The Men of Laguna

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The Men of Laguna Page 16

by Kim Karr


  Now, my laughter can’t be contained. Yep, Summer is going for prostate gland stimulation.

  Suddenly, Cam pauses.

  I look over at him.

  “Oh Jesus Christ, if this is going where I think it’s going, that would be another big fat no. My ass is seizing up just thinking about what she’s about to do.”

  “Come on, Cam, live a little—no harm in experimenting,” I say with an elbow nudge.

  “Okay, good girl, I will have to remember to remind you of your words next time we get together and I break out the lube and glass dildo.”

  My girl parts should be seizing up, too. They aren’t. Just the fact that he thinks there will be a next time makes me a little excited. And I wonder if he really does have a glass dildo… “Shut up and read, Cam.”

  “I got you thinking,” he says, and goes on. “‘Gabe was still kneeling and could see everything from his position. Summer gave his rope a tug as she walked by. She had set the scene this way. She wanted Gabe to see her as she straddled Owen’s thighs. See her ease the plug inside Owen, see the way the curve pointed upward toward his belly. The base had a ring on it for rocking back and forth. Summer gave Owen a nod, allowing him to vocalize his pleasure, and then tugged on the ring once. He cried out in lustful moans and his cock thrust upward into empty air. Summer shifted. It wasn’t his turn just yet. She did, however, lead Owen’s hand to the ring and left him to use the plug for his own pleasure. He knew his cock would get attention soon and for now, he was fine with his present. Summer turned to Gabe and got on her knees in front of him. She called him a very bad boy. He grinned. She liked it when he grinned like that. Then she bent to lick the pre-cum off his erection. Once, twice, three times. Restraint didn’t come easy for Gabe, but he wanted her mouth around him more than he cared about anything else.’”

  Right now the tingling between my thighs is so severe, I know if I had that vibrator, it would only need to be turned on for a second and I’d come.

  Cam stops and wipes the sweat from his brow.

  I can’t help but look up at him and stare at the sexy stubble so close to my mouth that I’d love to lick my tongue over it.

  As if hearing my dirty thoughts, he scrubs at his jaw before he continues. “‘Summer never left anyone out and she wasn’t about to start. Both men were not allowed to fuck her pussy in the same night. She had her reasons. Reward and punishment—maybe. Maybe not. Untying Gabe, she tugged on his nipple ring and led him to the bed. After the day they’d had, she was hot for them both tonight. She gave Owen a choice. He could leave the plug in and she’d make him come with her mouth or he could remove it and use it for himself in the morning before returning it to her. Normally masturbation and orgasms were allowed only in her presence, but this was his gift. He chose to remove it. He knew tonight would bring a pleasure he couldn’t pass up. Very soon, Summer had a man in front of her and one behind her.’”

  That makes Cam stop reading.

  He’s breathing heavily.

  So am I.

  My eyes drop to his mouth.

  Arousal shoots through me, and I glance away quickly, afraid he’ll catch sight of my desire. When I feel a little more composed, I turn back and find his eyes trained on my lips.

  Noticing he’s been caught, he switches his stare back to the book.

  My mouth parts at the thought of his lips touching mine. At the many kisses we shared and how good they were. And at the memory of the things we did to each other’s bodies.

  Cam’s gaze rises to return to mine. “Okay, time for a break. What do you say we hit the water? Preferably really cold water.”

  Unable to be close to him for another minute, I hurry to my feet, so full of lust that I worry I might leap on top of him at any moment. My voice is hoarse and weak when I grab my iPod and tell him no, that I can’t. That I have to go.

  “Wait,” he calls, lifting the book.

  “Keep it,” I tell him. “We’ll finish another time.”

  “Makayla,” he calls, chasing after me.

  I stop just before my feet hit the sand.

  “Go out with me tonight.”

  Every bone in my body wants to say yes. “I can’t. I have plans with Maggie and some of her friends to go to the Underground. You could come?” I suggest.

