Sex On The Beach: Bad Boys Club Romance #1

by Olivia Thorne

  But – as always – the panic came out as anger. “DON’T.”

  He didn’t heed the warning. “Not to mention Natasha and what she did – ”

  “Bryce?” I snapped. “Don’t make me throw you out.”

  His expression softened. In that moment I knew he was no longer my Chief Technology Officer worried about a payday – he was my college buddy, a good friend who was sincerely worried about me. “Look, you really should talk about it with someone.”

  No matter how well-intentioned he was, though, I wasn’t interested in his advice. “You really should shut the hell up.”

  “It isn’t healthy being here, man. There’s a lot of ghosts in this place. For you, I mean. Not literally, of course, but – ”

  “That’s why I’m not staying here. So – problem solved.”

  “I didn’t mean this house, I meant Venice.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  When he saw the Good Friend routine wasn’t going to cut it, he started to beg, with a little humor thrown in for good measure. “This is our baby, man. And baby needs a new pair of shoes.”

  “Baby’s got all the shoes she’ll ever need.”

  “Okay, BRYCE needs a new pair of shoes. Preferably crusted in diamonds.”

  I knew he was joking, but the sentiment disgusted me all the same. “Is that all you care about? Money?”

  “Easy for you to say, when you come from this,” he said, gesturing around the thirty-foot-tall room.

  I scoffed. “Connecticut prep schools, Stanford – you didn’t exactly grow up on the wrong side of the tracks.”

  “Yeah, well, your background makes mine look like the ghetto.”

  “Not my fault.”

  “Not the past, no – but everything that happens from here on out is if you bail.”

  I finished my drink and set the glass back on the marble bar top. “You need to go.”

  “…you’re not coming back, are you,” he asked, his voice bitter and resigned.

  “Not right now.”

  His expression turned ugly. “Then you’re going to force me to – ”

  I walked right up to him and got in his face. “To do what?” I snarled.

  He backed off immediately. I had almost ten inches and a hundred pounds on him. I’m sure anybody who saw us would have immediately pegged me as the muscle-bound bully and him as the scrawny nerd.

  They wouldn’t have realized that he was the one trying to bully me into something I didn’t want to do.

  Bryce shrank away from my wrath. “…to bring in some other people to convince you,” he muttered.

  “Nobody’s going to convince me.”

  “I thought Vic might be able to,” he said defiantly.

  Shit.

  The little asshole was playing rough.

  Except for one thing: I wasn’t going to play at all.

  I turned and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Bryce wailed.

  “I’m not staying around here, that’s for sure.”

  “You can’t run away from this!”

  “I’m not running away. I’m walking away.”

  The panic on his face would have been comical, if I weren’t so pissed at him for trying to manipulate me for the last five minutes. “From the BUSINESS?”

  “No – from you! Now leave me alone, and stop following me!”

  I shut the door behind me, then walked out of the yard and back onto the street.

  30

  I jogged up the boulevard and was careful to weave around through side streets on my way back home. If Bryce had hired people to case the beach looking for me, it wasn’t inconceivable that they were watching me right now. When I was confident I wasn’t being followed, I headed back to my rental house.

  As I got closer, I thought about the punk-ass with the cornrows and what would happen if I ran into him.

  Whatever. I way preferred getting into a brawl with a street thug than sticking around and listening to Bryce’s self-pitying bullshit.

  But I didn’t run into Cornrows or his buddies.

  I guess the cops got them. Or they split.

  To tell the truth, I was a little disappointed. I kind of wanted to work out my aggression, and pounding on a would-be rapist’s face would have been a nice way to do it.

  I unlocked the rental’s front door, then went to the fridge and got myself a beer. As I popped the top and looked around, I thought, It’s not so bad here.

  Definitely not on the same level as what I was normally used to. But it was fun to slum it every once in a while.

  I went out to the garden and sat down in one of the lawn chairs. There were still scraps of dried lime stuck to the chair – a pleasant memory of last night with Katie.

  Katie…

  Damn.

  I wondered what she would have thought of my parents’ house. Probably would have stared at it goggle-eyed with her tongue hanging out.

  Which is why she’ll never see it, I thought bitterly.

  Although, to be fair, that’s not the reason why I didn’t want to take her there. Since what happened last summer, I couldn’t stay in that house. I’d tried tonight, but even if Bryce hadn’t been there, I’m not sure I could have stuck it out till morning.

  I didn’t want to sell it. It’s where I grew up, after all. But just going in there was hard enough. Probably why I fixed myself a drink as soon as I walked in.

  And then Bryce being there… well, that kind of soured it for me. But it was also a handy excuse to run away.

  There’s a lot of ghosts in this place, he’d said.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  31

  She showed up the next morning for the surfing lesson looking hotter than ever. That black and red bikini she’d bought… I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, and she knew it.

  She was enjoying it.

  “Hey, eyes up here, brah,” she teased me.

  No reason to lie – she’d caught me red-handed. “It’s a little hard when you’re dressed like that.”

  “What’s a little hard?” she asked coyly, a finger to her lips like she was oh-so innocent.

  “Ha ha,” I said, though I wasn’t laughing.

