Going Hard: Divemasters, Book 3

by Jayne Rylon

  “So you’re coming then?” Tosin double-checked. “I had hoped I might get to share a meal with you after all. Or maybe you could be my tutor on the cultural program for the evening.”

  And maybe after that, he could teach her a little about how he rolled too.

  “Of course. Practically the entire island will be there. At least to grab a bite to eat, if not to socialize. Fewer than two-thousand people live on Aitutaki,” she told them.

  “Then it’s a date?” he asked.

  Right about the time her father ambled into the room. He huffed, then growled, “Kahori should focus on business tonight. The pearl traders will all be in from their posts. It’s a good time to make deals.”

  “One night off won’t hurt, Pāpā.” Kahori softened her father’s rough edges. “Besides, I already told Tuiara that I would perform. So you’ll get to see me doing some of our traditional dances.”

  Tosin didn’t care if her dad was right there and the size of a refrigerator. He nearly did a jig himself.

  Night made.

  His time in other South Pacific countries made him pretty damn sure this was going to involve a lot of hip shaking and bared skin. Count him in. “I’ll make sure to sit in the front row then.”

  Her father took a step toward him.

  Miguel intervened to keep Tosin’s teeth firmly attached to his skull. “We’ll stop interrupting you now so that you can enjoy tonight, then. If you have some availability in the next couple of days, maybe I could come back to discuss commissioning another ring from you. One for my girlfriend this time.”

  Kahori’s father backed off a little at the promise of more profits. The three divemasters drifted out to the porch, leaving him to smolder in peace in her workshop. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he hadn’t followed.

  “Thanks again for the flowers. See you tonight,” Kahori said quietly to Tosin before rushing to close the gap between them. She went onto her tiptoes, braced her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his cheek before spinning away fast enough that he couldn’t capitalize on the moment to forge a deeper connection. Her pareu flapped around her shapely thighs as she disappeared into her studio.

  “Pāpā, I can’t believe you were so rude,” he heard her hiss. “They’re good customers. And…just…good people.”

  “No papa'a is good enough for you. If you’re finally interested in having a boyfriend, there are a half dozen local boys who are interested in the position,” her father snapped in response without even trying to disguise his objection from the men outside. “Now, where are the boxes for today’s shipment? If they’re ready, I’ll deliver them to the airport for you.”

  Tosin made sure they were well away from her cottage and out of sight of any prying eyes before he high-fived his friends. It may not have gone as smoothly as he’d hoped, but he was making progress.

  Tonight was going to be epic.

  Five

  Kahori could have kicked herself for giving in to her impulse earlier. Kissing Tosin had been reckless. Especially with her disapproving father in the room next door. She hadn’t wanted Tosin to believe her as intolerant and impolite as her family, though. Especially not when he’d been so freaking nice to her. And—okay, she admitted it—when everything about him turned her on.

  Maybe indulging her lust with him would be the safest sort of affair.

  After all, it wouldn’t be long before he was waving bon voyage from the ridiculous yacht she’d heard he’d cruised up on with his friends. Given the way they’d dropped money without hesitation in her shop, she was beginning to wonder exactly who they were and what they were up to around these parts. They didn’t seem like simple tourists.

  Hopefully tonight she could find out more.

  It couldn’t hurt to get to know Tosin a little, could it?

  Kahori took extra time lining her eyes and applying a stain made of crushed flowers and berries to her lips. She wove some of the blossoms Tosin had brought her into the length of her hair then shrugged into her traditional outfit. Every girl had a coconut bra or two in their closet, didn’t they? If not, they should, because this one made her rack look pretty impressive.

  She smiled into the mirror, humming as she tied her kikau around her waist. Over the grass skirt she fastened her most elaborate titi, which hugged her hips. The combination of feathers, shells, and dried fronds stood out from her midsection like a ballerina’s tutu. It would accentuate the swing of her body to the beat of the drums. She’d made the costume herself, collecting only the most striking materials from the island around her until she was satisfied.

  To her, the outfit was as much of a masterpiece as the ring she’d sold Archer.

