Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) (5 page)

“Well, imagine
that. Seems the cat’s got the little shrew’s tongue,” Jager snorted. He crossed
his arms, the heavily muscled biceps and pecs flexing deliciously. His gaze
fell expectantly and triumphantly on Keefer. “So, poor mute that she is, I’d be
glad to speak for her if you’d like.”

Of course she
found her voice before Keefer could find his own following that mesmerizing
stare of Jager’s. Her tone seethed with bitterness and a curious note of
desperation. “Shut it, Jager. This has nothing to do with Keefer.”

Keefer ignored
Anjelee and took a quick scan of Jager’s sparse brown curls scattered over the
chiseled chest and rippled abs. His fingers curled into fists when he imagined
skimming his palms down that rock-hard wall, then down along the narrowing
arrow of crisp hairs that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Thinking
about where the path led made Keefer’s knees go weak and his mouth water.

“And how is it
you know both Anjelee and the celebrity?” Keefer asked, trying to keep the
matter at hand a priority over his depraved thoughts.

Jager shrugged
his burly shoulders. “I’m the P.R. guy for both Mitch Wulfrum and KPCS, the
cane company owned by Heloki ‘Alohi, the father of Wulfrum’s new bride, Kiona.
I originally hired Anjelee to photograph their private wedding ceremony. From
there, Anjelee took it in an entirely different direction. An illegal one, to
be exact.”

“I said shut the
hell up, Jager.” Anjelee pounded her fist on a nearby dresser. “This shouldn’t
involve Keefer. No, make that, it
won’t
involve him.”

Jager leveled a
look at Anjelee. He planted his
bare
feet apart in an
arrogant stance that made Keefer think of some hot, glistening guy on the cover
of a fitness magazine. “Well, considering he’s the boyfriend you’re rooming
with, and the one who paid for your hideout-trip-on-the-run-from-the-law here,
and who you sort of just screwed around on, I’d say it has everything to do
with Keefer.”

Damn, Keefer did
love the sound of his name edged by that deep voice. But he could swear that
word “boyfriend” had been laced with jealousy.

Hmm,
interesting…

“He’s not my
boyfriend,” Anjelee shot back.

Ouch.

Keefer studied
her, amazed at how torn he was between visually devouring her, and drooling
over Jager. But he would never tire of looking at her. She was gorgeous in an
unconventional, wild and sexy way. She had her cat eyes narrowed, and her tense
posture made her compact little body show defined and tight through the robe.
Her legs had a nice definition to
them
as she stood with
her feet apart in anger, going head-to-head with Jager. Keefer licked his lips
at the sight of her small but full breasts pressed against the thin fabric. His
body went
hard,
his palms itched to be filled by the
mounds. His shaft tingled and desire grew heavier in his loins. He looked from
her, to the arrogant, handsome man, then back to his feisty, gorgeous best
friend, and Keefer decided he wanted them both—God, how he wanted them
something fierce. He could well imagine sinking his stiff cock into her tight
little pussy while Jager filled Keefer up from behind. Or watching Jager fuck
her while Keefer buried himself in Jager’s nice, tight ass.

Hell, this is ridiculous. I can’t keep
thinking this way.

“How can he not be
your boyfriend?” Jager asked with a note of amusement in his voice. He made a
play of glancing around the room as if to say everything indicated they were a
couple. “I don’t see twin beds in here.”

“No need for
twin beds. A king bed is very wide and allows lots of space between two
people,” Anjelee pointed out with a roll of her eyes. “We’re just friends. I’m
not his type.”

Ouch again.

But that friend
thing and bed situation could be fixed. There was lots of space for a third
person...

“You know that’s
not true. You are too my type,” Keefer interjected.

“Is too true.”
She grabbed her purse off the dresser and dug through the contents. She found a
piece of bubble gum, unwrapped it and popped the pink ball into her mouth.
Chomping as she spoke, she added, “A woman knows that when she parades around
naked in front of a man for days—no, make that years—and sleeps
nude next to him every night at a hedonistic resort for almost a week with not
one single look or attempt to do the deed on his part, that means she’s not the
guy’s type. Either that, or he’s gay.”

