He shook the vision from his mind, not caring to explore the sick ambiguities swirling around in his head…and his groin.
Nakolo shifted in his seat, readjusting the tight denim over his erection, and studied her reaction to his spiteful words.
Her eyes blinked in surprise. She knew he rarely spoke with such vehemence and rage. He watched with some sort of sick satisfaction as she backed a few steps away when he revved the engine. “There is an explanation. I swear it. A very good one.”
On a snort, he replied, “Right.”
She wedged a tight fist against the luscious swell of her hip. “Do you want to talk about it or not? I don’t have all day.”
“I don’t either, so goddamn right I want to talk. Can’t wait to hear what you’ll come up with.” He raced the engine again, and it backfired loud enough—hopefully—for the fucking celebrity to hear. He prayed to Kane the guy was peeking out the window right now. Take that, you asshole. “I’ll park the truck at our spot. Meet me there.”
Nakolo didn’t wait for her reply. He backed into Jager’s long, asphalted drive lined with well-manicured landscaping, and sped off, screeching his tires—one last dig for Wulfrum’s benefit.
He shifted into fourth and eased into fifth as the old engine sputtered and rumbled. Maneuvering the winding coast road, he first passed Kiona’s seaside house on his left…within walking distance of Jager’s house.
Nakolo glimpsed the familiar cane fields off to his right in the island’s interior. He edged along cliffs, climbing toward Mount Makakoa, and looked down at the coastal village where he’d grown up. Finally, just beyond that, was the overlook.
Though their tryst location was perched on a gorgeous side of the island with lush vegetation and soaring cliffs, it was north of the inactive Mount Makakoa and therefore beyond the stretch of KPCS’s cane fields. His village was just south of that, so they’d often used it as a safe retreat, as well. Inhabited only by seaside huts and small fishermen flats, the rural community and its nearby overlook were places Heloki would rather die than be seen in.
The pompous bastard.
Nakolo’s muscles tensed once again as his thoughts returned to her betrayal.
How long had she been seeing Mitch Wulfrum? Had she been fucking him during her last mainland business trip? And while here on the island, had she been sneaking along the half-mile stretch of beach between her place and Jager’s, slipping into the posh home and fucking Mitch beneath Nakolo’s very nose?
Nakolo rarely stayed at her house overnight anymore, not since Heloki had discovered their affair, fired Nakolo, and threatened to disown Kiona if she continued to see him. Since Nakolo had been forced to see less of her, Kiona could easily escape up the beach for a midnight rendezvous with Wulfrum without Nakolo ever knowing. She was far more determined, hardheaded, and deceitful than her father realized.
Now she has betrayed me.
His hands curled around the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. “Damn her.” He pounded the horn with his fist. “Damn her!”
And damn that son of bitch, Heloki. No doubt, this was all his fault. He had finally gotten to Kiona and succeeded in brainwashing her into dumping dirt-poor Nakolo for a rich man.
Nakolo breathed in, breathed out. His heart thundered with fury and loathing, but he managed to maneuver the wide curve and turn left onto the gravel overlook. It was a peaceful place—the spot where he had first experienced her all-out passion. Lined by soaring palms and the purple jacaranda they had often made love under, it would always be special to them.
If only Heloki would let it be so.
God, how he hated her father! Heloki’s prejudice against Nakolo’s lack of education, and the fact he’d been screwing the boss’s daughter, had lost Nakolo his good-paying foreman job in KPCS’s cane fields. While still working for Heloki, Nakolo had gone and sacrificed his own financial stability in order to keep the spoiled rich girl in his life. But now it had all been for nothing. It was as clear as the crystal Pacific waters he gazed upon. While he waited for her—always he waited—he knew he had been played for a damn fool. Insatiable, she had taken her pleasures with his body just to amuse herself until something better had come along.
Like a fucking hot nohea celebrity from the mainland.
Hûpô! How can you ever compete?
“That’s just it, you stupid bastard. You can’t. You can get pissed all you want, and in the end, she’ll choose Mitch Wulfrum. What woman in the world wouldn’t? He’s rich, he’s famous, and he has that handsome GQ model face and hard body any woman would die to call her own.”