  She locked her arms behind her waist and arched her back, which made her breasts thrust out even more.

  “Is it getting harder?” she asked with fake sympathy.

  Damn it –

  I grabbed my sweat jacket off the sand and held it in front of my crotch.

  “Get on the board and practice your pop-ups,” I ordered.

  She laughed and put a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to make that happen – ”

  Yes you did.

  “On the board,” I snapped.

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy,” and then she lay down on the board and dutifully started practicing her pop-ups.

  I probably shouldn’t have started off with that, though – because every time she moved, her breasts swayed enticingly. And every time she lay down flat on the board, her perfect ass was sticking up in the air.

  This was not helping things.

  Think about baseball… about system schematics… about XML database coding…

  Although this time she seemed oblivious to my predicament. She was entirely absorbed in practicing.

  “Sorry about last night,” she said as she jumped to a crouched position.

  So am I.

  But I played it cool. “What about it?”

  “I didn’t know my roommate was going to be there.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  She made a face. “Well, maybe not for you, but for me there was plenty to be sorry about…”

  I laughed. It was nice to be around a woman who didn’t play games – who was open and honest, even if she was doing it in a cute way.

  She stood up from the board and looked shy for a moment, then glanced down at the sand as she blushed. “Think we could, uh… try again later?”

&
nbsp; Oh man.

  I wanted her so bad right now – I wanted to say Let’s go and take her up to my rental and just ravish her for the next four hours. I wanted to lick every inch of her body, to make her come over and over again, to listen to her moan and scream in pleasure –

  STOP.

  I have to keep control of my emotions.

  When I didn’t answer immediately, she looked up. She could tell something was wrong. I could see the fear and the embarrassment in her eyes. Maybe she thought she’d been too forward.

  No.

  I wanted to tell her I wanted to – that I wanted her – but I was afraid that would just encourage her, and I couldn’t chance that.

  “Katie… I…”

  “Iaaaaaan!”

  A low, deep voice called out from behind me.

  A voice I knew.

  Shit.

  Vic.

  I turned around. There he was in his trademark beard, t-shirt, and camouflage pants. When you’re as rich as Vic, you don’t give a shit about what you wear, because any restaurant or club in the world will accommodate you no matter what. If they don’t, you threaten to buy out their establishment with a phone call. That’s what ‘fuck you’ money can do.

  Bryce followed close behind him, looking woefully skinny and pale next to Vic. He wore a vintage Atari shirt he probably bought for $300 off some collector’s site.

  The nerd and the beast, teaming up to wrangle me back in.

  32

  Katie

  I’d basically just thrown myself at Ian, and he wasn’t answering. I looked up at him, and I could see some sort of conflict playing out on his face.

  My cheeks burned and my heart sank.

  Am I not pretty enough?

  Not skinny enough?

  I’m just some Kansas girl – he must think I’m a hick –

  I hated myself for immediately thinking those things, but there they were. Just because you don’t like your insecurities doesn’t mean they’re not there.

  I shouldn’t have said anything – I should have just shut the hell up –

  He started to say something. “Katie, I – ”

  All of a sudden, a deep, bass voice boomed out.

  “Iaaaaaan!”

  Startled, I looked over at the source: a handsome bodybuilder-looking dude, even more muscular than Ian. He was fairly tall, about six foot one. He had deeply tanned skin, a perfectly trimmed brown beard, and a blinding white smile. He wore a tan t-shirt, camouflage pants, and navy blue canvas loafers.

  Most of him was A+ material, but the clothes? Tackyyyyy.

  He kind of looked like a beach bum, except he was very well-groomed.

  One of Ian’s surfer friends?

  But he doesn’t look like a surfer…

  Behind him was a nerdy guy whose skin was even paler than mine. He had a mop of brown hair and plastic-rimmed hipster glasses. He was wearing a shirt that said Atari, cargo shorts with too many pockets, and brand new tennis shoes. Definitely not a surfer.

  Ian has a weird combination of friends…

  “What’s up, bro?” the bearded guy crowed, with his arms held out wide like he wanted a bear hug.

  Ian wasn’t having any of it.

  “Not much,” he said, cold as an Arctic wind – then added sarcastically, “Bro.”

  “Awww, don’t be like that,” Bearded Dude said, and walked right past Ian to me. “Who’s your lady friend?”

  “Katie,” I said warily.

  He flashed me a million watt smile. “Katie, I’m Vic. It is a true pleasure.”

  He held out his hand to shake mine – but as soon as my fingers were in his, he held them up to his mouth and kissed them lightly.

  It would have all been very gallant if it weren’t so freaking corny – and if he weren’t dressed in camouflage pants.

  He seemed to be in on the joke, though. He was grinning the whole time, like I know I’m being ridiculous – isn’t this fun?

  I couldn’t quite tell yet if I liked him or not.

  Part of it might have been the fumes rolling off him in waves. Rum, I think.

  This early in the morning? Jeez.

  One thing he didn’t do, though, was leer at me. He looked me straight in the eyes the entire time.

  Couldn’t say the same for the nerd, who stared at my chest like an Amish teenager seeing a Victoria’s Secret ad for the first time.