Crap.
“I’m not gay.”

“Could’ve fooled
me,” Jager mumbled.

“What’s that
supposed to mean?” Keefer asked, suddenly feeling like a trapped rat.

Jager lifted a
beefy shoulder. “The way you looked at me. Only thing that was missing was the
drool.”

Keefer swallowed
the “drool” that had, in fact, been pooling in his mouth.

Anjelee’s gaze
riveted to Keefer. Her eyes were wide, but there was something else there.
Mischief and intrigue, if Keefer knew her well enough.
“So
you
are
gay.”

“No, I’m not.”
Keefer shuffled his feet and plopped onto a nearby love seat. “I’ve got eyes
for you, and you know it.”

“He’s both,”
Jager pointed out, heading back into the next room.

Shit. Astute bastard.

“Both?”
Anjelee’s voice spiked with a note Keefer could swear meant hope and
excitement. “You think? Really?”

“Yeah.
Bisexual.” Jager turned back, his hand on the knob to the door separating the
two rooms. “He ogled me, and then he ogled you. I know the look, and so do you,
Anjelee.”

Keefer sighed
and rammed his head back into the wall behind the sofa. “Do we have to talk
about me as if I’m not here? And that’s bullshit, by the way. I did not ogle.”

She glided
across the room toward Keefer, her brow furrowed. “No, come to think of it, I believe
Jager’s right. I think you did ogle.”

“I did
not—”

Anjelee stood
over him chomping and popping her gum. Her gaze held his like a potent truth
serum. “
Are
you bisexual? Huh? Are
you? Because if that’s truly the case, it sure would explain a lot.”

“He is, no doubt
in my mind.” Jager leaned against the doorjamb and hooked a thumb in the belt
loop of his jeans. He looked
all-male
and so damn
appetizing, it took all of Keefer’s mental strength to force his rising cock
down. “He wants us both.”

“Really? Are
you? Do you? Does he have it right?” Anjelee’s face lit up like a barrage of
colorful firecrackers.

“I…” Keefer
couldn’t find the right words. He’d always longed to confess it to her, but now
that the perfect opportunity was here, he couldn’t bring himself to confirm it.
“I…”

“I have it
right,” Jager grumped in that deep, sexy voice. “I know because it takes one to
spot one.”

Anjelee whirled
around. She blew a bubble as she regarded Jager from across the room.
Pop
. She sucked the wad back in her
mouth and asked, “Oh, my freaking gawd, you’re bisexual too? Like Wulfrum, and
like Kol, the guy Wulfrum and his wife brought into their marriage?”

“What?” Keefer
perked up at the gossipy news that Anj had apparently kept from him after her
trip to Kabana.

“That’s hearsay,”
Jager insisted, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He came back into their suite,
hands on hips. “You don’t know that for sure.”

Anjelee snorted.
“Like hell I don’t. Didn’t you just say I saw it with my own eyes? Make up your
damn mind whether you want to admit to your client’s truth, or keep concealing
it. You know
who
it was that I saw the bi hanky-panky
going on with. Besides, I got it on film. Still do.”

“Right, which
swings us back to you trespassing and blackmailing—that would be,
breaking the law in the States, which is why I’m here. To bring you back to
face the music. You’re a dead woman walking, Anjelee Montrose. And if I have to
stay here for a month watching and waiting for you to return to California,
I’ll do it. I’ve got my eye on you. I’ll be keeping track of every step you
take. I’m a patient man. I’m here for as long as you are, for as long as it
takes to finally bring you down to the level where you belong.”

He turned his
back on them, but seemingly on a whim, he spun back around, leveled one last
stare of determination at her and then slammed the door that adjoined their
rooms.

“Holy shit.”
Keefer gawked at the closed door.

“Okay, so I
trespassed and I ‘blackmailed’ movie star Mitch Wulfrum, as he likes to call it,
after witnessing some really juicy, three-way ass-shagging sex between him, his
new wife and her boyfriend. Guilty as charged. But I have a very good reason.”

“You always do,”
he replied distractedly.

