Free Crazy in Paradise by Deborah Brown Page A

stood, admiring his hard body.
    Neither one of us was able to hold off another second. He wrapped his arms around my waist, then lifted me straight up and laid my body down onto a chaise. He was on top of me, and then we reversed positions, I astride him. It felt so damn good!
    The sex was hot, frenzied, carnal. We were both so into each other. It went on and on before we reached climaxes together.
    “You do not disappoint,” he said rolling off me.
    “And neither do you,” I murmured, every fiber of my body tingling.
    He stood, pulling me to him, and lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he carried me upstairs to my bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this satisfied, my skin still tender from his touch.
    “Why did we wait so long?” Zach whispered.
    So long and so quick at the same time. I couldn’t help smiling. The sex was sensational and he’s easy to be around. Not what I expected. I laid my head on his chest, and drifted off to sleep.

 
     
    Chapter 10
     
     
    Instead of Zach stretched out next to me, only Jazz lay there. I felt tender all over, the imprint of Zach’s fingers etched into my skin.
    I listened to the sounds of the house. It was too quiet; Jazz and I were alone. A piece of paper lay on the pillow next to me. It was a sure sign he’d left and, instead of a good-bye kiss, a crummy note.
    ‘ Call you later, Zach ’.
    I started to cry. I wanted morning sex. I wanted to hear I was the best something. And, what did later mean? An hour? Next month? What a letdown; a fun evening with hot sex had ended with three words. Four, if you count his name.
    I dragged myself into the shower and cried until I got all wrinkly and the water turned cold. I put on a sundress with a built-in bra to keep the girls from jiggling. They were sensitive and I wouldn’t be able to tolerate them moving around.
    I walked downstairs to the kitchen. Jazz stood there waiting by his food bowl, howling at the top of his lungs. He wanted fresh water and his bowl of kibble topped off. He stared at me with a ‘fill it up now’ look on his face. I knew if I didn’t, the howling would never end.
    “Sssh, Jazz please. I always feed you. Do you have to do this every morning?” I quickly filled his bowl. He took a bite, then moved to the water bowl and waited, looking at me. “Meow.”
    “Okay, okay,” I picked it up and gave him fresh water. Jazz had me fully trained. He meowed, and I jumped.
    I opened the refrigerator door knowing I couldn’t make breakfast out of condiments. What I wanted was a caramel latte with lots of whipped cream from the Bakery Café. “I’m leaving now,” I told Jazz.
    He had gotten what he wanted and had already gone back to sleep.
     
    * * *
     
    I sat at the curb listening to a Jimmy Buffett song, when I noticed Zach sitting at a table at the end of the walkway. Beside him sat an attractive woman. They were laughing and talking. It appeared as though they just finished breakfast. She licked her fingers, reached across, and rubbed his cheek.
    I sucked in my breath and hunched over the steering wheel. The whole scene reminded me of my cheating, faithless, jerk of an ex-husband. Zach had jumped out of my bed to meet another woman for breakfast. I wanted to cry all over again, but I didn’t have any tears left. Last night was about sex – incredibly hot sex – but it was not a commitment.
    I’d seen enough. I jumped out of my SUV. On the way across the sidewalk, a pitcher of water sat on a nearby table, just begging to be used and, two steps later, I dumped it all over Zach’s head. “You bastard.”
    The woman began laughing and my anger turned to embarrassment, watching the water drip down his face. But as I spun around to leave, I walked right into a uniformed sheriff.
    “You just assaulted Mr. Lazarro,” he said. We both stood staring at Zach, stunned disbelief written on his face.
    “Assault?” I protested. “The pitcher slipped out of my