Sample Sunday - Untitled Anthology Project

Arianna peered out the window of the private jet as it began its descent, flying over Montego Bay, Jamaica, still in disbelief over the current turn of events. She was kept in the dark over who requested her and was at a loss over why such an elaborate production had been made on her account. The only information her handler would provide was that she would be “working” in Jamaica, utilizing her considerable “assets” for the duration of about four days.

It wasn’t as though she wanted to complain about the setup, nothing could be further from the truth. The negotiated fees for services rendered were enough for her to take the rest of the summer off if she wanted to. This would have made sense if it were a regular client, but he wasn’t so much as a referral from one of her longstanding clients. She wanted to be skeptical, but her curiosity continued to get the best of her, overruling her logical mind.

The plane touched down, taxiing across the tiny runway, making its way to the jetway for its singular occupant to deplane to the awaiting limousine sitting on the tarmac. As she continued to marvel at the lush green trees and white sand beaches leading toward the clearest blue water she’d ever seen, Arianna felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She fought the urge to bypass the limousine and find the quickest path to those beaches. A sunbathing session was in order.

The pilot, a Canadian in his mid-forties that Arianna felt was easy on the eyes, emerged from the cockpit to open the door, his smile matching hers, leading her to wonder what exciting adventure he might have had up his sleeve. “Ms. Baptiste, I hope you enjoyed your flight. Your driver, Kevor, is waiting to take you to your hotel. I’ll make sure your bags are loaded into the car before I leave for my resort.”

Arianna tried her best to keep from licking her lips while appreciating the chiseled features of her transporter, forcing herself to maintain eye contact before her body betrayed her. “Thanks, Vaughn, everything was wonderful. Will I have you as my pilot on the return flight home in a couple of weeks?”

“Mr. Reston wouldn’t have it any other way, Ms. Baptiste,” Vaughn replied. She felt his eyes roaming all over her svelte frame, making her squirm in her seat for a few moments. “It has definitely been my pleasure ensuring you’ve reached your destination in Jamaica. I look forward to the return trip also. It might be a longer flight than usual heading back to Los Angeles. Perhaps it might give us an opportunity to get to know each other better.”

The veiled, seductive invitation was something Arianna wouldn’t have minded accepting, but she didn’t want to hedge her bets. After all, she was here at the behest of Marco Reston, one of the most successful businessmen in LA. He was part owner of the newly relocated LA Rams, which lent to his overall sex appeal, considering he was a spry fifty-one years old. Whoever coined the phrase “black don’t crack” had Marco in mind and then some!

Arianna exited from the jet, watching as Vaughn took her bags from the cargo area and placed them into the trunk of a Cadillac XTS limousine. She quickened her stride, not realizing the heat would be as abusive as it turned out to be, getting to the passenger door with the hope that she wouldn’t have to wait long to get inside. Kevor, the driver Vaughn mentioned, got out of the driver’s seat to meet her and usher her as she climbed into the plush, air-conditioned interior.

She settled in, feeling her body melt into the leather fabric. As she felt the cool air brushing against her skin, she noticed the luxury accessories meant for her to enjoy during the trip to the resort: a dish of chocolate-covered strawberries and a bottle of Opus One Napa Valley red wine. She felt a tingle in her nether regions; if he went all out before he even met her, she could only imagine what he would do once he actually saw her in person. He’d only seen pictures and videos of her that her handler provided him, after all.

Kevor lowered the partition before he turned to face her from the front seat of the limo. “Mr. Reston sends his apologies for not being able to meet you this afternoon. He’s in the midst of consummating a deal with his investors in Shanghai.”

Arianna didn’t want to sound put off, but after a six-hour flight, she’d wanted to get some of the pleasantries out of the way. She needed to get some of the stress off her body so she could really unwind. “When will he return to the island?”

Kevor chuckled a bit to himself before he adjusted his expression to respond to her. “My apologies, Ms. Baptiste, but Mr. Reston is still on the island, he’s handling it virtually. His assistant is handling the in-person particulars. His intention is to be finished before you’re good and settled into your suite.”

Arianna shrugged off the response as she sipped the wine and took in the beautiful landscape. Her mind raced as the car meandered through the hills, getting a brief glance of the waterfall as they neared the resort. She’d always had a fantasy of having sex behind a waterfall, the water splashing through as a strong pair of hands gripped her hips with a strong, simultaneous hint of possession and aggression. She squeezed her thighs together as the fantasy manifested itself in her physical arousal, wishing that Kevor had closed the partition to give her the privacy she needed to relieve some of the pressure before they reached their destination.

Once in front of the resort, Kevor stepped out of the car and headed to the back door to let Arianna out. She was hesitant to leave the comfort of the cool interior to greet the grueling island sun again, but she figured she needed to get used to it since she would be there for the next few days. She waited for Kevor to unload her bags and take them inside before she endowed him with a gracious tip for his time and trouble in getting her to the locale safe and sound.

