Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday

by Rachelle Ayala

  She was fit to die and go to heaven when Ken lowered his lips to the line between her breasts. Skillful fingers untied the bikini top, and the second his tongue encircled one nipple, Jolie almost shot off the bed. He palmed her other breast and sucked slowly, deep and full, drawing out her nipple and rolling his tongue around the tip.

  Jolie’s eyes closed and she arched her head back at the pleasure assaulting her with his heavy cock resting on her thigh, twitching for attention, full of luscious promise.

  Could she handle it? She wasn’t that experienced. What if she was a dud in bed? She swallowed hard and stiffened as anxiety flooded her and the pleasure of his fondling diminished.

  “Hey, you okay?” Ken lifted his head, his caring eyes blinking softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, I’m not that experienced. I’m not a virgin, but I’ve only ever been with you know, the douche canoe.”

  “That makes two of us.” He nuzzled her earlobe.

  “You mean, you’ve been with the douchebag, too?” she joked.

  “No, I chased tubular waves over women. Surfing is exhausting, and when your balls are freezing in cold water for hours at a time, you’re not in the mood to do more than warm up and sleep.”

  “You warm them up with a woman?”

  “I wish.” He shook his head, his blond hair dipping into his eyes. “The places I surfed, no sane woman would hang at. I venture to places no one else dares to surf, which means camping on windswept beaches with no amenities or creature comforts.”

  “No high rise hotels, paved roads, and facilities?”

  “Exactly. There’s no way you’re going to be outshined by anyone. But if I suck, well, guess you can kick me out of the bed.”

  “Oh, you can keep sucking,” Jolie said, heartened at Ken’s humbleness when it came to sex. Too many men were arrogant, as if they were God’s gift in that department. Usually those types thought all they needed were a set of biceps and a hammering penis. Warren sure didn’t work for her fulfillment, quitting after a few pathetic attempts and blaming her for being unresponsive, before falling asleep.

  “I’ll suck until you’re screaming for me to stop.” He nosed his way from her breasts to her belly button, kissing and licking, blowing softly. Goosebumps raised over her as he approached her bikini line. She was fully waxed in preparation for her wedding night, and even though this was a few nights later, she was still as bare as a baby’s bottom.

  Instead of lowering her bikini bottom, he rubbed his face back and forth, kissing her mound and nipping her thighs. She held her breath, waiting as he ran his sturdy fingers up and down her legs, lazily.

  Her body strained, crying for more, for him to center on the nub of pleasure throbbing for his attention. Why was he such a tease?

  “Stop holding your breath, my bride.” He whispered to her lips below. The vibrations of his voice were enough to make her squirm.

  If she were only bold enough to remove her own bikini bottom as casually as he took off his shorts. She looked down at him, at his sculpted perfection and the cock pointed proudly at her and the heavy balls behind it. How she wanted to palm them, to touch, and fondle, to make him lose control and brand her with his love.

  Stop being a pussy, she chided herself. If she wanted him to lose control, she had to make the first leap.

  Decision made, she lifted her hips and kicked off her bikini bottom, watching for his reaction at her waxed bareness.

  He sucked in a breath, licked his lips and instantly plunged his face between her legs.

  Ah … sweet pleasure. She spread her legs, no longer caring whether he liked what he saw or not. His tongue flicked the length of her slit, teasing open her lips, before settling on her clit. He flicked it gently, shooting sparks over her body. She gasped as electricity arced over her, blinding her with feral need.

  She grabbed ahold of his shoulders, barely aware of his bobbing head between her legs. His mouth and tongue dipped and sucked, firing her up to blast point. Wanton with passion, she jerked her hips up and down in a frenzy as she rode his tongue with a wildness she’d never experienced.

  Intense sensations flooded her with ecstasy and all she sought was that rush of climax as she clamped her legs around his head and wiggled her crotch against his face. When he inserted a finger, rubbing it over her inner walls, she practically flew off the bed.

