The Accidental Mistress

chapter Ten

"Ugh! I feel like I need a bath! C’est des conneries!" Joi slammed the door behind her. Zuri turned from the window where she stared out at the sea in deep thought. Her sister shook her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "That Elliot man makes me want to throw him and his ego off the top of Mount Pelée!"


"He's that bad?"

"Oh, Zuri. He’s vile. Do you know he had the nerve to tell me that he'd like to dine on some island food?"

"And?"

"Let me finish. He said he could start with the sweet nectar between my chocolate thighs. Who the hell says something like that? The man is gross."

Zuri cringed. "Well I'm glad you escaped. I needed to talk to you. I spoke to mère this morning. I have news, Joi. Père's has had a setback."

"What? No, what kind of setback?"

"Stress. You and I know he is not a man to sit back idly as his daughters conduct his affairs. Père’s pride is going to drive him to another stroke. Mère is worried, and I feel awful because—"

She turned from her sister. Joi put her hand to her back and Zuri sucked down her fear. She almost blew it with Christophe, but she wasn't sure how she could make this work. "Joi, he's just not feeling well. So we have to step up things. Get Christophe Montague and that man Elliot to agree to a plan that will give père his business back."

"That's what we're—"

"No, we will start with vaval tonight."

"Zuri, We are already pushing the staff beyond belief. We have to be careful."

"I agree, so I've called in some help from the Lagoon. They should be here this afternoon to set up. It will be okay."

"If you say so," Joi scoffed.

"Trust me. Besides, I think I can win Christophe over."

"You keep referring to him by his first name. Did you two connect?

"Huh? No, not that way, I'm just saying. Oh never mind. Forget what I said."

Joi sighed, "Père is going to be fine. And so are we. Even if we lose the Oasis, we will be okay."

"Absolutely not. I won't let that happen. Don't say it again."

Joi sighed in defeat.

"We got another problem," Zuri said. "He wants to see our budgets, have access to our system. I have to distract him. I don't want him to know how bad the debts are just yet. So the vaval will be perfect. Okay?"

"Fine. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Got some cute swimsuits? The sexier the better," Zuri smiled.

Joi’s eyes lit up. "You're going to dress up?"

"As the Queen Mother. What choice do I have? You can do my hair and all. Just make me sexy."

"Why?" Joi narrowed her eyes on her. "You never really liked dressing up before."

"It's custom," Zuri lied.

"Mmmhmm, whatever."

***

"I think I'm in love, man," Elliot exhaled. "Joi Baptiste is one hot piece of ass! Elle va bien. She's so sexy. And she's feisty too. I've tried my best lines on her and nothing. But I can tell, she's softening up to me."

Christophe closed the lid of his laptop. His Google search returned very little about the Baptiste family. He would call his office and put some people on it.

"Did you her me?" Elliot said.

"I heard you."

"What about Zuri? Nice rack on her. You two hit it off?"

Christophe frowned. "We aren't here to hook up with these women."

Elliot dropped down in his chair and shrugged his shoulders. Christophe could debate his cousin's lack of respect for women, but he didn't have the energy. Besides, he hadn't done much better. Zuri's change in attitude, hopefully, would give him an in road to figure things out. Still he remained tense as too why he bothered at all.

"So what now? We taking this place or what?" Elliot asked.

"I don't know yet," Christophe said, reclining back in to the sofa. "But I have to admit. I'm tempted."

***

The Blue Oasis consisted mostly of chateau suites private and near the clear waters of the leeward beaches. The hotel was an old fashioned Victorian structure three-stories high. It’s where guests dined and received pampering from the heated lava stones off of the cliffs of Mount Pele. The chic could indulge in the extravagance along the walkways east or west from its doors.

Christophe received a personal invite to the festivities. Following the music, he found himself headed to the outside terrace. The party had already begun. The warm night carried in a light breeze that caused yellow, red and green light lanterns to sway. Christophe head went back to the colorful streamers and papier-maché figures of devil's and masquerade masks flapping in the wind.

Vaval, as she called it, was already two month's past. The guests at the Oasis partied merrily. The atmosphere was casual. Christophe looked down at his attire. He'd chosen a pair of jeans and a white linen shirt for the evening's event. When he and Elliot arrived, the tall chef named JP greeted them both. He gave a nod to a decorative table at the front of the dance floor.

