Page 39 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

The warmth flooded through my veins, and when Orlando bent a little and the wet drag of his tongue touched my nipple, I cried out. An explosion of sound and light went off in me, releasing all the tension and worries until I slumped against the wall, a ragged doll with a satisfied grin.

“Fuck, that was amazing, you came so beautifully for me,” he whispered. Orlando bent and captured my mouth again for a languid kiss that left my brain scrambled, and my arousal peeked again. “So, that’s that. You are coming. No more talking about staying behind. Grace is gonna get you a dress of hers that she brought, just in case.”

Words were coming out of Orlando’s mouth, but there was a lust for me that didn’t allow anything but “Yes, Orlando” to come out of my mouth.

Did this man-child just sex a “yes” out of me?

* * *

By the time I had my wits again, Orlando had departed and a gentle knock on the door signaled Grace’s arrival.

“Trinidad, can I come in? Orlando said you were expecting me.”

Allowing Grace in, I shut the door again, worried that the sex demon would come back and addle me again and convince me to escape with him to a tropical island or something. That had been so good, dry humping wasn’t supposed to feel this great. If it weren’t for his friends’ presence, I would have taken things much further and fuck the yacht party. Orlando had awakened something long dormant in me, and I was finally ready to let it out.

“I’m so glad to meet you finally! Orlando speaks so highly of you and your sons; he really cares about your family.” Grace, with her impish smile, immediately made me feel at ease. The age difference so apparent downstairs washed away while we chatted about everything and anything.

“Oh, I’m so glad you are here; I swear I travel with the boys all the time. Well, not Orlando; he’s deeply responsible, so being away from home never feels comfortable to him, but the other two knuckleheads get on my damn nerves. I love them, but they get on my nerves.”

“How long you’ve all known each other?”

“We met in college. We were all part of the Caribbean-American Association and ended up on the board—well, not Trevor, but the three of us. Trevor was a member, but he just wanted to link up with all the other Caribbean ladies on campus and felt the best way to locate them was joining the association.” Grace laughed as she plopped on my bed and made herself comfortable.

“And Orlando?” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager, but I wanted to know more about him. The picture in my head of Orlando had morphed completely since yesterday. I always thought of him as this easygoing, nonchalant guy, but everything I was learning painted a different canvas—one that captivated me to my everlasting dread.

“Orlando was the most studious of us. He joined the association as a tribute to his father. You know his daddy was Jamaican, right? Well, he wanted a connection to his heritage. He spearheaded several cultural events that year we were on the board, and because of him, we raised the most amount of money the association had ever raised. Honestly, I don’t know how he did it and still does it now. Those brothers of his…They were just calling him as I came up, asking for things he specifically had left written. He tried to laugh it off when I asked if he was okay, but…he has a lot on his shoulders. I worry about him sometimes. But Orlando doesn’t do worry, he is the most stubbornly positive person I know.” Grace shook her head, laughing.

The fact that his brothers had called yet again with questions they probably should know the answers to must be hard for Orlando. You would think they would step up the way he did at that age, but it seems everybody relied on him. Again, the similarities in our lives felt eerily serendipitous.

“He will never tell you if he needs something, and he will always bend over backward for his loved ones, sometimes to the detriment of his own needs. I hope you keep that in mind,” Grace said, and the warning was received. She was a good friend, and if I was her, I’d do the same. Here I was, a mother with two children who probably had a lot of needs in Grace’s eyes. What could Orlando possibly want to do with a readymade family when his hands were already full? And why in the world was I even worried about that? Orlando and I didn’t have a future.

But it didn’t stop me from imagining one with him.

Dios mío, I was in trouble.

* * *

Delilah and Mikey’s yacht party assembled the who’s who of Ofele and all the carnival leaders and organizers. The double-decker boat had ample space in the front for partygoers to mingle. Inside, there was a bar and a steel drum band playing some popular soca tunes accompanied by a track. Everyone was decked out; my people were not here to play. Thank God for Grace’s white dress. The strapless bustier A-line had enough give to fit snugly on me versus the loose fit on her smaller body.

The heat of the day hadn’t relented; my locks were up in a high ponytail ready for any breeze and possible kisses from the man standing next to me. Orlando wore loose white trousers and a short-sleeve shirt, the easygoing look absolutely appealing. With his hand on my elbow he guided me through the throng of guests until we found our hosts holding court near the built-in bar.

“You made it! How are you?” Delilah gave us both big hugs. Once I said hello to Mikey, a sharp tug from Delilah separated me from the men, allowing us some privacy.

“Oh, I see you have opened yourself up to the possibility of more.” Delilah held back a cackle, but just barely. I glanced at her, not knowing if to lean into my laughter or my annoyance. The woman was persistent; I’d give her that.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” If she were going to be a busybody, I would be obtuse. It worked with the twins all the time.

“Now you are gonna play games, you know exactly what I mean!”

“Loose lips and all. Girl, let me live, okay?” I winked and made my way to Orlando, who’d turned around with drinks in hand.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I made a wild guess, and I hope I’m right?” Orlando said, handing me the cold drink. I looked back at Delilah, whispering in Mikey’s ear and winking at me. If I let her, she’d start me up in a cougar’s club, and I wasn’t out here trying to be no one’s wildcat—sometimes, I had to lie to myself to make it day by day. The problem was, the lie wasn’t working tonight because my wildcat had been purring since I saw Orlando and realized he had conspired with Grace for us to match colors.

A sip of my drink gave me a burst of flavors, herbs, caramel, and enough alcohol to keep me in bed for the entire weekend.

“Mamajuana? How on earth?” I asked, impressed. He knew I loved the cocktail, but this was our equivalent of moonshine. I didn’t even ask for it in bars unless I was in a Dominican spot.

“Yeah, the bartender is Dominican and Haitian.” Orlando gestured toward the tall man behind the bar, who offered a bright smile and thumbs-up. Orlando gave him the nod and then guided us toward a quieter spot in the back of the yacht. We sat down on the comfy lounge bench, both savoring our drinks and the gentle breeze, now that the sun had finally relented.

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