them than the deepest ocean. "Nothing my big ol' butt can't handle" she added with a laugh. He eased out a chuckle at her body reference searching her face for more things he liked in her. "Are you sure?" he asked smiling. "I could have sworn I crushed you in the sand" he finished in an almost whisper as he found something else to adore. Her lips were almost hypnotizing, begging to be caressed with his. He kneeled in closer inspecting her head for cuts and bruises, but in reality was looking for the right moment to hold her head in his palm and claim her lips as his own. He ran his fingers through her neck length curly hair, dampened by the sea. As he had, he felt his hand tapped away. "I'm entirely fine" she assured him with an almost fake smile. She got up and dusted the sand from her full bottom, and at that moment he wished he could do it for her. "No worries here. See you around" she said beaming her pearly white teeth. She ran off to an awaiting sedan, picking the keys up with a set of clothing waiting on the beach. He watched her as she walked off but not just her features, her pleasantly round features that seemed to magically curve inward and outward in all the right places. No, it was her leaving from his grasps with no means to ever contact her, not even a name for the ever convenient chances of facebook. She hadn't even recognized him, which was actually something he particularly enjoyed. He casually turned around and made his way back to the condos not too far ahead. 'Girls like that with bigger assets and smaller waistlines are a dime a dozen' he assured himself and almost faltered as he heard how heartless he sounded. To be continued... In Paradise Ch. 02 He rode her like a stallion rides the earth, feeling it beneath his hooves as the smell of grass piping threw the air danced to a beat of fire through his nostrils as he panted for the energy to continue. Through her, he felt like a once captured steed set free through an open valley. He might as well have been, his long slick shaft pumping in and out of her continuously as she set free an eternal descant. Her voice pitching as the fever he set through her grew. He enjoyed the sound of her pleasure as he thoroughly took her, burying her back into the sea of soft linens, the same soft sheets she'd clutch between her fingers when brought to another orgasm. She felt one approaching, like a seed in her core that he had firmly planted, it began to grow and ripen until it eventually tore through her like hot shark infested waves would the sea. He was almost there, as he gripped her waist almost digging his fingers into her mid rift. His grunts became more audible as her screams began to simmer once more. 'Incite her', were his thoughts, 'inflame her, bring her over the edge as many times as possible before I finally go along with her' was his mission. He almost spent when he looked at her hooded gaze, her eyes revealing immense passion. "De... Ahhhhhhh!" was all she could manage before her orgasm claimed her voice. He could feel it as her walls tugged at him begging him to fill her up, and he did, ending it with a final thrust. As he bent to claim her mouth with his own, she sat up shortening the distance. Their lips intertwined fueling the fires of fervor between them. With the push of her hand she had him on his back as she straddled him, grinding against his spent member. With a lick and a bite of her lips be began to rise again. She guided his member to her wet sleek path, and resting the palms of her hands on his toned bronzed abs she slowly began to rock her hips back and forth in slight circular motions. She sped up as he tapped her ass, enjoying the sound it made as it resonated through the condo. He drew his knees in, grabbing her at the waist and met her thrusts more aggressively than she could give them. He gripped her where their laps met, her breasts swaying and bouncing at every mind blowing act of penetration. Eventually she gave up trying to keep up with him and fell to his chest as he continued to saunter in and out of her. He loved the feel of her chest as it moved when it met his, the way her arms rested on top of him and her hands and fingers wrapped in the tendrils of his blonde half curls. He adored the contrast of their colors and how they had come together to form one body. But what he loved most of all was the way she felt on the inside on the throws of passion, as she'd orgasm, and how her cries would push the limits of his sanity. He finally came, and wanted to call her name until he realized he had not known. To call her anything other wouldn't have satisfied him. She screamed as her final orgasm took hold of her, an enchanting spell that could give rise to any man. Panting in his ears she whispered "Dylan" was the name that rode on her breath as his eyes widened. "I love you." Tent. His eyes slowly opened and he stared at it, recollecting past events. Dream. "Right" he said as he lifted the thin layer of sheets from his body. He lazily dragged his feet over to the bathroom as he scratched himself in places the public might find offensive. His boxers fell to the floor as he stepped into the shower letting the cool ringlets of water ride his body in an effort to calm him. 'Dead kittens, pigeon guts, splattered brains' he thought as his head went back, his right hand propping him up against the shower wall. He looked up at the ceiling and then down at his swollen member. 'Still dreaming of her?' he asked it. He leaned forward, his head directly under the shower's nozzle as he took his index finger and dragged it from tip to shaft. 'I wonder how she'd do it' he'd thought as he willed his mind to replace the callous of his hands with the feel of her soft skin. Imagining the topaz of her hands wrapped around him as she jerked away, as he jerked away. Her hazel and cinnamon mix doe eyes looking up at him as her lips would part slightly from desire. How she'd kiss his head, the softness of her lips, and the moment when she'd begin to take him in. Enveloping the mass of his erection in a sea of "DEXTER!" came her shrilly voice. Never in his life has he ever seen a woman that attractive and never had a thought of how'd they'd be in bed. Jennifer Harding was a 6 foot leggy brunette with the body of a porn star, however that was far from her occupation; not that it had ever been offered as a career choice. She was Dexter's publicist and a mighty damn good one at that. Her lengthy frame came through the front door without a knock or announcement. "I have your schedule for filming next week right here" she said as she began to climb the stairs. She was a force to be reckoned with she was. Always spoke her mind and never really gave a damn about privacy however, she'd know when she'd reach the borderline and would always stop a whopping three millimeters before it. She heard the sounds of the shower as they slowly came to a halt. What she had not heard was Dexter's sigh of frustration as he heard her footsteps near. He had not strived for the few simple moments that it would have taken for him to gain release; he simply cast the thought to hell and quickly began to dry off. She stepped to his open room door and saw movement in the bathroom. She gave a smirk and turned around with the clip board held to the height of her head, standing at the three millimeter mark. Dexter walked from the bathroom, re-sheathed in boxers grabbing a pair of Levi's from his drawer. He slid them on, zipping and buttoning as he approached her. With his index finger and thumb, he gently tugged at the clipboard at her right as he leaned to whisper in her left ear. "You know you could have just left it on the table and left." "I could have just left it on the table and left but what is the joy in that when I can frustrate you and stop whatever it was you were doing in the shower." "So I'm not allowed to shower anymore?" "Shower, sure." She said. "I'll pretend that that's what you were doing." He leaned back into his personal space as she spun around staring at him as he analyzed the schedule. He had wondered how she had