by JA Low
Not that I’m looking.
Who am I kidding? Of course, I am looking.
I am watching every sway of their hips, the bounce of their tits as they grab a couple of sun loungers next to ours. They haven’t noticed us yet as they’re absorbed in whatever they are talking about.
“Who’s up for a swim?” The gorgeous dark-haired beauty asks the group.
Pick me.
Me!
I watch in slow motion as if we are in an episode of Baywatch, as she pulls off her sarong. Fuck me dead! The tiniest—leave nothing to the imagination—bikini is exposed underneath. She has legs that go on for days, her ass is toned and pert as though she does a million squats per day. She’s lean but toned, she has a manageable size rack, more than enough for my hands, but she’s in proportion. I bet she’s a model. She looks like it.
“Fuck me,” Logan curses beside us.
Well, that most certainly pulled him out of his shell all of a sudden.
This catches the attention of the raven beauty with gorgeous jade-green eyes who peruse us unashamedly.
I think I like this girl.
She radiates confidence.
I mean, look at her, she knows she’s easily the most gorgeous woman here, not that her friends aren’t stunning, but the raven-haired beauty, there’s something about her that has my full attention.
“Well, hello there, boys,” she greets us as her friends settle themselves in beside us. She places a manicured hand on her hip, then arches a brow directly at us. “Are you enjoying the view?”
Fuck me dead, she’s forward.
This has me sitting up and taking notice. I’m not an ugly guy, I know that. I work out and look after myself. I do not lack in that department, but boy, I think this might be the first woman who will be a challenge.
But, I like a challenge.
I’m rarely challenged.
“Most certainly are,” I reply while letting my eyes roam over her gorgeous body. I’m not hiding the fact that I’m finding her extremely attractive. She gives me a sly smile, turning on her heel, and strutting toward the pool’s edge before diving in like a graceful swan.
“Who are you?”
“Chlo,” a brunette calls from the pool, pulling our attention toward a stunning blonde walking along the edge of the pool immersed with her phone.
Goddamn, she has a nice rack.
The blonde looks up and smiles at her friends in the pool then is back on her phone.
“Get off the phone. You know nothing good can come of it,” the dark-haired beauty tells her friend. The blonde waves her friend’s concern away as she furiously types something into her cell. I watch my dream girl’s face fall when her friend ignores her. My money is on the blonde having guy drama. No one is on their phone that much, not when there’s us sitting here, half-naked beside the pool. The number of women who have checked us out as they have passed is really unfair to the other men hanging around the pool.
Quick as a flash, Noah’s out of his lounge, catching the blonde as she trips over her feet.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
The blonde seems a little confused at how she has ended up with Noah wrapped around her.
“Oh… um… thanks.” Pulling herself out of his arms, she looks down. “Shit.” Bending, she picks up her smashed cell off of the ground—her hot friend did warn her.
“Told you no good would come from that phone,” my dream girl calls from the pool, telling her she was right. I like the way she thinks. She most definitely has my attention.
“Sorry, I’m not myself at the moment. Thank you. Thanks for saving my ass.” She shoves her broken cell phone into her bag.
“I don’t mind having a beautiful woman falling at my feet,” Noah flirtatiously jokes with the blonde. Interesting. Taking another look over her, yeah, she’s totally his type.
“Men,” the blonde grumbles sending daggers at Noah. She throws her bag down, then jumps into the pool with her friends.
Like I said, definitely man problems.
“Burn! That was an epic strikeout.” Bursting out laughing, I give my friend a good ribbing. Noah flips me off again, which only makes me laugh even harder at his epic strikeout.
“As hot as they are, we’re here to work,” Logan, the party pooper, states.
Ugh, internally, I groan at him.
How the fuck are these two twins?
They’re worlds apart.
“Shit!” Noah curses as the red wine spills all over his white shirt. I’m trying to hold in my laughter because this shit is funny.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waitress mumbles, almost in tears.
“It’s okay,” Noah tells her through gritted teeth.
To be fair, it wasn’t one hundred percent her fault. Some dickhead pushed past her, sending the contents all over Noah. “I’ll head back to my room and get changed.”
Once the waitress has left, I’m free to laugh, but Noah’s not amused.
“So, how’s my Lenna-bug going?” I question Logan.
Lenna is the head of Human Resources for The Stone Group. She’s been with us since the beginning. Logan has a thing for her, which makes it fun when I flirt with her. She has a boyfriend and isn’t my type. Lenna’s hot, but not for me. Logan takes a sip of his red wine, his jaw ticks with tension.
“She broke up with Justin.”
Well, this little tidbit of information has my attention.
“And?” I am hoping maybe he might finally give in to the five years of sexual fucking tension between them.
“I bought her Italian, we drank wine, and watched TV,” he says it so matter-of-factly, and with no real emotion. He’s like a fucking robot. The dude is messed up. Their dad committed suicide while they were in college, and their mom died from cancer years earlier. That’s scared both of them, but more so Logan. He’s so strict with his relationships, it has become almost clinical. Logan has this policy of never mixing business and pleasure, so much so that The Stone Group has one of the most stringent non-fraternization rules of any company I know of. Most of the employees ignore the rules, which is fine as long as Logan doesn’t find out because if he does, you’re gone.