He dropped his head against the back window and prayed to his Hawaiian god. “Kanaloa almighty, what will I do without her?”
Wallowing in misery, he rolled his head to the right and saw that her car pulled in next to his truck. She had the sunroof retracted, and golden rays slanted down through the open space, bathing her like some breathtaking Polynesian goddess. Her blue-black hair hung loose around her shoulders and down her bare back. Nakolo drew in a breath, recalling with clarity the scent of that glorious mane while burying his face in its thickness.
He bit his lip, welcoming the comforting pain of it. Now Wulfrum will have her, smell her, taste her—shit, fuck her.
She motioned him over, and despite the obvious bulge in his jeans, he eagerly stepped from the truck and strode around to the passenger’s side of her car. He knew she saw the tubular shape in his pants, knew it would turn her on.
And that made it even more difficult to remain pissed at her. Goddamn it.
He yanked open the door and climbed in, settling on the smooth leather seat. The air conditioner blasted around him while the sun warmed his face through the sunroof. Her scent was all around him, her curvy beauty filling the space in the bucket seat to his left. He ignored the swell of one breast half spilling from her halter dress, and averted his gaze from the long length of silky legs stretched out toward the gas pedal.
She slid the gearshift into reverse. “Let’s go before I’m late. We’ll talk on the way.”
“Wait.” He set his hand over hers and shoved the gear back into park. Her fingers stretched out beneath his. She twined them into his, clinging until he could swear his heart melted. The warmth, the softness, the emotion when she squeezed his fingers nearly made him sob. Was this the end? Was she about to kick him to the curb?
Or would he get the nerve to sever their magnetic tie first?
He shifted his gaze from their joined hands to her stunning, heart-shaped face. No matter how many times he looked at her, it always felt like his pulse did some sort of strange flickering, as if everything came to a shocked halt in his system.
“Kol, I’m going to be…”
He leaned over the compartmented console—where he’d just noticed she’d stashed those mysterious papers—and closed his mouth over her blood-red lips. Nectar. She always tasted like the sweetest nectar in all of Hawaii. He drank deeper, sliding his tongue past her teeth to search for her silky tongue. Kol suddenly paused in his assault, trying to place the flavor he detected. Was that gin lurking beneath the usual sweetness of her mouth? Had she indulged in a seductive drink or two with the man?
No!
His arms encircled her possessively, and he yanked her across the cramped space so that she lounged across his lap. He ground his throbbing cock into her hip, branding her as his, reminding her who wanted her, who loved her, who she belonged to. It wouldn’t take long, he knew. It never did with her—hell, how could it? Kiona was the most tempting vixen he had ever had the pleasure of claiming as his.
His, that is, until he had seen her in the arms of another man.
At the resurfacing of his bitter anger, he fought the rigid reflex of his muscles. Instead, he relaxed and slipped a hand into her gaping neckline, palming one heavy mound. She sighed into his mouth, surrendering, wrapping her arms around his neck just as he knew she would. Her pillow-soft lips skated over his in a circular motion, and with a sh
e-cat’s muffled growl, she went in for the rabid kill. He opened wide, fully accepting her as he always did. And always would. Sucking her wet tongue into his mouth, he dueled with it, sword to sword, forcing her into obedience as he delved deeper into her heat.
Her nipple sprang hard and taut against his palm. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching, pulling, until she broke free of the kiss and dropped her head back against the window.
“Ah, Kol, I want you…” She panted, her eyelids fluttering. “But I don’t really have time.”
He released her breast and skimmed his left hand up her smooth leg until he reached her bare hip. No panties. He stiffened, halting his movements. Had she left them behind after offering up her wetness to the movie star?
“Fuck the meeting. You’re the boss. You can be late.”
And the least you can do is give me this one last time with you.
He forced her leg toward the dashboard, opening her for his exploration. Delving higher up under her dress, he found her pearl, hard as a pebble, slick as sin.
