In Paradise Ch. 01

Chapter 1

My name is Allyn Roemer, and these are the events that occurred before the moment I died.

The beach by the caves is where I met him. His bronzed curls rushed in the wind as he ran towards me, the sun beaming off of his tan complexion, accentuating the crevices of his abdomen. His face was familiar to an extent or could have just been one of those faces. I highly doubted it. His chiseled facial features matched sheer perfection as they hustled in down the sand in a panicked frenzy.

He was the type of guy I thought would pass me over, not even a hello or good-bye. It was a tad unfortunate that he had not, the hit was hard. As he peeled himself off of me my ears rang something fierce, the sound of his apologies fading in afterwards.

"Sorry, sorry" he chimed. As he grabbed my hand and we dove behind the limestone beach wall, I could feel his arms wrapping around my lower waist pulling me closer to him.

He was panting, as if there was not a bit of breath in his lungs that would suffice. As his chest rose up and down my eyes drifted slowly to meet his alluring gaze. His eyes were a bright forest green with a disarray of black flecks about it. I could hear the screaming of a hundred females fill the air as I got lost in them. It was a praise long due, such beauty deserved much adoration. I would have been lost to them if his lips hadn't moved. A thin line of the top and a subtle plumpness for the lower lip, a shade darker than the rest of his sun kissed complexion. His hand moved in front of my face for a first wave and then a second. Oh wait... I think he's talking.

"Are you okay?" he said once more, a bit louder than the first several times.

"Oh I'm fine" I managed to say without stuttering. Men and I were never always a good combination. I always seem to make a fool out of myself by stuttering, noting my obvious attraction, or saying something stupid.

"Nothing my big ol' butt can't handle" I laughed, and cue my stupidity. If my skin was three tones fairer he'd probably get to see the blood rise in my face.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I could have sworn I crushed you in the sand" he finished as he began to kneel in closer inspecting my head for cuts and bruises. He ran his fingers through my neck length curly hair, dampened by my recent meeting with the sea. As he did my eyes widened and my heart quickened. I'm the type of girl that has never been so close to a guy. Not to mention we were kneeled down in a corner where hardly anyone could see us. I gently hit his hand away, which is mostly me trying to make it sound better when I say... I hit his hand away.

"I'm entirely fine" I reassured him with an almost fake smile. I got up and dusted the sand from sticking to my bottom. "No worries here. See you around" I ran off wide eyed simply ready to go home.

I had been on the beach today because I needed someplace to think. Finding a vacant beach on a weekday in New Providence isn't too much of a task. Although when the cruise ships come into the Bay it becomes quite a chore. However, I was lucky that the few good beaches were still unoccupied, well, mostly unoccupied.

I climbed into my car, not bothering to get rid of the sand that stuck to the heel, sole, and between the toes of my feet. Right now, I was just embarrassed to high heaven. No real reason to be, I just was.

"Are you crazy Lynn!" Cassandra blared over the phone. I had gone straight home and opted for a hot shower to wash off the sea salt and called one of my best friends to tell a story too. Not to mention the warm bowl of soup I was able to get from my parents house a few days ago. These were one of the few relatively free things to do on the island, swim, eat your parents home cooked meals, and gossip.

"You should have totally stayed there and showed him a good time" she said with a smile. I could imagine her on the other end, the wireless phone cuddled up to her ear as she played one of the online games her family and friends gave up on convincing her she enjoyed entirely way too much. Even if that was the case, she was in a happy and successful relationship at 21. However, being at the same age and actually leaving the perimeters of my house to actually have some remnants of a social life, the number of successful relationships I've racked up over my lifetime was zilch, nada, cero. Only thing I have are the remnants of those that crashed and burned.

"He also sounds like a tourist the way you describe him" she added. "You know there always coming over here and there looking for some sort of adventure." I fiddled with the soup in the bowl on my lap and in a few seconds decided I didn't want it. "With your soft voice and innocent demeanor all you had to do was look up and say 'ravage me'. He would have been at your beck and call. Wow and even if he was loaded, you would have been fleeced for a solid 3 days to a week. Of course depending on how long he was staying here."