“Nothing else happened. You didn’t offer to soothe her pain?”
Logan gives me the most disgusted death stare, but he’s fooling no one.
“No, I did not.”
“Missed opportunity, man.” I take a sip of my wine.
“I’m not like you, I don’t take advantage of women,” Logan tells me snidely.
Turning my head, I look at him. Logan can sometimes be a dick, actually most of the time, and I deal with it because it’s usually not directed at me.
“I have never taken advantage of a woman. Ever,” I say through gritted teeth. “Every single woman I’ve ever been with is because she wants to be. Most women who have broken up with their significant other just want revenge sex because that asshole had no idea what he was doing. I offer that comfort for them. They know with me they aren’t getting their happy ever after, but they are damn-well getting a good time. So, fuck you and the high horse you rode in on.”
Logan’s jaw ticks with fury. He grabs his glass of wine and throws it back in one long mouthful.
“Lenna’s a good girl. She’s nice, beautiful, and smart. Who wouldn’t want to have fun with that?” Knowing my question is going to piss him off, I ask it anyway.
“Lenna is a colleague and will be nothing more than that. So, drop it, will you?”
Yep, I’ve touched a nerve. Internally rubbing my hands together, this fucker has no idea what he wants. He should be so lucky if Lenna graces him with any advances, which she wouldn’t because she’s a fucking professional like Sir Dick’s a Lot over here. Still, if she did, he should be so fucking lucky because Lenna is a catch and probably the only woman who would put up with his intensity.
A while later, Noah comes back in with a smile on his face.
“Boys, we’re about to get company.”
3
Emma
Chloe ran into one of the hotties from the pool, the cute one who was attempting to flirt with her, and somehow, we are all off to dinner with them. Not going to say no to a free meal or drinks with some hot men. I’m hoping the giant hulk of a man is free and single. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he would be a good time. I bet he’s packing some heat downstairs with those big hands of his too.
“You must be Mr. Noah’s guests?” the maître d’ asks as we arrive at the restaurant. “Please follow me.” Leading us through the restaurant, past all dining guests, we continue down a hallway.
Where is this man taking us?
We reach the end where there’s an antique-style wooden door.
“This is your private dining room,” he informs us.
These guys are trying to impress. My friends will probably enjoy it, but me, that just makes me think they might be rich douches, and my shoulders sink a little with the thought. The door opens, and a tropical oasis is set out before us.
Okay, I take it back.
This is gorgeous.
I’m kind of glad we’re in this little rainforest glass cocoon. There’s a water feature to the side, a large wooden table runs down the center with purple orchids located in the middle. You look out the panoramic windows, and all around you is a sea of nature with bright lights in the gardens, illuminating the foliage.
“You made it,” Chloe’s guy, Noah, I’m assuming, greets her with a kiss on the cheek. He might be a gentleman, but the jury’s still out.
“This is gorgeous,” Chloe tells him.
“Thought it might be nicer in here.” He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed about the private room. It’s almost endearing. The guy is hot. Most have a sheen of arrogance surrounding them, but this guy doesn’t seem like he does. He might be the perfect guy for Chloe to have revenge sex with.
“Let me introduce you to the guys.”
Looking over at the table, we see another version of Noah sitting there, but he seems way more intense.
“We’re not identical,” Noah points out to Chloe, who looks a little confused.
“Exactly, I’m bigger.” Chuckling at his joke, I think, what a douche. “I’m Logan,” he introduces himself to us.
“And here is…”
The giant, who I had my eyes on by the pool, stands. He must be six foot six. His navy polo shirt is pulled tight across his broad chest, his blond hair is messy, and I wouldn’t mind running my fingers through the thick strands.
“I’m Anderson,” he introduces himself to Chloe, but I most definitely have his attention. His voice is deep and timbered.
God, the man is delicious.
“So, ladies, what brings you to the resort?”
“Girls’ trip,” Ariana answers.
“Aw… the almighty girls’ trip. So y’all single?” he asks.
Straight to the point. I like it.
“Yes, and ready to mingle.” Wiggling my eyebrows at him, making sure he knows that the mingling I want to do is with him.
“You’re going to be trouble, I can see it.” The giant chuckles but looks oh so very interested.
“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea how much.” Licking my lips, those ocean blue eyes widen as a grin falls across his lush lips.
Anderson pulls out the chair beside him and pats the cushion. “I think we are going to get on.”
Oh, yes, we are.
The night ends up being awesome, loads of wine, fabulous food, and honestly, the guys ended up being great company, not as douchey as I first thought, even the intense Logan guy became tolerable.
“I’m heading off back to my room.” Stella rises from her chair.
“What? No,” we all whine at her.
“I love you, girls, but I have an early morning conference call.”
“Boo,” Chloe hisses at her. She’s slightly drunk, which is a good thing. She looks like she’s having fun with this Noah guy.
“I think it might be time for us to get going anyway,” Noah tells us.
