Karibu Heat (Sequel to Kabana Heat) (8 page)

“Where’s he
going?” Jager murmured, kissing her earlobe and neck.

“He?” Anjelee
shivered. Her eyes fluttered open. “Who?”

“Keefer. He’s
not like, in some kind of trouble for…you know, doing that out there, is he?”

She saw that
Keefer walked away and followed the resort manager, Liona. Though her limbs
felt like rubber, Anjelee gently dislodged Jager’s cock from inside her and
grappled to her feet. Chuckling softly, she located her shorts and jammed them
on. “Uh, no. With the exception of during meals in the terrace dining area,
‘that’ is allowed anywhere on the resort except the prude side. It was
business. He and Liona often confer about the groups he books with them through
the travel agency he owns.”

“Ah, I see.” He
stood to his full six-foot-plus height and drew his shorts up and over his
massive erection. “Should have known. But, um, about us all getting together
later…”

She yanked down
her shirt and threw up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

He clamped his
mouth shut. The look in his eyes told her he’d been about to cancel the date
he’d promised her during the throes of that amazing sex they’d just had.

“Look, I know
what you’re doing.”

“Right. You know
everything. As usual.” He plucked up a heavy set of dumbbells and pumped out a
short set of biceps curls.

“Don’t start it.
I do. You’re having second thoughts about us all getting together. You’re
feeling all guilty toward your client and all.”

Now that she had
her cardio in, she supposed she’d do the same and get some strength training
in. She picked out her own set of dumbbells, though she curled a much lighter
set than Jager did. They watched each other in the mirror. Damn, but his arms
were way more buff than she’d have guessed back in Hawaii.

He paused his
curl and held her gaze in the mirror. “Sweetheart, you don’t know—”

“But you can’t
deny it, Jager. It’s kind of obvious we all have the hots for each other. And
I’m not going anywhere until…well, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to tell you
when we’re leaving.”

One dark eyebrow
arched mockingly. He set aside the iron and adjusted the ab machine settings.
Climbing on, he offered, “Because you plan to steal away in the middle of the
night and hide on the other side of the world?”

“Whatever.” She
set the back machine to her specifications and pounded out a set while he did
his abs.

“Hey, things
have changed, obviously,” he said through clenched teeth as he pushed out the
last few reps.

She slid a
sidelong glance at him in order to get an eyeful of his flexing abdomen. Nice.

Jager hopped off
the machine and went to the hip sled. He loaded it with what looked like tons
of iron plates. He climbed on and pressed out some lower-body extensions, every
muscle in his strong legs taut and all bulgy.

“But what you
did to Mitch isn’t going away, sweetheart. As much as I’d like it to.”

“Huh, this
three-way attraction we all have for each other isn’t going away either.” She
crossed to him and stood over him. She worked through a few overhead tricep
exercises with a lighter pair of dumbbells while she conversed with him.

He climbed off
the contraption and stood facing her. “True, as much as I should at this point,
I can’t deny it. So what do you propose we do?”

“Well, are you
aware of the resort’s motto? What happens here—
”

“Stays here.
Yeah, yeah, I know.” He took the dumbbells from her and returned them to the
rack. When he angled toward her again, her breath caught in her lungs. The
afternoon sun just then spilled in through the tinted west window making his
eyes sparkle and the sheen of perspiration on his chest glisten. Damp hair
stood
all askew
. It made her
think
of being in bed with Keefer and Jager on a lazy Saturday morning with three
heads of bed-hair together on one pillow. Wow, she didn’t know how it happened,
but it seemed every second she spent with him, he became more attractive, more
mouthwatering and yummy.

Down, girl. You can only have him here in
Karibu. Remember, when you return to L.A., it’ll be over for good.

She frowned.

“Don’t give me
that disapproving pout. You think I haven’t been doing my homework? I went
through all the brochures and handouts the front desk gave me when I checked
in.”

She clapped.
“Bravo. Then can we put aside our differences and just have some fun while
we’re here, maybe forget this ‘thing’ I’ve done for the time being? Besides,
reality will come soon enough for us all.”

“Looks like
we’ve already done that to an extent.” He crossed to her and slid a warm, moist
hand along her jaw. His eyes held hers with a mixed light of adoration and
confoundedness.

She grinned.
“How about to a deeper extent then?”

His scrutiny
dropped to her lips. He bent and brushed a wet kiss across her open mouth. “I’m
listening,” he murmured against her lips.