known his intentions of masturbating, 'she has the room bugged?' he thought. Although he shook the notion far from his mind it wasn't so farfetched. They both knew that he would soon grow tired of her façade of dominance, and she'd be out the door. As a matter of fact, he has been tired of her portrayal of power over him for some time; the only thing that kept her here was the fact that she was the best. She could spin a CNNBC headline of him allegedly raping child orphans and using their tears to power dooms day devices into an Emmy. However, the point in time that someone better came along he made a case in point 'she is on her ass in the cold'. It wouldn't be swift revenge though; she'd have another job molding some young actor's career in the headlines in a matter of seconds. Droplets of water fell from his hair to the paper as he looked down on it, not really memorizing or hardly reading, just giving it a glance over. He flicked it to the side to prevent ruining the paper, his chest still damp from the shower. "You wet me you know?" she commented as he was looking over the last sheet. She looked to her shoulder and dusted at the few droplets of water before they could soak into her navy blue coat suit. She looked back up at bright green eyes, one with a slightly raised brow. "Oh did I?" he asked. She sighed almost inwardly as she had to admit she gave him that one. She recuperated by pointing out important moments of the next few days. "You have to be to the dock at 8am and look for Stuart's Cove" she pointed out. She leaned into him and he smelt the raspberries from her hair. Then there was the scent of her perfume dancing about his head. However, he was unaffected. "They are going to be taking us and some crew members to another island half an hour away to shoot a few scenes needed for the movie." She smelt the scent of cologne from him, the subtle wave that waltzes around the nose instead of hitting you in the face from a distance. However, she was unaffected. Jennifer Harding and Dexter were point blank unaffected by each other, they were like the way fire and ice communicated. As fire eats away at ices body, the resulting water would begin to try and out its flame. Jen & Dex the media had called it six months ago. It seemed as if it was a dwindling fantasy, however, none that belonged to the parties involved. They were America's sweethearts for sometime although they had never officially dated. It was also surprising, seeing that Jennifer never held a role in any block buster or even menial films. They just seemed to fit together. Media members and heads alike simply waited for an official statement so that they could stop using the word "allegedly", the get out of jail free card in the media which allows reporters to accuse celebrities without really accusing them, also giving no rights for law suit to a certain extent for slander. Six months ago they sat in the boardroom of his agent's main office building, Vince Vanderpool, was the man who believed he was solely responsible for the Dexter Empire. Apparently, Dexter's acting had nothing to do with it, neither the fact that he hadn't let anyone know his real name since 5th grade. It was on record though, social security, life and health insurance, official documents and so on and so forth. However the great miracle that this information had not been leaked for cash for so long is due to the publicity handling of Jennifer Harding. No one knew exactly what she had done; a lot of it was thought to have been illegal. The only thing that was known for sure was that there were rumors whose source was unverifiable, of the outcomes of the person who leaked this information. The extent of the exaggeration and distortion of the original message was vast however; it worked effectively with minimal backlash. The fact that she was half of America's Sweethearts had nothing to do with the reason she was present in the meeting. Real reason being was that she was just damn good, proven it on several occasions also. Told agents what to do, they didn't do it and it caused quite a stir. A fire, for a lack of better words, she has always successfully extinguished. However, what had her in a cast was Charles Frothingham. He was what stood between her and head publicist for the Dexter empire. As soon as she's able to kick his feet from under him, he'll be on the ground she'd thought. "The Jen and Dex issue" started Vince. He looked at Jennifer, Charles, Dexter and a few others in the room, just the subordinates who proved useful from time to time when troubleshooting. "We could lose the free publicity tidal wave. We need something to prolong it. Go." "Ride it out" "A public address is long overdue" Vince retorted. "Admit to it being false" said a desperate one. "Are you a mad man!" exclaimed Charles. "That sort of thing is for the A-listers" He looked Dexter in the eye as he held out a hand. "No offense Dex" he said as Dexter nonchalantly shrugged. "He's sporting a good B+ but he still needs that %1 to push him over to the A-list. I think this is our extra credit boys and girls. The problem is which way to go? We take the romance with his publicist theme the flame can be out in a matter of moments if we're not careful. It's still astonishing the hype has lasted this long. Plus, we lose when the break-up hits if we don't play that right either. Not to mention the publicity that can come from supposed couplings of movie co-stars will be lost. If we negate this we can lose Dexter's fan base, females between the ages of 16 and 35." "35" Jennifer scoffed under her breath. That bastard, I do not look 35 she thought. Whether it was an intentional remark or not she took offense and she was ready to attack. "I'm pretty sure anyone with an undergraduate Marketing degree could have figured that much out Charles" said Jennifer as she leaned closer to the desk. She took her pen between two fingers and began to roll it between her thumb and index fingers of both hands as her elbows were propped to the table, trying her hardest to stifle the sound of her grinding teeth. Charles fiddled his pen in one hand as he leaned back in his chair, tapping the arm rest with the other. His legs were crossed as he slightly swiveled to and fro. "Although that is the case Jennifer" started Charles. "I wanted that out of the way to avoid solutions like..." "Make it a fact" said an eager one. It was rather sad, she hadn't been paying attention and wanted to be the hero of the boardroom. She had imagined herself as the one to say something clever, Vince would point at her with a wink and a gun rolling out the word 'genius' with a shine to his teeth. Charles would divulge just the slightest British accent when he said 'brilliant', while Jennifer would fold her arms and sit back in her seat with a 'difficult to place' pride as she'd say 'excellent kid'. That clearly wasn't the case. "See like that" said Charles as he used his pen for a moment to point at the girl. A few held their hand to their mouths for barely a second to smile and things were serious again. The girl never made a comment afterwards. "Hell no to that one" added Dexter. He hadn't cared much for the meeting, in fact hardly anything in life he hardly cared for except for one person in his past who even he hardly tries to remember. The pang his heart would feel wasn't worth it. No he hadn't cared; he just had a slight repugnance for Jennifer. Something about her being the dominant one just irked his soul. He scoffed as it came to mind, even the media made her dominant putting her name first and she's only the publicist! "The publicist" he muttered under his breath. She hadn't looked at him but felt his indifference and smirked. It wasn't the fact that she was dominant that peeved him, it was the fact that this dominance was over him. The farther she moved up the ladder, the control she seemed to have over him increased, like influence over which clubs he should go to and whom exactly to talk to. He hadn't been that type of person in life to judge a book by its cover, mostly because he had that nonchalant, 