Page 40 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

“When was the last time you had fun, Ms. V?”

“So, you’re back to calling me that?” I grinned, looking at him over the rim of my glass.

“Yeah, but it’s an endearment now, tú sabe.”

“Oh, a little bit of Spanglish. You don’t speak it much, why?”

Orlando’s expression clouded, and the urge to comfort him kicked in. A second later, he was back to his easygoing self, smiling again.

“I speak it with my neighbors, but when I try to speak and practice with Ma…she doesn’t like it; she was teaching Spanish to my dad when the accident happened, and now she barely uses her first language. And she never taught us Garifuna, so…yeah.” He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. He didn’t fool me one bit. I reached out and held his empty hand and looked at the foaming water behind us, the motor of the yacht lulling me to relaxation.

To be in silence with someone, true comfortable silence, was a gift. I’d only had that with Miranda. Everyone else in my life, I had to be on. Even my children, because they needed me and were highly attuned to my moods. With Milton, I had always to be pleasant; he hated conflict, and because of it, I was always careful around him. At least my Dominican brava side came out to play. But here on this sultry night in Ofele Town, a few days before the bacchanal, I could be myself. With the person I least expected.

“Last time I had balls-to-the-wall fun was a happy hour turned into an all-nighter when the twins were ten years old, and my ex had them for the weekend. But then, around 1:00 a.m., Miranda and I were wasted and dancing, and I got a call from my ex that I needed to meet him at my place because he could no longer take care of the boys. I had to rush home and sober up as best as I could with coffee to put them to bed. They were so upset. They had been looking forward to their weekend with their dad.” Just remembering that weekend made my blood boil. I’d never known I was so creative with insults till that night. I had whisper them so the boys wouldn’t hear, but I sure got them all out.

“That doesn’t sound like ‘balls-to-the-wall’ fun,” he said gently, his face showing full understanding and not a trace of pity.

“You weren’t there before 1:00 a.m.; trust me, it was balls-to-the-wall, okay.”

“Okay… I trust you, so that was five years ago…” Orlando turned my hand over until he cradled it, his fingers caressed the up and down from the tip of my thumb to my wrist. The scent of the ocean and our mamajuana reminded me this was my weekend; this was my time.

“I know, I’m very much overdue. I’ve been focusing on wholesome activities,” I said, laughing. His hand moved up my arm, trailing soft pleasure on its path.

“So, what would it take to meet the not-so-wholesome Ms. V?” Orlando crooned. I wasn’t aware men could do that. Jesus Alabao. His question crept into every needy atom in my body.

“Mmm, we could start with dancing; I love dancing,” I whispered back, gazing into his eyes, unwilling to show how much he affected me. When he closed his and licked a drop of the infused rum off his lush bottom lip, I squirmed on the bench.

“So, let’s dance.” He stood up, adjusting his slacks before offering his hand to me. I stared at where he’d adjusted and wondered if he was all grown there too. My thoughts were descending further and further into straight filth.

“Okay, let’s dance.” And I followed Orlando on my way to have ball-to-the-walls fun.

SEVENTEEN

Orlando

Nothing prepared me for dancing with Trinidad Velasquez. No previous fetes, no signature moves, nor the perfect whine I thought I’d mastered readied me for the sway of her hips and ass against me.

Ms. V transformed into full Hot Gyal right before my eyes when we stepped into the dance area inside the yacht. Machel Montano tunes had replaced the steel drum band, and the area was full of couples enjoying the vibes.

We started with a slow whine, and I left a space for Jesus, not wanting to assume. Trinidad took charge, her white dress hugging her hips and behind as she inched closer to me to the beat of the music. The soca dictated our every move, and soon we were whining the yacht down, her soft ass cradling my inevitable nascent hardness.

Montano urged us to take it slow, and I did, getting lost in the goodness of feeling Trinidad so carefree and soft against me. Every few seconds, she’d bend completely over, speeding up the mesmerizing circles against me and sneaking a look over her shoulder.

“Ms. V, why you playin’ with me.” I groaned as she started an eight pattern up and down, up and down, until she had me hard as Mjollnir. Ten…nine…eight…seven, that was the only thing left to do. If I counted, maybe I’d be able to reduce some of the sweet tension gathering in my spine and the urge to bend her all the way down and cause a scene in this party. Because Lawd, this woman was tempting.

The song became a faster tune, and Trinidad gave me a reprieve, turning around and throwing her arms over my shoulders. Her gorgeous face glowed with excitement and the sweat we’d created together. She’d never look happier to me than this time. We both sang along to the popular soca song, bodies in tune, mimicking what I desperately wanted to happen between us.

“You were right; I was long overdue for a good time,” she shouted over the music.

“I’m always right,” I said smugly, holding on for dear life and my composure. I wanted so badly to kiss her.

“So, kiss me then,” she taunted. I paused, wondering if she’d infiltrated my thoughts. She bit her bottom lip, inviting me to taste, and who was I to resist such an alluring invitation? We lost ourselves to the beat of the music and the taste of our lips until we were grinding together; soon, we’d end up dry humping just like earlier.

“Fuck, Trinidad, this feels so fucking right. You feel it too, don’t you? You see how it could be?” I said, panting against her lips.

“I… I yes but…stability, I need…something like Milton… I—”

I kissed her again because fuck Milton, fuck stability—even though I was certain I could give everything she wanted and more. She was such a good mother, willing to sacrifice her happiness for her children because this was happiness; this was her fulfilled and living life. But Trinidad had convinced herself along the way that a staid marriage would be the answer to all her dilemmas.

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