I tried to smile coyly at him and pretend all was okay, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with the rejection. He tried to kiss me again, this time holding me even tighter. I began to panic and struggled against him. I called out for Mia, but she couldn’t hear me over the thud of the music. I felt his one hand moving over my backside and the other even going up my dress a little at my thigh. I pushed against him as hard as I could, but he was far too strong.
Suddenly, his grip loosened, and he stepped back. He turned around and I was relieved beyond words to see the outline of what I thought was the club’s bouncer against the glare of the flashing lights streaming across the dancefloor.
They clearly exchange words, but my over-enthusiastic dance partner quickly backed off as soon as he was grabbed by the throat and shoved backward, nearly sending him flying into the crowd of dancers. He recovered quickly and threw me a look of disgust before he walked away.
I could breathe again. I turned to look up at my tall rescuer and smiled, ready to thank him, but I froze. It was only when I saw his face clearly, that my brain registered who it was.
My rescuer was none other than Jake Matthews, Brandon’s best friend, the guy I’d had a crush on since I was twelve and someone I hadn’t seen for nearly seven years.
CHAPTER SIX
JAKE
†
BRANDON DIDN’T WANT TO come out with me that evening. Well, maybe a better way to put it would be that he wanted to come out for a few drinks so we could catch up on old times, but once he saw how much Clea didn’t like the idea, he quickly turned me down. “I’m a little tired after today,” he said, yawning in an attempt to prove just how much that was the case. “I’d better turn in early.”
He was clearly in the service of Her Majesty.
I didn’t push the issue. It was the guy’s wedding week, after all. But the jetlag meant that near midnight, I was still wide awake. So, I decided to take the motorcycle I’d rented that afternoon and go into town. I didn’t think there’d be much to see at this time of night in the small town of Poipu, only a couple of miles from our resort, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a busy little beach club full of tourists having a great night. I parked the bike and withdrew some cash from the nearest ATM. As I turned around, a Hawaiian guy in a loud shirt and beaming grin came scurrying over.
“Aloha,” he smiled, but I knew he was not interested in wishing me love, peace, and compassion in any way. This was business. “Are you interested in going to a club tonight?”
“With you?” I asked, a little taken aback.
He laughed. “No, sir! I’ve got a couple of flyers here that’ll get you a free cocktail if you buy another for a pretty lady.”
Holding the flyer out, his enthusiasm was undoubtable. From my travels, I knew that in a place where there was high poverty, thanks to little employment, the revenue from tourism was a big deal, and I always made an effort to help out where I could. I took a flyer.
“Thanks,” I said. “Only, I’m flying solo tonight. No pretty lady for me.”
“Well, ho-aloha, you’re in luck! We’ve got some beauties in the club tonight, my man,” he cried. “Go on, buy a girl a drink. You never know, you just might get lucky!”
I didn’t plan to go to a club, though. I’d been considering simply heading to a quiet bar and maybe talking with a few locals. I’d toyed with the idea as I always did whenever I left the house of taking my camera with me, but had decided against it. I’d learned a long time ago that the best nights were the ones you simply weren’t expecting. So, I waved goodbye to my new friend and slipped him ten bucks, though the smile he threw me deserved at least a twenty.
†
The music was as loud as it was in any other club all over the world, the thumping beat literally making my chest pound as I walked closer. I flashed the flyer and the bouncer pointed me towards the bar with a smile. I headed there without a pretty lady, as the guy had said, so I wasn’t about to get a free drink, but I didn’t care.
I paid double the usual price for a watered-down beer, but it was still refreshing after my motorcycle ride in the humid evening.
As I stood leaning on the bar, sipping my drink, I looked over at the dance floor. It wasn’t the largest club I’d ever seen, but even on a Tuesday night, it was clear that people were out for a good time. I smiled. My new friend was right.
There certainly were some beauties.
There was a pretty girl in a long dress and a glamorous afro, moving sexily to the beat of the music. Then there were others, sipping drinks and dancing with the kind of ease and repose that only comes from being on vacation.
They all seemed to have partners, though, and I figured I was the only one there without a date. I considered finishing my beer and leaving, but then I caught sight of her.
God, was she breathtaking.
Her short dress showed a stunning pair of legs and the rest of her… well, all I can say is she was what wet dreams were made of. She was captivating as she swayed to the music, her long hair falling over her shoulders as she moved.
The scene quickly changed as soon as some asshole came over and started dancing with her. Fuck, there must have been something wrong with his neck as he couldn’t pick his head up long enough to actually look her in the eye. For some reason, I felt deeply irritated. He was fucking disrespectful.
He then moved to put his hands on her, pulling her close as many of the guys were doing, moving to the sensual rhythm of the music. Only, the beauty in his arms clearly was uncomfortable. She didn’t seem too keen on the type of attention he was giving her.
I could see that she was struggling, but he wouldn’t let her go. I could feel the heat of anger surge through me. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing women being treated badly by men, especially men who simply won’t take no for an answer.