His mouth watered at the mental image of her perfect sex; he swallowed hard, starting his assault with a feather-wisp, spherical motion of his finger. She twitched and groaned, and it wasn’t long before her hips began that seductive, stripper-like dance, reaching for more, stroking herself with his digit.
Kol slowly slid two fingers into her. Ah, so warm, so tight. She screamed when he pulled out and spiraled back in to claim her G-spot. He closed his mouth over hers to muffle the cry that carried through the open sunroof and out across the Pacific. He murmured a silent prayer to Pele, the goddess of fire, to give him strength to suppress his own fires until he could taste Kiona’s pussy.
Yes, he thirsted for her as always, but how to get his final fill of her in this cramped little sports car?
Nakolo, the sunroof… It was as if Pele whispered the solution in his ear.
He withdrew his fingers and watched as her eyelids rose, the dark lashes like fans of seduction encircling the glazed whites of her eyes. Disappointment edged her sweet voice, as did the small little panting breaths left behind by the sexual excitement.
“What…why did you stop?”
“Move back to your side.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Just do it.” He guided her back across the console. If he didn’t taste her and get relief soon, he would erupt for Pele, just like the volcano Kilauea.
Kiona forced out a breath and gripped the steering wheel. She pressed her forehead against the back of one hand. “Okay, it’s probably for the best. I really do have to be—”
Nakolo lifted the lever and pushed his seat back so it dropped flat upon the rear bench. He was just under six feet, so it was difficult to move within the cramped space to climb onto the back seat, but with a little stretching and grunting, he managed. While Kiona gawked at him, he leaned forward and across her, located her latch, and flattened her seat as well.
Without a word of explanation, he settled onto the center of the rear seat between the two reclined front seats.
“W-what are you doing?” She remained sitting upright, though the upper portion of her seat no longer supported her back.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
“S-stand up?”
“You heard me. Stand up. Remove your shoes, plant a foot on each seat, and stand up so your top half is through the sunroof…and your juicy cunt is in my face.”
Her mouth fell open and a sound that resembled a wheeze tore from her throat. He watched as she blinked, scanned the inside of the car, and looked up through the sunroof. Nakolo knew the precise moment understanding dawned on her.
She licked her lips and breathed faster. “You’re going to…to eat my pussy while I’m…?” Kiona jammed a hand through her long locks. “Whew. I think I’m going to pass out just picturing it. As always, being with you is exciting and wicked.”
“Honey, you don’t have any idea how excited I am.” He unzipped his pants and let his aching manhood spring free, loving the glaze of desire in her eyes at first sight of it.
“Somehow, I think I do.” She grinned and reached for his cock, but he clamped his hand around her wrist just before she made contact.
“Uh-uh. I’m about to explode as it is. You want to come, you get your beautiful ass up and stand on the seats. Now.”
Her smile faded. For a full thirty seconds, she stared deep into his eyes, her own tearing up. He knew at that moment she finally understood his desperation and intense desire to have her, to reclaim what was his after seeing her with another man.
Kiona twisted, assuring the car remained in park, and removed her shoes. She reached for the sunroof’s edge, pulling herself to a standing position. She was a tall woman and it was a small car, so with her feet placed as wide as she could get them on each front seat, the roof came to waist level.
She set her elbows and forearms on the roof and leaned on them. “I’m ready,” she whispered down to him.
He scooted forward and drew up her dress, stuffing the front hem beneath the garment’s waistband. And there it was, her jewel—his jewel. Nakolo’s mouth watered and his balls throbbed, engorging like a balloon ready to pop.
“Hemolele! Mmm, my love, you are so gorgeous, so—” he swiped his tongue up her slit, eliciting a scream from her, “—delicious.”
The flavor of cream and faint salt burst in his mouth. Holy islands, she was wetter than the sea. He drew back and studied her toned thighs and the top of the “V” they held dear. Except for a small patch of dark curls above her clit, she always kept her pussy shaved for him so he could feel her silky lips upon his tongue or encircling his shaft. The labia were smooth and naturally tanned, her nub pink and swollen, emerging at the top of her cleft like the early bloom of a hibiscus. God, what perfection!
