Page 8 of If I Had More Time

“How baby?” I inquired still tickled by his response.

“She chew with her mouth open, when food falls from her utensil, she uses her fingers to pick it up, and she don’t know how to eat pasta the correct way. Somebody ain’t take the time to teach her shit.”

“Her upbringing is not our business, Tristan. The only thing we worry about is their physical health. Her and her husband aren’t anything other than a good time. One day and then we’re back to our regularly scheduled Malore program.”

Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. I went to remove my feet so he could grab a nap, but he quickly pulled them back into his lap. He was greedy, and I loved everything about it.

“Do I need to rundown the key points before I doze off?” he questioned.

“The rules haven’t been broken since we started. I got it, baby.”

We were never to choose a couple that wasn’t married, exchange personal information, or accept any offers. Never trust the other party when it came to protection. We were to bring our own. And the one thing he stood firm on was oral sex. It was strictly a one way street. We could receive but never give. Weweren’t to be filmed or captured in any photos and when it was all over, become a ghost to our temporary partners. I’d respected his wishes from the beginning.

“I didn’t doubt it for a second.” His smart remark caused me to playfully kick him in the crotch. I shook my head and followed behind him with a nap of my own.

Captain Cory’s voice was coming through the intercom an hour later letting us know we’d arrived at our destination. I was never nervous about our rendezvous, but I was a bit restrained. Regardless of what was to come by the end of the night, he wasn’t my husband and some things I wouldn’t be doing.

We exited the plane to a blacked-out Yukon XL awaiting our arrival. Tristan’s hand was held the entire time. He helped me inside before he occupied the other side. Our bags were put in the back by the chauffer before he climbed into the driver’s seat. Our route was pretty easy to follow. There were no pitstops along the way so it would be smooth sailing from here on out.

It took us a good twenty-minutes to pull up to the docks. The Hideaway was our final destination and only place that would see us for the day. This particular resort was run by the couple that ran The Melting Pot. An isolated island that allowed swingers to be comfortable and enjoy themselves without judgment.

I was helped out the SUV and ushered to the Yacht. Now this part wasn’t Tristan flexing his wallet. In order to get to The Hideaway, you had no choice but to take a boat. Being a swinger wasn’t something today’s society accepted so the island was out the way. We prided ourselves around a lot of confidentiality.

Tristan didn’t allow me to leave his side the entire ride over. Neither one of us liked being on water whatsoever but we’d grown to tolerate this one. With his arm locked around my waist, he pecked at the side of my face giving me comfort, even thoughI knew he was probably just as uncomfortable as I was. The fresh breeze was the only thing refreshing about this transport.

“You good, Ma?”

“Yeah babe. How about you? You look as if you could hurl right now.” He was sweating bullets but somehow worried about me first.

“Just ready to get off this muthafucka. All this bouncing making a nigga seasick.”

“We ain’t got much longer. I can see the docks.” I leaned into him more knowing it would relax him a bit. He was a baby at heart that needed just as much consoling as any other.

Soon enough, we were filing off the boat and stepping onto the long dock that led to the resort. Many couples were coming in as well as going out. The Melting Pot had plenty of members that enjoyed their perks. Tristan and I didn’t pay an annual fee of fifty-grand just to have what others could on a regular vacation.

Still hand in hand, we bypassed the others and entered the lobby of The Hideaway. This resort not only had a grand hotel but villas and a few homes for the couples that had no intentions of returning to their ordinary lives. Money flowed through this place. There was no doubt about that.

Walking up to the clerk, she offered us a smile before asking, “How can I help you two today?”

“Hi, we have reservations under Malore. There should be two keys,” I answered.

“One moment.” She went to pecking on her keyboard all while maintaining her smile. She took her job seriously. “Tristan and Naomi?”

“That’s us.”

“Great. A villa and a presidential suite. Let me get your keys.”

Tristan’s fingers gave a light tap on my lower back asking for my attention. I looked up at him and he threw a nod in front of him. Turning around, I saw our temporary partners headingtoward us. I gave them a quick scan and smirked. Simone was a cute girl, but she wasn’t me. Her husband Alex was dark and handsome how I liked them. However, he wasn’t Tristan fine.

Turning back around, I gave my attention to the clerk who was handing over our keys. “Thank you. Have a good rest of your day. Here’s yours, baby.”

“This our last one with them. You hear me?”

“I hear you. Tell me why later. Come here.” He slightly bent down, and we gave up a kiss so passionate my pussy formed a heartbeat. It was going to be hard not to enjoy him today. My craving for him was damn near uncontrollable at this point.

“I love everything about you, Mrs. Malore,” he spoke softly against my lips.

“I love you more, Mr. Malore. Remember who holds your name when you fuckin’ her. I expect you to come back to me tomorrow morning.”