Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat)

by Titania Ladley

  She’d never been so wet in her life. The cream poured out of her and coated Jager’s cock. Sometimes, when she bucked upward violently enough to take him in, her ass slapped both sets of balls and doused them with her creamy come. Keefer’s grunts intermingled with her catlike mewls and Jager’s strangled breaths. Both men glistened with sweat. It dribbled into streams, glossing over skin from Keefer to Jager, and finally bathing her body, slick and sexy with the musky scent of man.

  No, men.

  Jager growled out a long, almost painful orgasm. She supposed the fact that he’d reached the finish line first had to do with the overstimulation of both filling and being filled. His body stiffened, and the warm flood of his ejaculation pulsed inside her. It must have been her catalyst because his hot release squirting and grinding over her g-spot with each thrust brought her to serious orgasm levels. The tingling and racing of blood through her system had her letting out a bloodcurdling scream of pleasure, one that didn’t even come close to describing the ecstasy that coursed out to her toes, fingers and tongue.

  Keefer was the last to relent. He gave one forceful thrust inside Jager, which sent Anjelee over one last crest before she started to come back to earth.

  Keefer collapsed on top of Jager and drawled, “Damn sam, if that wasn’t the most bitchin’ lovemaking ever—in my whole life.”

  Jager eased out of Anjelee and shifted over to her left. “Agreed.”

  Keefer moved to her right, and arms and legs entwined and caressed. “But hell, we got almost another week here. The possibilities for the three of us are endless.”

  Yeah, endless—until we get back to the mainland. Anjelee pinched the spot between her eyebrows where worry lines already bunched. She frowned when Jager’s cell phone buzzed.

  “Aw, crap,” he said. “Guess I should get that.” He rolled out of bed and dug the phone out of his pants pocket.

  “Screw whoever it is. You’re on vacation,” Keefer said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

  “Well, I...” Jager stared at the I.D. on his phone. His eyes were wide, his face pale.

  Anjelee’s stomach suddenly clenched. She hugged the sheet to her chest. “W-what’s wrong?”

  Jager didn’t move, didn’t speak.

  “Jager. What’s wrong?” Anjelee demanded a second time.

  Keefer sat up and reached for a cigarette. “Damn it, dude, answer her. Who is it?”

  Jager gulped. His gaze finally rose and met Keefer’s, then hers.

  No, please, not...

  “It’s...it’s Mitch Wulfrum. I’m sorry. I gotta take this.” Her new lover strode out into the starry night. Something’s not quite right here, really suspicious. Anjelee heard his low tones and indiscernible conversation with the rich man who was determined to see her put in the slammer.

  For life.

  Oh, God, Jesus and all the angels in heaven, please, help me. I think it’s over. I think I’m dead, fried meat.

  ~*~*~*~

  “I’m still...working on things.” Jager leaned against a rocky half-wall at the far end of the veranda and shifted his cell phone to the other ear.

  He could see straight into the suite. Keefer took a drag off his cigarette, blew out a few smoke rings as he put his feet on the floor and plucked a pineapple ring off a bedside tray. Keefer didn’t yet know the complete magnitude of what Anjelee had done in Hawaii, and certainly not since then with her second bribery. Anjelee, on the other hand, knew exactly what this call entailed—if the catatonic expression on her face were any indication.

  Jager couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. He’d come to realize that her tough shell could be easily cracked by backing down on the threats and showing her some respect and true emotion. His chest tightened. He could only imagine what love could do to that cracked shell. Would it break away the fractured exterior and reveal the vulnerable, sweet woman he suspected hid inside her? Or would she cement the pieces back together and bar him from her heart forever?

  “Are you still trailing her?” Mitch asked.

  “Oh, yeah, sure am...”

  Mitch’s voice droned on in his ear as Jager’s gaze followed Anjelee around the room. She glided naked across the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. He waited eagerly for her return. She emerged with her long tresses secured in a haphazard knot on top of her head. Wild strands escaped here and there. Jager’s fingers clenched. He longed to run them through the bright silk and release the fastener.

