Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) (3 page)

It bleeped red.
“Crap.”

She slid it in
again, this time slowly, forcing her hand to stay steady. Green. “Thank God.”

Anjelee burst
into the cool, tiled room. She tossed the key on the dresser and paced back and
forth between the king-sized bed and the French doors. Their luxurious suite
overlooked the breathtaking expanse of the aqua, Caribbean Sea, but both the
room and the view went unnoticed. All she could think about was Jager standing
there magnificently naked with that I’m-going-to-nail-you gleam in his eyes.
What the hell should she do?

“Yep. There’s
only one choice. Leave.”

She dragged her
suitcase out from under the raised bed, ripped off the cover-up and dug for
something more appropriate for travel. She found a floral, t-back top and set
it aside on the bed, then drew out a pair of jeans and pitched them up on the
mattress along with the shirt. Panicked, she rushed around the room in nothing
but the
sarong,
scooping up anything she could get her
hands on. She hurled shoes in the suitcase mixed in with all her slut-wear and
the many slinky dresses she’d brought for the resort’s nightlife disco parties.
To that she piled on g-string swimsuits, skimpy boy-shorts,
toiletries
,
anything her shaking hands could grab hold of.

“Maybe go hide
in some remote corner of some godforsaken, fifth-world country no one’s even
heard of. For the rest of my shitting life.”

Something
rattled across the room in the vicinity of the next room. Her head snapped up
on a gasp. She clutched the bag of sex toys she’d been about to pack, pressed
them to her bare breasts and stumbled to her feet. Goddamn it, her legs felt
like rubber.

Her gaze honed
in on the jiggling knob of the door that separated their suite from the next
one. All the keys here were plastic cards...except for those that went with the
doors between suites. They were there in the event guests desired connecting
rooms to enlarge their space, or to offer more seclusion for multiple couples
who wanted to mingle and interact privately—sexually—among
themselves.

But Anjelee and
Keefer didn’t know the people on either side of them, so that damn door should
stay locked.

Could it be that
asshole, Jager, or was a stranger trying to break into her room? Great, just
what she needed at a critical time like this.

The knob jiggled
again.

She stifled a
scream and gripped the bag as if it would protect her from the devil himself.
She backed up and reached for the phone’s receiver, brought it shakily to her
ear and tried to recall the number to the front desk. Was it one, zero, what?

The door swung
open and crashed against the wall. Anjelee shrieked. Why she dropped the phone
instead of the toys, she didn’t know, but it clattered to the tile floor and
out of reach beneath the bed.

Speak of the
fucking devil.

“Jager.”

“Calling someone
to come and help you escape?”

He planted his
sparsely furred, muscular legs apart and crossed his arms over his chest. And
doinking bugs alive, he was still nude. She tried to avert her stare, but there
was no ignoring that half-erect, long cock jutting out from the nest of brown
curls. Her pulse had been racing out of fear, but of all idiotic things, it
suddenly went into turned-on mode.

Damn it.

“What do you
think you’re doing here?”

He strolled into
the room and lounged back on the bed right in front of her. Holy foley, did he
ever look magnificent and
virile.
And apparently, based
on his hardening cock, the prick was getting off on this chase.

“Keeping an eye
on you so you don’t fly the coop, of course.”

She winged the
zippered bag at him causing a toy inside to spring to life. Over its buzz, she
hissed, “You’re not the boss of me.”

He caught the
sack against his chest without even taking his burning gaze off hers, never
making an indication he noticed one of her many vibrators clanking against all
the others in the bag. “I am now.”

“What, are you a
thief or something? How did you get in here?”

He winked and
rubbed two fingertips together. “You should know. Money talks. Sometimes even
nets you a door key…for the right price.”

“Oooh.” She
stomped a foot. “You jerk!”