  Could Tosin be more appreciative of the unfamiliar than her own family? She hoped so.

  Kahori didn’t know how to make herself any more appealing than this. It had to be enough. Because although she hadn’t intended to tangle herself up with him, the simple kiss she’d ambushed him with before hadn’t quenched her desire for a taste of him.

  She stared at herself in the mirror then adorned herself with wooden bracelets, pearl necklaces, and feather earrings from her collections until she was weighed down with a relative fortune in gorgeous things.

  This was her turf. Tonight would be different than the last time she’d surrendered to curiosity about her sexual urges.

  And if it ended badly, then at least her father would have the satisfaction of being right.

  Kahori glanced at the clock, though she could already hear the sounds of drummers warming up on their pates. She had to hurry. Without bothering with shoes she’d only kick off when it came time to dance, or walk along the beach in the moonlight afterward, she set off down the dirt road that wound from her house to the village’s gathering place, where island nights and other formal celebrations were held.

  After she’d trekked nearly half the distance to town, she realized she’d forgotten the poi—weighted balls on chains wrapped in a slow-burning fuse—she needed for the ura rama fire dance. Cursing under her breath, praying she didn’t ruin the effort she’d taken on her appearance, she trotted back toward home.

  When she approached, it surprised her to see a glow coming from her studio. Had she forgotten to turn off the lights in her haste?

  Get yourself together, Kahori!

  She ripped herself over her forgetfulness and the way she’d absolutely lost her mind over a handsome man, who probably wouldn’t turn out to be half as exciting or as good in bed as she had built him up in her mind to be.

  Kahori charged inside, ready to grab her torches, and heard rummaging in the other room.

  Someone was there!

  “Hello?” she called.

  “Kahori?” Hemi answered.

  “Hey, did you need something? I’m late.” She scooped up her torches, slipped the leather loops on their handles over her hands, and stuck her head in the other room.

  “There were some packages that needed to go out this afternoon,” Hemi reminded her.

  “Oh, sorry. Pāpā took those to the airport office for me earlier. All except the one I haven’t quite finished yet. I thought he would have mentioned it.” Kahori hoped Hemi hadn’t spent too long looking for them. “You coming?”

  “Maybe later.” He shrugged. “You look great, though.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed in relief.

  “That guy doesn’t deserve one of our best.” He shook his head as he mumbled then shut off the light, leaving with her, though they went in separate directions once they reached the street.

  “Careful, Hemi, or you’ll turn into my Pāpā soon.” She rolled her eyes as she called over her shoulder to him. He shot her a vulgar gesture.

  Kahori only laughed, then took off again, this time trotting as the rhythm of the drums rent the sultry evening air, calling her onward. She ran toward the savage pounding in time to the beat until she wasn’t sure if the crashing of the sea on the barrier reef—the strongest force she’d ever experienced before—o
r the raging anticipation within her held greater power.

  She was about to find out.

  Please, let me be ready for the storm I am about to unleash.

  Six

  Punctuality wasn’t Tosin’s strongpoint. Yet he’d dragged his friends to the island night celebration sickeningly early. He’d parked himself on a blanket right in the absolute center of the front row and refused to budge in case someone swiped his place. Delicious aromas wafting out of the umukai—an oven dug in the earth, filled with basalt rocks to hold in heat for slow roasting—as villagers unwrapped banana leaves from a feast of suckling pigs. Even those mouth-watering smells couldn’t persuade him to abandon his spot.

  Though it was making him hungry as hell.

  “Waverly, if you love me you’ll go grab me a snack to hold me over until after the performances.” He flashed her his best imitation of baby seal eyes. “Please. I’m dying.”

  “Fine. Only because I think it’s cute that you have such a crush on the girl who made Sabine’s amazing earrings.” She eyed the jewelry dangling from their friend’s ears longingly, then patted his knee. “And because it smells so damn good I need to check it out for myself anyway.”

