by Kim Karr
Excited to be driving my first automobile, I hop into my bright blue Jeep. I had narrowed it down to either the two-door Jeep, smaller than Cam’s, or a Ford Focus. Horrified at the idea of me driving anything but a car without a roof in a beach town, Cam talked me into the Jeep. The color wasn’t his favorite. Girly. Bold. It suited the new me perfectly.
Stopping at the only sandwich shop in Laguna Beach that offers more than gluten-free bread, I order two ham-and-Swiss-on-whole-wheat sandwiches, a bag of veggie chips (because they didn’t offer real potato chips), and two waters. Painting a smile on my face while still dwelling on what he was going to do with that present, I head to the beach. Once I park my car, I go in search of him, trying not to think about the kind of sex life he had with Vanessa. Whereas Sebastian and I were vanilla all the way, were he and Megan with a B chocolate?
Oh, God, I’m stressing.
His shirt off and foot propped up, I spot his long, lean body immediately. He’s standing outside the main lifeguard tower, which strangely enough is not used as a tower anymore because of its age. Yet it remains firmly planted on Laguna because it is iconic. At least that is what Cam has told me.
From afar, I watch him stretch and move. Always fascinated by the lines of his body and its dips and hollows, I wonder if I freeze right here, how long I can watch him before he looks my way.
Within seconds, he turns my way with a smile so wide and bright and genuine that I want to kiss his face off. I want to run my hands through that mess of his hair and smooth my fingertips over those brows and trace the curves of his ears with my tongue. I want to eat him up like the juiciest of apples and let him drip down my hand, my wrist, my arm, and then lick him all up.
Instead, Megan with B is all I can see, that image from the night in the club when she licked him all up, and all I can muster is the barest hint of a smile. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He scoops me up and twirls me around, ignoring or not noticing my standoffish behavior.
“You look…great,” he says as he lowers me to the ground.
I don’t respond. I look at the picnic basket I packed in my hand instead, though honestly, I don’t care if we eat at all.
“I snagged us a cabana for the next hour,” he tells me, pointing to one about five huts over.
The solicitous hand at the small of my back as he takes the basket from me makes my knees go weak.
“So I had this kid near my tower this morning who kept pretending to drown…”
Telling each other about our days is always something I look forward to, but right now all the words seem to blend together. Step-by-step, side-by-side in the sand, I feel like I might burst if I don’t ask him about what I saw.
Inside the cabana there is a television, a couch, a couple of chairs, and a minibar. It’s pretty nice, I have to say. Cam sets the basket on a table in front of the couch and turns to me with a frown. “Are you mad at me?”
“Should I be?” I press my lips together and rub my tongue slowly on the inside of my teeth to keep my voice low.
“Let’s see, as far as I know, nothing has happened since I ate you for breakfast,” he says, taking my arms with his rough, callused hands and making me shiver.
That hint of a smile on my lips makes me angrier. Why does he always do that to me—make me laugh in any situation, even when I don’t want to?
“Are you on the rag?” he asks. “Because if you are, you could have warned me. PMS sometimes turns women into another being. My sister is always a real bitch during that time, so I know how to deal with it.”
My mouth falls open and the words just fly out. “No, I do not have my period. But did you know how to deal with Vanessa when she was on the rag?”
He blinks a few times and then I think it hits him. “You looked in the box on my kitchen table, didn’t you?”
I shrug. “I might have.”
He laughs. He actually laughs.
I want to punch him. Instead I step back.
Cam grabs me and holds me tight. “Vanessa has been sending me sex toys since I moved here, like her being provocative would woo me.”
“And what, you hold on to them?”
He laughs again. “No; in the past, I’d find a girl and use them with her—you know, as a ‘fuck you’ to Vanessa. But this time, I was just going to throw it away until Brooklyn stopped me. He wanted it to play some joke on his friend Sasha.”
My whole body relaxes. “Oh,” is all I can say.
