by Krista Lakes
Her forehead came to rest on the curve of his shoulder. Her breaths were hard and fast. Every once in a while she would still shudder slightly.
“I've never...” she gasped. She raised her head, and their eyes met. “I've never had one that good.”
“Just wait for what comes next,” he promised. He loved the way her pupils dilated, and another shiver rippled through her body.
“Oh boy.”
He grinned at the way she said it. She sounded almost reverent.
He kissed her again, taking his time. He figured they had all the time in the world.
Which was a mistake.
The radio on the jet-ski started to squawk. “Jet-ski One, Jet-ski One, come in.”
She pulled away, her eyes going to the beached jet-ski. “Should we get that?”
“Just ignore it,” he told her, pulling her back into him.
“Jet-ski one, jet-ski one, come in,” the radio continued to screech. “Cassie, are you there?”
Upon hearing her name, her eyes lost the bedroom look, and her body went rigid. The post-orgasm relaxation disappeared entirely. Wyatt shot daggers from his eyes at the radio.
“I need to answer that,” she said, rolling away from him. She grabbed her swim top before going to the jet-ski radio. She put it on before she answered as if the person on the other side would be able to see her nakedness.
She fumbled with the radio for a moment but quickly figured it out. “This is Cassie. Over.”
“Are you okay?” a female voice asked over the radio.
“Yeah,” Cassie replied. “Janessa?”
“The jet-ski guy said you went off almost two hours ago. You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, and it's not like you to be late. I was half afraid you were dead. You sure you're okay?”
Cassie scrunched up her face and looked down at her watch. Her eyes went wide. “Wow. I lost track of time. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. I'll tell the jet-ski guy,” the radio crackled. “Hurry back. There's a couple that wants to rent it.”
Wyatt looked down at his own watch. He couldn't believe so much time had passed. They must have spent more time talking than he'd thought. Which never happened. It was always physical with the women he brought here. Yet, he'd spent the majority of his time with Cassie just enjoying her company. Learning about her. It had felt like no time at all. And now all he wanted was more. One taste of her was not enough.
She walked across the beach to him and picked up her shirt. She shook the sand out and slid it over her body, hiding her glorious curves from him. His body ached with need for release. He half wanted just to grab her and take her right there on the beach.
But he didn't. Instead, he stood up and gathered up their drinks and the unused towel.
“I'm sorry,” she said as he opened up the storage area and put everything away.
He looked over at her to see remorse on her face. The responsible part of her was warring with the fun-loving side of her. It was clear the responsible side was winning. He had a feeling the responsible side had a lot more practice.
“It's okay,” he told her. “Rain check?”
“Yes, please.” The grin that blossomed onto her face made his knees go a little weak, and once again he considered just tackling her into the sand and making her his.
She helped him push the jet-ski around and into the shallow water before the two of them got back on and started the engine. She looked back wistfully at the spot on the beach with the sandy imprints of their bodies and sighed.
Wyatt took the direct route home rather than the fun-filled zig-zag one he'd made to the island. Cassie had her cheek pressed into his back, her arms wrapped around him. They didn't say much, which was fine as it was hard to talk over the roar of the engine.
He slowed down as they approached the dock and she pulled away from him. He missed her gentle warmth against his back. He let the engine sputter and die at the pier.
He got off first and offered her his hand. She took it with a smile, their eyes meeting. Her dismount from the jet-ski was much more graceful than her climb on. No one even came close to falling into the water.
“Do you work tonight?” she asked, standing close to him. She didn't let go of his hand.
“Yes. But, I'd love to see you after.”
“I might have a couple of drinks,” she said. “You know, bachelorette party and all. You aren't going to turn me down again, are you?”
The ache in his pants made that a big no. “Room seven-thirty-two.”
She grinned wide and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. This time, it was sweet. Her tongue caressed his for only a second before she pulled back with a grin.
“I'm going to hold you to it,” she told him, taking a step down the dock.
“I certainly hope you do.” He grinned at her.
She did an adorable little happy wiggle before turning and heading down the dock. Her friend from earlier appeared and motioned to her. The other woman looked down the dock and gave him an appraising look before the two of them left.
He let out a long sigh. He missed her kisses already. He wished his shift was already over so that he could find her and finish what they'd started on the beach. Although, he had a feeling that even if they had finished on the beach, he would still want her just as much.
She just had that effect on him.
Chapter Eight
Wyatt
The jet-ski guy was not pleased with Wyatt for being so late. Luckily, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little bit of money and a promise to never do it again. It was a false promise, and they both knew it. Wyatt always did it again.
Wyatt headed back down the path through the pool area toward the employee locker room. There, he would change into his dark polo shirt and khaki slacks work outfit and head to the bar for his upcoming shift.
His phone chirped in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message from his boss.
Scheduling change. See the front desk.
Wyatt groaned. Scheduling changes were never good. It usually meant he had to change to the pool bar. He liked working at the tiki bar or the lobby. He didn't like working the pool bar nearly as much because all his tips came back wet. He didn't need the tips, but carrying wet money around was never pleasant.