  “Ken, Ken,” she panted, close to the edge of her universe.

  He kissed her hard around her clit and shoved a second finger in. She liquefied, pulsing and pulsing around the fingers he pumped in and out of her white hot core. Rocked by the most exquisite orgasm, only a single thought went through her mind.

  Surprises were awesome.

  Ken licked the hot lava juices Jolie spewed with volcanic force, smiling to himself. He’d never made a woman come with such ease. Jolie was so responsive, she was made for him.

  He lifted himself and marveled at the flush reddening her skin from head to toe. “You’re so beautiful, so pink and perfect.”

  She reached up for him, and his heart expanded, loving the way she beckoned. Her face was sweetness and satiation, her eyes glazed and focused intently on him, taking in his every move.

  Her lips, half pouting and half smiling made his balls ache and his cock twitch. Reaching over to the nightstand, he found a wrapped condom and handed it to her.

  His gaze smothering her, he lowered his face to her, forehead to forehead. “I want you, Jolie, to be my bride, not only for tonight, but on our own real honeymoon.”

  “Real honeymoon?”

  He nodded. He shouldn’t take advantage of her while still in the afterglow of an orgasm, but before he made love to her, he had to know she was into him, too.

  She blinked, those beautiful eyes of hers changing from blue-gray to blue-green, and dangled the condom in his face. “You want an answer? Now?”

  “It would make the difference between me fucking you or making love to you.” His voice rasped in his tightening throat. He hadn’t thought she would say no. After all, he had her where he wanted her.

  “If you’re my groom, then you can do both.” She tore the wrapper.

  When she touched his cock and stretched the condom over it, he closed his eyes at the raging inferno heating up inside his veins.

  Catching her in his arms, he turned on his back and placed her slick entrance above him.

  Her mouth gaped as she stared down at his upright cock. “I’m not sure I know what to do.”

  “Ride it, sweetie. Ease yourself down. I’m putting you in control.”

  Her breasts jiggled, and her chest heaved. She sucked in a breath as he picked up his cock and held it against her. He wasn’t making it easy for her, but he knew she’d appreciate the control.

  Besides, it was a heck of a lot sexier to watch her lower herself.

  “Kiss me, bride.” He pursed his lips, inviting her to press herself against him.

  She did, closing her eyes, and when she moved forward, she took in the tip. A low groan escaped his throat. She was so tight.

  He wrapped his fingers around her hair and pulled her closer, jerking his hips so that she opened another inch or so. Sweet paradise, her movement sent shock waves radiating from his cock to his heart.

  “Ride me, bride. Ride me until we come apart. Let me love you, Jolie, go, go, go,” he urged her until he was fully inside her heated channel.

  Her eyes opened with wonder, and her hair tangled over her shoulders and breasts, cascading onto his chest. He held her hips, grinding his pubic bone against her clit while bolts of electric pleasure coursed through his body.

  Moaning low and throaty, she threw her head back and rode, rubbing herself faster, up and down as her tits jiggled and bounced, and her butt cheeks slapped his balls. Looking down, he was treated to the sight of him piercing her bare pussy, over and over again as she rode harder and faster, a fire goddess bent on another volcanic eruption.

  Her walls clenched him, rubbing him with a bu
rning friction. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was losing it, unable to control the inferno blazing inside him. He was hurtling toward the edge, too fast, too hot, but he was lost, too lost in passion and everything Jolie.

  He grabbed her breasts and flicked his thumbs over her nipples, pinching them and driving her so crazy she howled a series of guttural cries before shattering. Her walls tightened, pulsing around his exploding cock.

  He shoved himself up hard, shuddering from spurt after spurt of a natural high so high he burst apart into thousands of shards, each piercing his heart with a drug so potent and addicting that only his bride, Jolie Becker Cassidy, could satisfy.

  She collapsed over him, breathing raggedly, her sweat mingled with his. She kissed him, her lips moving languidly.

