Cravings (8 page)

Chapter 15

A
fter not exchanging any words on the cab ride back to Sanj's hotel suite, Jennifer let loose when they entered into the private area.

“He's got to be talking about Maeve, right? José Mozingo has Maeve. I just fucking know it,” she said.

“Calm down, Jennifer. We don't know that,” Sanj said, leading her to a chair. “Please. Sit down. Let's think through this.”

“Calm down?” she said. “I don't think we have time to calm down. If she's the woman with him, she's been there, what, a week already? He could have done anything with her.”

“Not quite a week,” Sanj said more to himself than to her.

“I agree with Jennifer,” Sasha said. “We need to do something fast.”

“Shall I alert the authorities? The consulate?” Sanj asked.

“Of course!” Jennifer said.

Sasha stopped her. “I'm not sure that's the best route to go. Mozingo may have all the politicians in his pocket. In fact, he probably does.”

“The U.S. consul? I doubt it,” Jennifer said with an air of regard.

“Is she always this naïve?” Sasha asked Sanj.

“Is she always this paranoid?” Jennifer said.

“No. Yes. Wait,” Sanj said, starting to pace. How to defuse the situation? How to think his way through this? He took a deep, centering breath. “Look, ladies, can we stop the sniping and figure this out? I'm calling my assistant immediately to book tickets for the island. Jennifer, can you call the publisher and let them know what is going on?”

“What am I going to tell them? We think Maeve's been kidnapped? I mean how crazy does that sound? Nobody's called for ransom or anything,” Jennifer said.

“Sometimes, men don't kidnap you for money,” Sasha said. “They kidnap you to rape you over and over again. And when they are through, they sell you to the highest bidder.”

Sanj stood still in his tracks. Jennifer gasped—her face fell into her hands.

“Sasha—”

“Hey,” she said, holding her hand up, her voice cracking. “I know you might think I'm paranoid. But I have seen some horrible things in my life. Let my experience help you. If this man is criminal enough to snatch Maeve from a bar, I don't know what he's capable of.”

Jennifer's hands dropped in her lap. Her face was red and wet from a rush of tears.

“This is a different world. A world of privilege. A world where a man takes what he wants and has no consequences to face.”

“Maeve,” Jennifer said, wilting.

Sanj's heart sank. He knew about Maeve and Jennifer's closeness. How they had gone to college together, lived together. Now Jennifer worked for Maeve's publisher, and even though they didn't live together anymore, they still were close.

“Here's the thing about Maeve,” Sasha said after a few minutes. “She's tough. She gave me this.” She pointed to her scar. “She's a survivor, if ever I've known one. “

Jennifer laughed suddenly as she glanced at Sasha. “She did that to you?”

Sasha nodded. “You may choose not to believe I'm Sasha Barnes. But I am. And meeting Maeve was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Jennifer's head tilted and her eyebrows knitted.

Sanj had seen her make that gesture a million times, perhaps. Something slipped in him. Did he want to cry? Scream? Curse? Kiss her? Why did this woman have such an effect on him?

He turned to face Sasha.

“Okay, we're all on the same page. We all want to find Maeve. Jackson wants us to find her. He made that clear.”

“And I should mention the publisher is working to get him out,” Jennifer said. “The lawyers are working on it.”

“Why aren't they working to find Maeve?” Sanj asked.

“They are concerned, of course,” she said. “But they are not convinced she didn't leave him. She's gotten a bit of a reputation. You know what she was like before Jackson.”

“What?” Sanj asked. “Ridiculous.”

“That's why I'm here and thank God they are paying for my trip,” she said. “I think so, too. They say they've received no communication from a kidnapper. They just don't know what's going on. Nobody does. With Jackson, it's more clear cut. Lawyers can deal with the situation, but you know how they are, especially since it crosses borders. It's going to take forever,” Jennifer said.

Sasha picked something up from the table. “A note from my friend, the desk clerk,” she said, grinning. “And a key.”

“A key?” Jennifer said, lunging for it and grabbing it from Sasha.

“Let's go,” Sanj said.

As they walked from one side of the hotel to the other, they did so quietly, but the air vibrated with energy.

Sasha watched as Sanj opened the door and flicked on the light switch. Their suite was just like his. The front room was meticulous—and didn't look lived in at all—as did the living space.

