He slam-dunked the bag onto the bed causing his cock to bounce and another toy to come to life. His hand snaked out so fast, she had no time to react or even catch her breath. He closed his fingers around her elbow and yanked her into his arms.
“Are you too much of a dunce to realize, first of all, that you’re the big-ass cauldron calling the cup black? And second of all, that we’re in another country with different laws? But wait,” he added theatrically, his handsome face scrunching into the most intimidating snarl she’d ever seen. “I’d mostly like you to open door number three and see what the hell kind of answer we find behind it. And drum roll, please... Uh…door number three says… ‘Are you too dim-witted to comprehend just how much fucking legal trouble you’re in?’”
His sudden, uncivilized, caveman move had had her smacking her hands onto his burly shoulders to steady herself. She now stilled her wriggling and took a quick mental inventory of body parts. God Almighty, one certain body part fought to get to the forefront of her awareness. His shaft speared her lower belly, and his tight balls pressed like two giant, silk-covered marbles against her swollen labia. The scent of his rich-man’s cologne wafted all around her in a cloud of seduction she couldn’t resist inhaling. He was much taller than she was, and she just realized the macho, aggressive move had lifted her off her feet so that his panting, open mouth hovered a mere four inches above hers. She had her head tipped back and her eyes glued to his. All she could hear was the sound of their pissed-off breaths and the lap and rush of the surf on the beach outside the open patio door.
She had never in her entire adult life been in such a tempting position, while at the same time suffering so much boiling anger in her blood, that she couldn’t think straight. The combination of it proved sexually potent and yet maddening all at once, so much so that it seemed she found herself at a loss as to what to do with a man for the first time in forever…not counting Keefer, that is.
Yeah, Keefer was another puzzle to unravel.
But prior to meeting this particular confounding, arrogant a-hole in Hawaii weeks ago, she’d been there done that, in almost every facet of her thirty-one years. Since then, it seemed she’d faced unfamiliar, exasperating issues, and she hadn’t been the same since. She’d fallen off a roof and nearly broken her neck and knee in Kabana, Hawaii, when taking some damning gay pictures of Jager’s client, movie star Mitch Wulfrum. She’d, as Jager liked to think, blackmailed the celebrity with Jager as the communication link, something she never would have had the balls to do if it wasn’t for Ali’s condition. And now she’d run off to Jamaica to hide until the funds transfer of her second round of supposed extortion was complete, and all after promising Jager that the star’s sexuality secrets would go to her grave with her.
Now it appeared Jager was set on digging her grave himself.
Well, dumbass, you should have known.
He wasn’t going to let her get away with what he perceived as extortion against his precious client a second time, and it looked like she hadn’t covered her tracks well enough. Damn it.
“Put me down.” She squirmed, drawing in an embarrassing, involuntary moan of pleasure when he hitched her higher and the head of his cock settled at her damp vagina beneath the sarong wrap. Why in hell hadn’t she at least thrown her swimsuit bottoms on after leaving the pool?
His pupils dilated in reluctant, lusty response. A muscle along his jaw ticked as he held her captive in the erotic position. “No.”
“I said put me down.”
“And I said no. Not until you promise me you’ll drop your little extortionist plot, turn over every copy of the pictures that you promised didn’t exist anymore, and go the hell away. Mitch Wulfrum can’t afford this. In fact, he can’t afford to pay you the amount you’re demanding—for the second time, and even after you’d signed that legally binding document stating you’d never do it again.”
She writhed and twisted, but the brute’s strength way outweighed hers. “Bull. He can afford a lot more, and you know it.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to the money. His finances are none of your business, and his money isn’t yours for the taking.” He let out a rush of breath through clamped teeth, the warm puff of it fanning her cheek. “Damn, woman, has anyone ever told you you’re the most irksome, annoying, stubborn, lying woman that ever walked this earth?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most arrogant, mean, idiotic prick that ever walked this earth?”