Her admission of
guilt meant little to him at the moment. He suddenly didn’t care if she’d
murdered someone. Keefer just got confirmation from Jager’s own mouth that he’s
bisexual too.
Takes one to spot one
.
And on top of that, Anjelee all but admitted her attraction to Keefer, while
her attraction to Jager had also been apparent from the start.

Keefer dragged
his gaze from the closed door and settled it on her face. “And you’re going to
tell me that reason right now. But before you do, let me explain to you the way
I’m seeing it. You want me, I want you and we both want him. So…what do you say
we come up with a plan to make us all happy?”

Chapter Four

The tropical
breeze moved through the nearby beach palms and sent a flood of brine-scented,
balmy air across their naked bodies. Anjelee lay on a double raft in the
roped-off bay designated for swimming, Keefer at her side. Her eyes were closed
behind her shades, but the strong sunrays left a pale yellow curtain behind her
eyelids while warming her from her bare breasts to her toes.

About twenty
feet away, a woman moaned in the water while a man growled, “Yes, baby, take
me. Aw, shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

A svelte woman
sunned in the buff in a floating lounger sipping a margarita while one man
pleasured her between the legs and another gave full attention to her bulging,
fake breasts.

Yet another
woman, blonde and naturally buxom, knelt on all fours in the shallow surf at
beachside and gave a body-builder-type man a thorough blowjob while a black man
entered her from behind. A second female sat on the face of the man receiving
oral, dancing and groaning her pleasure.

Almost as if
desensitized to all the sexual energy around them, a group of a dozen naked men
and women whooped and hollered while engaging in a serious game of sand
volleyball. The seaside pool where Jager had first found her playing naked
Twister was in full swing just above a low rocky ledge where the cove merged
into the open beach. Droves of bronzed bodies frolicked in the pool water, and
loyal staff hovered nearby to assist them and monitor for the occasional
rule-breaker—like Jager when he’d first found her. Laughter and
chattering could be heard over the swim-up bar’s buzzing blenders and lively
reggae music. Further still, beyond the boardwalk, the terrace dining area with
its famous “Naked Parties Pier” buzzed in full lunch mode. She supposed all
that sun and sex revved up the appetites. Women in skimpy swimsuits slinked
around the many buffet tables and caught the eyes of men and other women alike.

Anjelee sighed.
Ah, yes, all in a day’s work and play at Karibu’s hedonistic resort.

Jager.

His name popped
into her head as she drowsily soaked up the sun. A shiver went up her spine.
He was out there somewhere in the middle of all that sexual energy
watching her
,
she just knew it
. Hell, she could
feel it. But screw him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of one single,
wary look his way even if Keefer did have plans for them to do more than just
look at Jager.

The raft shifted
and Keefer’s hand closed over hers. “Let’s do it now, babe.”

She opened one
eye to find him on his side facing her, his head, with its slick-backed, dark
long hair, propped on a fist. Her breath caught in her windpipe. Jeepers alive,
the man was so ruggedly handsome, he never failed to leave her breathless. His
hand moved in a slow caress up her arm, and wowza, he may as well have stroked
her clit. Something hot and liquidy stirred in her womb.

She swallowed to
clear the growing lump in her throat. “Do it? Do what?”

“It.” He trailed
a finger from her oiled shoulder down over her nipple.
Flames
shot from her breast to her cunt so lightning-fast
,
it
made her gasp
. She slowly opened her other eye and gawked at him through
the pale pink lenses of her sunglasses.

He’d never
touched her there before. Hell, for that matter, he’d never touched her that
way
before, with feeling and the heat of
sex driving his hands to do yummy things.

Her voice came
out in a breathy whisper. She fought to calm her racing heart. “‘It’, as in…?”

“Don’t play coy
with me, Anj. You know what I mean.” He cupped one mound, causing her to arch
her back off the surface of the raft. “Make love.”

Make love.

She gulped. Oh,
God, those two little words sounded so hot in that deep, all-male voice of his.

“Are you
serious? After all these years of me practically throwing myself at you,
now
you want to do it? Out here in front
of the whole world?”

He flopped onto
his back and stared up at the pristine sky through his dark shades. A throaty
sigh escaped his compressed mouth. “I’ve always loved you, and you know it.”