"Zuri asked that you dine here. It is the best seat for the show."

A table decoratively set with a buffet fit for royalty was presented before him. Christophe hadn't realized that he was famished until he laid eyes on the bananas, coconut, guava, mangoes and the breadfruit. He inhaled the peppery spice of gumbo with the sweet flavor of yams and chinese cabbage.

"S'il vous plait. S’assez-vous." Jean-Paul led them to awaiting chairs. They were actually instructed to sit next to a chair adorned with bright feathers like a throne.

"May I make a suggestion, monsieur?" Jean-Paul asked. He pointed to the center clay bowl with lumps of fish in tomato sauce. "This is our island favorite. We call it court-bouillon which is snapper in my own special spicy sauce, and next to it is blaff, boiled snapper with chives."

"Merci. Sounds delicious," Christophe said, his gaze slipping over to Elliot who was already eating. Jean-Paul noticed his Elliot's gluttonous ways. He lifted a brow curiously, dismissed them both and stepped away. It was hard not feeling like the oddity here, especially with Elliot drawing attention at every turn. But Christophe tried to relax. Under the thundering beats of island drums, he piled a hearty helping of gumbo and blaff. The bandleader crooned a French Creole song to the audience, encouraging them to sing along. The music had a rhythmic calypso flow that reminded him of zouk music he knew had origins in the Antilles. The flavor was a mix of reggae and salsa with instrumental bamboo flutes, bells, and a synthesizer harmonizing perfectly with the singer's voice.

Christophe ate, smiling at the band. Thoughts of Zuri burned away all others. He searched for her in the crowd of diners. She wasn't there, but he had hopes she would appear soon.

"Une boisson?" A tawny beauty in a yellow bikini with her body and face brushed in gold raised a wooden jug. She batted her eyes at him and began to pour.

"It's called ti-punch, cousin," Elliot leaned over and shouted into his ear "It's a mixture of sugar-cane syrup and home grown rum. They love it here."

Christophe frowned at the drink poured to the rim of his mug. Elliot’s familiarity with the food and customs spoke to his flagrant disregard for responsibility. He wondered how many trips had his cousin made to Martinique prior to this visit. Christophe glanced over at his cousin who was rocking side to side and working his neck to the music. Elliot gulped down big swallows of the ti-punch then elbowed him to try it. Christophe picked up the celebration mug and smacked it against Elliot's in a toast then tossed back his first drink. The sweet and sour burned, then soothed as it went down. He found it hard to deny the rest and drank from the mug until it was dry.

"See, it's awesome, isn't it?" Elliot nodded. He grabbed the jug and poured more. Christophe relaxed. He was working himself up for nothing. Zuri wasn't his conquest and this place was like any other. He'd offer her a little guidance, try to make amends for being a dick before, and then be on his way. Maybe get a little sun while he was at it. He hadn't taken a vacation in years. He ate until his belly was full. With sweet rum lacing his tongue he found a new appreciation for the food. Everything was so colorful mixed with the fragrance of the Chilean spices a couple of deep inhales set his senses on fire. Red snapper, lobster, urchin, crayfish and octopus were just a few. Christophe reached in a piled more on his plate.


"What are you thinking?" Elliot asked.

"Coming here might have been a good idea after all."

"Because you want to buy the place?"

Christophe frowned. "Why do you keep pushing me to buy it? From what I can tell, you enjoy this island regardless if we own a hotel here or not."

"That's not the point," Elliot snapped back.

"Tell me what the point is."

Elliot blushed and averted his gaze. He shrugged. "Nothing, I, ah, hey... it's about to get interesting. Watch this."

Christophe glanced over to the band singer who concluded his song. The drums and tambourines shook frantically then slowed in pace to a low seductive rhythmic beat. Was she going to appear now? Instead of Zuri a troupe of dancers ran in screaming and blowing whistles from either side of the outside patio through the tables to the dance floor. They wore decorative hats of devils, she-devils, and ghouls in bright gold and red,. The feathers to their hips, arms, and calves shook as their bodies, slick with oil, moved with suggestive harmony.

"Wooohooo!!" Elliot cheered.

Christophe watched, mesmerized. The women from the lightest to the darkest shades of brown paraded before him gyrating with the lower halves of their bodies. Elliot slammed his hand on the table several times beating out his excitement. Unfortunately, his antics drew unwanted attention to them both. The girls responded by dancing for his pleasure, some with each other. Elliot drooled like a fat man at an all you can eat buffet.