Damn him. She
pulled back, wiped her knuckles across her mouth and took a cleansing breath to
help get her mind out of the delicious gutter. “Well, if you really did do your
homework, you’d know tonight’s party theme is Three’s Company. You know, like
last night’s was BDSM?”

He glanced away
but didn’t let go of her chin. That reluctance of his to release her tried to
worm its way into her heart and set up camp. Uh-uh. Wasn’t happening. Can’t
happen.

“Come on. You
can’t honestly tell me you didn’t notice all the costumes and sexual aura
floating around the resort. I saw you across the dining room intently and
hornily watching the on-stage BDSM dinner show that the emcees put on.”

He jerked his
hand back. The hazel pools of his eyes narrowed to slits. “Hornily? Is that one
of those unique Anjelee terms?”

“Yeah,
whatever.” She set one hand on his damp chest. He looked down, back up. She
went on. “I saw the growing bulge in your shorts, Jager, so don’t go denying
it.”

“No, you
didn’t.” He curled his fingers around hers. Her heart did a flip in response,
but she’d be damned if she’d show her approval. She refused to let her
emotional guard down, not until she had him where she wanted him.

If she could get
him eating out of her hands, he’d never turn her in to Mitch.
Or to the law.
Yeah, that was her new amended plan.

She pulled
herself free and turned her back on him. “Yes, I did. You were very closely
watching the spankings, the tie-me-up-and-control-me skits on stage, and the
doms leading the sub ladies around by leashes and forcing them to their knees
for the blowjob contest.”

“Okay, so it did
a little something for me.” At his acknowledgment, she whirled back around. He
shrugged. “Hell, who wouldn’t be turned on watching all that blatant sexual
stuff going on out in the open? Not exactly your everyday occurrence back home,
ya know.”

She cackled,
feeling especially wicked and marginally hopeful at his words. “A little
something for you? I, um, distinctly remember it did a lot of something for
you.”

He rolled his
eyes. “You made your point. So what’s this Three’s Company thing all about?”

“Only threesome
groups are allowed on the dinner stage tonight. There’s going to be a threesy
stripper-pole contest to determine the hottest ménage couple in all of Karibu.”
She added the most innocent smile she could muster.

“And you want
me,” he replied with an audible swallow, “you and Keefer to enter this contest
together as a ‘threesy’?”

“You got it.”

“Oh, boy.”

“No, I want two
men, not boys. You and Keefer to be exact.”

“No kidding.
Well, I don’t dance, and I certainly don’t dance around stripper poles.”

“You will
tonight.”

“No, I won’t.”

She pushed out
her bottom lip and sulked. “Please?
For me?
And for
Keefer, too?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie. You
know it’d totally light your bulb.”

His brows arched
so high, they almost merged with his hairline. “Light my bulb?”

“Get you off.”
She trailed a finger down her abdomen until she found the cloth between her
legs. Pulling it aside, she exposed herself to him, inwardly sighing at the
sensation of cool air brushing her dampness. “Like I’ll do again with you. And
Keefer. Just think how awesome it’s going to feel to make love to us both at
the same time. That is, after we win the contest, which includes a free night
of pampering in Karibu Resort’s top honeymoon suite.”

He closed his
eyes on a sigh and plopped onto the nearest weight bench. “You play real hard
ball, don’t you?”

“Hard, sweet and
sticky, baby,” she replied in unison with the rock song blaring overhead.

He groaned and
slid a look of pure torture her way. “How about I just pay for the suite and we
skip the contest altogether?”

“Well, geez,
that’s no fun.”

He paused for a
long moment and just stared at her. Then, as if he couldn’t take her peer
pressure anymore, he scrubbed his face and growled, “Okay, okay, I’ll think on
it.”

“All right, fair
enough.” She sauntered over to him and set her palms on his shoulders. Bending
close, she inhaled the exciting concoction of faint perspiration edged by the
scent of their sex wafting from his skin. “And while you’re thinking on that
one, how about you decide to forget what I did to Mitch, too, at least while
we’re here?”

“Mmm, I wondered
when that would come up again.”

She dragged her
lips back and forth over his, and tasted the remnants of her pussy juices. The
simple move had her hormones leaping to life again. Determined to stay the
course, she clamped her thighs together and went on. “Just think. The rest of
our stay could be phenomenal. Mitch’ll never know. Then we can leave it all
here when the trip’s over and go back to our cat and mouse game.”

