My Story, Yours Too.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Making a Splash in Jamaica
Please enjoy the following excerpt from my novel, Woman on the Verge of Paradise, due for release some time in the future.
Perched on a sun-warmed spot of stone overlooking the cliffs at Pirates' Cove, Negril Jamaica, I was privy to an influx of magnificent sights. While this “no worries” isle boasts resplendent scenes, one specimen instantaneously claimed top of my list. A seasoned diver, he leapt from steep cliffs and floated downward in elegantly angled positions, landing with equal grace and poise in the welcoming ocean 40 feet below.
Returning from his fifth magnificent dive, the man arrived on land and began strolling past me but halted. He turned to eye me and I reciprocated. I couldn’t help it. He appeared a delicious chunk of dark chocolate sculptured by Michelangelo, radiating sun rays from the most intimate of crevices and dressed with black spandex for public viewing.
“Hi, I’m Donovan.” He extended a hand.
“I, hi, I’m Robyn.”
“Come with me.” Like a puppy in heat, I pranced behind.
Focused on the subtle shifting of his tight buttocks, I followed as Donovan led me down a metal ladder into an underwater cave. We landed in an active, chilly ocean, sheltered atop and along the sides by dark stone walls that opened up to a glorious view of the fading blue sky streaked with yellows, oranges and reds. The waves nudged me, as I fought to secure my footing. Donovan planted himself in deeper water and I inched closer to him amid brief flirtations.
“No husband or boyfriend?”
“No, I came here alone, just to get away. The last one was crazy.”
“Did you make him crazy?” He teased.
“I don’t think so. I mean, I’m sure I didn’t.” Probably.
By this time we stood facing each other, little room in-between. With waves crashing against the rock, sun resting in the backdrop, and the titillating grazing of our warming bodies, Donovan’s juicy lips savored mine. I relaxed into the dreamlike moment, enjoying his luscious kisses and the touch of his fingertips moving gently up and down my back.
A sudden surge of rough waters ruthlessly forced me off-kilter, tossing me back towards the cave’s walls. My forehead crashed against sharp-edged rock. It hurt. I don’t remember incurring a concussion so I probably did...
P.S. Psst, Donovan is the man I have my hands on in the top right corner of my blog. (I didn't have a photo of us together, so I got creative.)