“This is odd,” Jennifer said. “It's so clean. I don't see any of their things—even in the kitchen.”

Sasha sensed trouble. But what could it be? Her eyes scanned the place, which was clean, free of dead bodies. So what was she feeling? She turned quickly, feeling as if someone was watching her.

“Sasha?” Sanj said. “Are you okay?”

“Just a weird feeling . . .” she said.

“Paranoid again,” Jennifer said as she walked up the steps to the bedroom.

“I am not paranoid,” Sasha said, folding her arms over her chest.

“They've definitely cleaned in here. Maeve and Jackson are a mess,” Jennifer said.

Sanj laughed. “You can say that again.”

Sanj and Sasha followed Jennifer up the stairs and into the bedroom. Empty bedroom.

“Where are all of their clothes?” Sanj wondered out loud.

Jennifer flailed her arms, then shrugged. “Did the hotel take their things?”

The empty hotel suite echoed.

“According to the note, they have left things as is because the local police asked them to do so,” Sasha said.

Jennifer guffawed. “Well, this isn't right. Something is very wrong here. Nothing is here. Nothing.”

“I see none of Jackson's equipment. I was hoping for something to help us out here. Wait,” Sanj said. “Didn't Maeve have a hiding place for notes? It seems like I remember Jackson making fun of her one night because of the way she copied everything and hid it away.”

“Like she was a spy and not a cookbook author,” Jennifer said. “Yes. I remember. Help me lift the mattress,” she said to Sanj.

The first mattress they lifted contained nothing underneath. The second mattress, however, had a notebook stuck between it and the box spring.

“Eureka,” Sanj said, holding the book in his hands like it was treasure.

Sasha was impressed with Maeve's ingenuity—and the fact that Sanj remembered her practice of hiding things. She hoped it would lead them somewhere.

“Nothing else around,” Sasha said.

“Wait, we didn't look in this bathroom,” Sanj said as he opened the door. Sasha started to walk in, then froze. Something scurried. She heard movement.

“Light, Sanj,” she managed to say.

When the light flipped on, Sasha gasped—in front of her, a mass of something big, brown, and fuzzy scampered, like a wave of big, black hairiness. She blinked. It was one of the biggest tarantulas she'd ever seen in her life—and it had what had to be hundreds of babies writhing around in the room, on it. Was it hissing?

“Back away,” Sanj said, pulling her back, finally shutting the door.

“Jesus,” he said, growing pale. “I've never seen anything like that in my life. Call the management, Jennifer. Now.”

Sasha wilted on the bed in a daze.

“What the hell?” Jennifer said after she hung up.

“Tarantulas,” Sanj said.

“As in plural?” Jennifer said, eyes widening, hand to her chest.

He nodded. He pulled Sasha off the bed. “Let's go,” he said. Sasha nodded. Nice man. She would follow him anywhere. So strong. So solid.

As they walked downstairs, a gentleman from the hotel entered the room.

“What is the problem?” he asked.

“The upstairs bathroom is full of tarantulas,” Jennifer said. “What kind of place is this? I happen to know the thousands you charge per night. Rip-off.”

“Just a moment, please—” he started to say.

Jennifer turned to face him.

“Did you say tarantulas?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “And another thing. There's nothing else here. What happened to all of their clothes? Their things? Computers? Cameras?”

But the man wasn't listening—he ran down the hall mumbling something in Spanish.

Chapter 16

“I
think I should stay here,” Sasha said to Sanj as he packed.

“What?” Sanj said. “You've come this far searching for Maeve. You've been such a big help. Why not come with me?”

“I'm running out of money, for one thing,” she said.

“Don't worry about money,” Sanj said, folding a pair of slacks. “I've got you covered.”

“Maybe we're jumping to conclusions,” Sasha said.

“Maybe,” Sanj said. “But we really have no other leads. Besides, I'm just getting to know you. I'd like us to spend more time together. How about you?”

Her heart cracked open. “Of course,” she said, then leaned into him and kissed him.

Dare she tell him Saint Lucia was a place full of memories for her? Some good—but mostly bittersweet. She and Paul spent several days in Saint Lucia at a clubhouse on the beach. He was a member of an exclusive BDSM club. They had several beautiful places throughout the world. This place was extravagant. Yvette, his wife, came along with one of her young lovers. She loved men who were around twenty years of age. And Paul sometimes liked to watch as Yvette “taught” her men.

