“The Truth Behind the Lies” from “Wicked Intentions” for Boyfriend Friday

I walked out without answering the bastard. While passing the nurse’s station, the attendant said, “These messages were left for you. Something about two men in jail.”

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing the small pieces of paper and shoving them into my pants pocket, my only thought being that I was glad I hadn’t needed help in that hospital room because no one ever showed up. I bolted through the electronic doors leading outside and hailed a cab. I told the native driver, “To the Cumberland Resort.” Afterward, I leaned back, enjoyed the ride and scratched my five o’clock shadow. I had time so called Rosa on my now operable cell phone, hoping she hadn’t left the Island.

“Ian, where have you been?” she asked with a worried tone. “I left several messages with the desk clerk at the hotel.”

The sound of her voice was as warm and comforting as sunshine. “Calm down, honey. I was whacked with a dose of voodoo, but I’m okay now. Can you meet me at my suite in twenty?”

“I’ll be there before you.”

We hung up, and I told the driver to step on it for an extra fifty bucks. I then called the Cumberland Resort and made arrangements for a dozen red roses, finger food and a bottle of bubbly to be delivered to my suite for me and my girl. To my delight, Rosa and I arrived at the front steps of the resort at the same time. As she exited her taxi, I ran to her from behind and swept her off her dainty feet. She squealed with delight. Though my bruises and that broken wrist hurt like hell, I raced through the entrance as some on-lookers gasped with horror while others laughed at my horny cave man antics.

“They’re going call the Island police on us,” Rosa said through her giggles as we reached my suite.

“Who cares?” I said as she pulled my entrance key from my shirt pocket and opened the door. We by-passed the hotel goodies I had ordered which sat on a nearby stand. I carried her directly into the bedroom and threw her onto the luxurious bed. She squealed again. “Don’t move.” I told her, before jaunting into the adjoining bathroom and retrieving two pain pills from the medicine cabinet. I swallowed them with faucet water using my hand as a makeshift cup. I then joined my future wife who had kindly retrieved our basket of goodies from the living room. We took turns feeding and undressing each other in between glasses of the bubbly and cuisine. Afterward, we got down to the raw and unbridled passionate fundamental necessities of life—fornication.

We holed up until the next evening and came out only after the management made frequent trips to my door begging us to keep down the noise. On my fourth call for room service, we were informed the resort had run out of food and perhaps we should try one of the area restaurants. We got the hint. They wanted us gone for a while. After a hot and steamy shower together, we hit the night life.


Buy links for “Wicked Intentions” 7 paranormal/mystery tales











About JoAnne Myers

I currently live in Dallas, TX., and attend MediaTech Institute. Besides having 6 books by 2 publishing houses, I write alternative/punk rock lyrics, and canvas paint. I enjoy art in any form, music, and animals.
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