“Say it.” He shook her, making the pierced hood of her pussy grind against his stomach. “Promise me you’ll drop this ridiculous blackmail scheme and disappear.”
“I’m not going away.” Anjelee wiggled against his hold again, but the creep was just too damn strong for her. Jolts of fire shot through her clit. “I have to have the money. Besides, it’s mine. Ours, Ali’s.”
“Yours? Are you crazy? You’re making no sense. And who the hell’s ‘our’ and ‘Ali’?”
She squealed and ignored that last question. “You’re the crazy one, following me all the way down here and breaking into my room. Now. Let. Me. Go.”
Twisting with all of her strength, she finally managed to loosen his arms a bit. He tried to hike her up higher, but the move caused her to slide down his body instead. A strangled groan erupted from her throat when the head of his shaft accidentally—or was it an accident?—gained entry one fraction of an inch inside her pussy. Fireworks ignited in her loins, and she easily imagined one of those Fourth of July Roman candles shooting upward through her bloodstream and bursting into colorful frissons, illuminating her shocked, horny face.
Jager drilled her with a narrowed stare and bit through an involuntary moan of his own. It was only when her damn traitorous cunt clenched and spilled a flood of warm cream around the tip of his cock that Jager cursed under his breath and slammed his mouth onto hers.
Well, crap. Forget the puny fireworks.
This was more like a dozen frigging sticks of dynamite exploding. The swift surge of lust detonated in her system so fast, there was no way to stop the fiery momentum. She slapped her palms on his cheeks, cradled his faintly whiskered face and devoured his mouth as if she’d been starved for years. He returned the kiss. His tongue dipped firm and wet into her mouth while he growled some sexy, beastly noise. She chased his tongue with hers, letting out a cat’s mewl, tasting the remnants of peanuts and beer. Their mouths vibrated with their animal noises, just like the toys on the bed.
Mmm, toys. She clamped her legs around his hips and pushed downward until he slid another half an inch inside her. “The bed—the vibrators. Gotta have you, have it all, now,” she mumbled against his mouth.
His hands were all over her. They raced up and down her back, pinched and kneaded her bare ass beneath the sarong. Then his hold on her turned to magic and he pulled out, guided her hips in a circular motion and laved the head of his stiff rod with her sticky juices.
“Mmm-mmm,” was all he said, over and over, in a rough tone that seemed to rumble from his chest.
She couldn’t agree more with him. Her pussy throbbed with the urge to be completely filled, right up to her throat. There was no doubt as soon as he slammed her down on him, she’d come all over him. Yet she knew it would only be the start. So she rocked her hips up and down and tried to get him back inside her, but he held her up, now rubbing his cock around her sensitive piercing.
She threw back her head and released a long, torturous groan. “My God, I didn’t think it would be like this. It can’t be like this. Oh, what the hell, just do it, just give it to me.”
“Uh-uh,” he said on a pant.
“Never heard the word.” She ignored his denial and wound her arms tighter around his neck. The attempt to angle her hips higher so she could just spear herself, sent them off-kilter. Jager stumbled forward and lost his balance. They went airborne for one brief moment, but the bed, thank goodness, broke their fall. When her back hit the mattress and Jager’s weight came down on he
r, his shaft halfway penetrated her soaked vagina.
Ahh, yes.
They both stilled their movements and stared wide-eyed at one another. But even with just partial invasion, he was so big, Anjelee could feel the orgasm start to take hold. She arched her back and drew in a ragged breath. She fought to tilt her hips upward and take all of him inside her, but the weight of his big body held her lower half pinned to the bed. Determined to have more, she thrashed and bucked relentlessly beneath him. Her hands were in his thick, soft hair, grasping at anything, yanking him down so she could devour his tasty mouth again.
“Kiss me,” she demanded. “Please, suck the life outta me, fill me all the way up.”
“Anjelee, this can’t happen,” he whispered against her lips. Yet he covered her mouth with his and fed her hunger with an uncontrolled passion that made her even more ravenous, more crazy than a bitch in heat. Then the first, almost indiscernible ripple set off deep inside her, promising of much more to come.
