Today she had an urge to pump some iron and run like hell on the treadmill, so she slipped on some running shorts, Nikes and a sport bra. With her long hair swept up into a claw-clip, she quietly slipped from the suite. Jager had not only paid to get the key between their rooms, but he’d apparently flashed enough money to reserve that same room next door for his entire stay. Whatever. She’d figure things out, she would, goshdamn it.
Out in the breezeway corridor, she glanced at his closed door, but evidently he hadn’t heard her leave. She heaved a sigh. She’d duped him this time.
Excited and feeling triumphant and free, she made her way down the stairs and edged around the courtyard to the gym, remaining in the shade, out of sight. Palm trees lined the walk, their fronds swishing overhead in the gentle breeze. Anjelee caught the scent of Jamaican wildflowers and ixora mixed with the lingering fruity smell of coconut oil from the nearby prude pool. She slid her room key in the gym-door slot until it beeped. She entered the huge, well-equipped room and took a deep, pleasurable breath when the cool air conditioning and the stirring of air from the overhead ceiling fans brushed her perspiring skin. With a grin, she was pleased to find she was the only one in the entire fitness room. Jamaican reggae music blared over the speakers while the scent of bleach, rubber mats, iron and faint sweat filled the space around her.
She plucked a towel from a shelf near the door, crossed to the treadmill and grabbed the TV remote. Humming to the overhead music, she chose to leave the tunes on and set the television to a rock video channel with the volume muted. She tossed the towel over the machine’s U-shaped railing and punched buttons. The treadmill motor hummed to life and the belt moved beneath her feet in a slow warm-up walk.
Lost in the exhilaration of blood rushing faster in her system and her body tingling to life, she watched a bleach-blonde, near-naked woman bend over and entice a longhaired rocker in the music video. A glimpse of ass beneath the mini-skirt filled the screen. Even as the treadmill picked up speed and her breathing kept pace, Anjelee’s libido awakened at the overt sexual aura. In her depraved mind, the woman became Anjelee, the man Jager. When yet another rocker emerged, peering at the couple through the keyhole of a door, she imagined it to be Keefer. Having him walk in on them days ago had been the most shocking, confusing and yet exciting thing she’d ever experienced in her life—well, except for that awesome sex she and Keefer had engaged in while Jager watched. On the one hand, she’d been mortified when Keefer had caught them in the suite, and she’d longed to bury her head in the sand. But way over on the tip of the fingers on the other hand, her pussy had moistened further and she’d let her imagination run wild as hell by including Keefer in the picture.
She grinned. And that picture was starting to come to life quite nicely.
“Whew,” she mumbled under her ragged breathing, and shook her head to clear the wanton images. Mmm, yes, images reminiscent of the arousing things she’d witnessed in Kabana between Mitch Wulfrum, his wife, Kiona, and their “husband”, Nakolo.
Ah, to be meat between Keefer and Jager in that same way…
But arousing or not, this entire situation was all starting to wear on her. While Keefer’s confession had completed the puzzle of him and ratcheted up her attraction to him, his proposed plan for the two of them to seduce Jager—not only for mutual sexual fun, but to infect Jager, so to speak, with a bit of amnesia regarding the blackmail situation—was fast becoming trash-bin material in her mind. She bit her bottom lip and stared unseeing at the video. Actually, she couldn’t make up her mind and kept digging it back out of the trash. It was odd, really. Prior to witnessing the movie star’s hot romp in Kabana, along with Keefer’s new revelation and the turn in their relationship, Anjelee would have been repulsed by the concept of two men together. But wow, seeing is believing, not to mention wildly arousing.
She picked up the jogging pace. Her pulse rate spiked on the treadmill’s screen. Oh, yeah, throw a woman into the mix, and then the men touching and even making love to each other the way Mitch and Nakolo had. It was hotter than hell and tempting as all get-out
But chances were Anjelee would chicken out. Should chicken out. As tantalizing as it sounded in theory, to actually do it was flipping nuts.