Nakolo couldn’t delay any longer. He wrapped his arms around her hips and reached behind her. Sinking one finger into her dripping-wet puka, he closed his mouth over her swollen bud.
She screamed again, this time far louder. He heard her hands slap the roof, and rejoiced when her voluptuous body spasmed in his arms, against his face. He flicked his tongue over her clitoris while gazing upward through the sunroof. She was like a siren of the sea. He watched as the Pacific winds blew inland tossing her hair in a wild mass, her breasts perky mounds, her face contorted in ecstasy.
Her pelvis did a swiveling dance, abrading over his face. She growled, reaching for that pinnacle that always came so easily for her. Nakolo pumped his finger faster, adding another, then a third. She spread wider, accommodating him, coating his fingers with her stickiness. With his tongue, he thoroughly explored every fold, crease, and little bulge, knowing the time would come very soon when he would have to yank her down into the car and plunge himself into her cunt.
She was almost there, he could tell by the stiffening of her dance and the animal mewls escaping from deep in her throat. But somewhere in the sexual blur of his mind, Nakolo heard the hum of a car engine. He whipped his head around to see a sleek Mercedes pull up behind Kiona’s car.
“Goddamn it,” he swore when he saw none other than Mitch Wulfrum unfold himself from the driver’s seat and stride toward Kiona’s car.
Kiona’s windows were darkly tinted, so most likely Mitch couldn’t see Nakolo. If Mitch had spied Nakolo’s truck back at Jager’s house, he’d probably know Nakolo sat in her car. But if he hadn’t peered out the window at Nakolo’s boyish antics, Mitch wouldn’t know whose truck it was and might assume Kiona was alone and the truck abandoned.
Not knowing one way or the other added an edge of excitement to the unexpected situation. Nakolo’s loins simmered with reluctant fire. Did he want to be discovered or not?
As Mitch approached the driver’s side, Nakolo studied the strikingly handsome face, the tall, lean body…and the bulge in the jeans he now wore. Nakolo swore under his breath. Why was it he found the sight of this man sauntering nearer so very arousing while he orally pleasured
Kiona? Where had his anger gone? And why hadn’t he demanded an explanation from Kiona before he had dived right into satisfying his sexual urges?
“Mitch, what are you—what are you doing here?” he heard her choke out.
The whole bizarre situation Nakolo suddenly found himself in did strange things to his libido. Hot liquid fire whooshed into his bloodstream, the flames of it licking at his cock like an incredible blowjob. He felt Kiona start to lower herself down, but something reckless drove him to hold her in place and force her to remain standing while he went back to work on her dripping cavern.
With his cock now as hard as stone, he slid his fingers back inside her and went wild on her clit. As if a demon rode him, he let his sidelong gaze fall upon the mass in Mitch’s pants. Kol licked and sucked, his eyes locked on Mitch through the darkened glass.
Son of a bitch, what had gotten into him? Was he actually turned on by this man’s interest in his woman…and by the man himself?
“You forgot these.”
Nakolo heard the jingle of what sounded like keys, and the plunk of it on the roof. But he was so aroused he didn’t care to explore why Mitch Wulfrum gave his Kiona a set of keys.
Kiona let out a strangled reply when Kol rammed his fingers in deeper and swirled his tongue faster. “T-thanks. I-I’ll talk to you—oh, God! ’Û!” She reached down and cupped one hand on the back of Nakolo’s head, pressing him closer, grinding her stickiness all over his face.
Nakolo drank and slurped, drawing in her musky, heady scent. He did his best to pleasure her so that he could feel her body and her drenched pussy shudder while his rival watched.
There, take that. See if you can do any better, Mr. Goddamn Fucking Wulfrum.
He listened intently, waiting for her suppressed orgasm as she struggled to hide from Wulfrum what Nakolo did to her.
Nakolo had to admit he’d never experienced anything quite so wicked in his entire twenty-nine years. His gaze remained on Wulfrum, studying the swelling bulge, wondering what it might feel like to…
Kabana Heat Page 4