The waitstaff is hanging around, trying to clear up our mess. It’s late, they probably just want to go home, so we all get up and move outside.
“Who’s up for a party at my place? Anderson asks. “I’ve rented the penthouse.”
“Does it have alcohol?” I ask, looking over at him.
“Certainly does.” I can see the need blazing behind his turquoise eyes.
“Then, I’m in.” Linking arms with Anderson, we follow the path back to his penthouse. “So, the penthouse, hey?”
“Does that impress you?” he asks.
“Not, really.”
Logan and Ariana have disappeared up the path before us into the darkness.
He stops and looks at me. There’s slight confusion on his face.
“What?”
He’s looking at me strangely. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a woman say she’s not impressed by my penthouse?”
“Is that a euphemism for your dick?” I reply, giggling.
“Hell, no. That always impresses them,” he says cockily.
“See, that’s what impresses me, impressive dicks, not some fancy room.”
The tropical night air swirls around us, and it’s filled with sexual tension.
“You’re very forward for a woman.”
“That sounds awfully sexist there, big man.” Pointing my finger, I push it into his hard chest.
“Didn’t mean it to,” he tells me. “But, I like it.”
“Most men can’t handle me or my forwardness…” Testing him, I know it’s true. Men are intimated by how much I love sex. At first, they think it’s the best thing they have ever encountered, but they soon want me to be something I’m not.
“Amateurs.” Anderson looks down at me, then reaches out and cups my face. “They truly had no idea what they had in front of them.” His compliment throws me off. “Nothing is sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and doesn’t apologize for taking it.”
“You say that now, but most men grow tired of it.”
Anderson shakes his head. “I’m not like most men, Emma.” The next thing I know, his hand is wrapped around my throat, and he’s pulling me into the bushes.
Holy shit, that’s hot, a little terrifying but nonetheless hot.
He has me pushed up against a palm tree, the large foliage has us covered from the view of the path.
“I can feel your pulse against my hand.” He doesn’t remove it from my throat. “I can see it on your face that this is turning you on. That fine line between is he going to fuck me in the forest, or is he going hurt me?” Those intense turquoise eyes stare down at me as if trying to work me out. “If I placed a finger in your cunt, would it be wet?”
A man that uses the C-word during dirty talk—that’s my kind of guy.
“Why don’t you find out?” Widening my legs, Anderson bites his bottom lip. He’s curious about me. Thankfully, I’m wearing an extremely short red dress with no panties, and I can’t wait for him to discover that. He slowly moves his other hand and places it between my legs. His finger slides intently between my folds, his eyes widening when he realizes there is no barrier there.
“Are you telling me you were sitting there bare all night when I could have been fingering you under the table.” His deep voice sends a shiver over my body.
“I didn’t realize that was on the cards. Otherwise, I would have.”
Anderson’s finger runs between my wet folds until he finally sinks into me. Yes. Closing my eyes for a couple of moments, I absorb the feel of him. His finger begins to move inside of me, searching for the perfect spot.
“You’re so wet, Emma.” His voice is husky with need. He still has one hand wrapped around my neck while his finger continues to pump inside of me—slowly, intensely—this man is in no hurry. He’s learning every whimper that falls from my lips, he’s committing it to memory, and a twist of his hand makes me moan. This man knows exactly what he’s do
ing, and all I can think about is that it’s going to be fun.
4
Anderson
This woman cannot be real?
It’s like God, no, the devil, has sent this intoxicating beauty to me, giving me everything I want in a woman, all wrapped up in one neat little package. This raven-haired woman with jade-green eyes that pull you into her, and her gorgeous body, long legs, great ass is every man’s dream girl.
She’s an ex-model, which isn’t surprising at all. Then behind it all is a woman who looks like sexually, she could keep up with me, and I’m not talking about the run of the mill vanilla one-night-stand crap. No. The way her eyes lit up when I wrapped my hand around her neck and hauled her away into the rainforest, most women would have been running for the hills, but not this one. Instead, she spread her legs like a good little girl, like a fucking wet dream.
If I’d have known she was bare under that dress, my fingers would have been in her all night. I feel like we wasted enough time having polite conversation around the dinner table with our friends when I could have had her screaming in my ear.
I sink another finger into her. I have big hands with thick fingers that stretch a woman’s pussy, or so I’ve been told. Emma takes the second intrusion with a smirk on her face. Her cheeks have become a gorgeous blush pink, her teeth have sunk into her bright red lips as I continuously move inside her.
She hasn’t asked me to take my hand away from her throat either, her pulse has steadied, and now it’s a continuous thump against my palm.
I can hear people walking along the path behind us. If they looked closely, they would see us. We aren’t camouflaged all that well. Emma hears them too, and I swear she becomes wetter with the thought that we might be discovered.
“Does that turn you on, little one? Knowing someone could find us at any moment?”
“Yes,” she pants her answer.
Fuck me.
“Do you like people watching you come?”
“Yes.”
Oh, so she’s a bit of an exhibitionist, which, to be fair, probably isn’t much of a surprise. She did say she was a professional model. Being naked in front of strangers is commonplace in that industry.