  He braced himself for the onslaught of desire when she melted into Keefer’s embrace. But the need was doused when he saw her frail shoulders shaking while Keefer stroked her back. Was she crying?

  “Jager, goddamn it, are you listening to me?” Mitch’s annoyed tone broke into Jager’s thoughts. He whirled around with his back to the suite and looked down on the dark, churning sea. He focused on the roar of it, tried to think of anything except Anjelee crying and Keefer comforting her when Jager couldn’t.

  “Yes, yes, I am. Sorry. Now, what were you saying?”

  Mitch growled. “What the hell’s up with you? You seem really distracted.”

  Jager clamped his eyes shut and tried to block out the sound of the rock-and-roll music Keefer must have just dialed up on the room’s sound system. “I’ve had a few cocktails.”

  “Cocktails? When you’re supposed to be watching her?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh, I’m watching her, all right. Watching and obsessing over that tight little rump when I should be spanking it instead. “It’s part of the...game. I can’t just sit around and stare at her, or stalk her like a creep. Security’ll have my ass thrown right off the island.”

  “Okay, okay, I’d have to concede that point. But what about the files? Were you able to get into her room and search her laptop for the pictures, maybe hack into her email accounts and copy the evidence that it was her who sent the anonymous bribe?”

  Laptop. Shit, he’d forgotten about that part. It would be the perfect opportunity, now when they were here instead of in their regular room. They’d left most of their belongings there. But had she even brought her laptop with her to Karibu? And did it matter anymore at this point?

  “I, uh, think I have a good plan to get access to their room,” he lied, but he’d already had access from day one. “Give me time. A few more days and I should have everything secured.”

  “I know you have to be careful, take time to seduce and manipulate her like we’d planned, but hell, Kiona’s been a wreck. If you can wrap it up sooner than later, do it, dude.”

  The phone crackled and cut out—thank God.

  Jager nodded. “Sure. Hey, I think I’m losing you. I’ll let ya go.”

  “All right, keep me posted. And if she so much as sets one toe on the airport tarmac, you better be on that same flight, even if it’s headed to Antarctica. Can’t afford to lose her again.”

  Guilt sat like a ton of steel on his shoulders. He wished he were in Antarctica right about now. Buried fifty feet deep under the damn ice. “Gotcha. Tell Kiona to relax, I’ve got it handled. Talk to you soon.”

  He punched the End button and strode across the patio. They both stood nude behind the bar pouring drinks. Hard rock tunes blared over the outdoor speakers. Anjelee’s tears had dried up. Her eyes were slightly swollen, but it emphasized the bright color of the irises.

  She moved her curvy body to the beat and smiled at him.

  “Everything okay?” Jager asked her.

  “Yep.” She downed a shot of clear liquor and slammed the glass on the bar top. “Had a sappy moment where I was missing my sister and mom, but Keef helped me get over it, so I’m good now, real good. How about you? Anything up in Hawaii?”

  “Um, no. He was just...checking in. But let’s not worry about that and ruin the party. Whatdoya say?”

  She continued to dance. Her smile was vibrant but her eyes were dull. She glanced away. “Sure. No worries.”

  “I...I’m sorry.” Jager reached across the bar. She halte
d her movements when he pinched her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Please. Let’s not let that interfere with the three of us, with tonight. I called the dog off for now.”

  Moisture pooled in one corner of her eye. It glinted off the moonlight when she gave several quick nods. “O-okay. Calling off the dog for now s-sounds...good.”

  “Well that settles it, then.” Keefer poured a shot and slid it across the bar to Jager. “Ding-ding-ding. Time to start round five of the party. Drink up.”

  Jager took the shot, but he didn’t drink it. He let his inspection slide from Keefer’s nakedness to Anjelee’s gorgeous face. “Sure you’re okay?”

  “Of course I am.” She raised her chin, held out her glass, watched as Keefer poured her another shot. “I plan to use up every second of this suite upgrade with nothing but fun, food and partying. And in order to accomplish that, I don’t want to hear even one word about that phone call. Not one. Not tonight, anyway.”

  Her hips swayed again, then she did a hula wiggle. It caused her bare breasts to bounce, and the pink nipples went taut.