Hearing those
words for the first time while lounging naked with him on a naughty, remote
island somehow didn’t have the gleeful, revving effect she’d always dreamed of.
Keefer didn’t normally go from one extreme to another so quickly, so it made
her suspicious as hell, never mind the fact she herself usually operated in a
similar wishy-washy, ulterior-motive fashion.

She sat up so
fast the raft rocked precariously, nearly throwing Keefer into the water.
“You’ve always loved me? What the fuck? Why now? Why are you doing this to me?
Wait, it has to do with Jager, doesn’t—”

He rose up and
clamped a hand over her mouth. “I can only answer one question at a time, ya
know?”

She nodded,
feeling the tension in his grip, seeing it as clear as the sky in his ribbed muscles.
Her gaze slid down his sculpted chest, across taut abs to his engorged manhood.
Holy foley, the man’s cock was as big as Jager’s. With partial Hispanic blood
coursing through his veins, it was naturally tanned, but the shade had deepened
in the week they’d been here at the resort. The mushroomed head gleamed full
and purplish in the sun, and a delicious-looking vein ran down the length of
the shaft until it disappeared in the swollen mass of his balls. She licked her
lips, wondering what it would feel like to lick him from his scrotum to the
rounded tip. Her mouth watered. Mmm, and what would it taste like?

“Anj.”

“Huh?” She
snapped her gaze back up to meet his, and even behind the lenses of his
glasses, she could see the passion smoldering there.

“I’m going to
say it again. I love you. I always have. I just…” His words trailed off. His
gaze flitted over her shoulder and fixed somewhere on the beach behind her. He
lay back down and folded his arms behind his head, breaking the brief spark of
electricity between them.

She flicked her
wrist and gave him a light finger-slap on his biceps. “Keefer, damn it. Talk to
me. What’s going on? You just what?”

His kissable
mouth curved up in a faint smile. His dark eyes twinkled behind the glasses as
he stared up into nothingness. “You’re so impatient, you just can’t seem to ask
one question at a time, can you, sweetheart? But I still love it.”

“Uh, Keef,
darling ol’ dear, you’re kind of scaring me. Suddenly, there’s all this lovey
crap I don’t quite know what to do with. Before we came to Karibu, I couldn’t
even get you to look at me in a sexual way, and now you’re touching my tits and
even asking me to make love with you right here and now in front of everyone?
And more boggling than that, you even like my impatience—which you used
to hate, by the way. What the hell?”

“Love. I said I
loved your impatience.” He grinned ruefully, his white teeth flashing beneath
the sun. “Even though it irks the shit out of me.”

She glared at
him.

He cleared his
throat and returned to that sexy, side-lying, head-propped position he’d been
in before. “Lay down.”

“Nope.” She
crossed her arms and thrust her breasts up to emphasize her
stubbornness—no, to punish him for putting her through all these
stupid-ass, confusing head games.

“I said lay
down, goddamn it.” He tugged on her arm until her backside crashed onto the
raft. “I want to explain, and I prefer you in a neutral position so I don’t
suddenly find myself being tossed overboard.”

“Ha. Like little
freaking ol’ me can toss big freaking ol’ you into the ocean just like that.”
She snapped her fingers and re-crossed her arms.

Her gaze settled
out to sea where dark clouds churned on the horizon. She wouldn’t look at him,
she wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. With his cock still hard and his fit body so
near, she couldn’t afford the emotional rollercoaster of it. She loved Keefer,
and she always had even though he’d never once responded to her overt attempts
to express her true feelings. No way she’d take any chances at further
rejection until she understood just what was going on here. Yeah, he
propositioned her yesterday in their room during that “plan to make us all
happy” crap after her accidental half-screw with Jager, but he hadn’t mentioned
it since, so she’d assumed he’d reverted back to his old self and the game was
off.

But maybe she
was wrong…

He hooked a
finger under her chin and turned her face toward him. “Hey.” Even through the
shades, his dark eyes practically smoked with—what was it? Relief?
Adoration? Excitement?
Or maybe a mixture of all of the
above.
Whatever it was, it made her heart flutter in some sort of tickly
rhythm behind her breastbone that proved harder than heck to control.

