Christmas, Caribbean Style

by Kit Tunstall

  "Good Lord, Laurel. Couldn't you have worn your hair down just once? It's always in that bun." Sarah shook her head. "We're in the Caribbean, you know."

  Laurel quirked a brow at her exuberant roommate and best friend. "Yeah, I know. I saved for three years. You don't need to tell me I'm on the trip of a lifetime."

  "Then act like it." She turned her dark-brown eyes on a group of young men playing volleyball on the beach, less than one hundred feet from their perch at the outdoor bar. "Turquoise water as far as the eye can see, pristine white beaches, and fine young men in Speedos." She waved at one of the men when he flexed for her. "That is a fine piece of sexual chocolate," she whispered out the side of her mouth. "I think I'll see what it would take to melt him down and lick him all up."

  Laurel giggled and ended up choking on her mouthful of 150-proof Caribbean rum and eggnog. "Careful, Sarah. He might be jailbait."

  Her friend sniffed. "I'm only thirty-one, honey, and the laws down here are different."

  "Okay." She smiled at her friend, wondering where this side of Sarah came from. During their four-year friendship, she'd come to believe Sarah was as levelheaded and practical as she was herself.

  Sarah stood up from her barstool and dropped a five on the counter. "You'll be okay?"

  Laurel shrugged. "I'm twenty-seven and not likely to fall into mischief."

  "God forbid," Sarah said mockingly, but there was a hint of teasing in her eyes. "Wish me luck. It's been too long since I got laid."

  "Good luck." She watched Sarah walk away, admiring the cut of her red bikini. With Sarah's dark skin and ebony hair, the bikini did nothing but accentuate the positive. If she tried wearing it-assuming she could muster the nerve to wear two triangles and a string as swimwear-it would wash out her already pale complexion and ashen-blonde hair.

  "Not into the kiddie set, huh?"

  Laurel's head whipped around, and she met the eyes of the man speaking to her. His tanned skin was dark brown, matching his dark eyes and brown hair. He wore a short Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to the navel, and thrown over a pair of sapphire-blue Speedo briefs. "Uh, no," she managed to force out.

  He grinned at her, and his straight, white teeth were a heavenly contrast to his dark skin. "I admire a woman who's looking for a real man."

  She cleared her throat and dropped her green eyes from his sensual gaze. She fanned herself discreetly with her hand, wondering if it had suddenly heated up, or if it was just the sexual intensity in his gaze that had sweat streaming down the back of her light-blue one-piece.

  "Can I get you one?"

  She blinked. "Excuse me?"

  His gaze slowly moved to the nearly empty eggnog on a napkin in front of her.

  "Another Caribbean eggnog, miss?"

  Hot color swept up her cheeks at the misunderstanding. Her eyes narrowed on the tilt of his lips, making her wonder if it hadn't been a deliberate innuendo. She was inclined to think it was, and she enjoyed it. It had been too long since a man flirted with her.

  "No, thanks. I'm not much of a drinker."

  "Are you finished with that?"

  She nodded, and he lifted the glass. He deliberately brushed his hand against hers, and she gasped at the contact. It had been more than three years since she'd had a lover, and she tried to assure herself any man would elicit the same reaction. Still, her stomach clenched when he rubbed the side of her hand with his pinkie.

  "I'm Morgan," he said abruptly, as he whisked the glass out of sight.

  She licked her lips. "Laurel James."

  "Well, Laurel, you look like you're in desperate need of a palm reading."

  Her brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

  He picked up her hand. "I dabble, you see."

  She resisted the urge to tug away her hand, compelled to do so more from her reaction to his touch than from a sense of impropriety at him stroking her palm so intimately with his index finger. "I don't believe in that kind of thing."

  "Hmm." He leaned over her hand, carefully studying it. He traced lines across her palm, and made a thoughtful sound. "Interesting."

  "What is?"

  "I see you're dying to learn how to make a Mai Tai."

  She giggled. "Oh, really?"

  "Absolutely." He flashed her another charming grin. "Would I lie to you?"

  She studied him thoughtfully. "I'll reserve judgment."

  He affected a wounded look. "I'm cut to the core, Laurel." He waved a hand. "However, being the magnanimous gentleman I am, I'll overlook your slight and still teach you how to make a Mai Tai."

  She eyed the bar, noticing how packed it was. As soon as someone left, another person took their seat. Already, a fifty-something man, evidently trying to pretend he was still young, was perched on Sarah's stool, avidly listening to their conversation. "I don't think your boss would like you doing that, with all these customers."

  He nodded, looking morose. "That's why I'll wait here at closing time, which is one A.M. You'll come back, and I'll introduce you to the world of bartending."

  She hesitated, torn between common sense and impulse. She nibbled on her lip and sized him up with her eyes. She couldn't resist focusing on the bulge in his Speedo, and she briefly wondered how it would feel to have his cock inside her pussy.

