Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) (4 page)

She threw back
her head and released a long, torturous groan. “My God, I didn’t think it would
be like this. It can’t be like this. Oh, what the hell, just do it, just give
it to me.”

“Uh-uh,” he said
on a pant.

“Never heard the
word.” She ignored his denial and wound her arms tighter around his neck. The
attempt to angle her hips higher so she could just spear
herself,
sent them off-kilter. Jager stumbled forward and lost his balance. They went
airborne for one brief moment, but the bed, thank goodness, broke their fall.
When her back hit the mattress and Jager’s weight came down on her, his shaft
halfway penetrated her soaked vagina.

Ahh,
yes.

They both
stilled their movements and stared wide-eyed at one another. But even with just
partial invasion, he was so
big,
Anjelee could feel
the orgasm start to take hold. She arched her back and drew in a ragged breath.
She fought to tilt her hips upward and take all of him inside her, but the
weight of his big body held her lower half pinned to the bed. Determined to
have more, she thrashed and bucked relentlessly beneath him. Her hands were in
his thick, soft hair, grasping at anything, yanking him down so she could
devour his tasty mouth again.

“Kiss me,” she
demanded. “Please, suck the life outta me, fill me all the way up.”

“Anjelee, this
can’t happen,” he whispered against her lips. Yet he covered her mouth with his
and fed her hunger with an uncontrolled passion that made her even more
ravenous,
more crazy
than a bitch in heat. Then the
first, almost indiscernible ripple set off deep inside her, promising of much
more to come.

“What the
fuck...?”

At the deep,
male voice, Anjelee tore her lips from Jager’s and screeched. She whipped her
head around to find Keefer standing in the open doorway. Her orgasm pulled back
just out of reach.

Damn it all to
Hades and back.

Jager swore
under his breath, yanked himself from inside her and leaped to his feet at the
bedside. “Who the hell’s he?”

Shit. She
groaned. “Heya, Keefer.”

Out went the
last licking flames of the inferno.

Chapter Three

Keefer’s bare
feet came to a screeching halt on the threshold. One hand still gripped the
knob,
the other he held up with her abandoned flip-flops and
bikini thong hooked over two fingers. He couldn’t believe the sight that met
his eyes. Anjelee’s beautiful face was scrunched up in obvious disappointment,
and her lips were swollen from the handsome stranger’s all-out feast.

Goddamn it,
Keefer should have been the one to have her first. The reality that he’d let
the opportunity get by him numerous times before now, only made the hurt of it
sting that much more. Instant hatred for this man ate at Keefer’s gut like
acid. Apparently, he’d scored with her in a little over ten minutes, while
Keefer had had years to do the same, but hadn’t. Half of him blamed himself,
but the other half knew it was easier to take out his frustrations on both
Anjelee and her new lover.

“Ah, well that’s
nice. I figured maybe with all those naked men parading around at the pool, you
might have gotten yourself some amnesia,” Keefer replied with such venom in his
voice, it surprised even him. “But at least you do remember my name after all.”

She shoved the
man away and dragged herself off the bed, her nipples as hard as little pebbles
and her shaven pussy glistening with her come—or was it this asshole’s
ejaculate coating her sex?

Defiant and
surly as usual, Anjelee planted her fists on her hips over the askew sarong and
replied, “Um, excuse me to all flipping hell, but everybody here at the
resort’s naked. And of course I remember your name, you idiot, you’re my best
friend who—”

The man cut in
with a grumbly tone. “Do I have to repeat myself, goddamn it? Who the hell is
this guy?” As if he had every right to know who’d interrupted his hot and heavy
tryst with Anjelee—Keefer’s Anjelee.
And both of them
in
Keefer’s
room.

Keefer took in
the strong jaw and narrowed, hazel eyes.
Shit if it didn’t
make his heart go
all fucking fluttery. He’d definitely noticed the man
when he’d first strolled onto the pool deck earlier in casual dress, as if he’d
just come from the golf course. But another couple had distracted Keefer with a
conversation about bisexual and gay men being “thank God” rare at the resort,
as they’d put it. Then the last he’d seen of both Anjelee and the stranger with
the hands-down hottest male ass Keefer’d ever had the pleasure of visually
devouring, was when the man had chased after her shortly following the game of
naked Twister.

Heh, they must
have gotten to work awfully quick to already’ve been screwing by the time
Keefer’d climbed from the pool, dried off and made his way to the suite.

“I think I’m the
one who should be asking that question. So who the hell are
you
?” Keefer’s gaze moved down over the
fit, muscular torso and toned legs, and finally settled on the most obvious
elephant in the room.

Holy
mother fucker
,
he’s got a hard-on.
A very impressive, nice hard-on at that.

