Sugar Skull *Safe for Work*
Edited Post
I say “SAFE for work” because y’all know my writing lives in spicy-town.
Here’s a little tidbit from Spring Break 2. If you want the full, unfiltered version — NSFW, spicy, emotionally raw — it’s waiting for you behind the paywall.
-xo-
SC
Leigh put the finishing touches on her sugar skull makeup. Her grey eyes stood out from skeletal eye sockets, her mouth a cross-stitched Raggedy Ann smile. Even though Día de los Muertos wasn’t celebrated for several months, parties featuring the Day of the Dead had become a frequent trend in Mexico. Leigh figured it had to do with the growing number of Americans with vacation homes. If Yankees loved anything, it was dressing up.
Drawing back, Leigh studied the stark outlines of her face paint. It was imperative that she not be recognized. The getup had taken nearly an hour—not a long span of time by sorority girl standards. And it wasn’t that long ago that Leigh had defined herself by that familiar moniker.
She shook out her dark brown hair, adjusting where it hung below her shoulders. Pulling it up, she studied the effect in the mirror before letting it fall loose. Somehow, the face paint demanded an equally raw hairstyle.
She adjusted her red bikini top, figuring the disguise was as close to perfect as possible. She would blend right in with the rest of the guests. No one would guess her true intention.
“Are you ready?” a voice called from outside the bathroom.
“Just a minute,” Leigh replied, shaking out her hair to give it more volume.
With just the right amount of teasing, it rose high above her head. Turning, she loosened the knots on her string bikini. She expected the rest of the girls to dress similarly. No one wore much to these parties. Any opportunity to dress up seemed directly tied to the amount of skin a woman could show. Even Leigh marveled at her own transformation. There was something about a costume...
“You’re taking too long,” the accented voice continued.
To look at her boyfriend, one would think he was American. He even had the nickname to prove it—Guero, slang for “white boy.” A real child of the border, he had a heritage that straddled both countries. When Leigh met him, he was the head of a luxurious Cancún resort with less-than-desirable ties to the underworld. While their meeting had been dramatic, to say the least, their current situation had changed. Guero had recently sold out to the Mexican government. He was working for them now—and by association, so was Leigh.
“Perfection takes time,” she said, opening the door.
Guero sat on their king-size bed, dressed as usual in a black suit. Leigh admired his brown skin, striking hazel eyes, and full head of blonde hair.
“What do you think?” she asked, twirling around for him.
“You always look…” he began, reaching for her as Leigh skipped away.
“This actually isn’t the full costume,” she said, strutting towards him.
“Oh.” His eyes followed her as she removed her machete from the dresser. “Is it complete now?” he asked, smiling broadly as she posed with it over her head.
“Not quite,” Leigh cooed.
Taking one hand behind her back, she pulled the string of her bikini top, the fabric bunching together between her breasts.
Guero sat very still, watching her intently as she continued to tease him.
“You see, an assignment like this requires a really good disguise,” Leigh said, removing the top and letting it fall to the floor.
*** Want the steamy stuff? It's behind the paywall 💋 ***
“Are you ready?” Guero asked, merging onto the highway at breakneck speed.
“Will you stop asking me that?” Leigh kept her eyes glued to the road.
Spring had just broken in the Yucatán, and with it came intense heat and humidity. Leigh opened the vanity mirror, worried her makeup would melt. Even though she was fully prepared to eliminate her target, she was still a girl.
Leigh would have never guessed that this would be her life. What began as a disastrous spring break in Cancún had ended with her bartering for her life—and the life of her friend. She’d had to kill to get out of that, and she’d done it willingly. It was that or death. This ruthlessness seemed to work in her favor now. She and Guero worked together, taking out some of Mexico’s most wanted men.
“Where are you going to meet me?” she asked, studying her reflection.
“If I come anywhere near that place, they’ll know something’s up.”
He grew silent, and Leigh felt her nerves prick. He always drew away when they got close to a job. She understood it, but it reminded her too much of his past—something she was eager to forget. To forge ahead in partnership took a lot from both of them, but they had managed just fine. The future would be no different, Leigh assured herself.