'I don't really give a damn' attitude about aspects of life. Although his mind never dwindled on the subject, he suspected that the fact that he made it so far in life with this attitude had to be the result of near perfect genealogy. If he hadn't been attractive he'd still be just as happy, maybe even more so as the slob big bellied unaccomplished high school undergraduate. Maybe he would have had the opportunity to drop out of college if no one gave a damn. However, the girls at the high school reunion wouldn't be revealing high beamed teeth leaving their 'oh so successful husbands' asking for autographs. It's one of the things he saw as a characteristic of all woman, and in others it was just dormant, a recessive gene. This was the tendency to always look for something better even though they already had something in their grasps. He was thankful for the ability to switch, although he still had a preference for women, it came in handy when the flocks of them were ready to crucify him with the nails of scandal. "I think that..." Jennifer started. In her heart of hearts she was only suggesting the action because the thought of it made Dexter furious. "... We should make it a fact." The intern that suggested it first made short head movements from left to right looking at everyone puzzled as if she hadn't suggested it less than 5 minutes ago. "What?" asked Dexter indignantly he was calm but fury made him want to stand up and bark mercilessly at the boardroom. "Come again." "Yes please do" said Charles. "To deny allegations of it could not only turn down free publicity but also shoot our target demographics in the heart." She started. "But to blindly go along with it could cause a problem because he loses any chances with being paired with Sophia Stone in the upcoming movie in the next 6 months completely voiding a big publicity blitz for the upcoming movie and forfeiting the chances to make the A-list" Charles sat up with his seat trying to play down his curiosity as Jennifer continued. "So?" asked Vince. "So" continued Jennifer as she looked in the faces of almost everyone in the room. Her eyes landed on Dexter when she said it, trying her hardest not to place a grin on her face afterwards. "Let me break up with him." She said. "He becomes the suffering hunk of a star and many women wouldn't mind taking my place. He's not doing the shooting so he gets the pity, we have a relatively consequence free publicity wave for at least 3 months and as it dies down, Dexter allegedly dating A-listed Sophia Stone in their movie together Along the Pink Sand will bring him to new heights and close to cement his position in the A-List if he doesn't do anything to mess it up of course" Dexter smirked as he swung in his chair a bit, doing what he did mostly to disguise insurmountable amounts of rage. He knew she had suggested it specifically to piss him off but he'd plan a trip to hell first before he would slip up and let her know she got to him. She shifted her glasses with her middle finger. "So what do you think?" she aimed the question at everyone but Dexter knew it was intended for him specifically. "I think..." started Charles. "That we should go along with it" continued Dexter. "It sounds well thought out and if you're able to fine tune the story to tell the press then I'm all for it. Vince" Everyone was taken aback for about 3 seconds before they all started agreeing, including Jennifer. She had thought she had pressed his buttons this time. She knew that Dexter hadn't the slightest inkling of benevolence for her but it's not the reason she vowed to piss him off in any way she can. It was not because, although deep down she truly believed that Dexter was an anti-feminist. Nor had it anything to do with attraction. Her reason was simply because she loved to make her employers helpless. They had all the power in the world to get rid of her and ruin her, but with her obvious talents they were all for not. She began consulting with Charles when the meeting was dismissed watching him leave with an almost enchanting smile. However, she was unaffected. He watched her as she dismissed him from her mind with a whip of her hair and a sway of her hips however, he was unaffected. They were just as unaffected by one another as they are presently, Jennifer indicating the last of the mandatory points on the filming schedule. Six months later, while the media eats up the last of the Jen and Dex story, not knowing the allegations they will be fed about Dexter and Sophia. "You got that tough stuff?" asked Jennifer. "Yup" said Dexter as he shut the door in her face. She smiled as she took her leave. In Paradise Ch. 03 "Hello Paradise Fisheries." I kindly chimed into the receiver of the wireless phone. It is the store I work in, mainly office work and cashing. As I heard the young man complain I rested my hand in my head watching the seconds tick by on the clock not too far away from me on the wall above the craw-fish tanks. "Tick-tock," I muttered. "Almost 5 o'clock." "What!" he exclaimed. "Are you even listening to me?" "Quite frankly, no sir I'm not," I said as I rolled my eyes. I'm pretty sure the sudden injection of gumption was due to the fact that we were talking over the phone and not face to face. "I want to know your name!" he almost screamed. "I'm a customer at your establishment and I'm highly dissatisfied, and not to mention this customer service." "Well sir," I replied. "You should have thought about that before you started screaming at me through the phone and maybe I would have been able to solve your problems." "What your name!?" he barked. "Allyn Roemer," I said as I began to spell it slowly and condescendingly as if he was retarded. It was just to further piss him off. "A.L.L.Y.N R.O.E.M.E.R," I continued. He had tried to stop me halfway through with the repetition of 'I get it' but I still pressed onward. "Its 3 minutes to 5 and I'm sorry to inform you sir but we are now closed," I said with a smile, ending with just a hint of sarcasm. "Bah-bye!" "You are definitely going to get fired now," said Rinishka. She was a short little black ball of chocolate, at least that's what I liked to call her. Her skin was the color of deep chocolate and she was quite rotund. However that never took away from the delicate features of her face. She was one of those girls who could pull of a good bit amount of weight, not that she was entirely fat, just a big short girl. In other words, like I had said she was a little black ball of chocolate. "Good job," she smiled. "Yeah, that man will come in as irate as ever on Monday, call me out, and hopefully I can get out of this place." I said. "Why can't you just quite again?" she asked. "I owe the bastard money and he won't let me earn it any other way," I lied. Antonio Vasquez and I graduated from the same high school together. I wasn't the Valedictorian or anything but I was rather smart. I would have gotten a scholarship to go to school if I hadn't been misinformed of the deadline. This, I might add, "mysteriously" had been as a result of Antonio's uncle who is one of the counselors at Saint Abbey's College. He had told me the deadline was two weeks after the actual deadline, so when I had come thinking I was a week early I was actually an entire week late. They had to decline my application because it wouldn't have been fair to the other students. I could almost cry back then. I wasn't dirt poor but my parents couldn't afford to send me to some fifty thousand dollar per semester school in America or England somewhere so I had to stay home at the University of The Bahamas. Moreover, the fees were about 5,000 dollars which included books and other essentials but I hadn't been able to scrape up even nearly a grand. My family would have sacrificed a few bills to send me to college, they knew I was worth it but I wouldn't let them. Instead, I borrowed the money from Antonio, the boy I knew from since we were kids. He was rich; most of my friends were actually. But despite popular belief, not all rich people look down on lower society. That is of course