Summer Nights (2 page)

“By the way, are you wearing cute, sexy
undies? You know, just in case,” she asked pointedly.

“Considering a thick layer of cotton
would cause me to soak them in half a minute, and not out of sexual
need, I opted for lacy hipsters, which I do believe will meet with
your approval.”

“My bwen.” She smiled approvingly as
she threw a beaded necklace over her head. Her mocha skin was
smooth and creamy, seemingly more even-toned next to the vivid pink
of her shirt and the earthy purple and silver of her
necklace.

“Muy
bien
,” I corrected. She ignored
me.

Stella pulled out her flat iron and
plugged it in beside my blow dryer. After applying serum to her
short, black locks she began teasing her hair to make the red
highlights stand out rather than blend in.

We finished getting ready at the same
time and turned, giving each other a once over.

“You look good, girl,” she said,
fluffing my big curls.

“You too. I still say this is my
favorite style on you.”

“I work with what I’ve got. You need to
too, so no rubber bands tonight.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “That is so
not fair considering how thick my hair is. That more than evens the
sweat factor of our skin to clothes ratio.”

“Fine. Take one in your purse, but
don’t even think about taking Big Bertha with you.”

“Now I might have to just to spite
you,” I playfully chided.

To Stella’s relief, I left my coveted
Nine West purse in my suitcase and opted for a more manageable
metallic Coach wristlet. I shoved my coin purse, cell phone, room
key and hair band into the much smaller bag. It barely zipped shut,
but luckily it managed to hold everything I needed for the night. I
rolled an extra layer of deodorant on, knowing I would need the
added protection.

“You ready?” I watched as Stella
stuffed the same items, minus the hair supplies, into a blue
leather clutch a couple inches larger than mine.

“Yup. Let’s go get our
drink on and find us some sexy
papi
chulos
.”

“Oh, that you know how to pronounce?” I
shook my head as I walked out the door.

Chapter 2

Old San Juan reminded me of a cross
between Miami and San Francisco. The streets were narrow and mostly
one-way; they were laid up and down steep hills with cars crammed
along their edges. The eclectic mix of shops, restaurants and
bakeries were dotted amongst government offices and houses worth at
least half a million dollars. The people danced along the
sidewalks, laughing loudly as they celebrated life.

Every shape and size woman was dressed
in skintight clothes that left nothing to the imagination; the
bright hues of their ensembles made me cringe as they highlighted
rolls that should be concealed. Even thin women had the appearance
of a beer-belly caused by the taut apparel and their shorts were so
tight I was surprised they could even breathe. The men didn’t seem
to mind though with their arms slung possessively around the
shoulders of their dates as they strolled along the
streets.

“Ooh. I’ve seen some pretty fine pieces
of sexy here but if I see one more damn rat-tail mohawk, I’m going
to pull my hair out. And don’t even get me started on the muffin
tops these women think are attractive.”

I choked on my laugh as we walked
towards the harbor where the cruise ships docked. The closer we got
to the water, the better it felt. A faint breeze actually attempted
to cool me; too bad it fanned as well as using a thin, flimsy sheet
of tissue paper would. At least I still smelled good. I’d covered
every part of me with my favorite gardenia lotion so when I sweat I
wouldn’t smell like a wet dog.

Coming up to the corner, we approached
a hostess stand. The woman smiled and greeted us in
Spanish.

“Un mesa por
dos
.” My tongue wasn’t grasping the fluency
these people spoke with, but it had enough accuracy to get us
by.

The hostess nodded once, grabbed two
menus and escorted us to an outdoor table. The covered patio was
packed, conversations blurring into a jumbled hum that carried
beyond the establishment’s borders.

“I’m starving,” Stella said, picking up
the menu off the table.

“You must be to not complain about
eating in the heat.” They did have overhead fans, which cooled the
space a couple degrees.

“Buenos
dias
-“ the young woman started.

Stella held up a finger immediately.
“We need an English speaking server please.”

“I speak English,” she said, her brows
pulling together despite her smile. She was petite and youthful;
her long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which
highlighted her model features. She wore a black polo shirt,
embroidered with the restaurant’s logo, tucked into black shorts
that showcased her slim, tan legs; I would kill for legs like
hers.

“Then you’ll work just fine.” Stella
glanced over the menu. “What do you recommend for an alcoholic
beverage?”

“Anything with rum. All the rums we
serve were brewed here locally.”

“I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri,”
Stella stated.

“I’ll have a rum and coke with lime,
please.”

An hour later, Stella and I were more
relaxed, sipping our third drink of the evening after chowing down
on plantains, rice with black beans and grilled chicken. The
portion sizes were huge here. We were forced to discard over half
our plates because we knew our night was far from over and carrying
around a to-go box would only be a nuisance.

“Ooh, girl. Hot, Latin hunk at ten
o’clock has been looking our way all evening.” I laughed when
Stella tried to discreetly adjust her “girls.”

“Go talk to him. I’ll be okay by myself
for a while,” I encouraged. I’d yet to look towards the table her
eyes were glued to, afraid of being too obvious.

“Tempting. He’s got muscles galore and
a five o’clock shadow that’s already got my pussy
weeping.”

“Stella!” I felt my cheeks heat up as I
threw my hands over my face. I peeked through my fingers at her. “I
cannot believe you just said that.”

“If you would stop acting like a child
and look at him, you’d understand why I said it.”

I dropped my hands and turned my head
slightly towards the right.

“Plain white shirt, hugging his sexy
chest, cargo shorts and Nike tennis shoes. Damn, even his calves
are sexy. It’s the guy with the kinda longish, dark brown hair and
bedroom eyes,” she said.