She punched a button and increased the rate to a sprint.
Yep, rather than taking chances, she just needed to get as far from Jager as possible. He’d have her behind bars for sure before Wulfrum buckled and transferred the money to her offshore account. But distancing herself from Jager proved tough. Keefer had had several incidences with clients who’d had issues with the resort’s office, so he couldn’t always be there to shield her from Jager’s “surveillance”. Therefore, avoidance was the route she’d ultimately chosen to deal with her dilemma, and Keefer, though he still wanted them to seduce Jager, would go along with what she decided.
At the moment, Keefer was meeting with the front office manager to iron out some current problems and plan for the next trip he’d chaperone with another group of clients. So Anjelee was on her own for the moment, and that was a dangerous situation to be in, given her indecisive stance on what to do about Jager.
The treadmill hummed louder. She sped up her pace. Her feet slapped on the runner and sweat dribbled down her spine. Mmm, what heaven that would be to have two men giving her…
Nah. It was definitely hot, but ridiculous. It really was. It just wasn’t going to happen to Anjelee for three obvious reasons.
For one, given Keefer’s confession and the fact that it had changed things drastically between them, it would probably continue to be like yanking ingrown toenails to get Keefer to notice her instead of men, even though he’d already made love to her and admitted to his true feelings for her…because those feelings also included another man in the picture for him to be fulfilled. So she might as well cross him out of the equation at the get-go since she’d later decided she couldn’t go through with it.
Two, Jager wasn’t her type, nor she his. Too preppy, total opposite of biker-dude Keefer, and not the kind of man who’d go for an impulsive, non-traditional woman such as herself. Nope, including Jager in her naughty little fantasies would never happen, despite his sexy voyeurism on the beach and that one bizarre encounter they’d had in her room. Scorching encounter. Uh-uh, accidental encounter, more like. No way he’d ever have gone for her if they hadn’t been literally thrown together…and if he hadn’t been later mesmerized by watching her and Keefer have monkey sex under the sun.
But number three stood out as the most prominent reason a three-way with Keefer and Jager seemed impossible: Jager was determined to see her behind bars.
Dang it, what a shame that he was her number one enemy at the moment, because despite them being incompatible, the guy sure got her juices flowing like a freaking volcano eruption. Huh, and strangely, knowing she didn’t have all the right parts to satisfy him, made her hornier and hotter than hell. Her center tingled even as she jogged. The man-on-man issue plaguing both men really spiced the scenario up for her, something she never would have guessed about herself before her trip to Kabana.
She imagined Keefer and Jager together in a tub just like she’d seen Mitch and his man, with Mitch’s new wife right there watching. Mmm…
Takes one to spot one.
“Oh, gawd.” She snatched the towel and blotted her perspiring face. “What a mess.”
“A mess? Oh, yeah. You’re in a hell of a pickle.”
She shrieked. How could that be? His voice echoed so close behind her, and yet she still jogged on the treadmill. She glanced down and saw that Jager’s feet were planted on the stationary side rails on either side of the belt just behind her. Her gaze jerked up to see that his hands now gripped the rails, caging her in.
“Get away from me.” She started to stumble but grabbed the machine’s bar just in time. One hand slapped the back of his for support while the other threw the towel aside.
He reached around and yanked the emergency rope. The mach
ine came to a gradual whirring stop. “How can I?” His nose probed her ear from behind. She heard him inhale over the sound of Shaggy on the overhead speaker rapping about banging on the floor. “I think you look more scrumptious in sweaty clothes than you do in the nude getting screwed by Keefer. Besides, I adore the smell of your fear. It’s hard to resist.”
She whirled around and leaned her back over the treadmill’s paused computer screen in order to put some distance between them. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” His eyes glittered, more gray than hazel at the moment. They probed her with adept precision and callous intent. They held her hostage just as his arms and big body were.