She was trying to get her friend’s attention, the one with the afro, but the friend was dancing away with no way of hearing her over the music.
Fuck it.
Putting my beer down on the counter, I quickly moved to where they were dancing on the side of the dance floor. She was still trying to get away from the unwanted attention of the sleezeball who had hold of her. I grabbed him by the shoulder and he spun around.
“Are you fucking blind? It’s clear to me that she doesn’t want you touching her,” I yelled in his ear, his cheap cologne filling my nostrils. I could have punched him just for smelling like that.
“Get your hands off her, now, and step back.”
“Fuck off,” he slurred, a sneer on his face. “Go find your own bitch.”
So he was not only blind but fucking dumb as well.
I wanted nothing more than to drag his skinny ass outside and rearrange his face for him, but I settled for grabbing him by the throat and shoving him backward, showing him that I was going nowhere.
With that, he knew I wasn’t joking and, although I knew he was itching to hit me, he also knew that I wasn’t the one who was about to walk away with a bloody nose, either. I’m six three and, as you know by now, not a small man.
He was smart for leaving, I’d give him that and, as soon as he did, I turned my attention to making sure she was all right.
Imagine my surprise when I saw who was standing in front of me.
It was Nicole Thomson, Brandon’s sister. Fuck, I hardly recognized her. I’d only ever known her as an awkward teenager, but now, she was certainly a woman, and she looked incredible.
She was just as surprised as I was and, once she got over the shock, she put her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I can’t believe it!” she cried over the music. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
My hands were on her waist, and it was impossible not to take in her beautiful face, her sultry eyes and full lips, but I soon let go of her. After all, she’d just been rescued from one creep; she certainly didn’t need another groping her. She tried to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear her.
“Hang on!�
� she yelled. She tapped her friend on the shoulder, the one who hadn’t heard her moments earlier, but who now looked at her with a smile, before looking over at me as Nicole gestured and tried to shout over the music. Her friend must have gotten the message, though, and made a “call me” sign with her thumb and pinky finger. Then Nicole pointed to the exit, and the two of us walked out together.
“Gosh. My ears are still ringing from that music!” she exclaimed once we were outside, smiling shyly and pressing her fingers to her ears.
“Yeah, it’s pretty loud in there. Fancy seeing you here! Come on, let’s walk.” I wanted to get away from the small gathering of smokers puffing next to us. She didn’t protest and we slowly made our way up the paved walkway.
“It’s been so long. What on earth have you been up to?” she smiled.
I gave her the short version and told her about working as a photographer for Woke. I was pleased to see she was impressed.
“It’s one of the few magazines I actually subscribe to,” she said. “It comes to my iPad every month. I’ve gotten some great inspiration from some of their articles, particularly the ones about sustainable water solutions for third world countries.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why on earth would they inspire you?”
When she told me all about her work on the first high-rise plyscraper in the mid-western USA, I was more than a little impressed. “Well, hell. I thought you’d still be at college,” I grinned.
“Yeah, I sort of finished high school early and then college, too,” she said, but while there was no smugness in her voice, there was no coyness either.
We headed back in the direction of the parking lot where my bike was parked.
On this sultry, late summer night, I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful woman who walked alongside me. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been an awkward, gangly teen with braces who used to drive Brandon crazy, wanting a ride to the mall, or to borrow his leather jacket for school.
There was no awkward teenager about her now, though. Her long straight hair fell between her shoulder blades, and her dark eyes seemed to glow in the low light of the very early hours of the morning. Her dress complimented her beautiful figure, as her gangly limbs now seemed to know exactly how to move. More than once, I found myself looking at the curve of her ass, or the swell of her breasts. I soon snapped out of my reverie though; I wasn’t there to hit on my friend’s sister, that was for sure.
Back at the lot, I got my keys out of my pocket and put them in the bike’s ignition.
“Is this yours?” she asked.
“Only for rent while I’m here,” I said. “It’s a little big for this island, but when I saw it at the rental place, I just knew I had to have it. Anyway, can you picture me zipping around on a little moped?”
I laughed, and she did the same, and I loved the unrestrained bubbly sound of it.
“Actually, I can,” she chuckled. “So it totally makes sense you opting for the larger bike.”
“Glad you’re having some fun at my expense,” I grinned, enjoying her infectious laugh. “Well, I was hoping to get a chance to really let her out on the open road in the next couple of days, but….”
She stood next to the bike, one long leg crossed over the other. I was, once again, struggling not to stare at them.
“Hop on,” I said. “Let’s take the long way back. You game?”
She hesitated. “I shouldn’t leave Mia…” she said, looking back toward the club. “She’s my best friend and we did come here together. It wouldn’t be right for me to just leave her.”
I wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“She seemed to be having more than a good time with that guy she was with,” I said. “So good, in fact, that she didn’t notice that you were getting trouble from that creep.”
“Yeah, about that,” she said, smiling up at me. “Thanks. I really appreciate you helping me out. He just didn’t seem to get the message that I wasn’t interested. I don’t really want to think about what might have happened if you weren’t there.”