neglecting the fact that they may smile in your face and do it behind your back. I always held my own, and the fact that I never asked them for anything probably granted me their respect. "Are you serious?" asked Antonio. He sounded worried for my well being, and how I had been fooled by his fictitious smile. He took a hand to my back and tried to console me. "Yeah," I answered. "I guess I'll wait a year or so and try to start my freshman year then I guess," I concluded. "No," said Antonio. "Waiting a year is like suicide." "But I can get a job and buy a car, move out, and be able to support myself a little bit." "Or..." "Or what?" I asked him. "Or you can borrow the money from me," he said cheerfully. "Wait, scratch that I'll lend you the money because God knows you're not going to ask for it." As I began to protest he put his finger to my lip ever so gently. He held me at the back and brought me close to him as his hands slid down further and he reluctantly stopped at the nape of my back. "And you can pay me back," he said. "It is not a gift or charity as you like to refer to it." Back then I wasn't able to put a definition behind what I saw in his eyes, but the word is apparent to me now. It was lust. "You can work with me part time for a year at one of my father's businesses." He had started off. "God knows I'd like some company" he smiled. "Or" "Or?" I prodded. "You can sell me your body." At the thought I tried to pull away from him but he quickly grabbed a wrist. "I'm only joking Allyn, it's a joke. Like ha ha." He smiled again, but this time it was a bit awkward and slightly regretful. "You can even choose which business if you remember them well." He added. I looked at my wrist and back at him as he reluctantly loosened his grasps. I fixed my clothes and answered him. "Well let me think about it at least, ask my parents what they think about the change in plan," I said. I couldn't meet his gaze and he knew it. I reached as far as his lower lip, avoiding his large hazel and emerald dusted eyes. Those were the same eyes that got him all the ladies in high school. The same eyes that stole the hearts of many girls at St Abbey's. Some charm they held over many female and some male folk a like that made the green beast rear their ugly heads, at me. Thank God high school days are over. "Good bye Antonio." In the end I took the offer to work for his father, but a few of my closest friends who I told the story to had told me that there was something more to it than the comment being just a joke. They said I'm as naive as a retarded hamster, and that I never saw how he looked at me with hooded gazes. "The wicked things he probably dreamed of doing to you Allyn" Cassandra had started. "I could see it in his eyes." She continued. She took a bite of her burger, the one that never looked like the display picture they show you while I played with my chicken nuggets. We sat in an empty fast food restaurant a couple blocks away from school. "Plus there are the stories the girls he's dated tell," she said with a full mouth. She swallowed, "From them I could tell he is a perfect sadist." "Selling him my body is not really a request that you would think came from a sadist," I said as I hit a nugget with a French fry. "Hey. You don't damage goods until AFTER you've paid for it," she retorted as she pointed at me with another French fry before she stuffed it into her mouth. Cassandra was like the color of heated caramel with a giant black puff on top. Her nose flared on its own, however, if you were to piss her off and it could expand for about a mile. We've teased her about it on several occasions. I'd never mentioned it to Rinishka, mostly because I never knew how she'd react to it. Her family the Wisdoms was rather odd and liked me very much. I hadn't needed them to go all out on the guy. He never touched me wrongly and he was still my childhood friend overall. The only thing that worried me was Cassandra's perception of the situation. However, in the words of Homey on the television show In Living Color, "Allyn don't play that." I could almost laugh as I remember the antics of that show if it wasn't for this incessant depression over my current state of affairs. "Look Antonio's back." said Rinishka. I looked outside to see him pull into the parking lot in a company vehicle. Rinishka looked at me through the corner of her eye as she saw me hurriedly pack my things to leave. She thought I hadn't noticed but I have on several occasions. She probably asked herself many times why do I constantly run from him at the end of the day when he's finished company errands, avoid him on the rare occasion that he has to stay to work, or never take him up on a ride home as opposed to catching the bus. She probably figured that I'd tell her in my own time and waited patiently, also becoming the "unbeknownst" to me informer of his arrival. But I knew. "Now that he's here you don't mind if I," I started. "Yea I don't mind," she said. "I'll close up, you go run and catch the bus," she said with a hint of sarcasm. She knew it wasn't the reason I always left before closing. In fact I usually don't leave until 4 o'clock or 4:30. But I don't take lunch so the boss can't really get entirely mad. Oh wait, aren't I trying to get fired? I should try that sometime. Anyway, Rinishka knew it wasn't the reason however she feigned ignorance and I live another day without contact with Antonio. As I zipped passed him on the farthest side of the parking lot, I could feel his eyes weighing me down and begging me to stay put. I faltered for a moment and made the mistake of looking his way. He looked as if he were in suspended animation as he stepped down from the truck. I could almost feel his regret as he watched me climb onto a bus and was out of sight. The sudden sound of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 soon filled the space where I sat. I dug in my bag hurriedly as if my life depended on it. "Hello?" I answered. "Guess what," said a familiar voice. It was Gabrielle, another one of my friends from high school. "I have tickets to Aura," she sang. "How'd you-?" "I know this guy. So we going?" "Umm yea but-" "Okay, Saturday at 10" she said hurriedly "minutes Allyn bye!" The line went dead as I sat their staring at the phone, hoping I'd be able to borrow the car tomorrow night or somehow, Gabrielle would mystically appear and carry me half way across the island. I sighed as I got ready to meet the end of my ride. In Paradise Ch. 04 The music was loud and the base was the only thing that prevented it from scrapping the inside of your skull. Instead it was like a ball with thorns that played about the inside of your head. At that moment I had regretted tagging along to an all girls outing. Cassandra had picked Gabrielle and I up so we could go to Aura, a night club on Paradise Island. At first I had dressed real nice so that I could get some guy's attention, have some fun on the dance floor, then abscond; leaving him in suspense afterwards to never be heard from again. The night was taking a turn for the worst when I stepped out of my house into Cassandra's car and her first "compliment" for the night was hardly appetizing. "You look like a hooker," said Cassandra. She squinted while some person passed us in the next line with his brightest lights on. "Jackass," she muttered. She glanced over at me and felt the tension. "You know I mean it in a good way," she smiled and chuckled. "Yes, being compared to someone who sells sex for money is exactly how I want to start the night out," I said sarcastically. I wasn't uncomfortable for the rest of the night because Gabrielle, God bless her, dressed in the same scant clad manner as well as every other girl in the club. In fact, they made me look like a nun in a strip club. The lights were hypnotizing and the music was blaring, the mood was just right for a fun night but for some reason I just wasn't feeling it, however that feeling didn't last long. As I looked around a man from across the room stared at me while he enjoyed the company of two other woman. It