"Finally, something shuts you up," Christophe chuckled.

"I can't... they are so beautiful. I can't take it," Elliot babbled.

Christophe shook his head. He decided to finish meal to keep the erection from stirring in his pants. The show was entertaining, the women were beautiful, and the music was the added bonus. But secretly, he had hoped to spend the night making peace with Zuri, not being entertained by himself. As the dancers worked the party into a frenzied excitement, many dispersed between the tables of spectators to grab the hands of men and women and bring them to the dance floor.

"You want to know why I want this hotel? Look around. F*cking love this island, Christophe. This is where I want to retire," Elliot grinned. He got up from his seat, grabbed his mug of ti-punch and downed another big swallow. Christophe reclined in his chair, mildly amused, as Elliot strutted out to the dance floor. Two beautiful girls flocked to him immediately. A tall leggy woman with petite breasts and wide hips worked her body against his front, and a shorter curvy woman rubbed up against him from the back. Elliot held his hands up over his head moving as if he was born to the custom.

Christophe sighed. He cast his eyes over to the watching members of the staff. There was masked contempt staring back. No wonder they think we're raiders; he's acting like a complete jackass. I've been tried and convicted as just the same. He drank more and more of the punch with the vibrant sexual display of debauchery before him. Tourists and locals were embracing, rubbing, grinding against each other on the dance floor. The sea breeze whipped through the large light lanterns causing them to bounce on their wires and the air was filled with laughter and singing. As the hour crept on, there was still no sighting of Zuri.

Christophe contemplated leaving once more. It was then he realized how much he looked forward to seeing her again. The band concluded it's set, and many returned to their seats. But the band was just warming up. The drummer gave a low sultry stroke of his palms to the drums. The beating began to rumble through the crowd as the synthesizer a man in dreds picked up-tempo.

"Whew! I'm having both of them tonight," Elliot said, dropping in his chair next to him.

Before Christophe could respond, another singer stepped the microphone. She asked the Oasis to prepare for the Carnival Queen and their beloved Queen Mother. Many heads turned to the beach. The wait wasn't long. Joi emerged from the steps that lead to the sands. She was decoratively adorned in purple. Her bikini was suggestive in all the right places. Her hips swayed and the feathers circling her waist fluttered. Her arms, breasts, torso and legs were dusted with purple glitter. She walked through the diners and bowed graciously before their table. Her headdress was a purple and green fan to the back of her head with a band that stopped with a jeweled point to her forehead. Her curly locks were streaked in purple and green as well. His heart began to beat madly in his chest. His throat went dry. Even though Joi was a vision, he knew Zuri would be even more. He was right. Zuri strolled in from the beach entrance with her arms extended gracefully through the crowd of diners. She wore a silver string bikini. It tied around her neck, leaving triangular silver swaths of fabric to cover one-third of her large proud breasts. When she approached, they jutted upward and bounced in perfection. Her small waist added rounded definition to her curvy hips with feathers swaying with her seductive approach. She was devastatingly beautiful. The makeup around her eyes was like a painted on mask. A deep liquid brown, they glistened under her long lashes.

Christophe sat forward.

She continued toward him.

Her brown skin was brushed with sliver glitter, and her ankles were cuffed in decorative bracelets, as were her wrists. Zuri kept her gaze trained on him as she crossed the small dance floor in bare feet. She winked. Christophe smiled. Zuri turned to face an adoring crowd.

The plump perfection of her ass was in view. The bikini bottom slipped into the crease of her buttocks, and made him want to bite his bottom lip to hold back the moan deep in his throat. She was a tiny thing with the body of a goddess. Her hair was a riot of dark brown curls picked out into an extravagant cloud around her face and streaked in silver. Her headdress was twice the size as Joi's but equally as decorative. She turned slowly for the crowd and gave him a suggestive smile. There was no mistaking the challenge sparkling in her eyes. Could he deny what her beauty stirred in him? As if he ever could. She was vastly different than the beauty he met in the bar of a Chicago hotel. And Christophe was certain she wanted him to know it.