“Well, it’s my pleasure,” I smiled. “I can’t stand fucking assholes like that, forcing themselves on women.”
“All the same,” she said, “I can’t just leave Mia. She—”
The cell phone ringing in her purse cut her off mid-sentence. She quickly took it out, giving it a quick glance before bringing it up to her ear as she flipped her hair to one side, exposing the delicate skin of her neck.
Fuck.
“Speak of the devil,” she whispered, clasping her hand over the phone. “It’s her. Give me one second.”
She returned her attention to her friend on the other side of the phone and they talked for a minute or so. “Really?” Nicole said into the phone. “Are you sure you want to? I thought you were seeing someone back home?” She waited for the answer. “Oh, okay then. I didn’t know that, sorry. Hey, as long as you’re safe and you feel happy going to the party with him, then have a great time. Just don’t forget to call me if you get stuck. Promise?”
With the call over, she slipped the phone back into her purse. “She’s hooked up,” she said, crinkling her nose.
Great. Just what I wanted to hear.
“Well then. There’s no excuse now. You ready to come with me?” I asked, folding my arms.
She bit her lip and then nodded. “It looks like it,” she said.
With that, I threw my leg over the bike and pulled the helmet on, all the time watching her, wondering what she was going to do with that little dress of hers. It wasn’t made for biking, that was for goddamn sure.
I held out the second helmet to her and she took it. I helped her fasten the clip once she put it on. She looked fucking damn cute.
What she did next, took me by surprise. She scrunched up the dress, slung one leg over the seat and sat down behind me. What a sassy damn move.
I couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of her white lacey panties, and I had to look away as my body was already responding to what it had just witnessed. As if that wasn’t enough, she bumped up against me and curled her arms around my waist, pressing her breasts against my back. I swear to God, if there weren’t people around, I would have bent her over that bike and made her mine just then and there.
But instead, I kicked the bike into life, and we roared off into the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NIKKI
†
THE LAST PERSON I expected to see that night was Jake. I’m not kidding. If you’d given me a pen and paper and told me to write a list of all the people I didn’t expect to see that night, then he’d have been right up there, second only to my deceased grandmother.
But, there he was, looking gorgeous with his short dark hair and now sporting a beard, which I thought was damn sexy after seeing the one my brother was trying to pull off. His tanned skin made mine look like I’d simply been kissed by the sun, whereas he’d been full-on ravaged by it.
That grin and that dimple in his right cheek … goddammit, I’d hoped he’d have grown out of it by the time I was old enough to stand within ten feet of him again and not feel like my heart was plummeting through my stomach towards the floor.
I knew there was a very slim chance he’d come to the wedding. Of course I’d thought about it when I wondered who was going to be Brandon’s best man but after he told me he’d chosen Clea’s brother, Chester, to be just that, I figured that Jake was probably hacking his way through a jungle somewhere, machete in one hand and camera in the other as there was no way Chester was Brandon’s natural first choice.
When he told me he was the principal photographer for Woke magazine, I pretended to be surprised. There was no way I was going to let on that I bought every copy of that darned thing and even got the digital copy, too, just so I could follow his work. I’d spend any free time I had, be it on a plane, a train or a taxi into the city on my way to an appointment, swiping through the magazine on my iPad, trying to imagine him behind the lens; the
camera pressed to his face, one eye closed as the other peered through the viewer.
I knew he’d been to the jungles of Borneo, the Australian outback, the salt flats of Bolivia, the gold mines of the Witwatersrand. He’d been privy to some of the most incredible natural phenomena as the pictures of the Northern Lights had proven. And, everywhere he went in the world, I followed him, pretending in the earlier days that I was with him on his travels, seeing what he was seeing. As time went by, though, and the young eager teenage mind of mine became focused on my career, reality won out, and I settled for simply subscribing to his blog and reading about his life along with the other thousands of subscribers.
His blog hadn’t made mention of his return to the States, though. I guessed he must have been a little behind with the updates but, naturally, I couldn’t question him on it because then he’d know that I’d been semi-stalking him all this time.
Instead, I reminded myself to act surprised when he talked about visiting places I knew very well he’d been to because, let’s face it, he’d just saved me from a creepy weirdo; he didn’t need to think that I was one, too.
As the engine of the huge bike throbbed loudly as we rode out of the town, I was grateful that he couldn’t hear my heart beating over the din. I wondered whether he could feel it, though, as my chest leaned against his back, and my arms had to loop around his waist so that I wouldn’t fall off the bike. I perched my toes on the sides, hoping that my expensive nude pumps wouldn’t fly off onto the road when I’d only worn them once.
He seemed to know where he was going, and I knew from the short cab ride that we weren’t going back to the resort. But, I wasn’t worried. Not for a second. I hadn’t seen the guy in seven years but I already trusted him like I did my own brother, only I knew I’d never feel anything like I did at that moment had I been holding onto Brandon for dear life.
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