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Instead, she’d been greeted with banana puree (bananas covered in sugar and coconut milk and then baked), Firi Firi (fritters made from flour and coconut milk), tuna marinated in line juice and coconut milk (a famous, must-eat Tahitian-style raw fish); mahi mahi prepared with a vanilla sauce; platters full of local fruits—bananas, papaya, pineapple and mangoes; a smorgasbord of French salami and cheeses; crunchy baguettes; and a variety of freshly baked muffins and croissants. So LaQuandra settled on two banana muffins and a scoop of pineapples with lemon grass tea.
While everyone else ate, Kendall stole a moment and tilted his head back and took in the beauty of the sky. He inhaled, deeply, then exhaled as his gaze latched onto the pink sandy beach ahead of him. The sound of Egyptian music played lowly in the background. It was soothing. Sensual. And hypnotic.
The couples ate in near silence save from the occasional grunt or groan, or the click of silverware against their plates.
“Mr. and Mrs. Evans, how did the two of you enjoy your first night on the island?” Dr. Dangerfield asked the couple as she eyed them over the rim of her teacup.
She was casually dressed in a white embroidered tunic dress; her skin glowed.
“It was fine,” Krista said as she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin. Although she and Kendall had since made up from their early morning quarrel, she was still annoyed at him for getting mad at her, but she had no intentions of letting the other couples in on her annoyance with her husband. That was private business.
Dr. Dangerfield nodded. “And your meal, how is it?”
“Very good,” Krista admitted. She tried the raw fish in coconut milk. And, to her amazement, it was surprisingly delicious and melted in her mouth. She nearly moaned in between bites.
“And yours, Mr. Evans?” Dr. Dangerfield asked.
“Huh?” Kendall’s mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t wanted to come to breakfast, but Krista had insisted, demanded, that he not embarrass her with his absence the first day of their stay on the island. So here he sat, trying to push past his resentment toward his wife.
Compromise. That’s all he did. Compromising with Krista was one-sided—with him somehow getting slighted sexually—and it was slowly becoming exhausting. And yet he’d come to his senses from earlier and knew he wasn’t going to leave her—not over a lackluster sex life, but—fuck if the shit didn’t piss him off. Kendall, however, resigned himself to the fact that he would continue to indulge his sexual desires, secretly, with Persia—or with someone else, if things between the two of them managed to change.
Life happened. People changed. Minds changed. And Kendall was okay with that. He’d go back online and seek out another freaky woman, if he had to, to give him what his wife wouldn’t.
Nevertheless, Krista was a good woman. A bit moody—and bitchy at times, but what woman wasn’t?
“She asked you how your meal is,” Krista said, cutting into Kendall’s reverie, while trying to tamp down the bite in her tone.
Kendall let out a chuckle, placing an arm over the back of Krista’s chair. “Oh, my bad. I got caught up in the view,” he said, gesturing toward the panoramic sight of the ocean. “Everything’s really good.” He’d opted for bonito fish cut into cubes, marinated in lemon juice, sliced onion, tomatoes, cucumber, and homemade coconut milk.
Dr. Dangerfield smiled at Kendall. “I’m glad you are enjoying it. Here on Passion Island you must eat like a king, which is why every meal is a feast. Like our libidos, we must feed our appetites. Nourish our minds, bodies, and loins.”
LaQuandra grunted. “Well, someone needs to tell my husband that since he doesn’t seem to think my loins need a feeding. Isn’t that right, Isaiah?”
Isaiah lifted his gaze from his plate, a forkful of fish midway to his mouth, and gave her a hard stare. He then slid the fork into his mouth and shook his head. He wasn’t about to get lured into LaQuandra’s bullshit. Not this morning. And still every line in his body strained with tension.
He needed to fuck—just not her.
Smirking, LaQuandra reached for her third muffin, then took her knife and sliced it in half, before spreading coconut butter over it.
“Ooh, this is so damn good,” she said over a moan as she bit into it. She chewed, swallowed, and then licked her fingers. “I can just taste all the sugar and fat.”
Brenda chuckled. “And feel it already clinging to my hips.”
“Yes, girl, yes,” LaQuandra said, before she took another bite of her muffin.
Roselle leaned over and kissed Brenda on the cheek. “I love them sweet, sexy hips, baby. The more the merrier.”
“Lies,” Brenda said playfully.
Roselle leaned back in his chair and eyed her ass. “My baby got back.”
Krista fought to keep a frown from forming on her face.
Brenda giggled. “I sure do. But I don’t need any more than what I already have.”
“Well, how about donating some of that butt right on over here,” LaQuandra said over a laugh. “I’ll gladly take it. And put it to good use, too.”
Isaiah shook his head again. More ass would be nice, but quite frankly, he’d prefer to have her jaw wired shut.