Ignoring the
tingling in his groin, Keefer stepped into the room and slammed the door shut
behind him. He flung her shoes and suit aside and tried like hell to drag his
stare away from that bulging cock glazed with Anjelee’s juices. But his idiotic
eyes just wouldn’t cooperate. His pulse throbbed in his head, the rhythm
picking up with every angry, confused second that passed. He was so goddamn
pissed off at finding Anjelee here in their hotel room in another man’s arms,
yet he knew he had no right to even so much as flip the guy off. Keefer was
aware Anjelee had the hots for him, yet he’d continued to play dumb. But what
the fuck was a guy to do when he couldn’t make his mind up between men and
women, and more so, when he couldn’t tell the woman he loved that he couldn’t
tie himself to a female-only relationship with her because he needed a man in
his bed, too?

Ha, knowing her,
she’d laugh him right off the planet, hurl some scathing gay slur at him and
never speak to him again. And Keefer knew he could never live without her in
his life, no matter what capacity of togetherness they settled on.

No, hiding his
secret from her was the best thing for them both.

Anjelee whipped
off the sarong, located her skimpy little robe and jammed her arms into the
sleeves. She belted it with jerky movements and sailed across the room until
she stood toe-to-toe with Keefer. Her areolas perked against the satiny fabric,
practically screaming, “Look at me, touch me, taste me!” He could smell the
tantalizing female aroma of her cream, but coupled with that, he got a vague
whiff of clean, male sweat and rich aftershave. His cock twitched and a second
flood of heat spilled into his groin.

“You have no
right to demand to know who he is.” She rose on tiptoe and leaned toward him,
her eyes spitting green fire at him. “And you know it.”

“Sure I have a
right. The dude’s in my room,” Keefer pointed out. “Screwing you on my bed, no
less.”

“Ooh!” She
stomped her bare foot on the tiled floor. “
Your
room? Well, I’m staying here, too, if you haven’t forgotten.”

He noted she
didn’t refute the screwing part of his assertion. “Have you forgotten? I paid
for it—or rather, my travel-agency company did. You came along for the
ride. A freebie, remember?”

“Doesn’t
surprise me one bit,” the intruder mumbled.

Anjelee sent the
man one of her famous scathing looks. “Shut up, Jager.”

“Correct me if
I’m wrong, which isn’t very often,” Anjelee said, turning her attention back to
Keefer, “but didn’t you beg me to come along because the resort would give your
group of twenty-nine an extra twenty-five dollars per person daily discount if
you booked a minimum of thirty people?”

Keefer sighed.
Yeah, she had him there, but that didn’t negate the fact that he’d reimbursed
her for her portion after she’d booked her flight and hotel. He’d claim the
all-inclusive room and food portion as a write-off on his year-end business
taxes, which wasn’t much to begin with anyway. The resort had drastically reduced
his rate for bringing the large group here in the first place, but
that had been offset by paying for her trip
. Still, she
didn’t have to know that. Shit, he couldn’t fess up any of it, not with some
debt she’d been trying to help her mother pay off recently. As pissed as he
was, he could never throw that back in her face. He didn’t have all the
details, and she never volunteered just what was up with her family, but he’d
known in his gut she’d needed his help.

“Yeah, you’re
correct. I did beg you to come along.” Keefer glanced at the stud standing
there with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “But that doesn’t give you the
right to mess around with some…strange man in the room we’re sharing.”

“You’re sharing
a room with him?” The guy plopped onto the bed, leaned forward and propped his
elbows on his knees. He let his hands dangle between his legs partially hiding
that impressive package from Keefer. “And you just pleaded with me to ‘suck the
life outta’ you?”

“Suck the life
out of you?” Keefer echoed.

Anjelee shot an
ugly, tongue-twisted face at the man, apparently for letting the lioness out of
the bag. The spiteful gesture briefly revealed the sterling-silver stud
piercing in her tongue. It had always had Keefer fantasizing about what the
hard little ball might feel like stroking up and down and around his cock. Now
was no exception. The visual of it played out in his head like it had hundreds
of times before… Anjelee would be on her knees at his feet, her big green eyes
staring up at him with sensual fire, her small hand wrapped around the base of
his thickness, that studded tongue wreaking maddening havoc on the head of
Keefer’s twitching cock.

And a hot man
like this one would be holding him from behind, playing with his ass.

Christ, help me.

She riveted her
glittering gaze back to Keefer. The man’s accusation returned, snuffing out
Keefer’s pleasant dream. The implication that she’d fawned all over the man and
pleaded with him to “suck the life” out of her, all but sliced Keefer’s heart
out of his chest.