  He shakes his head. “I hate clubs. I try to avoid them whenever I can. It’s bad enough when I’m in New York and my best friend drags me out. But how about tomorrow night?”

  I lower my gaze, kicking myself for suggesting he come tonight only to have him blow me off. Deciding that keeping things between us the way they are is probably best. “I’m not sure what my plans are yet.”

  He bends sideways until he meets my gaze with his.

  I laugh out loud. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you look at me.”

  To straighten him up, I physically place my hands on his sides to move him. As soon as my palms touch his bare skin, electricity courses through my body. This is too much. The temptation is so bad. Quickly, I move him to an upright position and drop my hold.

  “Okay, I am. Now what?” I ask him.

  He tips my chin to look at him and I think of the way Summer tilted Gabe’s head. His touch is much gentler, though. Just the same, the touch is sizzling and too much to bear. “I want to take you out. I want a chance to explain myself to you. I owe you that much,” he tells me, sounding one hundred percent sincere.

  Sincerity isn’t what I need. I shake my head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Cam, you don’t.”

  “Makayla, I do.”

  “Cam, stop it. Let’s let it go and be friends.”

  He steps closer to me. “I don’t think I can do that.”

  With a low laugh, I step back. “It’s not just up to you,” I tell him and walk away.

  Hope that wasn’t too bitchy. I really am working on it.

  “Makayla, just talk to me.”

  I can’t do that. I already had one week of wondering what the hell happened. I really shouldn’t put myself through another. Not right now. Not when I’m trying to get my life together. He’s obviously full of regrets and confusion. Neither is something I need in my life right now. Yet, in a way, I wonder if it is.

  “I’m not giving up,” he calls.

  I can’t help but smirk to myself.

  Really, I’m not trying to play hard-to-get.

  Shaking my ass, I keep moving. I know just where I’m headed. To get that damned vibrator I tucked under the lounge cushion and hope to God this time it works for me.

  I glance back.

  Sure enough, his eyes are glued to my swaying behind.

  If he wants me, he’ll show up tonight.

  And we’ll take it from there.

  Or we won’t.

  16

  She Wore It for Her

  Cam

  Clubs have never really been my thing.

  For many reasons. First and foremost, they were my brother’s thing.

  So when I walk into the Underground, clean shaven and somewhat dressed up in my black jeans and white button-down, I thank fuck it’s not karaoke night.

  A DJ is spinning tunes, or whatever it is they do. Dance music is blasting through the large open space. Like everything in Laguna, this place has a cool, relaxed vibe. I rather dig the California lifestyle. It’s a “make love, not war” type of place. Drink, talk, and fuck is the New York way to say it, though. Same thing, just not as politically correct, I suppose.

  The large space is lit in lines of blue and green. There’s a shit-ton of people in here. Most of them dancing. Some of them talking at high-top tables. Others flirting at the bar. No one is going home alone, that’s for sure.

  I push my way through the pulsating throng of people and toward the bar. “Corona with a lime,” I mouth to the bartender and take a seat. He nods and melts away into the cries of the other thirsty customers. My eyes adjust to the darkness as I lo
ok around. Bright lights from the neon signs on the wall illuminate the faces in the crowd, but I don’t see her anywhere. There is a floor above us where I can see feet moving and a floor directly below us where I can see the tops of people’s bopping heads. Three dance floors is a lot of moving bodies.

  Soon, the bartender returns with my beer. Once I’ve paid him, I push off the stool and go in search of Makayla.

  Sipping my beer, I take my time moving through the bar. Spotting no one from our patrol, I head down the stairs. No one I recognize down here, either. I start to wonder if they changed their plans.

  That would fucking suck.

  As soon as I hit the top floor, a crown of blond hair in the center of the dance floor attracts my attention. Plans were not changed. It’s Maggie dancing like a disco queen. Dressed in orange leather shorts and a white frilly see-through top, she stands a head above everyone. Derek is bumping and grinding behind her and I have to look away. You see, Maggie is like a sister to me, and watching her with a guy like that makes me cringe. Here’s the thing: I like Derek; I just don’t trust him.

