by Shey Stahl
Hours pass, and just as we’re all standing around, joking, Liam walks in with two men, the same ones he had been with on Friday night when I first met him.
“Aren’t you on vacation here, beautiful? Why are they making you work?” he asks me, deep chocolate brown eyes boring into mine.
I hesitate to answer at first, moving around the bar to take a seat. I don’t want Jake getting in trouble with me being back there.
“They were just showing me a few drinks.” I glance away from Liam and to Jake, who downs a shot behind the bar, glaring at Liam. Usually he doesn’t drink behind the bar until closer to closing. Now he’s making no attempt to hide it.
Jake’s stance seems uncomfortable, his eyes flickering from mine to Liam’s, and I really don’t notice until I realize how close Liam is to me. He’s practically touching my legs with his. But my stare’s drawn to Jake and the nameless emotion in his sky blue eyes.
Jake nods to Liam, the muscles in his jaw working in tension. “What do you want, man?” Is Jake jealous? That’s it. That’s the emotion I couldn’t decipher. It’s laced in his words when he barks out, “Order a drink or leave.”
Liam and his friends order a round of shots and then another, all the while flirting with me.
And in that time, Jake downs a beer and then another, and chases it with a shot of bourdon. “Leave, man,” he finally says to them, taking notice in the way I shift uncomfortably away from their proximity.
“What?” Liam’s clearly caught off guard by him.
Jake’s jaw flexes, his eyebrows raised as a harsh smile appears. “You heard me.” There’s absolutely no humor to his words. “Leave.”
Liam snorts, obviously disgusted with Jake’s unprofessional demeanor toward him. “Is that any way to treat a man who could buy this shithole?”
“Try me, Liam, go ahead.” Placing both his hands on the bar, Jake leans toward the guy, his fingers gripping the edges of the worn wood. “You’d best get out before I show you what the floor tastes like in this shithole.” And then Jake looks at me, slowly, watching my reaction.
“Seriously?” Liam asks, glancing to his friends like it’s some kind of sick joke going on.
“Fuckin’ right, I’m serious.” Jake points toward the door. “Get out.” Liam doesn’t move and goes to say something, but Jake stops him by holding up his hand. “I’d watch what you say to me right now.”
Reluctantly, Liam leaves, and I stare at Jake, wondering what’s wrong with him. Why would he tell a paying customer to leave all of a sudden? Surely his dad wouldn’t be pleased about this. “Do you have anger issues?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugs, rummaging around the bar as he begins to clean up for the night. “I hate these fuckin’ douchebags who come into this bar and try taking home girls they got no business even talking to, let alone taking home.” He pauses, lifting his eyes to mine. “My day off is Thursday. You wanna see how the locals party? Or do you want to just sit in a bar your entire vacation?”
“I did go helmet diving and went to a private beach,” I point out, walking with him as we leave the bar, the same walk as our previous night’s together. “So I wouldn’t say I just sit in a bar.”
“That’s true. You definitely don’t do any sitting when you’re back at your hotel, do you?”
“Unless I’m sitting on your cock.” I laugh softly, watching my toes sink into white sand, the smell of Jack Daniel’s invading my senses when Jake moves closer. “Then no, not much sitting happens back in my room.” I laugh again when his nose tickles the curve of my neck.
“Goddamn you’re dirty. I fucking love it,” he growls, scrapping his spiky jaw over my shoulder, his lips following suit. “Say cock again.”
Shivers rush through me, and I laugh. “Only if you promise to put out.”
“Gladly.” Hit bites the skin over my collarbone. “Say you’ll come with me on Thursday.” His voice sends tingles between my legs, anticipation building. I can’t wait to get him back to the hotel.
“I’ll come with you.”
Dipping his hands lower, he cups the cheeks of my ass, squeezes, and then turns me around so he can walk behind me, my body pressing against his every contour and hardness. “And come for me….” His hand works from my breast, moving lower. Sliding down my thigh, he flips my dress up and then plunges his hand between my legs. I stop walking for fear I’m about to fall.
