mixed with occasional, dirty talk went by. The tall man wasn’t hard. His frustration only worsened with his eagerness. Nothing stimulated him.
He pushed her off his thighs. He sat up next to her and put his hand around the back of her head. He forced her head into his crotch. She knew what to do. She sucked and sucked and sucked. His limp noodle wasn’t cooperating.
His frustration turned to anger during another ten-sucking minutes. She eventually came up for air much to his disgust. She smiled a motherly smile. Feeling something in her mouth, she raised her hand to remove it while saying "Don't worry honey, sometimes things....."
She didn’t finished her sentence. His fist caught her chin moving upward and sideways at the same time. Her long, red hair, swirled into her face as her head rocked sideways. Stunned, she fell head first off the bed. A quiet snapping noise sounded from her neck as the rest of her body flopped onto the floor.
That will teach her smart mouth, he thought. He waited for several minutes with the dizzies coming and going. Then he called out. "Ok, bitch, rest time is over. Get your ass back in bed."
When she didn't answer, he lifted himself off the bed. The long, tall redhead lay still on the floor. Her eyes were open wide, staring into the distance. He noticed she wasn't blinking.
The tall man caught his breath, leaned down and shook her. "Come on, get up bitch" he blubbered through the alcohol.
A few minutes more, reality began materializing. The tall man started to shake. His hunting instincts guessed the red haired dancer was dead.
He callously lite a cigarette to calm his nerves. Negative thoughts about his senatorial future began flashing in his mind.
If he were caught in a hotel room with a naked, dead woman his favorability polling numbers would plummet. Some of his friends and colleagues would distance themselves from him. His political career with its plush lifestyle was finished. He thought even Bill Clinton's, damage-control team, would have a tough time putting a positive spin on this scene.
He scrambled for his cell phone and called the bald man. "Hurry up here to my room," he mumbled, exhaling cigarette smoke.
The man laughed, "I'm not into threesomes."
"No, it's not like that. I think the girl is hurt…." His voice trailed off.
The bald man stopped him from saying anything more. "Don't say anything on the phone. I'll be right there."
The bald man puffed his way to the penthouse elevator. Three minutes later he was knocking on number eight's door.
As the door opened, he heard a whining voice say, "Hurry, come in. She's over here on the floor."
The bald man walked over to the girl. He briefly felt for a carotid pulse in her neck. Getting no bounce, he checked for breathing. Within seconds, he thought the girl was dead.
"You can tell me what happened later. We need to clean this mess. Get dressed and check that you have all your things. We're moving you across the hotel to another room."
"What about the girl?"
"I'll contact the arranger. He has an exceptional cleanup crew."
"What?" the Senator said confused and feeling more intoxicated.
"Right now you're facing a critical career choice. If you report this to the authorities, you can kiss your cushy political career good-bye. If you let me handle this, you can continue living as if nothing has ever happened. I can promise you more tall, redheads in your future….to screw, that is!" He smirked.
The tall man knew he was talking cover up. He also knew he didn't want to see anymore tall, women, at least for a while.
He knew all about cover ups. In Washington, DC, cover ups were a daily occurrence. "Ok. I'm out of here," the Senator finally said.
The bald guy looked down at the girl's hobbled body. "Honey, the desert sand is warm this time of year."
Chapter 1 One Week Later
"Kaia, you slut," remarked Kitiona as they walked into Coconut's Breakfast Hut on the outskirts of Pago Pago. They sat at a table overlooking the emerald bay fronting the city.
"Are you trying to tell me you never considered sleeping with Mac?" returned Kaia.
"Well, the thought crossed my mind."
"How many times, a thousand?"
Kitiona, a beautiful, shapely girl exhibited classic Eurasian features. Any Hollywood starlet would kill to have her blue-green, almond shaped, eyes highlighted with dark, full eye-brows and full lips.
Kitiona, still a virgin approaching her mid-twenties, considered responding. Secretly, she thought about Mac Streeter every day since returning home to American Samoa. But her focus had been continuing her father's work with the union. That was more than a year ago when she felt like a teenager on steroids. The investigation, Ben's team and bad guys trying to kill her seemed like a distant memory. Now, she felt like an adult with responsibilities. Responsibilities that included the 1 Law 4 All Foundation.
Kitiona finished chewing on a bite of her waffle and wanted to change the subject. Finally, she said, "We'll get around to doing it whenever." She continued under her breath, "whenever whenever!"
Kaia laughed. "How about when you're eighty years old!"
Kitiona regained her composure. "My sex life has nothing to do with your moving in on that tourist boy. Obviously, you're doing him. Now, you've got me picking you up outside his beachside cottage."
That morning Kitiona rolled up in front of the rented waterfront cottage on her new Harley Davidson, Blackline. She had picked it up at the dock that morning and was anxious to show her best friend the custom, gun-metal flake paint job.
"His name is Mark. And he's not any old tourist. He's tall, handsome, and kisses like….", Kaia's voice trailed off.
"Why is he staying so long?"
Kaia returned from her temporary dream state ready to justify her intentions. "Mark is working on his doctorate in literature. He's here researching Pago Pago's connection to Michener, Stevenson and W. Somerset Maugham."
Kitiona laughed. "You didn't even know those authors existed until you met Mr. Mark."
"Hey. You're talking to the e-newsletter queen of the South Pacific. Mind your tongue."
"I'll give you credit for connecting us to the rest of the world, electronically. But whether we needed to be connected is debatable."
"Information is power."
"You read that on a kindergarten poster."
"Maybe so, but it's true."
After finishing breakfast, they mounted Kitiona's Harley and rode towards their offices in the town. Kitiona worked out of the union office next to her friend Jared's jewelry store. Kaia's e-newsletter office was located across the street.
They parked the Harley outside the union office and sat on the bench fronting the union's large, bay window. "So,