Her hands went up to ward him off when he leaned closer, offering her a whiff of his enticing cologne. Holy crapsake alive, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The heat from his smooth, hard chest permeated her trembling palms. “Following me.”
Ironically, on the overhead, Shaggy sang, “It wasn’t me.”
Jager shrugged and grinned. “Can’t help it. Your hot little ass makes me pant like a virgin schoolboy. And seeing you getting totally, thoroughly ravished by a muscle-packed guy, well, it makes me hungry as a starved dog.”
“Huh, a rabid wolf, more like,” she retorted on a snort and shoved him without success.
He set his feet on the belt and stepped closer. His gaze zeroed in on her lips. “Mm-hm, a hungry wolf sounds more like it.”
“Jager, no, I—“
He swooped down and covered her mouth with his. The flavor of spiced rum, and some other ingredient she couldn’t place, burst in her mouth. His tongue slipped warm and silky between her teeth. It swirled and explored her mouth like that rabid wolf she’d accused him of. But he’d been wrong on one count. This was no virgin schoolboy. Despite his other penchant for men, Jager knew his way around a woman’s body. He molded her hips to his, and ground his cock against her enflamed pussy. While his mouth pummeled hers with devastating, enticing prowess, his hands worked their magic, tangling in her hair and gliding into the back of her shorts to knead her sweaty ass.
Eh, the hell with it.
She surrendered and groaned into the kiss, sliding her hands up and over his collarbones. Her fingers grazed through the short hair at the back of his head, and when he broke free of the kiss to trail a hot, suckling path down her jaw and neck, she dug her fingertips into his skull and tipped her head back to hold him there in the crook of her neck against the screaming protests of her mind. The thought of receiving a hickey like some horny teenaged girl incensed some recklessness in her that couldn’t be squelched. Her breasts smashed into him, the nipples like flames of fire grazing the wall of his chest and ribs. Each suck he took of her neck sent a waterfall of hot liquid plunging through her system and pooling deep inside her cunt.
She growled and clutched his wide shoulders so she could rub her damp crotch over his clothed shaft. “Yes, oh, yes.”
“Hold on.” He breathed hard and guided her hands to clutch the railing.
Then he moved lower. He raised her shirt, bared her engorged breasts and squatted in front of her as if to worship her. He cupped and lifted each side with warm, moist hands. His mouth moved from one to the other as if he couldn’t decide which one to devour first. And devour he definitely did. His slick, wet tongue circled her areolas. It alternated from one to the other, nipping, sucking, pulling with his teeth. Tingly firestorms seemed to melt her nipples and dribble to her core, and she imagined his tongue to be the campfire, her breasts the sweet marshmallows he roasted and ate greedily.
With each suckle and flick of his tongue, her head fell further back until she nearly lay supine on the treadmill’s computer screen. “Mmm, feels good, feels so good.”
“You just wait.” He dropped to his knees and slowly dragged her shorts down to her ankles, His hot gaze scanned every cell of her bared flesh like a laser, while cool air fanned her damp, now exposed pussy. His big hands caged her ribs and then grazed down to her hips. The painful pleasure of teeth nips ran a path back and forth over her shuddering abs. He dipped his tongue in her navel and kissed her belly ring before indulging in one long, devastating downward lick that settled just above the piercing in the hood over her clit. Anjelee gasped at the pleasurable assault. Though he hadn’t fully touched her nub, the quick little licks of the jewelry sent tremors of pleasure pulsating to her center.
“Jager…”
His eyes looked glazed when they inspected the length of her body and finally latched onto her gaze. “I can’t help myself, you little thief. Just look at you. You’re naughty, gorgeous, so fucking different from any woman I’ve ever made love to. Damn it, I’ve gotta taste you. I know I shouldn’t, but… Hell with it.”
His tongue emerged, long, pink, and glistening wet. He pushed lower, across her piercing and through her folds. One hand forced her legs further apart. He dipped deeper inside her, tongue-spearing her pussy, while he flicked his thumb over her jeweled clit hood.