I know what he’s about to do and stop him again. “I’m not doing it on the beach, Jake.”
“Someday you will.”
Knowing the way Jake can get me to do just about anything, I might.
2 parts Tommy Bahama Golden Sun® rum
2 parts pineapple juice
1 part fresh orange juice
1 part Coco Lopez®
Mix all ingredients over ice in a hurricane glass. Garnish with an orchid.
When I wake up, it’s no surprise Jake’s gone. He likes to fuck, but apparently not spend the night.
Rylee’s in my room though, eating blueberry pancakes on my balcony. Sitting up in bed, I glance over to the nightstand to see what time it is and notice a note from Jake.
I smile, a full-on cheesy smile that makes me think, Why the hell am I smiling this much?
Wrapping my robe around me, I make my way out to the balcony. “Where’s lover boy?” I ask Rylee, stepping out into the harsh sunlight of the midafternoon. I take my sunglasses out there with me to hide the light. I’m living an alcohol-infused night these days, and the unforgiving sun isn’t nice to me.
“I should ask you the same thing,” Rylee replies, sending her fork my way with a bite of pancakes on it.
Opening wide, I take it, chewing slowly and savoring the sweetness. It’s so fucking good too. Like blueberries, and it’s heaven with a hint of lemon zest. “He left this morning, I assume. He’s never here when I wake up.”
“Oh, so kind of like my vacation.” Rylee sets down her fork and passes the plate to me. “You can have the rest.”
I stare at them, but I don’t take another bite. “What’s the matter?”
“Fucking Wesley has been a complete prick this week. Every day we’ve been fighting, and he spends all his time in the casino while I’m in the spa or shopping by myself.” She groans. “And where have you been, besides living the lover boy dream?”
“I’m sorry.” I had no idea she felt that way. I’ve been trying to give them space to be together. Never did I think she was alone all this time. “Do you want to hang out today? We can do whatever you want.”
Smiling, she stands. “Good. Let’s go shopping.” And then she sits back down and reaches for her half-eaten pancakes. “Those are too delicious to waste.”
“Go ahead. I’m not in a hurry.” And I’m not.
“You’re so…” Rylee stops and cocks her head at me.
I wave her off, feeling defeated. “I know. I’m hideous. In love with a fucking island boy.” I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Am I in love with him? That can’t be. It’s impossible to fall in love that quickly. I don’t know anything about him, other than he works at a bar, owns a house, street bike, and a jet ski. He doesn’t like to talk about his past, hates frat boys and can make any drink imaginable. Okay, I guess I know quite a bit, but still… I can’t be in love. At best, I’m infatuated with him.
Rylee grins at me. “I was going to say different. I’ve never seen this side of you. It’s good. Fits you.”
My smile gives me away, and I grin wider. “I even rode on the back of a street bike. How’s that for wild and crazy?”
Rylee gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “I might cry at how grown up you are. Next thing you know, you’re going to be having sex in the sand.”
“Whoa. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I do have boundaries.”
That afternoon Rylee and I go shopping. I find the perfect dress to wear to go out with Jake, a loose-fitting cream-colored little number that hangs off my left shoulder. I might add, it goes great with my n
ewly tanned skin.
Rylee helps me do my hair and makeup, and when we’re done, I look freaking amazing. We even teased my hair and gave it that beach look, perfect for the island atmosphere.
Just before I’m heading down to the lobby, I wonder if I should wear something different, considering Jake will be taking me on his street bike. The new Kendall wouldn’t worry about things like that though.
Jake picks me up late, twenty minutes late to be exact, but I don’t freak out. I keep my cool, but I do voice my opinion. “You’re late,” I say when he arrives, his eyes on my dress.
“And you’re sexy.”
He looks good too, cleaned up from the usual shorts and T-shirt he wears at the bar. Now he’s wearing jeans, Puma tennis shoes, and a dark gray polo shirt with the top few buttons undone. He’s fucking sexy as hell, and I decide to ignore his tardiness based on his appearance.