was such a stare that in any other setting it would be downright creepy. His suit was neatly pressed but was in a somewhat shamble. His hair was the color of a perfect black sapphire resting neatly on his brow until he would take his hand and run his fingers through it. It was then he decided that he'd buy them their last drink for the night. As the girls laughed amongst themselves enjoying the fruity cocktails and licorice shots, he excused himself and walked my way. I hadn't meant to make eye contact but it was difficult diverting from his blue eyes; a type of cerulean you just get lost in. He touched my shoulder and brought his hand down until his hand stopped at my elbow; he gently tugged me and pointed his head towards the dance floor. I smiled thinking to myself how I ought to enjoy tonight because I might get fired in two days. The dance floor was packed, so much so there was hardly any leg room. He held me close and we danced to the beat the DJ had just spun. He stared into my eyes until I slowly closed them, leaving him mentally to feel the music. He enjoyed the nape of my neck when I spun around and the way I'd enjoy the beat of the music, moving the way the tempo told me too. I ground against him not realizing the lushness of my body as well as the tempo of the music set a fire to him until I felt something stiff poke at me. I quickly came to, the music had set some sort of dance craved beast loose and I quickly recollected. As I tried to turn around he held my hips and pulled me even closer. His hands roamed my body and I felt him as a hand cupped my breasts and another up a thigh. He brought it up slowly as he squeezed my chest gently and began to nibble at my neck. My body had thought of betraying me as soon as I felt the electricity he had started but as he brought his hand up closer and closer, I began to see the few instances of people who stared at me with envy. We were hardly dancing anymore other than the subtle movement of hips we'd display; instead we looked more like a demonstration of foreplay. I tried to pull away and at the slightest inkling of resistance, he held me to him tighter. He played with a nipple while his hand slowly traveled down my dress, between my thighs, parting me and stroking. I gasped, only a few people were any wiser with what we were doing, more like what he was doing to me, the darkness of the room masking the altercation. I could hear his fingers in his mouth before he went back for more, pushing aside my undergarment, stroking liberally as he made my blood rise, and making the small efforts to break his grasps almost cease and desist. His breathing was heavy as it trailed passed my ears; his hands felt wanting and greedy for me as I wriggled in the curve of his body. With all the residual might left within me, I pulled away as he licked his fingers enjoying what fragment of crumbs he got from the cookie jar. As I fixed my clothes and ran outside the Casino of the resort; away from the music and mixed emotions I felt like I heard it. His final thought was like a lust filled desire like he had decided he couldn't do with a simple taste. But that's crazy talk, maybe it was my own wishful thinking, and that thought scared me. I walked around the vast space that was the Atlantis resort until I could regain my composure. I sat out on the beach scrunched in the sand next to a small hut as I enjoyed a subtle breeze's wisp through my hair. The sand would feel like a million tiny granules of sugar as I weaved my toes through it and I suddenly was hit with the realization that my friends wouldn't know where I ran off too so I had reluctantly sat up and began to return. As I used the wall to get up a hand found its way flat against my own, looking up to gaze into cerulean eyes once again. "Um, ah," was all I could say before he hushed me, claiming my lips for his own. There hadn't been a lot of times where I had been kissed, in fact there were hardly any. It was then I felt a whole new rush of emotions different from whenever I did myself a favor in the shower. My heart burned as its beating sped. My knees began to weaken however the tall blue eyed stranger wasn't letting me go that easily. His free arm wrapped around my waist and helped me stand as he began to devour and enjoy his meal was his absolute plan. "Wait no," were my muffled pleas as I willed desire away. But will was only logical in the absence of temptation. "I," was the word that escaped my lips as he began to nibble at my neck like it was the strawberries I smelt like tonight. I hadn't known when it happened but it had, I was sitting in sand with my back against a hut and my dress hiked up to the waist. My bra was lying somewhere in the sand as if abandoned and the only thing with cloth was my midriff and feet. "Naughty girl," was what he said when he stared at my undergarment, a thong that left almost nothing to the imagination. "Wait n-no," I stuttered. "It's so you don't see a panty line on my dress." He simply chuckled and couldn't stop. It had very soon turned into a hearty laugh and I felt utterly ashamed of myself. Getting up to find my bra and leave, my hand was given a sudden tug and I fell backwards into his arms. "You're very cute," he said. And with those simple words I felt desire come out of hiding, however, logic had already been fueled by embarrassment. "I'm sorry." I tried to squirm out of his hands. "My friends are probably worried about me." It was then I realized how big he actually was. With the thought of me leaving his hands gripped around my wrist tighter and although I wished it was my imagination, I felt something poke at my rear where I fell into his lap. I said nothing and stared into his eyes hoping that that was enough to convey to him that I didn't want to. His eyes had lost focus, as if they weren't looking directly at anything but geared by lust. It was then he laid me in the sand hoping I would comply but I had still tried to leave. I saw the glimmer of regret in his eyes when he pinned me down. It was then I began to wriggle and began the start of a scream when he bit me in the inner thigh. I stifled a yelp. "I only want a taste," he said with a hush. The man was huge, able to bite my inner thigh and then look me in the eyes without giving up too much strength to break free. "You mother fucker" was all I shouted before he decided to deal with my fury. He straddled me as he began to take off his belt and I gasped for breath unable to properly scream with his weight across the point where my chest and abdomen met. He then dragged me into the hut as I kicked and tried to scream through his muffling hand. I was thrown on the sandy floor, the dirt flying up as he did. I tried to kick away from him as I begged. "Please. Don't," I cried. "I'm a virgin I can't," was stopped by his belt as he fastened it to my open mouth and tightened it around my head, afterwards, tying it to the centre pole of the hut. My hands scrambled for the restraint but were stopped when he held them above my head. I was in a panic, eyes widened with fear knowing I shouldn't carelessly fight but what else was there to do? I tried to kick, wishing that I hadn't taken my heels off in the first place. But he hadn't budged, simply looking down on my floundering body and smiled. "I told you," he said with a raise of his brow. "I just want a taste." I moaned in pure agony defenseless against this man who now seemed larger than life. Tears of sorrow and rage fell to the side of my cheeks before I felt him between me as electricity sparked up the center of my back causing me to arch from the ground. My mind danced in the mixed emotions of sexual passion, fear, and the desire to escape. I had no coherent thoughts just screaming and begging of mercy that couldn't find their way to restrained lips. My legs tried to clench to stop him but I couldn't work around his shoulders. In some occasions I'd get his head but it had done nothing, every muscle in his body was stronger than my legs combined and my squeezing thighs simply kept his face where it wanted to be in the first