  Ken kissed her back, lazily, loving the afterglow. He was still half hard when she lifted off him and then immediately lay on top of him, gifting him the sweetest after sex cocktail he’d ever tasted.

  It was only when drowsiness washed over him, that he remembered she hadn’t answered his proposal, because that was what it was, wasn’t it? A real honeymoon meant real bride and groom, joined in marriage, which meant a real wedding and a real life afterward.

  Sixteen

  Jolie locked herself in the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. What had she done?

  In the other room, Ken lay, still naked, asleep. Of course, she’d purposely put him to sleep with her kisses. She hadn’t wanted to talk, didn’t want to answer his question.

  Had he really meant for this to be their real honeymoon? Was that a proposal? Or just a way to get between her legs?

  She’d never been with a man who unsettled her more than Ken. And to think she had come all over his face and then again while riding him like a screaming banshee? Sheesh, what was this world coming to?

  This wild woman wasn’t her. She was the careful one. The one who dotted her I’s and crossed her T’s. Had she even checked if the condom hadn’t ripped?

  Her usual climaxes were measured and self-administered, controlled by the level she allowed, oftentimes no more than a polite sneeze, not the internal combustion that had just rocked her world.

  Her body still humming with the throes of what Ken did to her, she texted Nikki.

  Hey, I might have made the biggest mistake in my life. Can you help?

  If they were planning on going marlin fishing, it meant they were still in the area. Maybe she could bunk with them tonight, and let things cool off between her and Ken.

  She’d been dumped by one groom; neither her heart nor her soul could take another dousing. If Ken was playacting, she didn’t want to know. Better to cut her losses before he woke up and denied everything.

  A text from Nikki came in. Are you saying you slept with him?

  Jolie’s face heated and prickles fried her sunburned skin. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. She placed a voice call to clarify.

  “You know what time it is?” Nikki answered the phone. “Carol and I have to wake up early.”

  “Let me go with you. Where are you staying? What room are you in?”

  “You did sleep with him.” Nikki giggled. “I bet it was so awesome, you lost control. He finally got you out of your box.”

  “Shhh …” Jolie hissed. “Don’t say anymore.”

  “Why? You’re going to deny it? You’re scared shitless and you’re going to run, even go fishing with us when all you’d do is barf your insides out.”

  Nikki’s all-knowing tone grated over Jolie’s eardrum. She shifted the phone to her other ear. “I’m not running. In fact, I’m supposed to plan a surprise for him. I can’t think of a thing to do. Could you ask Carol what Ken likes to do besides surf?”

  “Quit changing the subject and go back to your man,” Nikki said. “Sounds like you’re hooked on surprises.”

  “Can you just get Carol?” Jolie had no comment for her dastardly friend who, for all she knew, had orchestrated the entire honeymoon charade. She might as well grin and bear it, go through with her end of the bargain to surprise Ken and rescue the remaining dregs of her honeymoon. At least she was doing something and not sitting around moping over her failed wedding.

  “Hello?” It was Carol. “Nikki says you need advice on an activity to surprise my brother with.”

  “I haven’t thought of anything yet,” Jolie said.

  “Good. I bet he hasn’t told you he has restrictions.”

  “Restrictions? You mean there are things he can’t do?” Now, Jolie’s curiosity was spiked. “He told me anything is good.”

  “I figured he would,” Carol said. “He never wants to inconvenience anyone, and he wants to seem brave and courageous.”

  “Go ahead.” What could Ken be afraid of? And why hadn’t he told her?

  “He’s afraid of heights. Don’t take him rock climbing or hiking where there aren’t any guard rails. The Diamond Head hike was relatively tame with rails and stairs, so he was okay there. But if he’s on a steep trail with no guardrail, he’ll freak out.”

  “Like that Stairway to Heaven hike I had on my list?” Somehow the thought that Ken wasn’t invincible calmed her.

  “That hike is illegal anyway. A lot of places are not maintained, and the way is treacherous. Don’t even think about it.” Carol’s voice tightened, probably remembering her own fall on Mt. Baldy.