  The whole surfer-vibe thing attracts a lot of chicks, and every time I see him, he’s wallowing in the attention. Not saying that’s not okay, because according to Maggie, they haven’t put a label on their relationship. Hey, if she’s cool with it, so am I.

  As my gaze darts away from the pair, it lands right on Makayla, who is doing a spin on the floor with Kurt, one of the guys from the patrol.

  Holy fuck.

  Holy fuck.

  Holy fuck.

  Could she get any hotter?

  In a tight red dress, she’s moving to the beat. All I can do is stare. I consider rubbing the drool off my chin when I see that her outfit is backless. Actually, there is not much to her dress at all. Spaghetti straps hold the fabric up, and those same straps jet all the way down to the curve of her spine. No way is she wearing a bra. Can’t say why, but I love that about her. It’s such a turn-on.

  Equally as sexy is her long hair. It’s down, and the waves move along with her. Once she stops spinning, she lifts her hair off her neck as if overheated and she needs to cool herself.

  I’d love to help her with that. Thoughts of slipping those straps down and licking the sweat from her shoulders come to mind. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s got me all twisted up in a way I can’t explain. And then it occurs to me that I have no idea what I’m doing here.

  Stay or go.

  Stay or go.

  What the hell should I do?

  “Never back down” has always been my motto, so why change it now?

  Looking at her again, she’s stopped spinning, but I haven’t. Still struck stupid from the sight of her, it takes me a moment to compose myself. Once I do, I down the rest of my beer, place the empty on a table nearby, and step foot onto the dance floor.

  Kurt now has his hands on her hips, and at least it’s loud in here so no one can hear my growl.

  As if sensing my presence, her head darts in my direction.

  Although her face remains stoic, her body responds instantly to seeing me. Her hardening nipples that start sprouting through her tight dress aren’t the only sign, either. The goose bumps on her arms also tell me what I already know—that she feels that same pull of attraction I do whenever we’re together. There’s no sense in either of us trying to deny it. It’s there. Front and center. Sparks and all. Who would have ever thought I’d actually think cosmic reaction is reality?

  “Hey,” I say to Makayla.

  Her eyes wide, she snakes her tongue out to slide along her lips. “Cam.” Her voice is a squeak.

  For the sake of niceties, I turn to Kurt. “Hey man, mind if I cut in?”

  I can honestly say I’ve never said those words before.

  Kurt responds with a chipper, “No, not at all, but this is the last place I expected to see you. You never come out with us on dance club nights.”

  Making myself part of their twosome, I try not to think of it as a threesome. He needs to get lost, and soon. “Yeah, I know. I usually only go out when there’s a pool table involved, but I couldn’t help myself tonight.”

  I let my gaze wander to Makayla and I drink in the sight of her so close, all the way from the top of her head to the tip of her high-heeled sandals.

  Fucking hot.

  Perhaps noticing the steaming heat between us, Kurt says nothing more and turns to dance with someone else from the patrol. It’s like he’d be happy with whomever. Good for him.

  Now it’s just Makayla and me on the dance floor. She keeps moving. I remain still. Staring. Admiring. Fucking yearning. Breathing hard. Heart pounding. Cock raring to go. Down boy. Down. I have some groveling to do first. Not sure it’s even going to work.

  “So,” I yell over the music, “I forgot to ask you earlier, but did you take the job?”

  She shakes her head. “It wasn’t right for me. You were right. He wasn’t going to be around. He only wanted a manager.”

  Still standing there, unmoving, I nod. “You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

  Who knows, maybe I will too.

  Continuing to move, she leans closer. “Are you going to dance, or what?”

  “I don’t dance,” I tell her, my eyes on those small nubs protruding from her dress. God, I want to suck on them so badly.

  With a shrug, she says, “Suit yourself,” and then turns around to dance with whoever is standing close by, just like Kurt did.