That laughter takes over the small space and he pulls me flush to his body. “Are you jealous?”
I push away. “No, should I be?”
Unwavering, he tugs me back. “No, I only want you,” he whispers in my ear as he licks around it. “I won’t even be seeing her this week since my sister can’t stand her. But even if I do, you have nothing to worry about.”
Cam’s confession fills me and I feel stupid for being jealous over a woman who hurt him so badly. “I’m sorry,” I offer, “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
His lips find mine. “Baby, green suits you, but if you’re feeling guilty, I think I can come up with a good way for you to make it up to me.”
Dying to hear this, I lean back. “And what would that be?”
He winks at me. “How about we talk about it after lunch.” And then he opens the picnic basket.
Once the food is set out, we sit beside each other on the couch and go about eating. I unwrap my sandwich and shake a little mustard pack on it. Cam watches me with keen interest. I give him a smile, and he licks his lips before he starts chewing his sandwich. I sip my water. Swallow. He takes a bite of a chip and makes a face. That breaks our comfortable silence.
“They taste like cardboard,” he says.
“I know. But it was either that or kale salad.”
He shivers and takes another bite. “I’ll stick with the cardboard.”
After that, things return to normal between us and I tell him about my morning. Slight detour, but we’re back on track.
We finish our food and Cam grabs the book. “Book club time.” He grins and stretches out on the cushion that isn’t exactly as soft as a couch, but better than the sand we laid on last week when we did this. It’s taking a while to finish this book because we keep getting distracted.
I squeeze in between him and the back of the outdoor furniture and rest my chin on his bare chest. Unable to stop myself, my gaze lowers to his body. To his abs, which are smooth and so ripped I have to trace the indentations with a finger. His legs are solid muscle, and I push one of my legs between his just to feel his strength against me.
My eyes lifts to his nipple right beside me and I think about how much he likes it when I bite him there, then to his tan neck, thick and strong, his Adam’s apple sexy as he speaks in that deep voice.
“Makayla.” He slaps my ass.
I meet his gray gaze.
“You ready?” He laughs as if knowing exactly what I’m thinking.
“Ready.” I smile up at him and close my eyes.
With his arm outstretched and the book over our bodies, that caramel voice is clear and loud. “‘It was midsummer. The halfway mark. Summer lay in the center of her bed, looking at both men. She knew their bodies as well as she knew her own. Gabe was taller than Owen and had ink on his pale skin, whereas Owen was tan and had none. Gabe had come to Summer with nipple rings, and his recent gift to her of a piercing on his cock brought endless pleasure.’” Cam pauses.
Smoothing my hand on his warm chest, I look up at him. “You’re still hung up on that, aren’t you?”
He shifts a little, causing my body to cover more of his. “That piercing. I just can’t even think about it. It has to hurt like a motherfucker.”
I can’t stop touching him, circling my fingers around his nipples. “He did it for her. For her pleasure. I think it’s romantic.”
His head jerks down. “I don’t know. Flowers would be just as romantic, and way less painful.”
I pinch his nipple
hard. “Just keep reading.”
“Ouch,” he says. “Do that again. I can take the pain in the name of romance.”
That laugh sends shivers through my body. “Keep reading, Romeo.”
“Okay, okay. ‘Summer looked down at Gabe and Owen with gratitude. They knew her body as well as she knew theirs. They knew what she liked and what she didn’t. How to please her. Summer raised herself to her elbows to see the two sets of eyes upon her. Two men licking her cunt, stroking her, fucking her with their fingers, bringing her to the edge of pure, undiluted pleasure. Abruptly, Gabe stopped his ministrations and told her to sit up. She tolerated the command only because she knew oblivion would soon be hers.’” Cam stops and runs his hand down my ponytail.
I grow hotter at his caress.
With his eyes burning into mine, he says, “Gabe is obviously the alpha, so why does he continue to share her with Owen? Why not kick him to the curb?”