"You seem to have me confused with one of the characters in your semi-erotic novellas." I offered.

"You know you want to be" she chimed. In the deepest darkest recesses of my soul was the small paper pushing elf of a girl that agreed to this statement. However, this was only because Cassandra's characters, although flawed in their own right, had been undoubtedly loved by men with success and outlook in life. Men with a sense of where they were going, how they were going to get there, and worth most of the admiration is that they knew what they wanted and wouldn't stop until they got it. Cassandra and I always knew we wanted to be authors; the hardest part of it was to find a publisher with enough faith in our ideas that strayed from the island life persona or to find $6000 dollars to publish it ourselves, either way we were at a loss.

"Well it's a small island" she said. It sounded as if she was distracted for a moment, probably combating someone or whatever it is she does on those games of hers. "Let us hope for another chance meeting".

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"Ah Dex, please don't stop" she exclaimed, her voice resonating in the spacious condo. His thrusts were hard and long, and at other moments slowed, teasing his valley of warmth for the day until he came back up to speed.

"Dexter" she'd slur. "Ha..r..der.... Fuahhh..... me harder" she'd coo with incomplete sentences. He knew though, what she had come for. She had knocked on his trailer room door asking for an autograph, trying to seduce him into giving her more than that. She came for one of his rumored fuck sessions. Of course it was one of the biggest tales in Hollywood at the moment, his expertise in the bedroom. Something he knows his publicist cooked up to promote his relatively spicy new movie "Along the Pink Sand". However, with her practiced smile she'd simply adjust her glasses with her left hand while holding her papers in her right and deny the allegations with a 'why whatever do you mean?'

"Damn Brunette" he spat as he pummeled the blonde writhing beneath him. He decided to finally push her over the edge, grabbing her neck with one hand and holding her leg in place with the other. Faster he rode her, taking out pent up frustration on her body. His hips thrusting in an almost blur as he buried her back as far as the couch would allow. And as he came so did she, singing his name to the heavens. He fell on her and rested for a few moments before she muttered

"You really are the best fuck aren't you?" she asked. He grimaced at her words and slowly got up, his now flaccid member slipping out of her with ease. He then took a few steps from the couch to the open kitchen as she cooed for him to return to her. He removed the condom and, instead of simply throwing it in the trash, he securely lodged it to the depths of the trash heap, closing the lid by lifting his foot from the black pedal. He spun around to watch wide eyes suddenly return to normal loving stares. His suspicions were right this time, although most times he does it for good measure. These girls he thought, you can't trust them as far as you can throw them. She was only waiting for him to be sloppy enough so she could nail him to her with a pregnancy scandal and child support bills.

He made his way towards the stairs as he slicked blonde half curls to the nape of his neck.

"Where you going?" she asked.

"Oh yea" he started. "Carrie, you need to be out in ten"

"Its Samantha" she said with a furrow of her eyebrows. "And what..."

"Really, you sure it's not Carrie?" he shook his head, willing his sarcastic personality away. "Well Samantha" he said as he stuck his fingers in the air, spreading them out to either side of him standing there as naked and proud as the day he was born. "Clearly you haven't done this before" he said, then pointing his fingers downwards. "I want you out in ten minutes" as she opened her mouth to protest he added "I got security on speed dial so you better hurry up before I make it five"

With a pouted fury she gathered her clothes and began to make herself look decent. As she used her last few minutes to polish off make-up and fix her hair a tear made its way into her eye. She cocked her head back before it had a chance to fall.

"You knew this could happen before you went and did it so at least hold it until you get in the vicinity of your car" she thought.

"If you don't leave soon I'll be tempted to dial 1" he shouted from upstairs.

Her fingers dug into her palms as she stormed out of the condo doors, closing them as hard as humanly possible. A vase on a stand close to the door swirled and fell shattering on the floor.

"Oh well that vase was top heavy anyway" he muffled into the sheets of his king sized bed.

