by Meghan Quinn
“Don’t worry, I coated it on.”
“Smart.”
Just as we turn around, a waitress brings us our drinks along with a little note. She hands it to Leah then walks away. “What is that?” I ask, trying to get a look.
“It’s from Tyler. Says to have a great time and he’ll try to make it down a little later. Such a good guy.”
“This Tyler, does he happen to have a crush on you?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Uh-huh. Now it’s all making sense. This cabana, the food, the drinks, he’s totally trying to win you over.”
She sips her drink and flips her hair to the side. “It’s working.”
Even though she might seem a little flippant, Leah is a good person with a genuine heart. When I was telling her about my dead-end job and wanting more, she went out of her way to make this opportunity happen for me. I owe her a lot, so if that means dressing in a bathing suit that makes me extremely uncomfortable and self-conscious, I will.
“Let’s sit down and wait for the other girls. Unless you’re hungry now, we can order something.”
There is no way I’ll be eating while wearing this bathing suit. I shouldn’t even be drinking, to avoid any chance of bloating.
“I’m good for now, thanks.”
“Okay, well—” She sits up and lifts her sunglasses, her attention drawn forward. “Oh, sweet Jesus. Look at the wave of deliciousness coming our way.”
With the hand holding her drink, she lifts her index finger and points to a group of men coming our way. I have to block the sun to get a good look and when I do . . . oh . . . my . . . God.
Four men walk our way, all wearing nothing but board shorts, sandals, and aviators. Hair clipped short, not a sign of facial hair anywhere, and their beautifully built bodies are highlighted under the sun, each contour and ridge flexing with every step they take. In a pack-like formation, they walk in sync, their smiles contagious, and their board shorts dangerously tight.
Oh, sweet Jesus is right.
“They’re coming this way,” I say under my breath. “Think they’re going to be in the cabana next to us?”
“If God loves us, they will be.”
Using the sunglasses as a shield, I keep my head forward but my eyes trained on the men, my entire body breaking out in a sweat with every step closer.
The one at the front, leading the way, spots us, a giant, sinful grin spreading across his face as he tips his sunglasses down and takes us both in, pure trouble flashing in his eyes. He reeks of danger, the kind of danger you don’t mind having, but not the kind of danger you take home to your parents.
They close in on the space between us, their legs long, their torsos glistening, and when they’re a few feet away, the guy in the front addresses us while lifting his glasses completely off his face revealing a gorgeous pair of blue yes. “Are you two beautiful ladies our neighbors?” He motions to the cabana next to us.
Legs bents, and super casual, Leah sits up and tilts her head to the side. “I guess so. And who might you be?”
The ringleader motions to his chest and says, “I’m Rowdy. The boys behind me are Colt, Bent, and the goliath back there is Balboa.”
Why do those names sound familiar? I study their frames, the way they carry themselves, the lift of their chins and the confidence in their chests. It’s so familiar. Almost as if I’m experiencing déjà vu.
“What brings you to the pool today?” Leah asks. “In town visiting?”
Bent shakes his head as the other guys nod at us and then disperse into the cabana, opening up drinks and chowing down on the little snacks already laid out for them.
“No, we live here. We all work . . .” His voice fades away as I spot one very familiar figure walking in our direction.
Corded chest, thick pecs, rippling abs, and a set of aviators resting on a chiseled face. My hands have been all over that body, my mouth once caressed that skin, and I’ve seen what’s underneath those dark green swim trunks.
Sitting up as well, I take him in, the way he powerfully walks across the pool deck, his hair pushed to the side, short and trimmed, and the sway of his strong biceps at his side, the same biceps I’ve held on to. That body gave me one of the best sexual experiences of my life. The man is a god in bed.
Colby Brooks.
What are the odds?
“Fighter pilots, really?” Leah asks. “Wow, I’ve lived here for ten years and not once have I run into a fighter pilot. This is pretty cool.”
“Hey man,” Colby says, walking up to Bent and patting him on the shoulder, not paying us any attention.
“Flyer, you made it. Christ, I thought I was going to have to drag you out of your house. Drinks are chilling, and I’m having a friendly conversation with our neighbors.” His face scrunches up. “Shit, I didn’t catch your names.”
Stepping in, Leah says, “I’m Leah and this is my good friend, Ryan.”
Colby is halfway to the cabana when he pauses and turns his head to the side when Leah says my name. He locks his eyes on me. Lifting his glasses, he takes a closer look and then, “Ryan?”
Spotted.
“Hey, Colby.” I wave, my fingers weirdly twiddling at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“You two know each other?” Rowdy asks, his eyes bouncing between us.
Do we know each other? Yeah, we might know each other a little too well. We were friends by association and then spent twenty-four hours together, where I seduced him with porn and got to feel what it was like to have him powerfully driving into me. It was a night like I’d never experienced before.
