“If I were drunk, I might be less obtuse and lewd.”
She muttered something just as a wave broke near her bare feet, then gave him one of those direct looks, her chin high and challenging.
He crossed his arms. “I didn’t hear you.”
She sighed as if her patience was running out. After a moment she said, “Please come out of the water so I don’t have to stand here and shout.”
He made a mock bow. “Sure thing, Smitty. Whatever you say.” And he walked out of the water.
“Oh my God!!” she shrieked and spun around. “You’re naked!”
“What’s the matter?” He held out his arms. “I’m just doing what you told me.” He grinned at her back.
“Intimidation isn’t going to work,” she called out over her shoulder.
“Then how about compromise, sweetheart?” He paused on purpose. “Let me think.Hmmm... I suppose you could take off your clothes. Then we’d both be naked. If that’d make you feel better, go right ahead.”
She shook her head and walked up the beach, not looking back.
He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Anyone ever tell you, Smitty, that you’re no fun?”
“I wasn’t put on this earth for your amusement, Hank!” she hollered back without stopping.
He shook his head, then said under his breath, “That’s what you think, sweetheart.” He strolled over to a palm tree and picked up his pants. He looked at them for a moment and grinned like the devil.
He glanced back to the beach, but she was gone. He rubbed his chin with one hand. Well, well, he thought, she’s cooked her own goose.
Then he remembered it was Smitty. She hadn’t cooked it. She’d probably burned it. He glanced down at his clothes again and laughed. Revenge was going to be sweet.
* * *
He swiped her clothes.
Got up bright and early just for the occasion and waited until she went to take her bath at the freshwater pool near the waterfall. He slunk along, his back pressed to the rocks that walled off the pool. As he moved, he rubbed his hands together and grinned.
Life was grand.
She was in the water. He could hear her splashing around and humming. He chuckled to himself and waited. He figured if he could get an eyeful while he was getting even, then what the hell?
He peered over the edge of the rock wall. He could make out the reflection of white female skin under the water and long sleek legs. He gave a quiet whistle through his teeth.
He took a few more minutes and caught a sweet glimpse of the finest ass this side of heaven. Then he waited until she was across the pool, swimming on the other side.
He whipped around the rocks and snatched up her clothes. She was leaning back and dipping her hair in the water, her arms raised and her cleavage exposed.
He stood there, because it was too good to pass up. He moved toward the rocks with all the stealth he could muster. He paused for one last look.
Whoa, boy.
Then he disappeared around the rocks before he could say Smitty’s goose was burned.
It was his lucky day. He had an eyeful of woman and a bucketful of oysters. After stealing her clothes, then leaving them in the hut, he’d gone diving and found an oyster bed.
He brought up a bucket of oysters, his mind thinking of pearls more than of food. He trudged onto the beach, dropped the bucket, and pulled on his pants and shirt.
Come to Papa, all you sweet island pearls.
He took out his knife and sat on the beach, opening the rough-shelled oysters one by one.