“What the fuck...?”
At the deep, male voice, Anjelee tore her lips from Jager’s and screeched. She whipped her head around to find Keefer standing in the open doorway. Her orgasm pulled back just out of reach.
Damn it all to Hades and back.
Jager swore under his breath, yanked himself from inside her and leaped to his feet at the bedside. “Who the hell’s he?”
Shit. She groaned. “Heya, Keefer.”
Out went the last licking flames of the inferno.
Chapter Three
Keefer’s bare feet came to a screeching halt on the threshold. One hand still gripped the knob, the other he held up with her abandoned flip-flops and bikini thong hooked over two fingers. He couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes. Anjelee’s beautiful face was scrunched up in obvious disappointment, and her lips were swollen from the handsome stranger’s all-out feast.
Goddamn it, Keefer should have been the one to have her first. The reality that he’d let the opportunity get by him numerous times before now, only made the hurt of it sting that much more. Instant hatred for this man ate at Keefer’s gut like acid. Apparently, he’d scored with her in a little over ten minutes, while Keefer had had years to do the same, but hadn’t. Half of him blamed himself, but the other half knew it was easier to take out his frustrations on both Anjelee and her new lover.
“Ah, well that’s nice. I figured maybe with all those naked men parading around at the pool, you might have gotten yourself some amnesia,” Keefer replied with such venom in his voice, it surprised even him. “But at least you do remember my name after all.”
She shoved the man away and dragged herself off the bed, her nipples as hard as little pebbles and her shaven pussy glistening with her come—or was it this asshole’s ejaculate coating her sex?
Defiant and surly as usual, Anjelee planted her fists on her hips over the askew sarong and replied, “Um, excuse me to all flipping hell, but everybody here at the resort’s naked. And of course I remember your name, you idiot, you’re my best friend who—”
The man cut in with a grumbly tone. “Do I have to repeat myself, goddamn it? Who the hell is this guy?” As if he had every right to know who’d interrupted his hot and heavy tryst with Anjelee—Keefer’s Anjelee. And both of them in Keefer’s room.
Keefer took in the strong jaw and narrowed, hazel eyes. Shit if it didn’t make his heart go all fucking fluttery. He’d definitely noticed the man when he’d first strolled onto the pool deck earlier in casual dress, as if he’d just come from the golf course. But another couple had distracted Keefer with a conversation about bisexual and gay men being “thank God” rare at the resort, as they’d put it. Then the last he’d seen of both Anjelee and the stranger with the hands-down hottest male ass Keefer’d ever had the pleasure of visually devouring, was when the man had chased after her shortly following the game of naked Twister.
Heh, they must have gotten to work awfully quick to already’ve been screwing by the time Keefer’d climbed from the pool, dried off and made his way to the suite.
“I think I’m the one who should be asking that question. So who the hell are you?” Keefer’s gaze moved down over the fit, muscular torso and toned legs, and finally settled on the most obvious elephant in the room.
Holy mother fucker, he’s got a hard-on. A very impressive, nice hard-on at that.
Ignoring the tingling in his groin, Keefer stepped into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. He flung her shoes and suit aside and tried like hell to drag his stare away from that bulging cock glazed with Anjelee’s juices. But his idiotic eyes just wouldn’t cooperate. His pulse throbbed in his head, the rhythm picking up with every angry, confused second that passed. He was so goddamn pissed off at finding Anjelee here in their hotel room in another man’s arms, yet he knew he had no right to even so much as flip the guy off. Keefer was aware Anjelee had the hots for him, yet he’d continued to play dumb. But what the fuck was a guy to do when he couldn’t make his mind up between men and women, and more so, when he couldn’t tell the woman he loved that he couldn’t tie himself to a female-only relationship with her because he needed a man in his bed, too?
Ha, knowing her, she’d laugh him right off the planet, hurl some scathing gay slur at him and never speak to him again. And Keefer knew he could never live without her in his life, no matter what capacity of togetherness they settled on.