  “And this is Bryce,” Ian said, then snapped at the nerd, “Quit staring at her. Jesus.”

  Bryce blushed bright red, mumbled a ‘hello,’ then dropped his gaze to the sand, with a few furtive glances now and then at my bikini top.

  “Friends of yours?” I asked Ian.

  Ian narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t call them ‘friends,’ exactly.”

  Vic turned around and held out his arms like Gimme a break. “Aw, bro, why you gotta be like that?”

  “Are you drunk?” Ian asked.

  Vic looked up like he was thinking it over. “It’s possible, yes.”

  “It’s eight in the morning, Vic,” Ian said reproachfully.

  “Never sobered up from last night, grandma.” Vic turned towards me. “Hey, Katie – you like boats?”

  This sounded like the wind-up for a bad pickup line. “I guess…?”

  He waved his hands dismissively. “I’m not talking, like, fishing boats or kayaks – I’m talkin’ luxury yachts.”

  Still waiting for the punch line. “Okay…?”

  He pointed out at the ocean. “See that boat out there?”

  There was a small pinpoint on the horizon. I couldn’t tell anything about it, other than since it was on the water, it was probably a boat.

  “…yeah…?”

  “That’s mine.”

  “Okay…?”

  “You guys should come out! We’re havin’ a party, man!”

  “No,” Ian said.

  “No?” Vic asked, baffled.

  “No.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “I just invited you to a party, bro!”

  “I just declined. ‘Bro.’”

  Vic turned to Bryce in confusion. “I just invited him to the most awesome thing he could possibly do right now, and he said ‘no.’ Am I not understanding this because I’m drunk or dumb?”

  “Both,” Ian answered.

  Vic held out his hands and leaned back like C’mon, man. “Bro – ”

  “It’s brah,” I said.

  Everybody looked over at me. Suddenly I felt shy.

  “What?” Vic asked.

  “Brah. That’s what surfers say.”

  Vic laughed and turned back to Ian. “Ohhhhh – is that what you are now? A surfer?”

  Ian glared at his frenemy with eyes turned to slits. “Right now – yes.”

  “Then you should totally come out to my boat! You’ll love it, being out on the water!”

  “I told you, no thanks.”

  Vic put on a sad puppy dog face. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings, buddy.”

  “You’ll get over it.”

  Vic shook his head like he was resigning himself to sadness, then immediately clapped his hands together, rubbed them, and put on that mischievous smile again. “Well, then… I guess I’m just gonna have to hang with you guys and learn how to surf! We’ll all be best buds, and we can talk about how we know each other – hell, I might just end up spilling all your dirty little secrets to Katie here!”

  Something shifted, but I didn’t know what.

  A flicker of – not quite fear, but maybe alarm passed over Ian’s face.

  Bryce grinned smugly.

  And Vic just stood there smiling, waiting for an answer.

  Dirty little secrets?

  Now I was interested.

  “Who are you?” I asked Vic.

  He turned around like he’d been waiting for the question. “Vic Cortelian, King of Instagram. Ten billion followers.”

  I frowned. “That’s impossible. There are
only seven billion people on earth.”

  “I’m so awesome that little green dudes from other planets follow me, Katie!” He turned back to Ian. “You gotta come to my party, bro! I mean, ‘brah’!”

  “I can’t leave my board here,” Ian said.

  “Yeah you can!”

  “Somebody might steal it.”

  “I’ll have one of my guys take it to your house,” Vic offered.

  “Which one?” Bryce snorted.

  I looked over at him.

  ‘Which one?’

  What did THAT mean?

  Ian glared at Bryce, then turned back to Vic. “No thanks.”

  “Like you can’t afford to buy another one – ohhhh, wait, you’re playing a surfer – I got you covered, dude.” Vic reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills as fat around as a coffee mug, wrapped in a rubber band. My mouth about dropped open as he peeled off ten hundred-dollar bills and held them out to Ian. “Well? You gonna take my money, or what?”

  Ian waved the cash away.

  “What?” Vic asked. “I’m willing to play your little game as long as you play mine.”

  Ian’s face set in resigned disgust. “You’re not leaving until you get your way, are you.”

  “Nnnnnope!”

  Ian sighed and turned to me. “Want to go to a party on a yacht?”

  Actually, YES.

  But the way Ian was acting gave me pause.

  “…I guess?...”

  “Just so you know,” Ian said, looking straight at me, “this is not a good idea. You’re not going to enjoy yourself.”

  “Way to sell it, brah,” Vic said with a comically disapproving shake of his head.

  I shrugged. “We can leave whenever we want, right?”

  “I don’t know. Can we?” Ian asked Vic.

  “Of course you can!” the Bearded One exclaimed.

  Ian looked back at me. “It’s up to you.”

  He didn’t seem at all interested.

  I was hesitant, but Vic didn’t give up. “If you don’t say yes, Katie, you’re going to have to outrun me and lock yourself inside your house, at which point I’ll set up shop with a boom box on the sidewalk and throw a block party to annoy you.”

  I smiled. This guy was just too ridiculous. “Well, since I definitely don’t want that, why not?”