He chuckled and
braced one arm behind his head. The bag of pulsating sex toys was tucked under
his other arm like a football. His biceps bulged and, accompanied with the
sarcastic laugh, his abdomen rippled like low, powerful waves on the ocean’s
surface.
Waves with deadly sea snakes slithering beneath the
surface, no doubt.

“I wear that
badge proudly,” he boasted, grinning with a mouthful of perfect white teeth.
“At least in your company I do.”

“Get out.”

He launched to
his feet so quickly, she stumbled backward against the nightstand. “Wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait.” He scratched his head in mock reflection. “Something just
occurred to me. Did you just call me a thief a minute ago?”

Anjelee’s fury
had been simmering low and in check—until now. She smacked her hands on
her hips and screeched, letting it erupt into a full-blown geyser.
“Uh, hello there, breaking news.
You’re the one who burst
into
my
room without permission. Or
are you too dunce to realize what you just did? It’s called breaking and
entering, and it’s against the law.”

He slam-dunked
the bag onto the bed causing his cock to bounce and another toy to come to
life. His hand snaked out so fast, she had no time to react or even catch her
breath. He closed his fingers around her elbow and yanked her into his arms.

“Are you too
much of a dunce to realize, first of all, that you’re the big-ass cauldron
calling the cup black? And second of
all, that
we’re
in another country with different laws? But wait,” he added theatrically, his
handsome face scrunching into the most intimidating snarl she’d ever seen. “I’d
mostly like you to open door number three and see what the hell kind of answer
we find behind it. And
drum roll
,
please...
Uh…door number three says… ‘Are you too dim-witted to comprehend just how much
fucking legal trouble you’re in?’”

His sudden,
uncivilized, caveman move had had her smacking her hands onto his burly
shoulders to steady
herself
. She now stilled her
wriggling and took a quick mental inventory of body parts. God Almighty, one
certain body part fought to get to the forefront of her awareness. His shaft
speared her lower belly, and his tight balls pressed like two giant,
silk-covered marbles against her swollen labia. The scent of his rich-man’s
cologne wafted all around her in a cloud of seduction she couldn’t resist
inhaling. He was much taller than she was, and she just realized the macho,
aggressive move had lifted her off her feet so that his panting, open mouth
hovered a mere four inches above hers. She had her head tipped back and her
eyes glued to his. All she could hear was the sound of their pissed-off breaths
and the lap and rush of the surf on the beach outside the open patio door.

She had never in
her entire adult life been in such a tempting position, while at the same time
suffering so much boiling anger in her blood, that she couldn’t think straight.
The combination of it proved sexually potent and yet maddening all at once, so
much so that it seemed she found herself at a loss as to what to do with a man
for the first time in forever…not counting Keefer, that is.

Yeah, Keefer was
another puzzle to unravel.

But prior to
meeting this particular confounding, arrogant a-hole in Hawaii weeks ago, she’d
been there done that, in almost every facet of her thirty-one years. Since
then, it seemed she’d faced unfamiliar, exasperating issues, and she hadn’t
been the same since. She’d fallen off a roof and nearly broken her neck and
knee in Kabana, Hawaii, when taking some damning gay pictures of Jager’s
client, movie star Mitch Wulfrum. She’d, as Jager liked to think, blackmailed
the celebrity with Jager as the communication link, something she never would
have had the balls to do if it wasn’t for Ali’s condition. And now she’d run
off to Jamaica to hide until the funds transfer of her second round of supposed
extortion was complete, and all after promising Jager that the star’s sexuality
secrets would go to her grave with her.

Now it appeared
Jager was set on digging her grave
himself
.

Well, dumbass, you should have known.

He wasn’t going
to let her get away with what he perceived as extortion against his precious
client a second time, and it looked like she hadn’t covered her tracks well
enough. Damn it.

“Put me down.”
She squirmed, drawing in an embarrassing, involuntary moan of pleasure when he
hitched her higher and the head of his cock settled at her damp vagina beneath
the sarong wrap. Why in hell hadn’t she at least thrown her swimsuit bottoms on
after leaving the pool?