place. There it was his thoughts again, although I hadn't known t at the time. He loved my spirit, thinking how I dare think my feeble hardly trained body could compare to his. He loved its soft lushness, a variety of fitness that was seemingly untouched by any muscle. He started by giving me a kiss on nether lips parting them to taste my entry way. My back arched as my body fought itself and he laid another kiss, this time nestled in the fold of my gateway. His nose tickled its way up as his lips continued to praise the rest of his now private cookie jar. His kisses were starving ones, every lick, slurp, and tonguing saunter was intended to take me. He took his free hand and had it aid in his face's investigation feeling how womanhood desperately drew his finger in. Touching, probing, and playing was its job as he kissed the bite mark he made moments ago apologizing for it. I hardly heard it; I would be more inclined to listen to my own tear drops as they hit the sand rather than his moaning and expressed enjoyment of my body. I cried because I hadn't wanted it, and I cried for the lack of control of my own damn body's desire. A very long time ago I had unwillingly stopped fighting him. My legs squeezed not to stop him from going down but to stop him from coming up. It was as if my body had abandoned my mind and went to receive what he was offering. It was a helpless frustrating feeling that not only he had over powered me but also made my body refuse to listen. All I was now was thoughts in abandon, lying their taking what he wanted to give. A muffled moan escaped my lips as he ate up his reward like a wolf dying from dehydration. He laid on top of me moving sand from the tear stains on my cheeks and played in the tendrils of my hair. "Would you bite me if I kissed you?" he joked as he kissed each lip separated by his leather belt. He sounded hurt when he said it but none was more hurt than I. "I know I said all I wanted was a taste," he whispered to me as if we were lovers hiding on the beach. "But you see he wants a taste as well," my eyes widened waiting for him to clarify. "I'd let you do me a service like I did you but I know you'd bite me," he said. "I can't control your mind for some reason, only your body is at my disposal," he added. "It's so interesting, you're the first to resist me up to the point I've made physical contact. Your mind should belong to me now," he said as he shifted his weight. "No matter, there is still a part of you that still aches for me," he smiled. After his strange words he slowly got out of his pants and showed me what I had been dreading the entire time. My body kicked with my will but not by much. He smiled as he brought it closer to me, his eyes and thoughts filled and blocked with desire. His only thought was to saunter in and out of me for centuries if it was possible; to be near me at every waking moment of the day and to hold my body close as evening reared its moonlit skies. How he'd squeeze me in the cold of the night and keep me close. But these thoughts weren't my own! I was confused and terrified as I made a feeble attempt to break free of him when I saw it. I hadn't thought then about a single mother pregnancy as I watched the pre-cum ooze from his tip. I had not fathomed how he may slit my throat when he was finished because after all, I had seen his face. My thought after the glimpse of his member was will it fit? I was convinced I would tear and my sanity broken into tiny shattered pieces. I threw my head back while tears welled in my eyes as I felt his manhood part me searching for the entrance. The tears fell when my body decided to leave again, when it decided it wanted this thing, this interesting rod thing inside of it. I shut my eyes as I felt the walls of my nether regions clench and release frivolously waiting for him to find me. It had, the head was in and I moaned an inebriated eroticism of pain and frustration escaped my clasp lips when he brushed a tendril of my hair from near my eyes and the sand from my face as a result of my head rolling in denial. "I'll go slowly," he said. "I promise. I will make this good for you," he said as he kissed a cheek. "So good," he said as he nibbled a lip. He grabbed a nipple as he began to slowly push threw me. He concentrated with all his might not to hurt me however; he was losing the control over my body. "Don't move," he said as he caressed me, gaining control over my body once again. "I might accidentally hurt you," he chuckled lightly. He started again. "I can tell you're tight," he almost moaned as he came to it, the marker of my virginity. "Are you ready?" he asked. I replied with an agonized moan, wondering why he was torturing me in this way. Is he demented, sick maybe? I shook my head in the negative when he twirled a nipple and a moan almost sounding like pleasure came as a response. He drew back ready to thrust when all he could taste was shoe and sand. "Allyn!" screamed Gabrielle as she helped me from the sand carrying my abandoned clothes, unclasping my face from the leather belt. Kassandra stood between him and me as he scrambled to his knees. "Just let me kiss her one last time," he pleaded. "My love!" he beseeched, trying to get a glance at me only to taste Kassandra's shoes once again. "You bitch!" said Kassandra as she began to pummel him. She stopped when she realized how big he was when he got up from the sand. He looked confused as he looked at himself in shambles, wondering how the hell he got that way. He looked at me once again and the thought was fuzzy but it was the last one of his that registered to me. He had realized what I was, cursing himself for losing self control and fled. "You bastard!" shouted Kassandra as she began pursuit but I shouted after her. "No Kassandra!" "But Allyn he'll," started Gabrielle. "He didn't do anything," was the lie I muttered to them as well as to myself. "Allyn we saw," said Kassandra angrily. "We saw him in you," she started to cry. "He did nothing." "But..." "HE DID NOTHING!" I finally exclaimed as I fixed my clothes and dusted off. I stormed off as my friends followed a few steps behind, ready to cry for the girl who had stopped a long time ago. In Paradise Ch. 05 I apologize to those who read the fourth chapter of the story and were confused by it. Explanation being I had to change the category and had decided against it. Also I hope the fifth and sixth chapter clears some things up. But I do thank-you for the feedback so I can do better in the future. This story is now going to appear in the fantasy section of the site although it is still a romance genre. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Hello Paradise Fisheries," said Rinishka as she tried to devote her attention to the new client on the other end of the telephone line. Much to her dismay, she was partly distracted. It was finally Monday and I had been called into the manager's office to be dealt with about my rude phone call. I was partly there listening to my deserved scolding but half of me was lost. It was just like Rinishka, half of her was answering the phone while the other half wanted to be in the room. I only knew because of the residual effects of the incident last night. I had gotten little sleep afterwards and always felt fearful when something as small as the wind rustled the bushes outside. I couldn't understand what I was going through; one part of the night had been spent crying feeling sorry for myself. While another part of the night would be spent lying in bed, eyes dry from being open just staring at the ceiling. Sleep finally came for a few moments when I repeated to myself it hadn't happened. Over and over like a broken record; it hadn't happened, it hadn't happened, it hadn't happened. I had chosen to just forget it. It was harder than I thought especially when you have good friends that witnessed the event. On our way home that night their thoughts of pity and mourn flooded my head and I turned the music louder to drown them out. The whole I'm hearing people's thoughts thing was quite a reminder as well. I had chalked