  Archer didn’t need any prodding. He followed Waverly, and his stomach, toward the buffet that was being set up. Not before he flashed them a discreet yet enthusiastic thumbs-up. Tosin knew it was because his girlfriend had appreciated Kahori’s artistry.

  There was no doubt Waverly was going to adore the ring Archer had selected for her nearly as much as she loved the man himself.

  That left Tosin wedged between Banks, who stretched out on his back, staring at the twilight sky, on one side of him and Sabine, who sat on Miguel’s lap, on the other. “For the record, I do not have a crush on Kahori.”

  No, the things he had in mind had far less to do with puppy love and a whole lot more to do with very adult appetites.

  “Probably for the best,” Miguel said with a smirk. “Because if you did, you’d have to compete with every other dude between the ages of eighteen and sixty on this island for her attention.”

  Tosin followed his friend’s gaze to the woman in question. She approached at a trot that set all his instant favorite parts of her body jiggling enticingly. Even Banks hummed. “That’s her?”

  “Yup.” Tosin tried not to pant.

  Worse, he clamped his mouth shut to keep from extolling her other virtues. Like how she’d been super insightful when helping Archer find the perfect ring. Or how she’d been honest and fair in setting her price despite Archer’s disclaimer. Or how she’d advocated for the use of clean energy with logical strategies in her magazine interview. Or how she excelled at both creative and business pursuits, building her brand from the ground up while earning the appreciation of thousands of art connoisseurs around the world.

  And yeah, she was gorgeous and inherently sensual on top of all those other things.

  It wasn’t often that Tosin’s dick and his brain both appreciated the same woman. Major red alert.

  “If it wasn’t for my obsession with Marta, I might give you a run for your money, kid.” Banks grinned when Tosin glared at him.

  Sabine laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be the role model around here?”

  “Maybe this old dog is learning some of the young dogs’ tricks instead.” Banks waggled his brows then went back to admiring the last lingering pastel clouds left in the wake of what had been a spectacular sunset.

  Tosin would have gone to speak to Kahori, except a woman in a similar—though less extravagant—traditional costume whisked her away. Waverly and Archer made it back and fed him a few scraps of delectable pork and grilled papaya. Just like Kahori’s peck this afternoon, the tender meat only made him crave a bigger bite.

  Before he could sneak another helping, the drummers assembled in a semi-circle. They stayed within the bamboo poles lying in the sand, which delineated the “stage” for tonight’s performances.

  People crowded together as they settled down and gave their full attention to the collection of men who began to play as one. The primal thundering of their fists and tapered sticks on hollowed out logs and sharkskin drumheads mesmerized Tosin along with the rest of the audience.

  As the last of the sunlight faded, dozens of tiki torches were lit. Flames flickered, casting dancing shadows onto the beach. The soft slap of gentle waves accompanied the music made by dozens of hands acting in unison. If he closed his eyes, Tosin could imagine this place and similar humans entertaining themselves the same way a thousand years ago.

  Even still, in all the time in between then and now, he was sure a woman as captivating as Kahori had never existed. She confirmed his theory when the drummers parted and admitted her into their midst. Singing layered on top of the percussion as she began to sway from side to side. She kicked off the show solo, clearly its star. Her arms and hips moved sinuously in an unhurried style that appeared similar to hulas he’d seen in Hawaii, though fiercer and extraordinarily sensual. Tosin overheard one of the local women tell Banks the dance was called the hura.

  It didn’t take long before Tosin had to crumple up a corner of the blanket he sat on to cover his lap, though it might take the entire quilt to camouflage the effect she had on him. Fortunately, he got a bit of a reprieve as the song ended and an ensemble of about a dozen men took her place.

  Their power and precision awed him, but it didn’t tug at his soul like Kahori had. They performed a fast-paced drum dance, shaking the dried grass tied around their calves furiously with moves that reminded him of exotic birds. Crouched, feet together, they flapped their knees apart then closed triple time to the beat while their arms sliced through the air. Percussive claps and shouts punctuated their actions. Shark-teeth necklaces stood out stark white against their bronzed skin.