His pupils
dilated in reluctant, lusty response. A muscle along his jaw ticked as he held
her captive in the erotic position. “No.”

“I said put me
down.”

“And I said no.
Not until you promise me you’ll drop your little extortionist plot, turn over
every copy of the pictures that you promised didn’t exist anymore, and go the
hell away. Mitch Wulfrum can’t afford this. In fact, he can’t afford to pay you
the amount you’re demanding—for the second time, and even after you’d
signed that legally binding document stating you’d never do it again.”

She writhed and
twisted, but the brute’s strength way outweighed hers. “Bull. He can afford a
lot more, and you know it.”

“That doesn’t
give you the right to the money. His finances are none of your business, and
his money isn’t yours for the taking.” He let out a rush of breath through
clamped teeth, the warm puff of it fanning her cheek. “Damn, woman, has anyone
ever told you you’re the most irksome, annoying, stubborn, lying woman that
ever walked this earth?”

“Has anyone ever
told
you
that you’re the most
arrogant, mean, idiotic prick that ever walked this earth?”

“Say it.” He
shook her, making the pierced hood of her pussy grind against his stomach.
“Promise me you’ll drop this ridiculous blackmail scheme and disappear.”

“I’m not going
away.” Anjelee wiggled against his hold again, but the creep was just too damn strong
for her. Jolts of fire shot through her clit. “I have to have the money.
Besides, it’s mine. Ours, Ali’s.”

“Yours? Are you
crazy? You’re making no sense. And who the hell’s ‘our’ and ‘Ali’?”

She squealed and
ignored that last question. “You’re the crazy one, following me all the way
down here and breaking into my room. Now. Let. Me. Go.”

Twisting with
all of her strength, she finally managed to loosen his arms a bit. He tried to
hike her up higher, but the move caused her to slide down his body instead. A
strangled groan erupted from her throat when the head of his shaft
accidentally—or was it an accident
?—
gained
entry one fraction of an inch inside her pussy. Fireworks ignited in her loins,
and she easily imagined one of those Fourth of July Roman candles shooting
upward through her bloodstream and bursting into colorful frissons,
illuminating her shocked, horny face.

Jager drilled
her with a narrowed stare and bit through an involuntary moan of his own. It
was only when her damn traitorous cunt clenched and spilled a flood of warm
cream around the tip of his cock that Jager cursed under his breath and slammed
his mouth onto hers.

Well, crap.
Forget the puny fireworks.

This was more
like a dozen frigging sticks of dynamite exploding. The swift surge of lust
detonated in her system so
fast,
there was no way to
stop the fiery momentum. She slapped her palms on his cheeks, cradled his
faintly whiskered face and devoured his mouth as if she’d been starved for
years. He returned the kiss. His tongue dipped firm and wet into her mouth
while he growled some sexy, beastly noise. She chased his tongue with hers,
letting out a cat’s mewl, tasting the remnants of peanuts and beer. Their
mouths vibrated with their animal noises, just like the toys on the bed.

Mmm, toys. She
clamped her legs around his hips and pushed downward until he slid another half
an inch inside her. “The bed—the vibrators. Gotta have you, have it all,
now,” she mumbled against his mouth.

His hands were
all over her. They raced up and down her back, pinched and kneaded her bare ass
beneath the sarong. Then his hold on her turned to magic and he pulled out,
guided her hips in a circular motion and laved the head of his stiff rod with
her sticky juices.

“Mmm-mmm,” was
all he said, over and over, in a rough tone that seemed to rumble from his
chest.

She couldn’t
agree more with him. Her pussy throbbed with the urge to be completely filled,
right up to her throat. There was no doubt as soon as he slammed her down on
him, she’d come all over him. Yet she knew it would only be the start. So she
rocked her hips up and down and tried to get him back inside her, but he held
her up, now rubbing his cock around her sensitive piercing.