  She tore her gaze from his cock and met his eyes hastily. He wore a mischievous grin. He must know exactly where her thoughts were. It would be madness to come back, with him knowing she was interested in him. "Okay," she surprised herself by saying.

  "Terrific. I'll see you tonight." He caressed her palm with his fingers, squeezed her hand gently, and let it go.

  "Tonight," she echoed as she stumbled off the stool. She fumbled for money from the tiny clutch around her neck and dropped a ten on the wicker counter. As she hurried away, she knew she wouldn't show up. She wanted an adventure on her vacation, but she wasn't into casual sex. With her problems with Marcus, that's all a relationship with Morgan could be.

  She couldn't do it. There was too much at stake to screw up.

  As she made her way across the smooth sand that kept seeping into her white sandals, Laurel was still telling herself meeting Morgan was a bad idea. A cool breeze blew off the ocean and up the skirt of her white sundress, caressing her freshly shaved pussy. She hadn't bothered with underwear.

  Her mouth was dry as she approached the Center Sun bar stand. To her mingled dismay and relief, Morgan was still waiting for her. He was lying across the counter, with his head propped on his hand. When he saw her coming, he dropped off the counter and onto the sand.

  "You're late." He didn't sound annoyed, exactly. It was more as if he was making a statement of fact.

  She nodded. "I wasn't going to come."

  He grinned. "I think you will."

  She swallowed at the blunt statement and stopped walking. They were only a couple of inches apart. She looked at the deserted beach. "So, no one's here, huh?"

  He shook his head. "They're all off in dark corners, making love to strangers."

  She refused to blush. At her age, it was a ridiculous reaction. "Probably," she agreed casually. She knew Sarah was being entertained in the room of her young stud.

  "So, let's get to it."

  Her eyes widened. "Just like that? We aren't going to talk first?"

  He stepped forward and took her hand. "We'll talk while we're doing it."

  She choked. "Um, I'm not very vocal."

  He grinned. "The blender won't mind."

  Laurel blanched. "What?"

  "It'll mix the Mai Tais either way, sweets."

  She did blush then, and she hoped the half-moon didn't provide enough illumination for him to see it. They were too far from the tiki lamps planted in the sand at each cor
ner of the bar-she hoped.

  He led her around behind the bar. "I took the liberty of laying out all the ingredients while I waited for you to show up."

  "How long would you have waited?"

  Morgan shrugged. "A few more minutes, and then I would have bribed a bellboy for your room key."

  She tossed her hair. "You have no idea where I'm staying."

  "Please," he scoffed. "You're staying at Holiday House Caicos Islands. Sean's place."

  Her eyes widened. "How do you know?"

  "I'm psychic." He grinned at her skeptical look. "Nah, there was a piece of the hotel's stationary with the five-dollars your roommate left. She had scribbled her room number on it for one of the other bartenders." He bent closer to whisper in her ear, "If she's still interested, tell her the 'blond Adonis' is Scott."

  "I'll tell her." Before their trip, she would have assumed Sarah wouldn't be interested if she was already with someone, but she didn't know after today.

  There was an assortment of bottles lined neatly on the counter, and he lifted a bottle filled with clear liquid. "So, back to the Mai Tais. What we have here is light rum, the most essential ingredient." He tipped the bottle into the blender and let it pour for a few seconds. "You get a feel for how much you need, but it's usually about two tablespoons per Mai Tai."

  "Okay." She wondered if she should be taking notes, but she didn't really care how one made a Mai Tai. This experience had the feel of foreplay, not education. "What else?"

  He took half a lime and held it over the blender. "A tablespoon of lime juice. You can use the concentrate crap, but I prefer fresh."

  She nodded. "Of course." She watched as he ruthlessly squeezed the juice, and she had an image of him squeezing her buttocks so firmly. Her pussy tingled at the thought.

  He took a knife and cut a chunk of pineapple from a fresh one. "Two tablespoons of pineapple juice too." When he had wrung all the juice from it, he tossed the fruit into the trash before lifting another bottle. "Triple sec comes next."

  "Two tablespoons?" she ventured to guess.

  "That's right." He returned the bottle to the counter and lifted a smaller one. "This is almond flavoring. Most people use one tablespoon, but I like two."

  She nodded, pretending to be engrossed. In reality, she was enjoying the sight of his firm hands busying themselves. She could easily imagine them busily working their way over her body.

  He lifted a small bottle of red liquid. "We add a teaspoon of grenadine, though you can use cherry liqueur if you want the added kick." He lifted a bowl of white powder. "Add some powdered sugar, then ice." He took a scoop from the bin built into the counter and added it to the blender. Morgan put on the lid and hit the on button. The blender began to mix their drinks.

  "How long do you blend it?" she asked in a loud voice, to carry over the blending noises.

  "Until it's mixed," he said. About thirty seconds later, he shut off the blender and removed the lid. He poured the mixture into two large glasses. "We garnish with a pineapple wedge, silly umbrella, and a cherry." He handed her one. "Voila, Mai Tais."