“Is that why you changed into that getup?” she asked, eyeing his white pants and shirt with derision.
“You don’t like this look?” He gestured to his outfit. “Ma’am, did you call for some extra pillows?” he asked, in a fair imitation of a housekeeper’s whine.
“You’re way too good at that.”
“As a privileged guest of the Sol II Resort, I am your private driver. It was the easiest cover I could think of that would require me to wait on you.”
Despite her five years in residence at the resort, hearing the name still sent shockwaves down Leigh’s spine. It was there that she had met Guero. Everything since had been a blur, and after meeting him, time had seemed to stop. She’d transitioned from ditzy coed to girlfriend of a cartel bad boy with ease. There was no going back—and Leigh didn’t want to. She fit in too well.
“I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. It shouldn’t take longer than that.”
They pulled up to an armed guard. Leigh sat quietly as Guero provided their phony information.
“This is a lot of security,” Leigh said in a low voice after he rolled up the window. “I remember the old days,” she continued. “We stumbled all over this place without alerting anyone.”
“Times have changed,” Guero said. “Obviously.”
“I kind of miss it, though.”
“I don’t,” Guero replied, glancing over at her. “You don’t know what life was like before you came here—this is much better.”
“I guess,” Leigh said, still unconvinced.
Where Cancún was once a land of endless beach parties, it now had a Costco and a Walmart. The transition had brought a thin veneer of order to what Leigh knew as the Wild West.
But it wasn’t just that.
Once Guero became legit, Leigh felt something shift. He was no longer a cartel kingpin—just another gun for hire. Perhaps that was why she lusted for the days of old.
Did she miss the danger? The allure of his old life?
Hell no. It had put them both at risk, and she knew it. But a part of her—the irrational mind of a woman in the prime of life—knew that something had been missing as of late. Seeing Guero take orders from a government contractor didn’t feel right.
They didn’t talk about it. What was the point? She knew he did it for her—to keep up the lifestyle they’d both grown accustomed to. Guero doted on her. How could she fault his lovemaking? The way he swept her off her feet time and time again? She had nothing to complain about.
But there it was: a seed of something, buried in her gut. The desire for something new—to know him differently. Leigh frowned over the sensation as he shifted next to her.
“Do you want to go over the photographs again?” Guero asked, easing up the private drive behind a line of cars.
“How can I miss a Puerto Rican living in Cancún? He throws a Day of the Dead party in the middle of spring.”
“He may be Puerto Rican, but he’s gained a following here,” Guero said, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
“Is that why he’s such a threat?” Leigh asked, not expecting an answer.
Guero didn’t tell her many details, and she frankly preferred it that way. He took on this role as adeptly as his old one, without any loose strings. He told Leigh what to do and when to do it, and when her services were no longer required, he would wine and dine the actions away. He seemed to fall into this life as easily as she had—but was that the whole truth?
She studied his profile, as sharp and enticing as it had been all those years ago. Just watching him think turned her on, but tonight she felt a growing seed of anxiety.
Leigh took a deep breath, turning her attention to the scene before her. It was a massive hacienda—all beige stucco and elaborate gardens, designed to both impress and conceal. The entrance to the party had a metal detector that looked fresh off the assembly line. Burly guards stood on either side of the device, ushering party guests through. From the bulkiness of their suit jackets, Leigh assumed they were armed.
There were no metal detectors in the old days. What was Cancún coming to?
Pulling the car to a halt, Guero exited and moved for the passenger door. Leigh accepted his hand, smiling as she rose from the vehicle. Looking down to see if her bathing suit covered all the right places, she made several adjustments. As she glanced up at Guero, he leaned forward, as if to kiss her. Stopping himself, he winked before closing the door behind her.
“No tip, señorita?”
“A purse doesn’t really go with this outfit,” Leigh responded with a wink. “You’re sure there’s something inside for me?” she asked in a low voice.
“Behind the painting on the way to his office, just like we discussed. Why are you nervous?”
“Screw you,” Leigh said in a sing-song voice. She started toward the line for the metal detector.
“That can also be arranged,” Guero said, controlling his laughter as he got into his car, revved the engine, and drove off.