She took a deep
breath to steady her nerves. “What?”

“I’m so sorry,
babe, that I couldn’t bring myself to tell you I’m bisexual. Not until I saw
you with him yesterday.” He cupped her cheek, leaned in and brushed his lips
across hers before sealing their mouths together in a wicked,
pussy-wetting
yet brief romantic encounter. She held her
breath and etched every nuance of their first kiss in her brain, and basked in
the soft moistness of his mouth and fruity flavor on her tongue.

And wow, gods
and all the frigging saints, he felt and tasted so much better in real life
than in dreams.

“I’ve needed…”
He glanced briefly away then returned his gaze to hers. By that one look, he
held her captive there in Karibu’s Caribbean bay like a pirate threatening to
snatch a treasure right from her arms. “Please understand I just didn’t want to
hurt you. I knew I needed both a woman and a man in my life—a woman and
man committed to a serious ménage relationship. All three. Together.”

“So you figured
I wasn’t that woman.”

“I didn’t think
you’d go for it, even after our brief talk yesterday and the plan I mentioned to
snare him in our trap and make him forget whatever it is that you’ve done wrong
in his eyes. Look, it’s simple. I didn’t want to lose you. And I…I was afraid.”

Her hopes soared
and her long-frozen heart started to thaw. The cold chill that’d been protecting
her soul from this man slowly heated up. It drained from her tight chest into
her womb in a warm spill of desire. Crapsakes alive, he loved her, he truly
did. But all along he’d needed her to accept him as he was while also allowing
a bisexual man into their relationship. Her mind rewound to that night months
ago in Kabana, Hawaii, when she’d been on that roof photographing that hot
threesome between Mitch Wulfrum, his new wife, and their “husband”. Witnessing
the three making wild, shocking love in the bubbling Jacuzzi tub in every
position and combination thinkable, had proved highly arousing. Not to mention
she’d totally surprised herself when she’d realized that she actually found the
man-on-man stuff to be just as sexy and exciting as watching a man and woman
having sex in a porno movie.

And now Keefer
admitted to wanting the same thing Wulfrum had, the same sort of relationship
she’d been blackmailing the movie star over.

Anjelee shrugged
off a pang of guilt. She’d done what she had to for her family, and because
Wulfrum’s family owed it to hers whether Wulfrum knew it or not…

Actually, she
had no idea if Wulfrum knew her family secrets.

Well, if he
didn’t, she sure as shit wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. She’d promised
her mother she’d keep their family skeletons in the damn closet forever, and
carry it right to her grave. Keefer knew a vague overview of her sister Ali’s
illness, though not the scary details. He also knew a minimized version of
their financial situation, but Anjelee still refused to reveal her mother
Vivien’s most personal secret, one that would shock the entire world if it ever
got out.

But here was a
whole new opportunity being dangled before her, and whether she was being a
hypocrite or not, she was entitled to have love and happiness in her life. She
knew, due to the legal predicament she’d gotten tangled up in, that Jager could
never be the right man. But still, his tempting image floated in the periphery
of her mind, so close she could almost touch him. The graphic memory of his
cock plunging into her yesterday when they’d accidentally fallen on the bed,
then realized that Keefer had been watching them, it was a light-bulb moment
she’d had to try to extinguish.

No, Jager wasn’t
the right man, despite Keefer’s brilliant plan, and regardless of the obvious
attraction both she and Keefer had for him.

But maybe
someone else out there was the right one for them…?

“What were you
afraid of?” Anjelee finally asked.

Keefer drew off
the sunglasses and stared into her eyes. “Of you not wanting what I knew I
needed in my life. And of losing you.”

“Oh, Keef…” She
combed her fingers through his long, wet hair, memorizing the feel of his bare,
strong chest against hers. The strength he exuded was so in contrast to the
vulnerable look in his eyes. “I might be difficult to deal with at times, but I
would never let go of your friendship. I need you. You’re my rock in all the
craziness going on in my life and in my family. You know nothing could ever
chase me away. Nothing.”