He grinned. “And
what a helluva game it’s been, too.”

Anjelee couldn’t
help herself. She climbed onto his lap and straddled him so that his soft cock
nestled beneath her wet, clothed pussy. “True. And at the moment, you can’t
deny that the game’s gone off on a different path than we both intended. It’s
simple. I want you and you want me.” She wiggled her hips and did a circular
dance over his rising cock. Their eyes were level, locked. “Keefer wants me, I
want him.
You want Keefer
,
he wants
you
. Let’s see, did I leave out any other possible combos?”

“Uh, no, I think
you just about covered all the...combos.” His big hands moved around and did
just that, covered her ass in a move that screamed total possession.

And she loved
it.

Despite the
temptation to slide her shorts aside and shove
herself
down on him, instead, she stood and held out her hand. “Good, then you agree?
We forget our differences and enjoy ourselves during the rest of our Karibu
stay?”

He hesitated for
a moment then reached for her hand. His grip was warm and firm, big and
powerful. He shook her hand and conceded, “Okay, you win.”

“No, sugar, we
all three win. Now go back to your room, shower and pick out your sexiest
outfit for our Three’s Company contest.”

“Outfit? Men
don’t wear outfits.”

“Precisely my
point. Buck-naked is how I want you both.”

Chapter Six

Jager didn’t
have any “outfits” other than the polos, button-ups, t-shirts, Levi’s and
various shorts he’d angrily thrown into his suitcase back in L.A. And coming up
with something appropriate for a silly stripper-pole contest proved about as
useless as trying to keep his dick in his pants around those two.

He gave up and
slipped on a pair of cargo shorts and a ribbed tank top, all the while pretty
much accepting the fact that he really was going to go through with this
three-way affair—at least during his Karibu stay. How could he not? An
image of the two swam before him, one petite, gorgeous and womanly,
the
other dark, handsome and manly in a biker-guy sort of
way. His tongue tingled and a delicious throbbing took up residence in his
loins. He wasn’t stupid. He knew
a
once-in-a-lifetime
offer when he saw one, no matter who the subjects or what they’d done.

He wasn’t an
idiot, either. He knew a sexual bribe when he saw one, too. Oh, yeah, he got
what they were trying to do. But little did they know their tawdry scheme to
seduce him into forgetting Anjelee’s discretions, and giving up the chase,
would prove futile in the end. But he wouldn’t be telling them that. No, again,
he was no idiot. He was going to enjoy the hell out of himself and pretend to
be gullible. He’d relive his threesome past,
which
had
always included himself, one hot chick and a bisexual stud, and then promptly
see her behind bars where she belonged.

Jager closed his
eyes. A mental image of her slim arms above her head with her wrists shackled
to the bars of a jail cell flooded his mind. In the fantasy, Keefer had his
head buried between her legs forcing her to heights she’d never reached before.
He waved, coaxing Jager into the cell with them, inviting him to sample Keefer
at the same time Keefer overpowered Anjelee. Jesus, before making love to her
and prior to meeting Keefer, that jail cell in Jager’s dreams would have been
locked and the key thrown away.

But now…

No. He shook his
head. He wasn’t going to allow them to seduce him into letting her go. He
couldn’t. His livelihood and his career depended on him following through with
her punishment and Mitch’s vindication.

But
what the hell?
Two—or rather three—could play at their game. If they really
thought they could get away with dangling a coveted man-on-man-on-woman ménage
in front of him and think that would excuse Anjelee’s illegal behavior, they
both had another think coming. Oh, he’d enjoy himself in the process all right,
but he wasn’t going to continue with convenient amnesia once they got back to
the States. He couldn’t afford to, damn it, no matter how much he might wish it
otherwise.

Therefore, since
they were offering, and since he couldn’t really do anything with her until he
got her feet back on the soil of the proper jurisdiction anyway, then why not
have a little fun while he waited for the day they returned to L.A.? That way
he could really keep a close eye on her. So what in the hell was he to do but
take them up on their proposition and join them in some pleasure?

He swatted aside
a buzz of nagging guilt at what Mitch would think of him cavorting with the
enemy. Eh, never mind that. Mitch would never know. Besides, he could sort of
say this was all for Mitch’s sake. Yeah, Jager would make up for his little
undercover, Karibu break
one way
or the other. Once he
had Anjelee back in the U.S., well, there was no way around it. He had to alert
the authorities as well as Mitch.

