Chapter 6 Zaxon
Would you like to take a taste of me?
She’s trying to bore me to death. That’s the only reason I can come up with as to why she’s insisting we walk down every single hallway and check every single bathroom and ice machine.
Yesterday was far more entertaining than today is starting out to be.
She has to be doing it on purpose. Either she greatly dislikes having fun or is punishing me for the whole nude beach and spa incident.
From where I was standing it seemed like she was enjoying our back and forth.
But this morning she seems to have woken up on the prude side of the bed.
She’s barely laughed at any of my jokes.
We turn down yet another fucking hallway, lined with doors to guest rooms and suites. There is nothing exciting about checking the carpet for lint and making sure all the lightbulbs are securely screwed into their sockets.
No sunshine, no music, no laughter. Just the sound of Bea’s hums, muttered comments, and pen scratching on the paper in her notebook.
We’ve been inspecting the halls of all the hotel floors for hours, and I’ve just about had it with staring at the colorful patterned never-ending carpet. I liked the teal turtles when I woke up this morning but now, I’m pretty sure they’re going to haunt my nightmares.
“Are we almost done?” I ask Bea in my most condescendingly exasperated tone. You know the one teenagers give their parents after being forced to spend ten minutes in an educational museum instead of at an amusement park.
“Not even close. There’s still a lot to see and inspect.”
Bea turns to face me watching me drag my feet, tail, and wings behind her. The purple gingham sundress flares around her hips as she swivels. I really like her dress of choice today. If she likes purple, I have something purple I could show her.
“You are more than welcome to go do something else. I’m perfectly capable of doing my job without a chaperone.”
“Nice try but Antoinette said to stick with you, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
Even if I didn’t want to follow her around all week I would, because Antoinette is a feisty little goblin, and she scares me. No one goes against Antoinette. There’s a reason she’s the resorts senior manager in charge of basically everything.
“Fine. Just stop complaining. It’ll make my job go faster.”
“Can we at least take a lunch break? I know I’m hungry and you must be too by now.”
On cue, as if it was waiting for me to point out the time, Bea’s stomach growls. Loudly.
I point at it as if she couldn’t also hear it. “See. You’re hungry too. I can’t let you continue without feeding you. And just think, while we’re getting lunch you can cross the restaurant off your list of places to inspect.”
I give her a hopeful smile and raise my eyebrows, willing her to agree. She lets out a huff and her shoulders drop, and that’s when I know I’ve won. My wings and tail perk up. Finally, we’re going to get out of these empty silent hallways.
“Don’t look so smug. I’m only agreeing because I’m hungry, and I do still need to check the Roof Top Terrace Restaurant and Bar.” Bea points a finger at me, her pen clenched between her fingers.
I raise my hands in surrender but have an extra pep in my step as we head for the elevator to take us up to the roof for lunch.
Eating lunch with Bea is surprisingly nice.
We make small talk, mostly me answering questions about the resort.
Some of which I know, others I don’t. I tell her about my favorite places on property, favorite food at each of the restaurants.
All of which I’ve eaten at more than once over the past nine years.
I can cook, but why bother when there are world class chefs a short walk or flight away?
Bea tells me a little about herself, mostly her job. She’s trying very hard to remain distant, but as the day draws on, she slowly loosens up and I can tell she’s getting more comfortable having me around.
Before she can drag me through every hallway in the resort, I insert my plea for a more entertaining location. “Can we please inspect somewhere more fun for the afternoon? I don’t think I can survive more hallways and stairwells.”
Bea glares up at me with a ‘I think you’ll live’ look. I give her my best ‘No I won’t, I need sunshine and fresh air or I will literally die’ look. She rolls her eyes and groans.
“Fine. Where would you suggest we go next?”
My grin is wide, and my day is about to get a whole lot better.
“The carnival, of course.”
We do head to the carnival, but not until Bea finishes walking the last few floors of Coconut Tower. The one we’ve been trapped in all morning. I allow it because it gives me time to form my plan for the afternoon.
Once we’re finally out of the pastel neon paradise hallways and on our way to the small carnival area on the opposite side of the cove from the spa and nude beach, I’ve settled on my plan to get Bea to loosen up and have a little fun. First stop, ice cream.