Christophe’s eyes swept the others and noticed the men all saw what he saw. A possessive urge to cover her and carry her away overcame him, and he felt his body tense the ticks in his jaw as he fought to remain seated. His gaze returned to her face. Her features were delicate with a small pert nose. Her lips were full and tempting, slicked with shimmery rose-colored gloss. Christophe desired those lips on him, covering his cock with sweet love bites. He ached to have her soft tiny body beneath him with her large breasts brushing his chest and her silky thighs wrapped around his waist. He tried to shake that vision from his head. But when the music began to play, and she began to move, he was done.

Dusky brown beauties raced to the dance floor to dance with her. Zuri’s movements made them all fade away. She dropped her hands to her hips and shook everything before him as the drummer matched her rhythmically. His cock jumped in the seat of his pants as blood sizzled with fiery heat through his veins. She made things worst by dancing with the other ladies a round about fashion that gave him another view of her beautiful backside. As if she heard his inner beast howling, she lifted her ass and rolled it for him. He sucked in a strained breath as his pulse-rate pounded in his ears. The celebratory dance came to an end. People cheered, and Zuri bowed. She walked over to the table. Christophe was out of his seat to assist.


"That was one helluva entrance!" Elliot panted, standing too close behind him. Christophe shoved him back with his elbow. Elliot tried to go for Joi but she took her seat and dismissed his offer of assistance.

Zuri remained shy and gracious as she accepted her crowning chair, which contradicted her dance moves. He helped her to her seat. A staff member removed her crown and the small cape on her shoulders. Joi was seated on the other side of Elliot. She had been one of the dancers, but it wasn't until now that Christophe noticed.

"Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

"I am now," Christophe confessed.

Zuri gave a flirty laugh that made desire burn through him like a blowtorch. She fanned herself, eyeing the food. "Have you sampled the lambi? It’s my favorite of JP's. "

"Lambi?"

"Conch... yes, now the secret is you must boil it until it's tender. JP then minces it up into a batter that makes fritters. Here, try some. " She forked a small fried ball of lambi and brought it to his lips. Christophe opened his mouth and accepted the sample. There was a pepper flavor, with the taste of cucumber, tomato, and onion mixed with the sweet tender flesh of conch. He liked it a lot.

"Aha, so you do have good taste," Zuri smiled.

"It's good. I usually don't like anything fried, but it is good."

"Well there's plenty more where that came from. Eat, Christophe. Enjoy yourself."

"Trust me. I am."





Zuri wasn't sure if her plan would work. God knows she had never tried this hard at seducing a man, especially since part of her had been stirred by the lust she saw in his eyes. She was grateful her brown skin shielded the heat flaming her cheeks after her dancing. Vaval is a common celebration and her dancing was nothing shocking to her people, but she saw that look in his eyes. She knew what they once shared, and Christophe had now been reminded of those times with vivid clarity.

He looked sexy as hell too and his aftershave reminded her of the stubble on his cheek when it once brushed hers as he pleased her between her thighs. Zuri gave him a sideways once over. The white shirt on his tanned skin made the blue in his eyes pop at her when he caught her peeking under her lashes. Zuri immediately looked to the dancers entertaining the crowds. She sipped her ti-punch too fast, and stifled a cough, with her fist to her mouth. She let her gaze rove everywhere but his face, only to be pulled back to those beautiful blue eyes when he spoke.

"I think I've found another favorite drink. Not a rum man but this ti-punch is delicious."

She reached for the jug and filled his mug, then hers. "It's served with everything here on the island. I never really had a taste for alcohol, but you already know that don't you."

Their eyes locked. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. His power over her was so subtle with its promises of wild passion that she didn't even realize she was grinning.

Take it slow, Zuri. You want to soften the man up, make him desire you enough to give you what you want, but don't you dare take it any place beyond that. Remember what happened the last time.

She sipped her ti-punch again to keep from speaking. She felt a light tap on her shoulder. Elliot leaned over and whispered in her ear. "As the Queen Mother, Joi says I must get your blessing to dance with her. So may I?"

Zuri looked at Joi who shook her head no behind Elliot's head. She laughed. "Sure."

Joi rolled her eyes. When Elliot shot her sister his wicked grin, she rose in defeat and took him by the hand to the dance floor. Zuri knew Joi would make him pay dearly for his request.

"Your cousin doesn't know what he's in for," Zuri chuckled. She and Christophe watched as Joi untied the purple silk scarf from around her arm and blindfolded Elliot. The drumming increased and many dancers left the floor. The crowd cheered Elliot on, and he grinned broadly.