But really, he
didn’t want to think of the sticky legal and business aspects at the moment.
The allure of this wicked resort pulled at him. It called to him like some
magical siren set on corrupting him, or ruining his life. His mind kept wandering
back to that phenomenal sex he’d had with Anjelee in the gym earlier today, and
Keefer’s smoldering eyes watching them while he jacked off on the other side of
the window in broad daylight.

Hell, had it
ever fired Jager’s libido up like never before.
And probably
even more so than in Keefer’s case, Jager was a true-blue bisexual at heart.
It was why he’d been such a staunch proponent of protecting Mitch’s reputation
in the first place, and helping to deflect the gay rumors that had nearly
ruined his acting career. Shit, if he hadn’t been Mitch’s business partner,
Jager would have gone for Mitch years ago when he’d first met him. He was one
of those kinds of icons that exuded that sqeaky-clean, boy-next-door kind of
image while at the same time making fans—and Jager—fantasize about
having wild, no-holds-barred sex with him.

He slipped on
his sandals, slapped on some cologne and took one quick inspection of himself
in the mirror. “Shit, you look like some slobbering, eager teen headed out the
door to his first date with the damn prom queen.”

Jager rolled his
eyes and swiped up the key card from the dresser. Prom queen? Anjelee? He
laughed, let himself out of the room and walked out onto the balconied corridor
and into the thick, humid night air.

He halted his
steps. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey back,”
Anjelee said huskily as she pulled their door shut. “What’s so funny?”

Naughty Anjelee
playing chaste prom queen, that’s what.

“Nothing.
Nothing.”

She and Keefer
were just emerging from their room. She wore a teeny black leather…dress? Jager
wasn’t certain that’s what the barely-there garment would be classified as in a
fashion catalogue, but at least the lace-up mini-skirt portion of it had him
thinking “dress”. He scanned the strategically placed, crisscrossed straps and small
triangles covering her nipples and crotch. She slinked a step ahead on
six-inch, spiked black heels and he got a full-on view of her little ass
peeping out from yet more crossed straps. He could see the shadowed crevice
between her ass cheeks, and a white stone of some sort winked at him from the
top of t-back panties.

A tingle raced
from the tip of his cock and settled deep inside his loins. Jesus, she looked
good enough to eat.

“Ready for the
contest?” Keefer asked, falling in step beside Jager. Anjelee sashayed ahead of
them. She shook her rear end and flipped her loose hair behind her shoulders.

Jager gave
Keefer a sweeping look from head, to flip-flops, to head again. He had his long,
dark hair secured back in a low ponytail. He thought of a wild and free
American Indian racing across the plains on an Appaloosa. Keefer wore a white
knit tank top similar to the one Jager had chosen for himself, and it
emphasized every bulging muscle and rippled plane of his torso. Whoa, and his
beautifully tattooed arms stood out and spoke for themselves, screaming,
“Power. Strength. Domination”. Jager could well imagine them wrapped around his
hips holding him hostage while that full mouth closed around Jager’s cock and
deep-throated him the way many men had in his past.

Yet somehow he
knew intimate contact with this man would be different. Better. Way, way
better.

Jager’s heart
fluttered behind his breastbone. The tingling in his groin increased to a low
roar. His shaft started to fill with blood and tented his shorts.

Get a hold of yourself, man.

He ran his gaze
down the profile of Keefer’s firm ass. Ah, yes, one way or another, he sensed
this man would be unlike any other man Jager had indulged in before now. Aside
from the slightly full lips, there wasn’t a single, even vaguely feminine
quality about him.

He exuded all
man,
just the way Jager liked his men.

Then there was
the way he liked his women...

Jager’s eyes
moved back to Anjelee as she daintily gripped the stair railing, her long
fingernails painted with blood-red polish. He rushed to her side and reached
for her hand to assist her down the steps.

Now, she wasn’t
his usual type. But hell, she sure did intrigue him.

“Thank you,” she
offered with a wink of her heavily outlined eyes. Her pouty lips were colored
red to match her nails, and he imagined what it would be like to look down and
see that mouth ringed around his erection while those fuck-me eyes peered up at
him with an innocent animal’s hunger. It suddenly occurred to him that despite
her tough-girl attitude, she was somehow more woman than any he’d ever known in
his entire thirty-four years of life.

He licked his
lips and took a deep breath to calm the excitement building in his gut. Oh,
yeah, combine her overt sensuality with Keefer’s extreme manliness, and Jager
was so in for it.