He woke up later to the desire to run a mile, or at least the stretch of beach that was offered to him. After putting on some clothes and sneaking passed his publicist, Jennifer Harding, he was able to step a foot on sun laden sand. He began with a few stretches here or there and started jogging on the farthest part away from the dry sand on the beach where most of the people laid soaking in the sun. After a few minutes in, the amount of people became scarce and he began to build some endurance by tracking in the sand. He was careful not to become winded and enjoyed the smell of the salt burdened air. The solitude of jogging on sand between the trees and the ocean was all too welcoming and they embraced him like he was brethren. However, to his demise the trees ended and a long stretch of road began to hug him from his absented side. He continued his trek until a tour bus came slowly by. The sudden screams, cries and flashing cameras made his eyes jar open and his feet picked up pace. The women of the tour bus almost killed the poor bus driver, trying to get him to stop.

"DEXTER!" They wailed. And so began the small grin to his face and the sprint to the beach's end.

Looking back on the mob of women he had gained a decent gap between them. But some of them were runners, others were just determined. Rounding a blind spot on the beach Dexter finally looked forward but it was two seconds too late. He hit someone and laid them flat out in the sand with his body.

'This mother--' was his first thought as he began to take in what he rolled in the sand. Her body was dampened, probably from just getting out of the water but it was soft to the touch. Her skin was like glistening topaz in her two piece bathing suit laying there basically spread eagle for him, her more than ample chest ready to fall out of it given the slightest push and oh God how he wanted to push. Held up by his palms over her body he began to feel her stir, and was surprised of the short time it took for his partner in crime to stand at attention. He quickly peeled himself off of her before the object of his desire was any wiser.

"I'm so sorry. How stupid of me I wasn't watching where I was going. Sorry, sorry" He offered her his hand and soon heard the voices of adoring fans closing in.

He took her hands and led her to the crook of a limestone beach wall. He hugged her back bringing her closer to him, satisfying his body's ache to be close to her with the benefit of being partly disguised by the ensuing mob. To anyone who sees they'd just be a couple having a bit of private time on the beach. He looked down into her eyes, the color of a perfect hazel and cinnamon blend. He occupied his time just staring into them, enjoying the electricity the closeness of their bodies brought. He hadn't noticed he was panting until late, hoping to God that it was as a result of the sprint and not this woman's effect. It suddenly scared him to think someone could hold so much power over him. As the crowd died down and sounded as if they had given up, he thought it safe to speak.

"Hi my name is De-- Dylan" he almost shouted. "And you are?" but there were no words, just her simply searching his eyes for something. "Are you okay?" he began to question.

'I did hit her pretty hard' he thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked once more, waving his free hand in the front of her face.

"Oh I'm fine" she beamed. Her smile had him lost for words, how it danced on her face like faeries in the spring, almost touching her doe eyes that had more depth to them than the deepest ocean. "Nothing my big ol' butt can't handle" she added with a laugh.

He eased out a chuckle at her body reference searching her face for more things he liked in her.

"Are you sure?" he asked smiling. "I could have sworn I crushed you in the sand" he finished in an almost whisper as he found something else to adore. Her lips were almost hypnotizing, begging to be caressed with his. He kneeled in closer inspecting her head for cuts and bruises, but in reality was looking for the right moment to hold her head in his palm and claim her lips as his own. He ran his fingers through her neck length curly hair, dampened by the sea. As he had, he felt his hand tapped away.

"I'm entirely fine" she assured him with an almost fake smile. She got up and dusted the sand from her full bottom, and at that moment he wished he could do it for her.

"No worries here. See you around" she said beaming her pearly white teeth. She ran off to an awaiting sedan, picking the keys up with a set of clothing waiting on the beach.

He watched her as she walked off but not just her features, her pleasantly round features that seemed to magically curve inward and outward in all the right places. No, it was her leaving from his grasps with no means to ever contact her, not even a name for the ever convenient chances of facebook. She hadn't even recognized him, which was actually something he particularly enjoyed. He casually turned around and made his way back to the condos not too far ahead.

'Girls like that with bigger assets and smaller waistlines are a dime a dozen' he assured himself and almost faltered as he heard how heartless he sounded.

To be continued...