  “Don’t worry,” Jolie said. “I’m not a rule breaker.”

  “That’s good,” Carol said. “You have a good time, you hear?”

  The bathroom door rattled, and Ken called, “Jolie, are you okay?”

  Shit. Carol would hear the banging on the door and think they’d had a fight. She had to get off the phone.

  “Sorry about waking you guys up,” Jolie said. “Text me where you’re staying and we can meet for lunch.”

  “Sure thing. Good luck with my brother.”

  Jolie said goodbye and slipped the phone back in her purse.

  Ken knocked on the door. “Jolie, honey, what’s the matter?”

  “Everything’s fine. I had to use the bathroom. Go back to bed.”

  “Come back and cuddle with me. I’m not finished with you.” His deep, rough voice made her tingle in all the right and wrong places.

  She threw open the door. Why not? Whatever predicament she was in, another round of sex wasn’t going to make anything worse.

  His heated presence filled the bathroom as his grin spurred her lust to rise.

  “Want to try another position, my bride?” He tilted his head in the direction of the bed.

  “Sure, groom, let’s do it some more.” She leaped into his arms and licked his neck as he carted her back to the bed. As long as she kept him too busy to talk about serious things, she could handle the rest of the honeymoon.

  Maybe.

  Seventeen

  Many positions later, Jolie lay satiated in Ken’s arms, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. If he was half as exhausted as she, they’d need to take an easy day to recover from all the loving.

  “What do you say we lounge at the beach tomorrow?” He nuzzled her earlobe. It was amazing how he was always in tune with her thoughts, almost like he could read her mind. “We can rent a couple of longboards and I can teach you how to paddle and ride the waves.”

  “Sounds heavenly.” She stretched in his arms and hummed. “I didn’t tell you before, but I’m afraid of being dragged out to sea. Being held underwater scares me.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” He kissed her temple and stroked her hair. “You have nothing to worry about. The beach I’m taking you to is so shallow you can walk all the way out to where the waves break.”

  “Wouldn’t that be boring for you, Mr. Champion Surfer?”

  “Not at all. Watching the expression on your face when you get up and ride a wave will be worth it.” He kissed her again, fingers caressing her.

  He acted the part of devoted groom with aplomb. Always kissing and touching, he made her feel
cherished and loved. But this was now, while everything was fresh and new. He’d tire of her dietary restrictions, her obsessions, fears, and uptightness. She had to see just how much he’d put up with, and now would be the time, while still in the honeymoon stage.

  “Ken?” she asked as his breathing steadied and his eyes closed.

  “Uhmmm …” he mumbled, a smile still on his lips.

  “What happens after this honeymoon’s over?” It was just like her not to be able to relax and let things flow.

  “We go home and keep doing this.” He grinned, cupping her breast and caressing it.

  “Is this just sex for you?” Or even worse, a paid career.

  “Is it for you?” He touched her cheek with the tip of his finger.

  “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “I know you’re not,” he said. “I’ve a confession to make.”

  Jolie’s heart jumped to attention and her stomach cringed. If he had been paid and admitted it, then she was not precious in his eyes, nor did he really consider her limitations—he was only putting up with them for money.

  “Don’t look so nervous.” He gave her a peck on the temple and rubbed her arm with a calming motion. “You might think I’m moving fast with you, making love to you and asking you to make this our real honeymoon.”

  “Well, yeah, that is pretty speedy,” she admitted. “We barely know each other.”

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten me, but I’m the boy in your Cinderella play, the fat one who played the pumpkin.”

  Whatever Jolie had expected, this was not it. She was pillow-talking with a pumpkin?

  She squinted to get a better look at the hunk in front of her. No way was he that chubby kid with the buck teeth and double chin. But then, the eyes, almost teal blue like the sea, seemed familiar. Her skin flushed as she recalled the bullies chasing him through the schoolyard.

  “You were Ken Dog?”