“Damn right, I
begged him to.” Anjelee curled her upper lip. “Why the hell not? I don’t seem
to be getting any action from anyone else, especially not you.”

“Geez-us.” The
man she’d called Jager shoved a hand through his military-cropped, brownish
hair leaving it standing on end. That mussed, all-male bedroom look nearly did
Keefer in. “I don’t get it. You’re an attractive couple rooming in the same
suite with one king-sized bed, and at a nude resort, no less, and you’re
technically sleeping together, but not sleeping-sleeping together?”

An
attractive couple.
That phrase coming from this good-looking guy with the softening but still
impressive-sized cock, made Keefer’s insides go all hot and mushy.

“Shut the hell up,
Jager,” Anjelee snapped, and shot him a withering look across the room. She
flipped a pink lock of hair away from her equally pink cheek. “It’s none of
your business who’s sleeping with who.”

Keefer snapped
his fingers. “So, it’s Jager. Jager what? Where did you come from, and why are
you stalking Anjelee?”

“Manning. Jager
Manning. I came all the way from L.A. And what is it about you two and that
word, ‘stalking’?” He huffed and rolled his bedroom eyes. “Look, I’m not
stalking her. I’ve got her under surveillance. I’m making sure she returns to
the States and gets what’s coming to her.”

“Surveillance?”
Keefer liked the last name Manning. Very manly and strong sounding. But the
rest of Jager’s words were what really got his attention. He threw his head back
and laughed sarcastically. “Is that what you call it when you follow a woman to
a hedonistic resort and spy on her nudity, then attack her in the room she
shares with another man?
That’s
surveillance? Clever. Very clever, if not a bit twisted. Hm. Maybe I should
become a P.I.”

“Attack her?”
Jager shot to his feet. His now limp, long shaft bounced before it settled over
the tight balls that Keefer could just imagine would feel smooth and full in
his hand.
And in his mouth.
“I didn’t attack her. She
attacked me.”

“
What
?” Anjelee shrieked.

“You threw your
bag of dildos at me,” Jager accused. He turned and snatched up the proof. When
he held up the sack, Keefer heard the muffled buzz of her toys going off
inside. The
noise escalated when Jager yanked open
the
drawstring and pulled out a seven-inch, purple dong monster. He held it up,
twisted the end and shut it off. “That’s an awfully dangerous attack if you ask
me.”

Angelee smirked.
“Well, I didn’t ask you. And that wasn’t a dildo. It was a vibrator, genius.
There is a difference.”

“What the hell
ever,” Jager mumbled. He flung the bag and the toy onto the bed, as if he
suddenly realized it was a poisonous snake.

Anjelee whirled
back around. Her hair swung out in a striped curtain of pink and platinum.
“Keef, I’m telling you, he bribed some maid or desk clerk for the key to the
door between our suite and the next,” she insisted, pointing toward the door
that indeed stood open between the rooms. “And then he marched in here and
snatched me right up off the frigging floor.”

“Snatched you up
off the floor? That’s hardly an attack, especially when the person’s a willing
participant.” Jager scoffed and crossed to the door he’d used to enter their
suite, his powerful legs flexing. He bent across the threshold and grabbed his
Levi’s, which he’d apparently brought from the pool and left in a heap just
inside the door to the other room. He shoved his legs into the jeans—mmm,
without underwear—and did a squat to enable him to carefully stuff his
cock into the crotch without scraping it on the open zipper.

With a quick zip
of the fly, Jager added, “It was a warning.
A warning that
it’s over, Anjelee.
You can’t keep pulling that shit on Mitch Wulfrum.
You do, I’m telling you,
it’s
not going to keep going
your way, that I can promise you.”

“Mitch Wulfrum?”
Keefer’d been marveling over the fact that Jager looked almost as good in pants
as he did out of them, when his words finally shook Keefer from his daze. He
tore his stare from Jager and targeted Anjelee instead. “The
movie
star
whose wedding you shot in Kabana, Hawaii, a few weeks back?”

Jager sent
Anjelee a sour, ha-ha look. “Yeah.
That movie star.
The one she’s been blackmailing. Holding hostage some pretty racy photos she
took while trespassing on the roof during their honeymoon.”

“On the roof?”
Keefer’s head spun with confusion. He looked at Anjelee who, with her
deer-in-the-headlights expression slowly seemed to be melting down into a
puddle like the Wicked Witch of the East. “What the hell’s he talking about,
Anj? Blackmailing? Trespassing? Did you really break the law in Hawaii?”

She started to
answer but clacked her mouth shut instead. Her eyes darted guiltily around the
room. She studied every indoor potted plant and tropical framed art on the
walls instead of meeting Keefer’s probing gaze.