“Someone’s been staring a while to give
that description.” I leaned my body more, honing in on the target.
The second I did, his eyes locked dead on me.

My breath hitched, my center heating as
his eyes glittered with amusement and desire. I quickly looked
away, flushing with embarrassment. I’d never reacted to a guy like
that before. I didn’t get those physical reactions that every hero
and heroine did in erotic romance novels. I reached out and barely
avoided spilling my drink as I quickly raised the glass to my lips
and downed the entire beverage; I needed to be cooled off,
fast!

“Told you.” Stella smirked, her eyes
sparkling with humor and mischief as she watched me struggle to
control my reaction.

I swallowed hard, biting my lower lip
as the alcohol hit my system. Instead of helping though, it only
warmed my pussy more, which encouraged my wandering
mind.

“Damn, girl. I’ve never seen you react
like that before. I was gonna call dibs on him, but I’ll play fair
and let him choose. He’s heading our way.”

“What?” My eyes shot open as I leaned
forward.

“Buenos
noches
.” He smiled lazily. His dark eyes
regarded me with restraint; he was a blank cloud showing no
emotion.

“Habbla English?” Stella stumbled over
the Spanish word. I swear one of these times she was going to mean
one thing but accidentally pronounce it wrong and get us in
trouble.

“Si. Habla
Espanol
?” he countered, turning the wooden
chair so he could straddle the back as he sat between
us.

“No, but you could teach me.” She
lifted her chin slightly, confidence radiating off her. I hated to
admit I was envious of her assurance, especially when she casually
leaned into him and ran her fingers along his copper
forearm.

“Donde tu
eres
? Where are you from?” he asked. He
asked Stella but then looked at me. I stiffened, awkwardly shifting
in my seat. He watched my every move, giving no hint as to what he
was thinking.

Stella boldly grabbed his hand, pulling
his attention back to her. “I’m a Georgia peach; sweet and
juicy.”

I barely managed to stifle my laugh,
which probably made me look like I was having convulsions based off
the raised brow Stella’s Latin lover threw my way.

“Where in Georgia?” Again, he asked
Stella but looked at me.

I sucked my bottom lip between my
teeth. I looked down at the brushed metal table, trying to avoid
his gaze. It was as if he was trying to stare into me, get beyond
what everyone saw to the raw layers within me. It unnerved me. My
stomach was in knots and my sex began to pulse with my racing
heart.

“Enough about me. Tell me about
yourself, sexy.” Stella’s voice took on a husky quality.

“Que quieres
saber
? What do you want to
know?”

“I love how you’re teaching me as we go
along. Shows that you listen to what a woman wants.” She scooted
her chair closer to his, sidling up to him.

“Aqui, el placer de una
mujer es lo mas importante
. Here, a woman’s
pleasure is the most important thing.” His eyes landed on me as he
placed emphasis on the last few words.

“Uh, I’m going to find our server and
get another drink. You two, um… Well… Oh, hell. I’ll be back.” I
slid my chair back, the wooden legs scraping along the concrete
floor.

I turned to walk away but immediately
halted when a pair of muscular arms anchored me in place. A shiver
ran down my spine, sending a flutter through my womb, as he stood
behind me. How did he move so quickly? He struck fast and silent
like a cobra.

I barely stifled a moan as he slid my
hair away from my neck, sliding a finger along my pulse point. My
skin tingled in the wake of his touch.

He leaned in close, pressing his wall
of muscles to my back. “I said a woman’s pleasure is the most
important thing. If a drink will make you happy, I will go get
it.”

My eyes widened as my knees suddenly
struggled not to give out. Was I supposed to read between those
lines? I looked to Stella. At first she appeared slightly
disappointed but quickly slipped a smile back on her face and
winked at me.

“Uh, that’s okay.” I cringed. Why was I
clamming up now of all times? Not that I was ever talented in the
dating department, but I’d never fumbled around like a fool before
either. Okay, so most of the time…

“You need to loosen
up,
nena
.”

Nen-nuh?
As he stepped back my lungs refilled with air. I
hadn’t even realized I wasn’t breathing, probably because my body
was humming with awareness. I was hypersensitive in his presence;
he made me hot in every sense of the sexual reference. I squirmed
as he threw me off-kilter.

His full lips lifted slightly at the
corners, his eyes raking over me. “I know what you
need.”

My mouth went dry in response to his
naughty, sexual innuendo. My nipples hardened despite the
hundred-degree temperature outside. Oh God. This was bad. I had
never wanted to rip a guy’s clothes off like I did right now. I
certainly had never wanted to rub my swollen clit against anything
so bad. I needed to get away from him.

“Those your friends over there?” Stella
asked, nodding her head towards the table he’d been sitting at. Two
males sat back casually sipping beers, but their eyes were glued to
us, intensely watching the scene we were creating.

I suddenly realized I didn’t even know
his name. Nonetheless, he jerked his head, motioning for his
friends to come over. They dropped a couple bills on their table
and walked towards us.

His friends weren’t as muscular as he
was. One was tall and thin, with lean muscle that showed slight
definition, his left bicep barely protruded under his half sleeve
of tattoos. His hair was gelled upwards, showing off a mohawk,
thankfully without a rat-tail. His other friend was a couple inches
shorter and appeared far more bulky standing next to his skinny
friend. He wasn’t overweight, merely beefy in comparison. Even his
hair seemed overgrown and puffy compared to the other
guy.

“This is Ramon,” he said pointing to
the lankier male. “This is Jaffi, and I’m Cruz.”

“I’m Stella, and that’s Summer. Now cut
the crap and tell me your real name.” Stella crossed her arms in
front of her and stood tall, not wanting to be dwindled by our new
friends. She stood 5’7” without heels compared to my micro stance
of 5’2”.