  “Can’t argue with that logic,” Keefer said. He raised his shot glass and chinked it against Jager’s. “Cheers, pal.”

  “Cheers.” Jager tossed back the liquor and braced himself for the fire. Yes, he did like his own logic, twisted as it was. And tonight he intended to make every second count. Until tomorrow, he’d forget Mitch, forget Kiona, Kol and Anjelee’s troubles.

  Damn straight.

  It was time to get the fire started again.

  Chapter Eight

  Jager rolled over and found himself flat on the cool tile floor. “Shit.”

  He moved his shoulder but winced at a shooting pain caused by all that twisting and wild lovemaking. Which reminded him of last night, which, in turn, brought Mitch’s call back to him on a wave of dread.

  “No, not today,” he muttered, and pushed himself until he lay on his back. He stared at the teak fan whirring lazily up in the beamed peak of the ceiling. He wasn’t going to let all the excitement and amazing interaction between the three of them go to waste. Hell with the laptop. He’d deal with it tomorrow.

  Or maybe the next day.

  Every muscle in his body screamed with pleasant aches from their marathon night of lovemaking. He pressed a row of fingertips to his forehead. His head throbbed from too much damn champagne, and he had enough cotton in his mouth to fill a fucking field. Hammered, that’s what he’d been—still was, probably. Hammered and nailed to a board of commitment with two irresistible, exasperating people.

  An onslaught of “deja brew” hit him. Their wild night came back to him in a wave of drunken memories. It replayed in his mind...massages, orgasms, swimming, orgasms, wild swing-sex, orgasms, fine food and drink, orgasms, dancing, more orgasms. Son of a bitch, what an evil place this was. Total gluttony. He let out a wicked laugh. The contest prize had definitely been worth ignoring his stage fright and participating—with the help of some vodka, chocolate and parfaits. He grinned and dragged himself up to his knees to scan the mattress. Empty. Except for rumpled sheets and a scattering of vibrators, overturned stemware and nothing but crumbs left on the fruit and cheese tray, he was alone. His lovers had abandoned him.

  He blinked. Were they making love somewhere without him?

  That now-familiar swirl of jealousy and anticipation tugged at his gut. He got to his feet and stumbled out into the bright, late-morning sun. “Christ.” He held up his hands to ward off the intense rays and search the suite deck for them through squinted eyes.

  He located Keefer alone on the opposite side of the pool. His upper body glistened in the sunlight.

  Nice.

  Jager noted with a quick scan of the veranda, that despite the lack of company, Keefer had no problem keeping himself occupied. He whacked the ball over the net and grinned that devastatingly handsome, bad-boy grin that took Jager’s breath away. Oh, yeah, no squeaky-clean, boy-next-door kind of image there. The man was like a brick wall painted with graffiti. Dark, tribal-style tattoos ringed both of his muscled upper arms, and artful serpents, wolves and blood-soaked swords were depicted on his shoulders, back, and even on one hip. His American Indian heritage sort of reminded Jager of Mitch and Kiona’s husband, Kol, the darkly handsome, bad-boy, native-Hawaiian who’d defied Kiona’s father, Heloki, at every turn in order to keep Kiona in his life.

  But Keefer was much taller than Kol, and he had a far different temperament. Kol was like a bomb set to detonate at any moment, while Keefer’s feathers remained unruffled, even with Anjelee’s attempts at plucking them. He exuded quiet confidence and a universal likability that few could pull off with such an intimidating, huge body and long, hippy-style hair. He was easygoing, ruggedly attractive and patient as hell.

  Jager gave himself a mental snort. He supposed anyone would have to resort to patience in order to keep Anjelee in line.

  “Morning.” Jager slipped nude into the pool. He hissed at the cool water and trudged to the opposite side to retrieve the ball. He knuckled it across the net, and he and Keefer began a back-and-forth volleying of the ball as they spoke.

  “Hey, you animal.” Keefer smacked the ball so hard, Jager had to guard his stomach to ward off the hard hit. He gave Jager a once-over look. “Well, aren’t you a bright ray of fucking sunshine this morning...er, um, make that almost noon?”