The clubhouse sat on the edge of a mountain and the view was amazing. Of course, she was high almost the whole time she was there—the cocaine made the Caribbean colors even more intense. So long ago, but the memory was vivid.

“I wish you wouldn't . . .” Paul said to her as she leaned across the table and started to inhale the white powder.

“What?” she said. “How dare you speak to me like that?” She smacked him across the face. “Down on the floor,” she said, shoving his face to the floor. “Don't get up until I tell you.”

He liked her this way.

He gazed at her with such eager compliance, submission, it made her ache for him. She reached for her cuffs. No fuzzy or velvet cuffs for them. Metal on soft skin. She reached for his arms, pushed him to the floor, cuffed him.

He groaned.

His ass—so round and high. For a man his age, he'd kept a beautiful shape. Cooking was such a physical activity for him. She ran her fingers between the upper parts of his ass cheeks and scratched him a bit, making him squirm.

She reached for a paddle. Her buzz taking completely over now. She was wet with want as she brought the paddle to his ass. The sound of paddle on flesh made the desire prickle in her.

“Ow!”

His ass reddened.

“Mmmm,” she said. “Nice red bottom.” She lifted the paddle again.

With Paul it usually took five swats. That's when endorphins would take over—the pain would become so intense for him it became pleasure.

She ran her hand over his ass with a gentle touch. First pain, then a little respite. She brought the leather paddle down with a thump.

“Ahhh,” he said, wincing.

She knew he was hard, thought about his cock on the cool tile floor, pulsing against it, pressing harder into it with each swat. He was getting two for one. Pain on his ass, and pain on his cock.

“You like that, don't you?” she said to him. “Tell me how much you like me to spank you.”

“Love it,” he breathed. “Love the way you do it.”

She lifted the paddle again and came down harder than she ever had before. “Prick!” she said.

He screamed in agency and joy. Such a fine line. He ground himself against the floor.

“Don't! Don't you come,” she said. “There will be more punishment!”

She picked the paddle up and saw tiny beads of blood now on his ass. Just the way he liked it. He writhed. When she brought the paddle down, it would be over.

And so it was. Right after he came on the floor, she turned him over and straddled his face, his back pressed against his own ooze.

“Lucky boy,” she said, pressing herself into his face. “You get to taste me.”

His tongue, his lips, his mouth, on her, in her. Her wet self all over his face—in his mouth and nose. She unraveled on his face, just the way he liked it, feeling a sense of suffocation as he ate her. He could barely breathe. She knew it and yet ground down into his face with one more thrust, letting the current of the orgasm rip through her . . .

“I love you,” he said, gasping for air. “I want you to collar me. I want to serve you forever.”

“That's what they all say,” she said and smirked.

Chapter 17

S
aint Lucia was a speck of lush green in the middle of the turquoise blue sea. Sanj had a window seat on the plane, but he'd only just looked out. He'd been watching Sasha with chocolate. She didn't seem to notice.

She held a huge chocolate bar—dark and bittersweet. She broke off a piece for him and he opened his mouth. He preferred smooth milk chocolate, but this flavor popped.

“More?” she said.

He nodded. “No, please, you have it all.”

He watched as those full lips went around the bar. She bit a chunk off. She closed her eyes as a look of bliss came over her. He remembered—in every detail—her face when she came as he held his mouth to her, the way she moved, the way she tasted. It was, in fact, a little similar to the way she looked now, enjoying the chocolate bar.

Damn, he needed to bed her again soon. He was certain to lose his mind from his hunger for her. He needed a clear mind to function—the only thing that would help was nearly impossible—now that Jennifer was around. But he'd gotten each one of them their own condos on the island, and finessed it so Jennifer's was on the other side of the resort from his and Sasha's. He hoped it would work out that way.

Sasha's chocolate bar melted and she licked her fingers. She was enthralled—not paying a bit of attention to him as she licked the chocolate off herself.

He had to look away. He stared out at the green Piton Peaks of Saint Lucia rising from the ocean floor. Is this where Maeve was? On this beautiful island? Could such treachery exist here?

“Hey,” Jennifer said, leaning across the aisle.

Sasha and Sanj glanced at her.