  She took the red drink and started to sip it.

  "Hold on. We need a toast." He lifted his glass.

  She followed suit, holding it poised against his.

  "What shall we drink to?"

  Laurel couldn't blame the drinks for what came from her mouth, because she hadn't even sipped it yet. "How about a fabulous fuck with a stranger?"

  Morgan's dark eyes widened, and he seemed at a temporary loss for words. He cleared his throat and soon regained his composure. "To a heavenly experience," he agreed, clinking his glass against hers.

  She took a single sip of the Mai Tai. "Yummy." She licked her lips, but her eyes were focused on his cock in the Speedos, not the drink. She set the decorative glass on the counter and stepped toward him.

  He put his glass beside hers and met her halfway. His arms were solid as they enveloped her. His lips were firm against hers when they met in a passionate kiss. He tasted like pineapple and rum, and she licked his lips. Her nipples hardened under the thin cotton of the dress, and she pressed herself closer to his bare chest. She could feel his hair against her sensitive nipples, though the fabric dimmed the sensation too much.

  "You're wearing too many clothes," he growled as he lifted his head.

  "So are you. Sarah's away tonight. Let's go to my room and…"

  "Here."

  Laurel's eyes widened. "You want to have sex here?"

  He nodded. "Why not? No one's around."

  She started to offer all kinds of reasons why that wouldn't be appropriate, but her train of thought was broken when he unbuttoned the single button fastening his shirt and pushed it off. His chest rippled with muscles, and his abs were clearly defined. She couldn't have conjured a more perfect fuck in her most depraved fantasies-and she'd had more than a handful of those the past few years.

  His hands moved to the tie at the back of her neck. He loosened it with one movement, and the bodice fell around her waist, displaying her bare breasts. He tsked his tongue. "You've been sunbathing in your suit. Breasts that perfect should be as brown as the rest of you."

  She thrust out her chest; no longer concerned a stranger might see them. "Do you like them?"

  He nodded. "Absolutely. How could I not? Each one is large and firm, with dusky areoles. I want to taste them."

  Laurel tipped back her head, giving into the heady sensation of being a temptress. "Go ahead."

  With a groan, Morgan pulled her closer to him and lifted her. He spun around to place her on the counter so her breasts were level with his mouth. She parted her legs and sighed as the breeze brushed against her pussy. She couldn't wait to have his fingers do the same thing.

  She buried her fingers in his hair as he took one nipple into his mouth. His arms were around her waist, and his hands cupped her buttocks. She shifted impatiently, until he squeezed her ass while he flicked his tongue across her nipple. Her pussy flooded with heat, and she gyrated her hips.

  Morgan's teeth grazed her nipple, and then he bit more forcefully.

  She moaned at the tug of pleasure/pain and pressed his face closer to her breasts. Her pussy cried out for attention, and she moved aside her skirt to finger herself while he laved her nipple.

  As Morgan switched his attention to her other breast, Laurel leaned back farther and positioned her hand to better reach her pussy. Her clit was slippery under her fingers, and she bit down hard on her lip as she rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. His tongue began keeping time with her strokes, and her body became a mass of sensation.

  She uttered a jumbled protest when he pulled away. Her pussy ached to be filled, and her nipples, wet with his saliva, puckered into tighter buds as the Caribbean breeze caressed them. It almost hurt.

  "Let's get off the rest of these clothes," he said.

  She nodded and helped him by elevating her bottom as he slid the skirt up to her hips. She raised her arms when he pulled the dress over her head, and then she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his Speedos. Her fingers flirted with his hard cock, and she could feel the moisture collecting at the tip when she pushed her finger deeper inside his swimsuit.

  Morgan moaned, but he stood passively.

  Laurel slid off the counter and stood before him. She plunged one hand into his tight Speedos, made even tighter by how swollen his cock had become. She teased the corona of his cock as she fastened her mouth around one of his nipples. She bit down gently, and his body jerked.

  She moved her other hand from the front of his Speedos to the back and stripped them to below his ass cheeks. She pushed the front down with the hand she'd had around his cock, until his full glory was revealed.

  With one more less-than-gentle nip on her way down, she knelt in the sand. His cock was near her mouth when she was on her knees. She extended her neck so she could take the full length of his cock into her mouth. Rather than doing so, she teased him instead, by feathering ligh
t kisses across the head and shaft.

  "Damn, Laurel," he said with a moan.

  She flicked her tongue across the tip of his cock, tasting his fluid. He had a faintly sweet flavor that suggested pineapples. She licked him again, before she grasped the base and put her mouth around his cock.

  He moaned again as his cock disappeared into her wet mouth. His hand tangled itself in her blonde hair, and he stripped away the pins she used to confine it. It spilled around her shoulders and down her back in a silvery wave in the moonlight.

  Laurel began sucking gently on his cock, but slowly, she increased the pressure from her mouth. She could feel his cock throb with each beat of his heart, and she knew he was close to exploding.