He veered from his course, changing direction to head to the front desk rather than the employee area. He cut through one of the hotel's lush gardens and walked quickly past pools filled with relaxing guests. A couple of women peeked over dark sunglasses and smiled at him.
Wyatt just kept walking. Any other day, he would have stopped and winked. Today, his thoughts were on Cassie. The way her dark hair caught the sunlight. The slight flush her cheeks took when she was excited.
He hoped to see her excited again soon.
The front lobby was empty. Wyatt walked up to the main desk and looked around, not seeing any employees. He frowned, checked his watch, and looked around again. The workers were probably helping a guest. He peered over the desk, looking for a note about his scheduling change.
That's when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. This was how a rabbit felt when a hawk circled overhead.
“They're getting me some champagne,” a woman's voice said from behind him.
Wyatt slowly turned to see an attractive woman lick her lips at him. She was too perfect to be real. Her boobs were too big, her waist too narrow, her nose too perfect, and her hair too big. She was beautiful in a plastic kind of way. It made him appreciate Cassie's natural beauty even more.
“Ah,” he said, glancing at his watch again.
The woman took a step closer. “The chocolate covered strawberries are already up in my room.”
Wyatt swallowed hard. “That's nice.”
The woman ran a finger down his chest. “That's a great shirt. You must work out,” she murmured, sidling in close to him. She bit her lower lip and looked up at him through fake eyelashes.
Wyatt took a s
tep back.
“Ma'am, I just work here.” Usually, he called customers “miss” rather than “ma'am.” The older women appreciated the gesture that he thought they were younger than they were. Here, he used ma'am intentionally.
“Oh, don't ma'am me. You can call me Lorna. And you definitely don't look like you work here. Not with that shirt,” Lorna replied, fluttering her eyelashes. She flattened her palm against his chest and started to head south. She grinned at him like she was about to give him a tremendous gift.
He grabbed her wrist as she passed his naval. “Ma'am, this is inappropriate. I work here,” he repeated, gently pulling her hand from his waist.
Where was that front desk staff?
Lorna giggled, throaty and sexual. “I'm supposed to go to a stupid bachelorette party, but for you...” She ran her eyes up and down his body and grinned. “Want to go up to my room and have some of that champagne?”
“Ma'am, I have to work,” Wyatt told her firmly, taking a step away from her. She looked like a cat hunting a mouse. Him moving away was just part of the challenge.
“Wyatt? What are you doing here?”
Wyatt turned to see Annette come up to the desk. She was an older woman that worked the front desk during the week instead of going into retirement. She liked Wyatt, and he was glad she was the one working the front desk. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman.
“There was a schedule change,” he said, grateful that there was now a witness to this guest pawing at him.
“I don't have anything up here,” Annette said, looking around. “James is in the break room, though.”
“He was supposed to leave me a scheduling change,” Wyatt replied. He took three quick steps away from the feral woman next to him. “There's nothing up here?”
Annette rummaged around the desk as Wyatt attempted to put a little more space between the overly-sexual guest and himself.
“Huh. You really do work here. The shirt threw me. I thought it was designer,” the woman said, looking over his shirt. She pouted her overly puffed-up lips. “Darn. That's no fun.”
She crossed her arms and walked off, shaking her hips with every step.
“What did you say to her?” Annette asked, watching the woman saunter away.
“I told her no,” Wyatt replied, straightening out his shirt.
“She doesn't look like she gets told that very often,” Annette said. “Be careful with that one. She's trouble.”
“Trouble?” Wyatt asked.
“She's one of those problem guests,” Annette told him. “She insisted she had champagne ordered and paid for, but there was no record or receipt of it. She threw a big hissy fit about it, threatening to tell my manager and write up a bad review. She wanted me to just give up and give her free champagne to make her happy.”
“Did you give her the champagne?” Wyatt asked.
“Nope. Why do you think she was so eager to walk off? I came back without the bottle,” Annette replied with a proud grin. “She's worse than my two-year-old grandson. I don't give into him either, and he's much cuter.”
Wyatt chuckled and glanced at the door as if the woman might return and try to capture him again.
“I'm going to go find James before I'm late,” Wyatt told Annette. “If you see that lady again, do not give her my number.”
Annette chuckled. “No problem. Have a good shift!”
Wyatt waved and hurried to the break room. He was going to have to run so he wouldn't be tardy for his shift. It wouldn't be his fault, but James would still make him pay for it. James loved to use his power over his employees as much as possible. James didn't know who Wyatt actually was and that was a good thing. The man was petty enough as it was. He seemed to enjoy making Wyatt's life difficult.
If James knew that Wyatt was a billionaire, the man would either make Wyatt's schedule far too easy in order to suck up to Wyatt, or too hard to make Wyatt pay for working when he didn't have to. Neither sounded pleasant. It was better just to keep it a secret as he did with everyone.