Sweat warms us and practically melds our bodies together. With the air between us practically crackling, I answer him. “Because Owen gives her what Gabe doesn’t—tenderness.”
His strong shoulders, muscled biceps, and hard, sculpted six-pack are suddenly all I can see as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Why can’t one man be enough?”
I watch a drip of sweat trickle down his washboard abs. “I think for most, one is,” I say, and wonder if he’s thinking about why Vanessa cheated on him.
Cam tugs on my ponytail a little forcefully. “Do you think I have a little Gabe and a little Owen in me?”
I look into his needy, hot gaze. “Yes, I think you do, and you’re more than enough for me,” I reassure him.
Puffing his chest, he laughs. “That sounded a lot like I was fishing. Please forget I even asked you that.”
My fingertips trail over the top of his thigh, and I bend to kiss his chest. “I will not. I rather like the thought of being a little good and a little bad.”
He shakes his head. “You, Makayla Alexander, never cease to amaze me with what you say.”
A small lick around his nipple makes my own poke against the cotton of my dress. “Good. Then I know I can always keep you guessing.”
With a laugh, Cam settles his gaze on the book. “‘Summer moved to the side of the bed and placed both feet on the floor. Gabe had expended his short-lived control and ran a hand up her thigh to swipe a finger across her wet pussy. Her body reacted with the slightest of shivers and he smiled deviously. Owen slid around behind her, straddling her back and pulling her to rest against this chest. He was always the sweet one, the gentle one. Gabe settled between Summer’s legs and put his hands roughly on her hips. Summer’s heart pounded as Owen clasped his arms around her ribs just below her breasts. Gabe shifted on his feet and gripped his cock at the base, guiding it to her opening and pushing inside her. In one quick thrust, he pushed inside her to the hilt. The metal piercing causing a sensation of pleasure to ripple through her.’”
Neither one of us comments, both entranced by the activities of these three.
“‘With Owen behind her, Gabe fucked her slowly for a few strokes, then hooked his hands beneath her knees, bending them, pushing her harder against Owen and deepening the angle. Summer cried out as he pumped inside her and then he stopped, giving just enough time for Owen to lift her and lower her back down. His body shifted so he could enter her from behind, and together the three of them rocked. Skin slapped and sucked. Someone moaned. Another groaned. Pleasure struck so fiercely, it left all three of them breathless. Owen was the first to come. Slick heat spurted from behind Summer. Gabe thrust inside her one more time with a shout, and then he, too, came. Summer had started coming long ago, and was now lost to the depths of oblivion.’” Cam slams the book closed and pulls me fully on top of him.
I peek up at him from under my lashes.
His eyes blaze down at me.
With the feel of his erection hot and thick against my belly, I dig my chin sharply into his chest and gaze at him, squirming a little. “Hey, big boy, did you get a little turned on there?”
Abruptly, Cam sits up, scooting me to sit beside him. “I would never, ever share you with another guy.”
“I…I would never want that.”
Standing, he tugs me to my feet. “Good. Then yes, I’m really turned on and only have twenty minutes before I have to get back to work. Come with me.”
Trailing behind him, I find it hard to keep up with him as my flip-flops keep getting stuck in the sand.
I have no idea where we are going.
But really, it’s not like I wouldn’t follow him anywhere.
Anywhere.
20
Seeing Stars
Cam
Planning to have sex on the beach takes all the spontaneity right out of the fun.
That’s why Makayla and I have yet to do it. Also, the patrols down the beach at night deter any wrongdoers and since I’m part of those patrols, getting caught would mean a lot of heckling.
Yet, there is a place that would check number three off Makayla’s list and allow our extreme pent-up sexual needs to be eased. Besides, waiting until after work to get inside her would be a bitch after the scene I just read.
The tower looks more like it belongs to a medieval castle than an Orange County beach city. In a place that values the newest and the latest, the lifeguard tower remains standing because it is iconic. Inspiring, they say. It represents the growth of the city and the need to expand the lifeguard force. It represents change. What it really means is someone paid a shit-ton of cash to keep it here.