There’s a permanent ice cream truck parked on the boardwalk at the edge of the beach near the water activities center.
I don’t think the vehicle even runs but it looks like a vintage truck, painted pastel pink, mint green and white with curved edges and a sliding side window.
Guests can walk up and order just like any other ice cream truck.
An A frame sign sits on the wood planks of the boardwalk advertising today’s flavors and specials.
Ooh, pineapple and lavender surprise. I don’t think I’ve tried that one yet.
I love all flavors of ice cream and the fairy who runs the truck always comes up with the best combinations.
I don’t even question what they are, I just order and enjoy.
“Come on. Let’s get some ice cream,” I suggest merrily.
“Why?” she questions skeptically.
I look at Bea dumbfounded. Why would I want ice cream? That’s a stupid question.
“Why not?”
My simple two-word rebuttal has Bea stuttering for a reason not to enjoy in the nectar of the gods. When once again her mouth gapes like a cute little fish, I know she doesn’t have one.
“Exactly. So, we’re getting ice cream. What’s your favorite flavor? Let me guess.” I purse my lips and squint at her, comically rubbing my chin as if in deep contemplation. “Lemon.”
For the first-time all-day Bea finally cracks a smile.
“Not even close.”
“Okay then, what is it?”
Bea’s eye glitter from behind her glasses, even through the tinting. “Salted caramel with chocolate swirls.”
“Oh, you have a sweet tooth, huh?”
She shrugs but doesn’t shy away, not at all ashamed of her sweet tooth, and she shouldn’t be. I have a sweet tooth too, for sweet little starfish like Bea.
“You know, I’m very sweet. Would you like to take a taste of me?”
There’s that pink blush I’m learning I enjoy watching, heating her cheeks and spreading down her neck. Maybe I should take a taste of her instead. As a matter of fact, I’m determined to get a taste by the end of the night.
“I think the ice cream is sufficient.” Bea tries to act unaffected but it’s obvious she is. Smirking I step forward in line and order our two ice creams.
Watching Bea lick her ice cream cone is by far the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
Her pink tongue lashing out and laving at the melting dairy then sucking on the tip.
Fuck me. It’s like watching her suck cock and I fell it on my shaft every time she licks the dripping cream, from bottom to top and around my head when she takes the top between her lips and sucks.
I did not think this through. I was supposed to be teasing her not the other way around.
I avert my gaze to the water as we walk along the edge of the carnival, stealing brief glances of Bea to gage how long until she’s done eating her ice cream.
I take large bites of mine, which I’ve heard give humans a thing called ‘brain freeze’ but I myself have never experienced it.
The concept baffles me. Brain freeze. How can you tell if your brain is cold? Nonsense.
Flexing my wings, I let them stretch out behind Bea like I did yesterday, creating our own little bubble of space on the path. Plus, I think she likes my wings, I caught her staring yesterday, same with my chest. I may have oiled a bit extra this morning in an attempt to draw her eye.
“Ok so I think we should start at the ring toss. It’s a tough game but it’s better to start with the most difficult and end with the easiest. You don’t want to be irritated at the end of the night.”
“Ring toss?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell me you don’t like carnival games.”
“I don’t like carnival games,” Bea deadpans, completely fucking serious.
“I don’t believe you.”
~
I should have believed her. Literally every game I try to get her to play she shuts me down. Ring toss, no. Balloon darts, no. Tilt-a-whirls, no. Carousel, no. Cotton candy, no. One way or another I’m going to either get her to play a game or get on a ride. She can’t say no to everything.
“Why are you so determined to make me participate?” Bea asks after she once again turns down my request to play a game.
“Because carnivals are fun, and I want you to have fun. What do you have against having fun?”
“Nothing, as long as it’s at the appropriate time and doesn’t involve sharp objects, spinning till I puke, and type two diabetes.”
My laugh is deep, and I don’t suppress it, I let it out and let it take over my face.
She’s so much funnier than she knows. Witty and smart mouthed.
Far too good with her mouth. Visions of testing her talented mouth flash through my mind and I nearly groan out loud. It’s the ice cream all over again.
“You should tell more jokes, Starfish. You’re very good at them.”
“I don’t mean to be. I’m simply stating facts and observations.”
“With the skilled verbal delivery of a seasoned comedian.”