“To answer your
question, Keefer,” he said over his shoulder while the satiny texture of her
hand caressed his palm, “no, I’m not ready to get on stage. Never will be for
something like that. I’m used to working for entertainers, not being one
myself. Typically stay in the background for damn sure. Watching. I like to
watch, kind of like you, I guess.”

His eyes
rose
to the level a few steps above Anjelee and met Keefer’s
penetrating stare. The fathomless pools twinkled back at Jager, and he knew
Keefer understood that Jager referred to Keefer’s voyeurism at the gym.

“Mmm, yeah,”
Keefer agreed. “Watching’s almost as exciting as participating.”

They took
another half-flight of stairs down to the lower level and crossed a large patio
to the beachside terrace dining area. Music and laughter floated on the humid
night air. The briny scent of sea entwined with tropical fruits and the aroma
of roasting pig and spicy jerk chicken. Jager’s stomach growled. He was hungry.
In more ways than one.

“Let’s hit the
bar, then, if you’re a bit anxious about the contest,” Keefer suggested. He
veered toward the little hut-style bar set up beneath the stars and overlooking
the surf. “Get a few in you and you’ll be stripping off your clothes on stage
in no time.”

Jager chuckled.
“Uh, no, that’ll never happen. But a nice, stiff martini’ll work wonders, I’m
sure.”

“Stiff, huh?”
Keefer and Anjelee asked in unison. They followed it with harmonious laughter
and a deep look into each other’s eyes that spoke of admiration, mutual
understanding and many years of acquaintance. In that one glance, warmth poured
out between them, and an instinctual connection was revealed, one that only
lifetime lovers or friends would know without having to speak the words.

Jager fielded a
peculiar stab of jealousy. It emphasized the fact that he stood on the outside
looking in on something envious, something precious. Not exactly the kind of
voyeurism he preferred. Silly, he knew, but there it was. Suppressing the
annoying new sensation, he slid onto a bamboo barstool and caught a whiff of
Anjelee’s sexy perfume when she sat to his right. Keefer claimed the seat on
her right, sandwiching her between the two men.

“Well, will ya
just look at this place—no, specifically, look at the company I’m
keeping.
Who wouldn’t be stiff?” Jager asked, waving the
bartender over.

“Wow, thanks.
Somewhere in there, I think that was just about the best compliment I’ve ever
had in my life,” Anjelee replied with a devastating grin. To the bartender, she
said, “Three chocolate martinis, please.”

Jager leaned
forward to include Keefer in his line of vision. “Chocolate?”

“Yeah, it’s her
favorite. But don’t worry, it’s no pussy drink,” Keefer offered, shaking his
head. “Man, talk about stiff. After one or two, especially the way Devon makes
them, you’ll be all warmed up and ready to perform on stage all night long.”

Jager shook his
head. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Ha. Just wait
and see,” Anjelee warned as she readjusted her skimpy outfit and pushed up her
perky breasts.

“Yep, she’s
right. Anj is always right.” As he spoke, Keefer watched Devon mix the
ingredients in a stainless steel container and give it a shake. Devon poured
the pale-brown, milky liquid in three glasses while Keefer reached into his
pocket and drew out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Jager generally wasn’t
attracted to smokers, but then he scrutinized Keefer clamping the cigarette
between his teeth. He flicked on the lighter, cupped the flame and inhaled to
ignite the tip. Keefer tossed aside the lighter and blew out a puff of smoke.
He peered at Jager through the dissipating gray cloud, so male, so
good-looking, so damn appealing.

Ah, there went
his balls, tightening and throbbing in approval.

In spite of
Jager’s main purpose for being here, what happened next couldn’t be stopped.
But Jager realized that he didn’t want to stop it, not at that moment anyway.
His eyes met Keefer’s, their souls practically joined. In that instant,
something passed between them, an understanding, a clicking of minds,
a
mutual attraction for each other that couldn’t be denied.
They broke the spell and briefly touched their gazes to Anjelee, who sat
chattering away about how happy Karibu
Resort
made her
and how much she loved the Jamaican culture and atmosphere. Their eyes met
again, and it was then that Jager knew it was unanimous knowledge that Anjelee
was the one special link that drew the men together and held them in place.
Neither man—both admittedly bisexual and in need of a man and a
woman—could be together without her as their glue. She would be the
central heat of this unique relationship that was forming.