The Power Trip

Lori was relieved to be off the hook; their conversation was getting a little too personal for her liking.

‘Goddamm it!’ Hammond complained, swatting at a flying bug. ‘I need to throw myself in the ocean. Isn’t it time we turned back?’

* * *

Jeromy was bored. He hadn’t come on this voyage to sit by himself in solitary splendour while his boyfriend ran off to an island with most of the other guests.

Jeromy did not sunbathe. His skin and the sun did not mix, so instead of becoming a sun-burnished god like Luca, he usually ended up resembling a dried-up old lobster. Not an attractive look, and one he planned to avoid.

Mercedes, the feisty stewardess, was attentive — offering him drinks and snacks whenever he felt like it. The problem was that food and drink did not alleviate boredom.

Mercedes. What kind of a name was that anyway? A Mexican girl named after a German car. How ridiculous. It was exactly the sort of moronic name movie stars bestowed on their offspring.

Thinking of movie stars, Jeromy wondered where Cliff Baxter had vanished to. Earlier they’d enjoyed a most cordial chat, surely there was more to come? Perhaps Cliff had a house in L.A. that needed redecorating. Or a New York penthouse ready for renovation. Or maybe he could use his persuasive powers to talk Cliff into purchasing a London townhouse.

Jeromy Milton-Gold, designer to the stars. It had a nice ring to it.

Mercedes appeared again. There was something about the girl that was annoying. Perhaps she wasn’t subservient enough for his liking. Or perhaps she was just plain cheap. He wondered if she screwed the passengers on the side. He wouldn’t put it past her — she had that dirty girl air about her. Maybe she’d even had a go at the movie star while his redheaded girlfriend was cavorting somewhere on the island with Luca.

‘Where is Mr Baxter?’ Jeromy enquired, peering down his long nose at her.

‘Ah, you mean Senor Cliff,’ Mercedes said, purposely irritating him.

‘No, I mean Mr Baxter,’ Jeromy said sternly, putting her in her place. ‘You should never call guests by their first names, it’s extremely rude.’

Mercedes stifled a strong urge to tell him to piss off. Her time would come, and when it did she planned to clean this one out, and maybe shove a plunger up his bony ass for good measure. Only this particular hijo de puta would probably enjoy it.

‘Senor Cliff asked me to use his first name,’ she said innocently.

‘I don’t care what he asked you,’ Jeromy admonished. ‘It is simply not done. You are in service here. Learn, dear — it is to your advantage.’

Come mierda, Mercedes thought as she smiled sweetly at Jeromy, deciding that his expensive watch might make a nice birthday present for her next conquest.

* * *

Being on the island was making Taye randier than ever. Getting Ashley out of London and away from it all had worked wonders. She wasn’t all Miss Design Queen and mummy to the twins, she was more like the girl he’d fallen in love with, the free spirit who got off on sexual adventures and was never adverse to giving a blow-job or two. Taye had to admit that getting oral sex from his wife was his favourite activity. He relished the thought of shoving Mammoth into Ashley’s delicate mouth, and holding her head in place while she sucked the life out of him. Before marriage it had been a daily occurrence. After marriage it had become a special treat. And for the last few months it hadn’t happened at all, until last night, when Ashley had excelled at doing what she did better than any other girl he’d been with.

Now he wanted more, and the island seemed like the perfect set-up for a quick bit of sex. Ashley looked so great in her cover-up T-shirt, her big tits sticking out, long legs on parade. Last night he’d made love to her for as long as she could take it, then he’d gone down on her and she’d moaned her appreciation. Frankly he couldn’t keep his hands off his wife.

‘Hey, toots,’ he whispered, grabbing her hand. ‘Follow me. Just saw somethin’ you wouldn’t wanna miss.’

‘What?’ Ashley said, marvelling at a pair of giant turtles crawling along in front of them; it was quite a sight.

‘Back here,’ Taye said, steering her away from the others — pulling her towards a cluster of tall swaying palm trees.

‘What?’ Ashley repeated, slightly irritated.

Taye didn’t give her time to think. He went for her nipples, playing with them in a way that never failed to turn her on.

‘Taye!’ she objected. ‘Not here.’

‘Why not?’ he said, squeezing and twirling.

‘’Cause the others might see.’ Two seconds and then — ‘Oh… my… God!’

He had her. Quick as a flash he whipped out Mammoth, still keeping up the tit action.

‘Go for it, baby,’ he encouraged, pushing her to her knees.

‘Taye…’ she began.

He stifled her objections with Mammoth, and within two delicious minutes he’d achieved a memorable orgasm, leaving Ashley wanting more. Which was fine with him, because he’d be happy to finish the job of satisfying her later.

As far as Taye was concerned, this was turning out to be the perfect trip.

* * *

After skimming through two scripts — both of them disappointing — Cliff realized that he did indeed miss Lori. It was his loss not to have gone on the island trip. Every day shouldn’t be about work, and reading scripts was actually work. Before leaving L.A. he’d had his agent, his manager and Enid all on his case about all the scripts he should read.

‘We need to make decisions,’ his manager had informed him.

‘I think you should seriously consider the spy movie,’ his agent had said.

‘You’ll be bored with Lori before you know it,’ Enid had lectured. ‘See if you can make a dent in those scripts you’ve got piling up. I’ve packed them all for you.’

Wasn’t he supposed to be on vacation with his girlfriend? Why not relax and enjoy it? To hell with work.

Cliff decided that for the next few days he was going to lie back and let himself go with the flow.

* * *

‘What are we going to do?’ Sierra asked Flynn.

Flynn loved the fact that she was referring to them as ‘we’. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what your situation is with Ham. You’ve been married a long time.’ He paused for a moment, then gazed at her intently. ‘Are you happy?’

‘So!’ she exclaimed, refusing to meet his eyes. ‘Just like that, we’ve gone from not talking for years to am I happy. I’m confused, that’s what I am.’

‘You’re not answering my question.’

‘Are you happy, Flynn?’ she said pointedly, finally looking at him. ‘I guess you must be. Your girlfriend seems smart enough and pretty.’

‘Xuan is not my girlfriend,’ he muttered.

‘You’re sharing a cabin,’ she was quick to remind him.

‘It’s a long story,’ he said, ridiculously pleased that she sounded jealous.

Sierra was now staring at him, unsure of what to say. Should she admit that she was miserable? Should she tell him the truth?

Oh God, she felt so vulnerable. Too much time had passed, they were both grown ups now. Could she trust Flynn? What if the whole fake photos thing was merely a fantasy, a convenient story he’d made up to explain the way he’d treated her?

Was Hammond responsible? At first she’d had no doubts, but why would he do such a thing? How could he? She realized that she would have to confront him. It was the only way to get to the real truth.

‘I’m kind of tired,’ she said at last. ‘I need to spend some time alone thinking things through.’