  He combed a hand through his tussled hair. “Ha, funny. So where’s our lady?” He swung his arms to the sides to do a quick stretch of his pecs before sending the ball zinging back to Keefer.

  “Gone.” Keefer shrugged. He leaped up and spiked the ball and it landed just out of Jager’s reach. It bounced off the water’s surface and hit the deck before rolling toward the umbrellaed patio furniture. “Um, everything cool with that phone call last night?”

  “Yeah, yeah, fine. Don’t worry about it. Like I said, dogs are called off. I’ve got it handled.” Jager launched himself out of the pool and retrieved the ball. He swore he could feel Keefer’s hot gaze warming his backside.

  “You sure?”

  “As shit.” Damn it, he knew he sounded unsure by the crack of his voice. But he didn’t want to ruin the day by discussing Mitch with Keefer, who would then discuss it with Anjelee and blow the entire vacation. He cleared his throat and tried to mimic Mitch’s excellent acting skills. “Now, what I want to know is, how could you have known her for years, and you still don’t know what’s going on inside that pretty little pink and blonde head of hers?”

  “Purple.” His dark eyes dropped to Jager’s cock. Keefer licked his lips.

  Jager’s libido roared to life. Yeah, now this is what I’m talking about. No stress, just pure fun. Heavy heat flooded his groin. “Huh?”

  “She just had it changed to purple at the resort salon this morning. You were out cold.” Keefer pushed his way through the water and pulled himself up on the pool’s edge. The sun glinted off his slick skin. Every muscle flexed, like bands of ribbon snaking around his body.

  Damn, the guy was so hot and fit.

  Jager sat next to Keefer and dangled his legs in the water while doing a toss-up-and-catch with the volleyball. “You’re fucking kidding. What’s next, green?”

  “She already went through green.” Keefer leaned back and propped himself on his hands. His soft cock nestled in the glistening-wet pillow of dark hair in his crotch. “I’d guess black would be next. Or maybe blue.”

  Mmm. Jager’s mouth watered. He recalled the taste and feel of Keefer’s cock in his mouth...sweet, hard, pulsing. Then Anjelee’s sweet come melting on his tongue...

  Jager averted his gaze through a line of palm trees, toward the white spikes of sailboats in the bay below. The sun beat on his shoulders, warming his blood. “I could see that very easily. And God help me, but all that indecisive change on anyone else would aggravate the hell outta me. On her, she could shave her head bald and something about it would excite me.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.”

/>   Jager tossed the ball into the water. He went and got two beers from the mini-fridge behind the patio bar, twisted both tops off, handed a cold one to Keefer. “So how could you have known her for so long and still not know about the extortion? Are you blind, or what?”

  “Fuck you.” Keefer held the cold bottle to his perspiring forehead then took a long swig. “You know how she is. She hides her feelings and her private life behind that outrageous exterior. I swear I didn’t have even a fraction of a clue what was going on. All she told me, both before and after her trip to Kabana, was that she was going on an assignment for a magazine to photograph the wedding of the most famous movie star on the planet. She just went, came back with a big-ass grin on her face, mumbled something about getting some really cool shots of Mitch Wulfrum. Of course, she wouldn’t let me look at them, cited some breech of contract if she did show them to me. No big fuckin’ deal to me, didn’t give a shit about the star.”

  Jager snorted. “Yeah, damn straight, she had a big-ass grin. At Mitch Wulfrum’s expense—huge expense.”

  “Huh. Well, I don’t have much sympathy there. He can afford it.”

  “Damn it. Why does everyone keep saying that? It’s still not right. He earned his money, and just like anyone else on this planet, if the same card were dealt to them, they’d take it. But the fact is, she blackmailed him, just like I told you that first day we met in your room. I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Jager shot Keefer a sidelong look, took a long fizzy swallow of his beer. “I’m addicted to her. She’s made me lose my ever-fucking mind to the point of hotness hypnosis. I’ve put my career on the line, and if I don’t find out what the hell is really going on here, I might as well kiss Mitch Wulfrum and every dollar in my holdings, goodbye. Not to mention I might be in legal trouble, too, for knowing where she is and not turning her in.”