It’s a short drive into Nassau, the wind does a number on my hair, but yet oddly adding to the beach look I had been going for. And my dress actually stays clean too, so it’s a win for me so far.
“You gotta be careful ’round here,” Jake says as we walk through downtown Nassau in a part of town I remember that taxi driver referring to as being crime-ridden.
My grip on Jake never lets up. I know what big cities are like, but Nassau is different. A well-developed city, during the day, Nassau is filled with friendly, laid-back people. When night blankets the city, it’s quite a bit different.
“Crime is really bad here,” Jake notes, moving around crowds of people gathered on the streets.
“What kind of crime?” I try to keep step with him, but it’s hard in heels.
“Rape, murder, you name it. That shit happens here, and nobody is ever held accountable. You kill someone, and tomorrow you could be walking the streets again.”
“Whoa.” It makes me sick to think people can get away with that shit. “Have you ever been in trouble? I mean, you live here. Do you see that stuff happening?”
Jake nods, his jaw clenching when he says, “I was robbed at gunpoint two blocks up when I was twenty-one.”
My throat tightens, a lump rising in fear. “And you still come down here?”
He shrugs, like usual, blowing it off. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You can’t live your life in fear of what could happen, or has happened.”
“I think maybe your mom might have dropped you on your head when you were a baby.”
Another careless shrug. “I’m sure she did. She’s clumsy as fuck.”
Hand in hand, we walk past a group of men. They whistle and make some comments, but Jake keeps his head down and continues walking, his grip on my hand tight. Men and half naked women walk the streets, parties on every corner, and Jake informs me the area is flooded with weapons, gangs, and drugs. Makes me feel super safe to be here. Not.
Jake leads me around a dark alley that I’m convinced I’ll die in, and then through a back door to what appears to be a nightclub crawling with hundreds of people.
Appearing completely relaxed the moment we walk inside, it’s clear Jake spends a lot of time here. The club is dark and dingy, sort of like what you’d see in downtown Phoenix, the parts that are rundown. There’s a bar to my right; painted black wood and black concrete floors darken the large room. Strobe lights pulse, as does the music. It thumps wildly in my chest, and I immediately want to dance.
Again, I know I’m using the classic movies as my examples, but this bar, the dancing, it’s totally like a scene out of the movie Dirty Dancing when they lead her to the “members only” section of the resort and her life changes forever, only in the Bahamas and in a bar tucked away in the ghetto of Nassau. I love it.
At the far end of the bar is what looks to be a stage with a DJ and women dancing around. To the left is a band—appearing to be locals—warming up. Surrounding the dance floor is a small half wall separating the bar from the stage.
It’s the kind of club where everyone appears to know one another. It’s a place where tourists stick out like a sore thumb. I stick out. At least, I feel like I do hiding behind Jake.
“Hey, Jay,” a girl says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She hugs him, but he offers nothing in return, his hands never moving from his sides.
He tenses immediately, and I’m thinking she might possibly be the reason he doesn’t like his name shortened. I wonder what their history is together. I want to know all the gory details too.
“I heard my mom saw you the other night.” The woman’s skin glows under the lighting of the bar. She looks to be darker skinned, maybe Puerto Rican or from the Dominican Republic?
“Yeah, she showed up.” Jake nods, never making eye contact with her, and then reaches for my hand, drawing me into him. “Amara, this is Kendall.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand. She’s fucking stunning, and I’m suddenly feeling like I’m too fat, not pretty enough, and I should go tanning. And workout. Less drinking, less tacos… okay, fuck all that. That’s crazy talk.
Amara seems nice. Upbeat, lively, long flowing dark hair that’s layered in the front framing her heart-shaped face, wide brown eyes, and a body only Instagram models have. What has my attention is the way her stare rarely leaves Jake, as if she has let something go and she wants it back.
Tucking me into his side, Jake doesn’t give me a chance to actually say hello to Amara, or ask who she is before he yanks me to the dance floor. “Can city girls dance?” he asks, his eyes low on my hips.