  Wait one minute!

  The song changes and even more people start wiggling, bouncing, moving to the beat.

  She doesn’t turn around, either.

  She wins.

  She fucking wins.

  Unable to stop myself from making a move, I put my hands on her hips and push myself up against her back. She melts into my touch and allows me to shift our bodies so she is no longer part of any other group.

  I’m not sure you can call what we are doing dancing. To me it feels more like fucking with our clothes on.

  Pushing her hair to the side, I kiss her shoulder.

  She twists, and with a gasp whispers, “I thought you didn’t know how to dance?”

  Licking up her neck, I find her ear. “I said I don’t dance; it doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

  “Oh.” The small noise she makes in response causes heat to flare throughout my body.

  Turning her to face me, in one step, I draw her close. Two steps, my hands go to her waist, and they feel like they were made to match her curves. Three steps, and I slide my thigh between hers.

  Makayla anchors herself with her hands on my shoulders and then looks up at me with those hazel eyes that again are unshuttered, but this time instead of running, I find myself getting lost in them.

  The bass thumps on and on and we move together. When my hands slide down to her hips, hers rise and circle my neck.

  It’s been a long time since I gazed into someone’s eyes and let her see me, and the enormity of this, of me opening myself for her to see, feels right. Feels like it’s time to take a step out of the fiery pit of hell I’ve been in.

  Dancing to a song I don’t even know, I let the music’s sensual beat guide me.

  She feels so good in my arms.

  I slide my hands up her bare back to tangle in her hair.

  She tips her head, baring her throat to me, and the only thing I can do is bend down to slide my lips along her soft skin. Makayla shivers under my touch and I draw her even closer.

  Bodies all around us are pressing together too, but when my cock presses hard against her belly, all of this becomes too much. Finding her neck, I kiss up it and whisper in her ear, “What do you say we go back to my place and dance?”

  Pulling back, she stares at me for the longest time, and then smirks. “What? Horizontally, with no clothes on?”

  With a wink, I say, “That hadn’t crossed my mind, but if you insist.”

  “Liar.” She smiles.

  Grazing my hand across h
er ass, I kiss her neck again. “Well, I might have been lying a little, but seriously, I do really want to talk to you.”

  She runs her hands down my sides suggestively. “Aren’t you of the school of thought that believes talking is overrated?”

  “I subscribe to my own philosophy. There’s a time to talk…and a time to fuck.”

  Stepping back, she keels over in laughter.

  “What is so funny?” I ask.

  Sucking in a breath to control herself, she says, “Are you trying to quote Kevin Bacon from Footloose? Because if you are, he says, ‘There’s a time to laugh…and a time to weep, a time to mourn…and there is a time to dance.’”

  Laughing now too, I hook my arm around her. “That’s right, ‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner.’”

  She slugs me with her arm. “Wrong movie. That’s Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.”

  “Don’t dance, don’t watch dance movies, remember?”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “You’re right,” I tell her and mean it.

  Her smile doesn’t fade.

  With that, I tug her off the dance floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Just as we reach the stairs, we pass Maggie, who stops me in my tracks. It’s nearly impossible to hear anything above the music, so she whispers in my ear, “Makayla isn’t your typical beach bunny, so please be careful with her.”

  I nod in understanding and give Maggie a quick peck on the cheek and tell her I’m taking Makayla home.

  On the way to my Jeep, I find a spot that overlooks the cliff and tug Makayla over there. I take a seat on the railing. Makayla remains standing and looks at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “You look great,” I tell her.

  Her hair blows in the wind. “Thanks, but don’t think I wore this dress for you.”

  I smirk at her. “Right. I guess not, since I told you I wasn’t coming, and all.”

  She stares at me. “I wore it for me.”

  “Yeah, well, I still think you look great.”

  Makayla shifts her eyes my way but says nothing more.

  At first I find myself looking away, but then I turn my head to meet her gaze. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

 

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