it up to being a symptom that rape victims endure, though the thought of the event contradicted my endeavor to erase it from memory. As crazy as it sounds I felt I could hear people's thoughts. At first I thought it was imaginary. This was until I would look at the person whose thoughts I'd believed they belong to and 9 times out of 10 their facial expressions would match what was thought. Nothing was ever crystal clear though; some thoughts would be displayed to me like pictures associated with a word or two. Others would just be darkness accompanied by some hard to hear banter. It was as if every mind was a puzzle, and because every mind thinks differently I would have to interpret it in a different way. I could hear those of Rinishka outside the door. It was futile trying to stop them from entering my mind, just as futile as it was to try and tune in to others' thoughts. It was like you either heard them or you did not. "Yes I would like to place an order please," started the lady on the other end. "Okay go ahead ma'am," said Rinishka. "I would like to order 15 crates of whole lobster several kits of your freshest fish and if you have salmon I would greatly appreciate knocking another thing off of my to do list." "Is this a joke ma'am?" "Do I sound like I'm the kind of person that jokes?" she asked. "Does my voice sound funny to you?" "No it's just that people usually get a large quantity of fish straight from the dock. But I'll be happy to oblige," said Rinishka typing the info into her stone-aged computer in front of her. "May I have a date when this is supposed to be ready for?" "21st of this month." "Delivery or pick up?" she asked "Delivery," she said. "When should I make the deposit for?" "The entire amount or a 50% deposit one week prior to the delivery date ma'am and any balance upon arrival. May I have an email address to send the invoice?" "You can fax it but address it to Jennifer Harding, I'm just the messenger," she said as she gave a fax number. Details started to become fuzzy but I soon heard things more clearly. "Alright, have a good day ma'am." "Please, call me lily, and you too child." It was exactly what Rinishka wanted, a big order to interrupt a big meeting. She began to fill out the rest of the information on the form and print it. It was the first time that the laser printer had not been fast enough. "Are you even listening to me!?" he shouted. Mr. Vasquez's face read fury all through the subtle lines of his aged face. Lines I hadn't remembered being there in my childhood. He had the face on, the one Antonio and I dread along with the vehemence that came with it and I was receiving the brunt of it. "What were you thinking!?" said Mr. Vasquez. "Are you out of your God damned mind child!? Do you want to get fired, is that what you're looking for?" he asked. I hadn't heard them before, his thoughts that is, but they started to come in like a bad signal from a radio station. I hung my head down to hide the signs of a headache and shame, never mind it was a shame I intentionally brought upon myself but I never thought that its effect would be this potent. "We didn't need any more secretaries," he said. "I did this as a favor to you." It was a blow to the heart. Mr. Vasquez had done nothing to me; he had always been sweet to me. Oh God what had I done? This man had given me rides to school when I was a child, I practically knew him all my life. But how could I tell him that I technically wasn't allowed to quit. He moved his hands through his hair in thought, running through the brown and grey strand mix. I desperately needed to remove myself from his son Antonio. How could I explain that I needed him to fire me because his son was a creeper who offered to buy my body and that every time our gazes accidentally met, his was a lustful stare? I knew Antonio all my life or at least for a great majority of it. I knew when he was joking and I knew when he was serious. "You can work with me part time for a year at one of my father's businesses." He had started off. "God knows I'd like some company" he smiled. "Or..." "Or?" I prodded. "You can sell me your body." At the thought I tried to pull away from him but he quickly grabbed a wrist. "I'm only joking Allyn, it's a joke. Like ha ha." Only thing it wasn't a joke, I knew him, and what scared me was he was entirely serious. There was a time in the supply room that I never wanted to remember. I had just finished doing a little office cleaning and had put the broom and dust pan back into the supply closet and behind me, he was there. The room was suddenly darkened when he held me close and dragged his hand gently up my elbow. "Allyn please stop fearing me," he said but there was no reply. I stood there in utter shock, speechless and as stiff as a stuffed animal as I tried to put my hands between us uncomfortably. That was the start of my not talking to him. It was a month or so after his offer to buy my body and that awkward feeling would always rise within me when I would see his face. "I don't fear you," I said half heartedly I admit. "Of course you do!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "We haven't spoken directly in a month." "Of course we've spoken," I said. "Why just last week I told you about the order for Ms Wilkinson and ..." My words were cut off when he gripped my arms and shook me; I bit my lips in true fear. "Those don't count and you know it," he said hurt. I knew it, in fact I knew that was the longest we've never talked since Kindergarten and he stole my red jello cup. I remembered how pissed I was at him for that and how he apologized and explained how his mom won't let him eat jello. Something about red dye he explained. He apologized so much back then, scared to lose a friend. But this was different now, I'm not jello. I wasn't something that can be easily bought and used. "I'm sorry Antonio" I said. I began to shake him off and walk away but he retaliated. Before I knew it I was backed up against the wall. He breathed deeply as I looked up at him with wide eyes. He then moved on the side and let me pass with a regretful sigh. I never wanted to remember it but it was necessary. I needed to prevent myself from apologizing, I needed to stand my ground and finish what I started. I needed to be fired. He struggled to say the words he knew he should, no one would blame him if he had. However, his thoughts, though unclear expressed mixed emotions about the situation. "Mr. Vasquez?" said Rinishka as she peeped through the door. She waved a white receipt through the crack in the door before she fully entered, almost like a flag. It was probably required due to Mr. Vasquez's hot temper at the moment. "What is it Ms. Wisdom?" he said irritated. "I don't mean to interrupt," she stated. Which of course we both knew was a lie but we let her continue. "This is a really big order due at the end of the month that you probably need to prepare for well ahead of time," she said. "Like now." "Can it wait?" he asked. She shook her head in the negative. "How big is the order?" She read him the details that I already knew from reading the responses from Rinishka's head that the lady gave on the phone moments ago. Delight and trepidation tangoed on the lines of Mr. Vasquez's face as he read over the invoice to make sure he had heard correctly. "Well then," he said with a half smile. "You can go Ms. Wisdom." He directed his gaze towards me and after what seemed like forever he addressed the situation. "Since you can't work properly as a secretary," he said as he rose from behind his desk. He grabbed his work satchel and cell phone, afterwards attempting to shut down his laptop and pack it. "I can either fire you or reposition you," he stated as a matter of fact. As he took his leave he brushed passed, stopping directly beside me. He hadn't looked at me and stared straight at the exit. If I wasn't the only other person in the room I wouldn't have known he was speaking to me. "Let's see how you work as a guy," he said and like a breeze he was gone. I came to work the next day knowing what that line