No, hiding his secret from her was the best thing for them both.
Anjelee whipped off the sarong, located her skimpy little robe and jammed her arms into the sleeves. She belted it with jerky movements and sailed across the room until she stood toe-to-toe with Keefer. Her areolas perked against the satiny fabric, practically screaming, “Look at me, touch me, taste me!” He could smell the tantalizing female aroma of her cream, but coupled with that, he got a vague whiff of clean, male sweat and rich aftershave. His cock twitched and a second flood of heat spilled into his groin.
“You have no right to demand to know who he is.” She rose on tiptoe and leaned toward him, her eyes spitting green fire at him. “And you know it.”
“Sure I have a right. The dude’s in my room,” Keefer pointed out. “Screwing you on my bed, no less.”
“Ooh!” She stomped her bare foot on the tiled floor. “Your room? Well, I’m staying here, too, if you haven’t forgotten.”
He noted she didn’t refute the screwing part of his assertion. “Have you forgotten? I paid for it—or rather, my travel-agency company did. You came along for the ride. A freebie, remember?”
“Doesn’t surprise me one bit,” the intruder mumbled.
Anjelee sent the man one of her famous scathing looks. “Shut up, Jager.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, which isn’t very often,” Anjelee said, turning her attention back to Keefer, “but didn’t you beg me to come along because the resort would give your group of twenty-nine an extra twenty-five dollars per person daily discount if you booked a minimum of thirty people?”
Keefer sighed. Yeah, she had him there, but that didn’t negate the fact that he’d reimbursed her for her portion after she’d booked her flight and hotel. He’d claim the all-inclusive room and food portion as a write-off on his year-end business taxes, which wasn’t much to begin with anyway. The resort had drastically reduced his rate for bringing the large group here in the first place, but that had been offset by paying for her trip. Still, she didn’t have to know that. Shit, he couldn’t fess up any of it, not with some debt she’d been trying to help her mother pay off recently. As pissed as he was, he could never throw that back in her face. He didn’t have all the details, and she never volunteered just what was up with her family, but he’d known in his gut she’d needed his help.
“Yeah, you’re correct. I did beg you to come along.” Keefer glanced at the stud standing there with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “But that doesn’t give you the right to mess around with some…strange man in the room we’re sharing.”
“You�
��re sharing a room with him?” The guy plopped onto the bed, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. He let his hands dangle between his legs partially hiding that impressive package from Keefer. “And you just pleaded with me to ‘suck the life outta’ you?”
“Suck the life out of you?” Keefer echoed.
Anjelee shot an ugly, tongue-twisted face at the man, apparently for letting the lioness out of the bag. The spiteful gesture briefly revealed the sterling-silver stud piercing in her tongue. It had always had Keefer fantasizing about what the hard little ball might feel like stroking up and down and around his cock. Now was no exception. The visual of it played out in his head like it had hundreds of times before… Anjelee would be on her knees at his feet, her big green eyes staring up at him with sensual fire, her small hand wrapped around the base of his thickness, that studded tongue wreaking maddening havoc on the head of Keefer’s twitching cock.
And a hot man like this one would be holding him from behind, playing with his ass.
Christ, help me.
She riveted her glittering gaze back to Keefer. The man’s accusation returned, snuffing out Keefer’s pleasant dream. The implication that she’d fawned all over the man and pleaded with him to “suck the life” out of her, all but sliced Keefer’s heart out of his chest.
“Damn right, I begged him to.” Anjelee curled her upper lip. “Why the hell not? I don’t seem to be getting any action from anyone else, especially not you.”
“Geez-us.” The man she’d called Jager shoved a hand through his military-cropped, brownish hair leaving it standing on end. That mussed, all-male bedroom look nearly did Keefer in. “I don’t get it. You’re an attractive couple rooming in the same suite with one king-sized bed, and at a nude resort, no less, and you’re technically sleeping together, but not sleeping-sleeping together?”
Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) Page 3