  They were badass and would definitely have given him pause if he were a rival tribe leader. A group of men so in sync and in shape would be tough to beat on the battlefield.

  When he thought he’d seen it all, women began to join them as the men made way. He scanned the troupe for any hint of Kahori.

  She wasn’t there. Tosin would know in an instant if she was. Still, there was a hell of a lot of bare midriff, soft skin, and undulating abdomens to keep him interested in the change of crew. These women could shake it. Seriously.

  As impressive as the guys had been, the women were even more so. Grace tempered the fury of their movements, which were coupled with a walloping helping of seduction.

  The instant the music changed, Tosin leaned forward. As he had hoped, Kahori rejoined the dancers. This time two men approached, one from each side of her. Both carried torches. Her features stood out in the harsh lighting, making her appear otherworldly. Strong and worthy of devotion from mere mortals. Sign him the hell up.

  As if the image she projected wasn’t enough to keep him engrossed, she locked her stare on his before offering him a coy smile.

  Tosin gazed into her eyes until something sparked by her side, startling him. It was only then he realized what had happened. The men had lit the contraptions dangling from chains cuffed to her wrists. Now she wielded two actual fireballs.

  What the fuck?

  Though the sight of her in paraphernalia that reminded him of bondage gear took his fantasies straight to the next level, he wasn’t sure it was wise. What if she got burned?

  Instead, it was him that began to smolder. If her previous dance had been sensual, this one was a frenzy of passion. The drumming escalated until her hips damn near shook the feathers off the belt that hugged her low around her waist, right where he’d like to lay a trail of open-mouthed kisses.

  He hadn’t known humans were capable of movement like that.

  Twerking had nothing on the ura rama.

  And all the while, she swung the fireballs in elaborate swirls to the beat. As the song progressed, her tricks got more and more daring. Dangerous.

  Tosin’s pounding heart threatened to burst as she swung the
poi behind her back, over her head, and even between her legs. Right where he wanted to be. He imagined fucking to this insane tempo, being driven on by the primordial pulse that matched his crescendoing lust.

  Kahori had him lunging half out of his cross-legged position when she appeared to lose her grip on those whirling flames. Instead of crashing into her or the crowd, they landed at her feet in just the right place to ignite a ring of oil he hadn’t noticed earlier. She danced on, cocooned in an inferno, dropping into a crouch while still working her hips.

  Every man in the place must have imagined what a woman with that kind of muscle memory would be capable of during sex. She could ride him to hell and back, he was sure.

  Tosin was ready and willing to let her burn him up all night long.

  With one final flourish, the flame extinguished, the drums halted at a dead stop, and the entire beach was plunged into dark silence that rang in his ears. Only the paths of light from Kahori’s whirling fireworks, which were probably etched permanently into his eyeballs, remained like the light trail from a sparkler.

  Tosin struggled to catch his breath, maybe drawing air into his lungs for the first time in twenty minutes. Beside him Miguel groaned, “Daaaaammmmnnnnn.”

  Then applause rang out from everywhere around them. Tosin clapped loudest.

  When it died down and the torches around the buffet were lit, the divemasters and their little gang sat speechless despite the line rapidly forming under the food tent.

  Sabine gawked at Miguel. “I should smack you for that reaction… But daaaaammmmmnnnnnn is right.”

  Waverly leaned over to ask her, “Do you think Kahori could teach us to do some half-assed version of that?”

  Archer and Miguel wore matching grins when Sabine said, “I don’t know, but I think we should ask for a lesson.”

  “I second that motion,” Archer said while staring at his girlfriend, as if picturing her in Kahori’s place.

  Tosin didn’t have to make any mental substitutions. He’d never forget what he’d seen tonight. It would be hard to when the woman who’d played the goddess on the stage before him raced around to rejoin them. He tried not to be disappointed when he realized the bottom half of her ornate traditional costume had been swapped for another pareu, this time wrapped around her waist and knotted off center at one hip. It was lovely. But he hoped someday he could convince her to give him a private showing of her moves in her full regalia. At least she’d kept the coconut bra.