“Oh… Ahhh,” was all she could articulate.
The dual sensation of firm penetration and slick warmth deep between her thighs, coupled with the hard dance of his fingertip, rocked her body and made her eyes cross. Relentless heat flooded her center. She gripped the railings and closed her eyes, her body quaking helplessly against his whiskered face.
His tongue moved upward and replaced his finger. “Mmm.” The groan vibrated his lips and increased the almost unbearable desire raging in her core. He eased one finger inside her. She moaned at the bliss of it, but the moan soon escalated into a scream when he picked up the pace of his tongue on her clit and added to the girth by penetrating her canal with three long, talented fingers.
Somewhere in the far-off distance, she heard the beep of a room key sliding into the door. But holy moly, how could she stop him now? Ripples of the coming orgasm were beginning to rise in her womb. She was just about to embrace that first swell when he got to his feet and lifted her into his arms.
“What—? What are you doing?” She could barely talk, let alone breathe. His long, clothed hard-on rubbed against her hip with each step he took. In the vague peripheral distance near the door, she heard whispers, but nothing, not even her dangling shorts falling off her foot and onto the floor, could drag her attention away from the magnetic look in Jager’s eyes. An animal look that said she was about to get conquered, now, this very moment in the gym, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Hell, she didn’t want to stop it.
If Keefer were here, he wouldn’t allow it to be halted anyway. This was exactly what he wanted, to entice Jager, singly, together, whatever it took, until they were a committed threesome and Jager was forced to let her off the legal hook.
Jager stumbled to a flat weight bench and set her on her knees on the floor facing it. A mirror covered the wall just to her left. As if she watched a movie play out in the reflection, she studied his flexing muscles as he shoved his shorts down and kicked them aside. His magnificent cock sprang free, making her mouth water and her pussy clench.
“Getting inside you, that’s what I’m doing,” he growled. “Right now, here. You’re beautiful, too damned irresistible. If I have to witness one more couple screwing on the beach or in the hot tub, and then see you and Keefer naked and sexy as hell right alongside them, and all without being able to touch you both, I’m going to go insane.”
Keefer? Touch us both? Aw crap, she was a goner for sure now. To not only have evaded to his penchant for men and women days ago in their suite, but for Jager to now straight-out admit they both turned him on? Well, that raised it all to a whole new level. Oh, yeah. Game’s on again. There’s no stopping it now despite the fact he could single-handedly see her locked behind bars.
He shoved her upper body forward and draped her over the vinyl weight bench before kneeling behind her. His hands repositioned her hips and drew them back closer to him. The tip of his cock probed her drenched cunt, and there was nothing Anjelee could do to prevent i
t or change her mind at this point. She wanted it just as much as Jager did, and she knew that Keefer would want it even more than the two of them together. Her pussy was on fire at the jumbled thoughts of the two men, and she needed relief now. She wanted Jager to make love to her as Keefer had yesterday. She wanted it here, right now, just as Jager said, even with the audience of strangers she sensed were here in the room with them.
Her gaze moved across the gym to find an attractive brunette couple near the door watching them. One of the man’s hands slid up his partner’s skimpy shirt and fondled her large breasts. He held Anjelee’s stare while his other hand moved down into the woman’s workout shorts. Her long-lidded, aroused gaze latched onto Anjelee before she probed the man’s shorts and located his massive bulge behind her ass.
What a wicked resort this was. Bombarded at every turn with overt sex could wear a person’s restraint down and devastate their libido. Anjelee had endured far more than her healthy appetite could withstand since arriving here a week ago. She reached behind herself and spread her buttocks apart. Her eyes never left the couple, the woman now on her knees giving the man a vigorous blowjob.
“Do it now. Slide inside me. Make me come,” she begged, her voice a husky, almost pathetic whisper.
Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) Page 6