“Look at this,” she said, holding up Maeve's notebook. “It's a map of Mozingo's plantation. She has this part circled.”

“A grounds storage facility,” Sanj said. “Why would she have it circled?”

“Remember,” Sasha said. “Didn't Jackson say she accused him of using pesticides? Maybe this is where she found evidence.”

“She doesn't mention it in her notes,” Jennifer said. “And they've recently gotten some kind of huge ethical farming award or something.”

“They need that,” Sanj said. “I had Mariah, my accountant, do some digging for me. She said they have been steadily declining. The industry is struggling these days with all of the child labor issues, not to mention pesticides and problems with bugs.”

“Child labor?” Jennifer asked.

“Very difficult to police,” Sanj said. “On the one hand, to Westerners it appears like a major problem. Some of these kids are quite young and sometimes being exposed to harsh conditions. “

“And on the other hand?” Jennifer said.

“On the other hand,” Sasha said, “the income is helping extremely poor families.”

Jennifer sat back in her seat. “Hmmm,” she said.

“Sasha, since you know so much about cacao, what do you know about pesticides?” Sanj asked.

“It's a huge problem,” Sasha said. “I read recently about a farm on the Ivory Coast busted for DDT.”

“DDT?” Sanj said. “I thought that was illegal.”

“Two problems with that statement. It's not necessarily illegal everywhere. And you assume that all cacao growers know or care if it's illegal. Some of them are getting away with it, so they continue to do it,” Sasha said.

 

“This notebook is full of some great stuff,” Jennifer said after a few moments. “Like, did you know only nobility were allowed to have chocolate at one point?” She looked at Sanj with a sideways glance.

He shrugged.

“And the Aztec Emperor Montezuma drank fifty or more portions daily, served guests this royal drink in ceremonial golden goblets, and treated it like a nectar for the gods,” she read.

“I like that. It is nectar for the gods,” Sasha said.

“Check this out,” Jennifer said. “Maeve writes that Cacao beans were currency throughout the Mesoamerican world. An ancient Mayan myth says cacao beans were given to men by the gods. The Mayans celebrated the new year with the Possum God carrying on its back the Rain God with an offering of cacao beans.

“She has a note here that she wants to go to Mexico next, and she has a little heart drawn next to it. Here's an interesting story . . .”

But Sasha blissed out on her chocolate and didn't really want to listen to stories. She couldn't believe she sat in a plane next to Sanj heading for Saint Lucia, a place growing the finest cacao in the world.

They'd left Ecuador in a hurry, which suited her fine. If Snake still hunted her, she'd just escaped him again. So she felt a little more relaxed, but the fact that Maeve was being held against her will gnawed at her. Though she knew Maeve had excessive sexual appetites, she could not see her leaving Jackson to go traipsing around the world with a man she'd just met.

She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling sleepy, and drifted into the space between sleep and wake. Sinking. Was she in a bath? She felt warm water circle her and smelled the luscious bubbles surrounding her. And a man was with her. She wrapped her arms around him and slid him into her. He entered her with a blast.

“Don't hurt me,” he pleaded.

But she knew what he wanted.

She shoved his head under the soapy water and held it under as he squirmed beneath her—the length of him still in her. She watched the clock—and let him come back for air.

“Please!”

But she recognized the passion in his eyes. He wanted to come as he felt no breath left in him.

“Please!” he said again, his jaws quivering in passion as he shoved himself farther into her.

Please was not the safe word. She felt him twitch—he was going to come.

She shoved him back underwater. He spasmed, then his body went limp.

 

“No!” she screamed, twisting in her seat.

“What?” Sanj said, holding on to her shoulders. “What's wrong?”

Sweat poured from her. She grabbed on to Sanj.

She was on an airplane with Saint Lucia in front of her.

Only a dream.

“Dream,” she said. “It's nothing.”

She'd never lost one of her clients. But the edge was sometimes so precarious that she had always been frightened of killing one of them. Sometimes it haunted her.

“Nothing?” he asked. “You don't look well. Can I get you a drink?”

The seat belt light went on and an announcement came over the intercom system. The plane prepared to land. Everybody who stood found a seat and buckled up, and the flight attendants slid through aisles for last-minute checks.

Sanj slid his arm around her and Sasha caught Jennifer giving her a sideways glare.