The hexagonal building remains unused and locked. Lucky for me, I have a key. With people, benches, volleyball nets, and the American flag all close by, I hurry past them and unlock the door, discreetly pulling Makayla inside and locking the door before anybody notices.
I’ve been here a few times, not to fuck, but to make sure no one has gotten in. People like to pick the lock and go inside for a quickie. This is one of those places that got Laguna named the best place to have sex on the beach. The tower, along with Shaws Cove, Moss Point, and the Thousand Steps Cave, is prime real estate for those who prefer hiking up skirts to collecting seashells.
Inside is an old desk, worn from years of use, and nothing else. The space was stripped of all lifeguard supplies years ago. It’s hot and musty, but functional nonetheless.
The windows down below are so dirty, no one can see inside, yet up above in the tower, the sun shines through them bold and bright.
Makayla has her back to me.
“This is the last item on your list, Makayla,” I tell her.
“It is,” she laughs and goes on to recite the list:
Wear a bikini ✓
Have sex with someone you don’t know ✓
Fuck on the beach—will be completed soon!
Join the Mile High Club ✓
Get drunk and let someone else worry how you’re going to get home ✓
Give a guy the best blow job of his life and make sure he knows it ✓
Get a vibrator ✓
Don’t plan your day for the next thirty days
Take a nude selfie ✓
Read an erotic romance novel in public ✓
I laugh too. I think I know each item by heart as well. I’m happy for her. Not that I think it will change her in the least, but then again, I like who she is and how she is. But it makes her feel like she’s accomplished something, and I get it.
She turns around. “Is it safe in here?”
Playing with her, I allow my gaze to the circle the area filled with nothing but walls, and laugh. “I don’t think there are zombies hiding anywhere, unless we’ve entered an apocalypse in the last thirty minutes that I’m unaware of.”
“No, I mean clean? Germ-free?”
Stalking toward her zombie-style, I grab hold of her and pretend to bite her neck, and then I whisper in her ear, “I know what you mean, Makayla. Not to worry, baby, I’ll bend you over the desk so you don’t have
to worry about the dirt on the floor.”
She throws her head back. “Stop with the Walking Dead crap. It’s creepy.”
I push myself up against her body and move her back. “Not until I get you to watch it with Maggie and me.”
“Never,” she moans.
I have her against the old desk. “Never say never.”
Her hands go to anchor herself and she leans back.
I yank her top down to expose those breasts; I knew they’d be bare. The sweat is warm on her breasts, and delicious, and then my palms travel up her long, smooth legs, bringing her dress with me. Something strange is happening between us. I can’t stop touching her, no matter where we are. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel this way. Happy.
“You’re smiling.” Makayla looks at me from beneath hooded eyes. “Want to let me in on it?”
“A Yankees doubleheader, March Madness, overtime during the Frozen Four hockey finals, the Jets winning the Super Bowl.”
Makayla rocks her hips ever so slightly. “Huh?”
“Things that make me happy.” I grin as she ponders my crazy-ass comment and clash my mouth to hers. “You,” I add.
Teeth crash and as our bodies mold to each other, I take the kiss all the way. Deep. So deep, my head spins at the taste of her.
Everything about us is hands and mouths.
My hands are on her breasts, cupping them, fondling them, playing with the small handfuls. When she moans, I find her nipples, already hard for me, and roughly roll them between my thumb and forefinger.
Her mouth is on my throat and her responding bite is a little hard. I can’t stop from hissing. She doesn’t seem to mind the sound and licks the sting away. I wouldn’t mind if she did it again.
Laughing, I stare down at her. “Zombie bites don’t scare me.”
She’s breathing hard. “I want you.”
I yank her up and turn her around. “You got me, baby, you got me.”
A dizzying, gasp-like sound escapes her throat.
“Hold on,” I tell her.
She grips the edge of the desk, which is only about six inches from the wall, just enough for her to hold onto.