Walking into the front foyer, she couldn’t get over the opulence of the décor. It was decadent, to the point to where she wasn’t sure if she would want to go back to the grind and the smog of Los Angeles. It took a minute to get to the front desk, but once she got there, she was struck by a stunning beauty with the type of body most women would die to get. Arianna noticed the woman’s name, Sorayel, on the badge affixed to her left lapel.

“Welcome to Sandals Montego Bay, Ms. Baptiste, how was your flight?”

Arianna was taken aback by the immediate recognition. The last time she checked, she wasn’t famous on that level. “I am Arianna Baptiste, but how in the world did you know that?”

Sorayel leaned in, motioning for Arianna to meet her for a silent confessional. “Kevor was informed to call me when he had you in the limo on the way to the hotel. He told me to look for Ashley Graham’s doppelganger, and he was spot on. You are a stunning woman, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Arianna blushed, her face flushed with a redness that conveyed her convenient shyness when the situation called for it. They were still close enough for a flirty rebuttal, but she reminded herself that this was as much a business trip as it was a pleasure trip. She figured that she would have a second chance to make a first impression, especially since she could always call to the front desk for her to fulfill a “special” request.

Sorayel pulled away from their moment, going through the paces to get her access key ready before she stepped from behind the counter. “Come with me, Ms. Baptiste, I’ll be escorting you to the villa.”

“Please, call me Arianna. I’m sure we’ve gone past any informal references at this point, yes?”

Sorayel blushed for a moment, offering up a smile and nod, accepting the proposal. “Yes, Arianna, we’ve gotten a bit beyond that. After all, I was sort of lusting over you a few moments ago, correct?”

“Yes, you were, sexy, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t lusting over you at the same time, either.” Arianna allowed Sorayel to take the lead to her next destination, admiring her hourglass figure as she headed to the golf cart that was loaded with her baggage. “Lead the way.”

On the way to the villas, Sorayel observed Arianna’s expressions as they made their way to the beach front. “Have you been to Jamaica before, Arianna?”

“Actually, no, I haven’t. I’m just floored by all this beauty. How in the world are you able to live here and not just goof off all day?”

Sorayel giggled, shaking her head as she continued to drive. “Sometimes you take for granted the beauty of this world, and we are no different here. It’s one thing to be able to afford to enjoy them, and quite another to exist despite them.”

Arianna let that sentiment sink in as she took a look out near the edges of the beach, her eyes widening as she looked at the villas that seemed like they were floating above the water. As they got closer to the boardwalk, she could barely contain her excitement. Oh, my God, is that where I’m staying? I thought I was in Jamaica, this looks like something out of Tahiti!

“Here we are, Arianna. A short boat ride to the villas and we’re good to go.” Sorayel stopped the golf cart, signaling the valets to put the bags on the boat. A few minutes later, they were docking at the smaller island that led to the villas. Sorayel grinned as she regarded Arianna’s incredulous expression, waiting for a few seconds before acknowledging a man heading toward them. “Ah, good, Jordon is here to receive you.”

“Excuse me, who is Jordon?” Arianna’s confusion wasn’t lost on Sorayel, but she also realized that she hadn’t been in this type of environment before. She’d been in the Caribbean, but she’d been well-versed more in Bahamian surroundings. “And for that matter, why is he ‘receiving me’?”

“My beauty, Jordon is your butler, here to attend to yours and Mr. Reston’s needs for the duration of your stay,” Sorayel explained. “It’s a perk of the villa.”

As Jordon approached, Arianna stood in awe of how well-dressed he was. He was a handsome young man, his darker hue shining against the radiance of the sunlight. He nodded toward the ladies before making his way to the cart to retrieve Arianna’s bags. “Good afternoon, Ms. Baptiste, Mr. Reston informed me that he was expecting you. If you will follow me to your villa, please?”

The ladies followed Jordon to the access entry point to the five over-the-water villas, and once they walked through to the boardwalk connecting them to each other, Arianna wasn’t sure if she was as ready as she thought she was. Stepping through the door to the villa, she was certain she wasn’t ready.

The Tahitian-styled villa was something out of a dream. From the infinity pool and sauna outside of the villa, to the see-through glass floor that allowed her to view the marine life swimming under the villa, to the stairs that led down to an intimate couple’s patio complete with plush loungers, there was enough going on through the structure to where she wouldn’t even want to leave to explore the island.

What got her attention was the bedroom, equipped with a large, king-sized canopy bed and the large whirlpool tub. She paused for a moment to take in the environment, before noticing a fresh bouquet of flowers and a note on a small table in the sitting area.

Ms. Baptiste, I hope the room is to your liking. I apologize for not being able to greet you in person, but negotiations have hit a snag and are taking longer than I’d originally planned. I intend to arrive back at the villa around midnight. Until then, if you need anything, you can call Sorayel, she’ll handle whatever you need. MR

Arianna gave Sorayel a glance for a moment, a smirk spreading across her face as Sorayel blushed over the contents of the note. “Anything I need, huh?”

“Yes, Ms. Baptiste…anything.”