Joi turned him around three times and then nodded to the three men, all over six foot tall, dressed in drag. Their cocks in sacs, the men wore thongs and fake boobs with colorful wigs and feathered skirts. Joi stepped aside and gave them Elliot. The men gyrated their bodies against Elliot’s from all sides while he rolled his hips eagerly.

Christophe laughed so hard he nearly fell over. Zuri did as well. It didn't take long before Elliot heard more laughter than cheers and snatched off his blindfold. He looked stunned, then repulsed at his dancing company. He shoved the guy in front of him off and stormed off the dance floor. Zuri gave Joi a high-five when she sat down.

"I apologize, Christophe, if we offended, but your cousin needs to learn some manners."

"No. No. You gave Elliot exactly what he deserved," he smiled. Zuri liked his smile. She realized he didn't do it too often in her company. Maybe that would change.

"I'm sorry, Joi, about Elliot," he yelled across Zuri to her sister. "Underneath all that smarmy bravado is a good guy. He just doesn't know how to relate to women."

"And you do?" Zuri asked. She glanced over to find him smiling. Good, he's not offended.

"I guess we Montague men lack a bit of finesse with the ladies. It's a long story. Maybe I'll share it with you sometime."

Zuri gulped down the ti-punch to keep from taking another barb at him. Why did she constantly want to insult him? Her emotions ran high when he was close. "So what do you think about the Vaval? Have you ever attended one in the French Caribbean?"

"I have in Guadalupe many years ago when we opened our resort there." Christophe nodded. "Let's see, it um, it begins before Lent? Am I right?"

"Oui, you are." Zuri clapped. "On the last day of Lent, we burn the Vaval King, but don't worry. He’s not real." She nodded to the papier-maché figure swaying in the wind. It was attached to a ten-foot high pole to the back of the dance floor. "We'll burn it tonight. That signifies the end of our little performance"

"So, the Oasis does this every night?"

Zuri laughed. "The truth is we do it weekly. Most times bi-weekly depending on the guest list. Vaval is a scared custom here. We don't want to disrespect or make light of the tradition. We just offer a small sample as a welcoming to our visitors. This performance, especially mine, was for you monsieur."

She felt him shift a little closer.

"You enjoyed it, didn’t you?" she asked.

"Well yes, but I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"I got the distinct impression you didn't like me."

Zuri shrugged, "You and I both know that's not true. I guess I was a bit embarrassed over how things ended with us in Chicago. But that was years ago, and I'm a different woman now."

"Yes you are," he rasped. She glanced over and saw his eyes on her breasts. She sighed. Of course it was just physical with him. Men like him never saw past their erection. Zuri heaved her chest and gave him a full view. Look all you want. In the end, you will give me what I want, Christophe Montague.

"You aren't eating."

"I—"

Zuri lifted her fork and fed him a small bite of boudin. He relaxed around her and that was definitely a good sign. When she glanced up, she saw Jean-Paul glaring their way. Zuri needed to act before she lost her nerve or Jean-Paul ruined things with his quick temper. He had always been protective over her and Joi, though she knew his feelings extended a bit further. Several members of the staff kept glancing her way as well. Dancing would be the best cover.


"Do you want to dance?" Zuri asked him.

"I don't think I can handle it," Christophe chuckled.

"I'll be gentle. I'm the Queen Mother, Christophe. It's an insult for you to refuse. My offer is your honor." She tossed her chin up proudly, her hand extended to him. Christophe looked from her to the watchful eyes of the others.

"Well?"

"No blindfolds?"

Zuri giggled. She nodded. "Oui, no blindfolds!"

"Why the hell not." He rose. Her dancers immediately circled the dance floor barring anyone from joining them. Zuri noticed he shyly looked around at those watching. He walked stiff almost wooden as she led him by the hand. He had been led to her territory now. She allowed him to pull her close the minute they stepped on the dance floor. She felt an eager affection coming from him when their bodies were pressed together. Her hands ran down the sides of his arms to relax him. She rubbed her curves over his tall frame. He put his hands to her hips and squeezed. Oddly enough, his touch felt confident and firm. Zuri turned slowly against him to give him her backside. Rolling her hips and pushing her ass into his groin, she grabbed his arms and crossed them in front of her. She instructed him in the dance of lovers, the Martinician way, and smiled when she felt the push of his erection. He enjoyed it.