“Guess you’re gonna have to see,” I tease. I glance back over my shoulder at Amara as he ushers me away. Her brow’s scrunched together, more than likely as confused as I am about what just happened.
On the dance floor, Jake wastes no time in showing me he has many talents aside from bartending and fucking. I’ve never danced with a guy who actually knows how to move—until I dance with Jake Pierce, that is.
Most of the guys I’ve danced with did the bounce shuffle. You know what I’m talking about too. It’s a bobbing squat that they repeat over and over again. Sometimes they’ll revise it and add in a nod, or whatever. It’s their only move. And girls, don’t you dare dip it low. They freak the fuck out because they don’t know what to do. Then there are the guys who add in that Eminem crotch grab and their other hand just bobs in the air.
Having said that, I’d like to point out that Jake is none of those dancers.
I’d like to think I have moves too. Guys have it easy when it comes to dancing. Girls, we need moves. It’s our time to sell and give it. And to be honest, I’ve fucking mastered the ghetto booty bounce. Practiced that shit in the shower when I was in college until I had ten stitches in my chin and had the moves down.
Tonight, I show Jake my booty bounce.
Every eye in there is on Jake, but his eyes are only on me. The passion behind them as intense as the heat, heavy and constricting. He moves, I move, knowing and feeling the beat between our bodies. He smells so good, and I can’t get close enough to him. Even with my body welded to his, sweat pouring from the two of us, hands slipping and sweet kissing, I still can’t get close enough. I want to crawl inside him and feel this through him, with a heart and soul capable of being free. His breath is on my neck, sticky, consuming, and giving what I want.
The dance floor is crowded, sweaty bodies grinding against one another in the small space. I can’t even tell you what song is playing either. Jake’s left hand moves from my hip, his other holding a beer. He presses it to my cheek, trapping my face with his stare. I jump at the cool glass bottle, my eyes rolling back at how good it feels against my overly hearted skin.
The island rhythm thumps in my chest, but not as loudly as my heart. Jake’s eyes shine down on mine, watching my every move. Swallowing, he draws in a deep breath and then pulls my face to his. My lips hesitate, then find the taste they so desperately want. Locked in a passionate kiss, we sway slightly, the beat changing, but Jake pours a lot into that kiss. I don’t know if he�
��s trying to reassure me with the intimacy of the kiss, but it’s working for me.
I’m bumped from behind, my teeth knocking into Jake’s, but it doesn’t stop him. He keeps his lips on mine, slowly tracing my mouth with his tongue. Just when I think he’s going to pull back, his hungry lips reclaim mine with a renewed sense of urgency. And every time it leaves me burning and wanting more.
When we aren’t kissing on the dance floor, Jake’s eyes often remain down, watching my hips move against his. It’s so hot in here, he removes his shirt and tosses it on a nearby table.
With space between us for the first time, that’s when I notice Amara has made her way onto the dance floor. Jake doesn’t look at her or even acknowledge her presence beside him. Instead, he moves closer to me, and my hold around his neck tightens. He has one leg between mine and the friction of his jeans rubbing against me is delicious. I’m not even freaked out by the fact that I’m touching his sweaty body and not feeling the need to wipe off the sweat with a nearby napkin.
All this, his touch, his stare, the way his body moves with mine, it’s enough that I forget we’re in a crowded club, letting the blaring bass move us. It’s then, right then, I imagine having sex on a crowded dance floor. We could totally get away with it.
Needing a break from dancing—my fucking legs were burning—Jake and I are at the bar, waiting on drinks. That’s when I spot Liam again.
“Hey, there’s that guy from the bar the other night.” I motion with a nod to Liam.
Jake glances over his shoulder and then immediately turns back to me, glaring. “Stay away from Liam.”
“Why?”
He leans in, resting his elbows on the bar. “He’s just another bent motherfucker overindulging in shit he shouldn’t be.”
“He’s here on vacation. Doesn’t everyone indulge on vacation?” I hope he catches the meaning, but maybe he doesn’t.