Wyatt hurried into the break room. It wasn't much of a room, just a couple of couches and an ancient cracked TV, but it was away from guests. James sat on the couch watching a rerun of an old game show when Wyatt walked in.
“What are you doing here?” James asked in crisp Queen's English. “You're going to be late.”
“I don't know where I'm supposed to be,” Wyatt replied, doing his best to keep a calm voice. Lorna had definitely rattled him. “There wasn't anything at the front desk about the schedule change.”
James sighed. “Miranda called in sick. You're taking her spot,” James told him. His eyes went back to the TV.
“And what was Miranda supposed to be doing?” Wyatt asked. He couldn't believe this man was a manager some days. If this were his company, James wouldn't be a manager. Not with this kind of attitude.
He had a feeling that Cassie would be much better. Everything about Cassie was better.
“Private party at the Oceanside Bar,” James said, his eyes on the TV. “You're the private bartender for a bachelorette party. Don't be late.”
“Bachelorette party?” Hope sprang up in Wyatt's chest.
“Yes. Get going.” James glanced over at him. “And nice shirt. Looks expensive.”
Wyatt glanced down at his shirt and realized it was one of his good ones. No wonder Lorna hadn't believed he was a lowly hotel employee. He was wearing a shirt that cost more than a hotel worker made in a week. He had wanted to look good for Cassie, so he'd worn one of his nicer shirts. Unfortunately, it was one of his shirts from his billionaire days.
Lorna had seen that shirt and thought he had money. That was why she'd come onto him so hard. It used to happen all the time when he was known as the billionaire playboy. Women used to hear the name Wyatt Landers, of Land, Inc., and suddenly give him all their attention.
It was something that he didn't miss from his old life. Being targeted for his wealth had always made him question every relationship in his life. Until he came to the islands, he wasn't sure who was his friend and who was his money's friend.
Life as a bartender was so much simpler. So much more fun.
James was already back into his TV show and didn't see Wyatt grin and hurry to the locker room area to quickly change before heading to the bar.
Was he going to be the bartender for Cassie's party? He hoped so. That would make his night so much better. It wouldn't be work if it were with her. He couldn't wipe the goofy smile off his face as he stripped and changed into his hotel approved khaki slacks and a black polo.
He couldn't wait to see Cassie. Just thinking of her put a smile on his face. He put his nice shirt in the locker and wondered for a moment what Cassie would think if she knew who he really was. Would she be interested in his money? Or him?
Would he want her if she was interested in his money? He loved that she liked him just the way he was. She didn't look at him like a meal ticket. She looked at him like a person.
He'd never even asked himself if he wanted to tell a woman before. Every guest he'd been with had been a quick vacation fling. There was no way he would ever reveal his true nature to those women. Yet, he was thinking about it with Cassie.
Wyatt shook his head and slammed the locker shut. He was getting ahead of himself. They'd just met and had a great afternoon on the beach. That didn't mean they were ready to get married and share a bank account.
However, he hoped they were ready to share a drink because, with a little bit of luck, he was going to be her bartender for the evening.
Chapter Nine
Cassie
“Not bad,” Brianna said, looking around the bar. “Not bad at all.”
Cassie had to agree. The Oceanside bar was nice. They had a private table off to the side of the room with the bar to themselves. There was a window with seating looking out over the ocean and a small dance floor off to the side. It wasn't much, but it would be a fun place to dance later. There was a karaoke machine as well,
but Cassie was hoping they didn't bring it out tonight.
“I wish we could have gotten the private table at the Platinum Club, but they were all booked,” Janessa said, looking around with just a hint of disappointment. “This will work though. This will be fun.”
“Damn straight,” Brianna replied. “We're going to have a blast.”
Cassie nodded in agreement, raising her glass of water to clink with Janessa's fruity cocktail. It was then that Brianna crowned Janessa with a crown made of penises.
“Is it 'penises' or 'pensisi'? Or maybe 'penii'?” Janessa wondered, sipping on her second drink. She had a straw and was sucking it down. “Like octopus and octopi.”
“Penises,” Cassie replied, putting a hot pink sash over Janessa's head. “Definitely penises.”
Janessa nodded and took another sip of her drink. She adjusted her crown, giggling as she touched the erect penis in the center.
“Speaking of pensisisis,” Janessa stumbled over the word. “You are positively glowing, Cassie.”
“Am I?” Cassie tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew why she was glowing. It was because she'd had the best orgasm in her life just a mere hour ago.
“It's that guy,” Brianna said, a big grin filling her face. “The bartender.”
“You did look glow-y coming off the jet-ski, but I thought it was just sunshine and sea air.” Janessa stepped closer to Cassie, squinting her eyes and peering hard. “You got some. On a jet-ski?”
“Spill,” Brianna advised. “Before everyone else gets here. Otherwise, you'll have to tell the whole crowd. I'm sure Katy would love to hear all about this.”
Cassie wrinkled her nose at both her friends, but she knew they would be relentless. Better to get it out now.
“He took me on a jet-ski out to a private island,” she told them. “We made out.”