meant. I'm not that slow, although afterwards I wished I was so that I could use my secretary attire as an excuse not to fulfill my new duties. Handling fish was now my job. If we bought it from another fisherman I was to help unload it and weigh it in. If we were selling it I was to aid the customer by unloading it and weighing it in and if it were to come from one of our vessels then I was to unload it and weigh it in. You probably get it by now. I smelt like fish for the entire day to the point where on a day off I was scared I'd sweat it if I wasn't careful. I wore an old pair of overalls most days, some were long with holes in them while others stopped mid thigh which I wore when the long ones were dirty. My hair was in two most days, a wad of curls on both sides of my head which made me have to convince people that I was not a child and that this wasn't against child labor laws. However, I hadn't had to do much explaining when they'd see the rest of me. For a time I hadn't enjoyed being in the company of men however it was not as hard as I thought it would be. The guys weren't rude to me; in fact I liked how they treated me as a person between an equal and a little sister. There would be times were they would feel guilty that a girl would have to do as much work as a guy would for some odd reason. It was to some regard upsetting that I had to remind them what century we lived in. Apparently these were the men who lived during the time their friend chivalry was still alive. The day came, the big order, a very frustrating one for everyone. This day was the rare occasion we actually had to wear a uniform. We were all messy from the delivery from a previous order and couldn't wait to make one of the last drop offs of the day. I hopped out of the van first and felt a sudden stream of insecurity wash over me. It was the set of a movie and everyone looked exquisite. It was the cliché beach scene with fit young men and women parading around, some holding scripts appearing as if they were memorizing lines as I stood there staring. A hand patted my shoulder from behind and I felt cold. I didn't like surprises anymore, they made me more fearful than I ought to be and suspicious of almost everything around me. "You like wha' you see eh?" laughed Mr. Stubbs. Relief washed over me like a warm shower on a cold day. Michael Stubbs was one of the handy men that helped me out with the really heavy stuff from time to time. I actually tried to pull my weight in my new duties as far as I was physically capable. All the physical labor also helped me to drown out unwanted thoughts. The new position had its perks; well that was a mistaken plural. It had one perk and one perk only, no Antonio. It was easy to avoid him; about a week into the job I realized I could stop trying. "Let's get started," said Ron. Ronald Douglas was another hand and the three of us off loaded fish for Paradise Fisheries. As we unloaded crates of lobster and bags of fish onto the set for only God knows what reason I felt it; the sensation that someone was staring you down or borrowing through you with their eyes. Looking behind me through the crowd I saw a head of dirt blonde half curls turn their green satin eyes from my direction. I squinted and stared for a moment before a bag of fish was hurled my way causing me to hug it on impact. I let out a breath while Mike laughed. "Pay attention and stop staring at man girl!" Ron bellowed with a laugh. I was embarrassed a bit and could feel the blood rise to my face. "You can bring it here to the kitchen!" a woman shouted. The driver had just gotten the delivery documents signed and walked off with a check, nodding at me as he passed letting me now it was okay to do as she says. As I neared her, hauling probably the smallest bag of fish, I took notice of her inviting smile. The apron she wore had a stain or two here or there. She was the size a chef should be if they made really good food and her smile stretched from ear to ear. Her hair, the color of graying coal, was braided in two French braids and covered by a chef's hat. Her honey colored eyes seemed to gleam at me as I stood next to her while I kneed the bag of fish higher for a better grip. "Good morning," I chimed. "Where do you want it?" She surveyed the bag to check which seafood it was first and after some thought she answered. "You can put that bag in the freezer," she said. "I'm going to go check on what else was brought." "Okay Ms," I hesitated. "Please, call me Lily." She smiled. I walked into the kitchen watching as white aprons and stained aprons hustled and bustled. "We don't have a lot of time left before the director calls for the scene people! Chop chop!" someone shouted. "Remember not to cook all of it; some of the seafood is for the cast party as well!" "Um the freezer?" I asked around but people were busy attending to their work. They maneuvered around me as if my presence was there but didn't matter. "Excuse me where's the freezer?" I had asked again to be brushed off by another. I sighed as I kneed the bag of fish again to better my grip. "The freezer is right over there kid," said a woman who had been chopping vegetables. She had pointed at its direction with her knife. Her skin was the color of the most brilliant ivory and her eyes a lime green mystery. She smiled, afterwards turning around to finish her work, her neck revealing several strands of fiery red hair. I smiled back even though she hadn't seen it and walked towards the white metal door that had frost on its tiny window. It was a bit of trouble opening it the first time but it opened and I entered resting the bag where space allowed. As I bent down I heard a slam and quickly got up to find the door had been shut. It wouldn't budge. Every aggravated push and pull of the handle had been useless and I felt extremely tired and obviously cold. I banged at the door and removed the frost from the tiny window to see no one the wiser. They were all as preoccupied with their work as they had been when I first walked in. It had been about 5 minutes and I had felt weak. People whizzed by like I hadn't been trying to get their attention from the window. I had started to become a little bit disoriented and I couldn't stand properly. The floor and walls were cold against my bare skin so it hurt to lean against anything as well. There was more stuff to put in the freezer, why were Ron and Mike taking so long? I did a slight jog as I folded my arms and tucked them under my armpits, rubbing together my legs thankful that I wore long overalls today. However, my shirt was a spaghetti strap today. My arms were bare and I could feel the heat had long gone from the surface of my skin. I rubbed in a futile attempt to get warmer as well as screamed hoping that someone would hear me over the clang of the pots and pans. It had probably only been 10 minutes, which felt like an eternity, when my feet had threatened to give out from beneath me. I stood in the tiny window willing myself not to cry for fear that the resulting icicles would make me colder. My legs couldn't take it much longer and I fell forward, waiting to hit my head against the metal door. It was soft, and brought me low to the ground in its arms. The metal door's hands were warm as it cupped my cheek and stared, willing me to wake up. Its green eyes turned a hard dark color as it looked around the room and shouted franticly. This wasn't a metal door but a man. A man that under the haze of my blurry vision looked quite familiar. His dirt blonde half curls shrouded his face as he tried calling out to me. A woman had kneeled next to him flashing a light in my eyes and checking my finger tips. I don't think I would have known if I hadn't seen my hand in hers as she inspected it. "Thank you," I whispered as I tried to remember how to move my hands. I heard the voices of Mike and Ron bustling through the kitchen. My hand reached for his face and right before grazing his cheek it fell to the floor. Like the wind would a candle, I was out like a light, colors dancing beneath my eyelids to a jig of sorts.