But it was nice the way we left it, a platonic goodbye and understanding for the night we shared. No strings attached.
“We’re both from Colorado Springs,” he answers.
I add, “He dated my best friend, Rory.”
“Ah.” Rowdy knowingly nods his head.
Repeating his question, Colby says, “What are you doing here? On vacation?”
I shake my head and pull my knees into my chest, wanting to hide my body from all the new eyes. “I actually moved here.”
“What?” His brow creases and closes the distance between us. “You moved here?”
“Yeah, um, this week.”
“And you weren’t going to contact me?”
“Yeah, you weren’t going to call him?” Leah asks, poking me from behind. “Hell, give me his number, and I’ll call him to let him know you’re here.”
Is Leah a comedian today? Jeeze.
Colby is super loyal, and even though we might not be the best of friends, there is no doubt in my mind that he believes I’m a part of his life from being associated with Rory, so the simmering irritation about to boil over is something I don’t want to see happen in front of Leah and his friends. This needs to be a private conversation.
Even though I’m practically naked and oddly self-conscious, I unfold myself from the lounge chair and nod with my head toward Leah’s cabana.
“Don’t leave. It was just getting good,” Rowdy calls out as we make our way into the cabana.
“I agree, don’t leave,” Leah joins in.
We ignore both of them.
Hands clasped together, I spin around and almost come face to face with Colby, a very angry-looking Colby. Eyebrows tilted downward, jaw clenched, and a tension rolling in his shoulders he leans forward, venom in his voice. “Ryan, what the hell are you wearing?”
The way he asks—with that specific tone of voice—reminds me of how my mom would talk to me. It sets off a layer of anger I wasn’t expecting to feel today, not when I thought we’d have a nice day drinking and lounging by the pool.
I place my hand on my hip, lift my chin, and say, “What does it matter?”
Not answering right away, his eyes rake up my body, settling on my cleavage for a breath before scanning my neck to my face. He licks his lips and leans forward. “It’s asking for trouble, Ryan.”
I get it,
Colby is a good guy and a protector, but I don’t need his protection.
“How about instead of lecturing me, you give me a hug and tell me how nice it is to see me.”
The muscle in Colby’s jaw ticks a few beats before he sighs, pulls me in by the hip, and gives me a hug, both arms wrapped around me, providing a familiar temporary shelter. My hands go to his bare back, where I revel in the feel of his skin under my palms.
It’s been three months since I’ve had sex. Three months. And the last person I had sex with is holding me right now. I thought I wanted to do the no-boy thing, but for some reason, with Colby wrapped around me, I might reconsider that since a spark is igniting deep in my stomach.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks when he pulls away.
I adjust a strap on my bathing suit and say, “I didn’t want you to think I was some desperate girl who followed you to the desert, especially after the night we shared.” I whisper the last part of that sentence.
“Isn’t that it? Couldn’t go another day without seeing me so now you’re playing cool?” I’m caught off guard for a second before he grins at me.
Playfully, I swat his stomach. “You ass, I thought you were serious for a second.”
He chuckles. “So that’s not it?”
“No.” I fold my arms over my chest. “God, I’m not pathetic. Leah, my friend, got me a job as a makeup artist for the variety show she works on. It was a huge opportunity I couldn’t refuse. It just happened to be in the same city you live in.”
“Seems suspicious.” He scratches his jaw.
“Shut up.” I push him, but he doesn’t move an inch, because he’s a solid piece of rock in sinful board shorts. “And what are you doing here? This adult pool party doesn’t seem like your type of fun.”
Tilting his head back, he scans the area. Drinks are poured, people in skimpy bathing suits dance, and there are some questionable things going on in the pool between what I’m hoping are couples, or soon to be one-night stands. When he turns back to me, he shakes my head. “So not my scene, but Rowdy begged me to come.”
Begged me to come.
God, I remember when I was practically begging him to come, his cock driving in and out of me. The thought warms my cheeks, sending a wave of heat up my spine.
“Well, you’re a good friend.” My voice sounds slightly strained from how dry my throat has suddenly become.
“If I didn’t at least make an appearance, I wouldn’t have heard the end of it, so here I am.”
“It’s good for you. Plus, you got to see me, so that’s a plus.”
“It is.” He licks his lips and nods toward the couch. “Want to sit?”
“Sure.” I snag a water for both of us and take a seat next to Colby, making sure to position my body so it’s in the most flattering position.
Once we’re settled, Colby asks, “So were you ever going to let me know you lived here?”
“Maybe, but not right away. I’m actually kind of surprised.”
“Surprised at what?” He takes a gulp from his water and I watch, fascinated, as his throat works the water down into his stomach.
“Uh, Stryder said he was going to call you to let you know I was here, but I made him promise not to call you. I really wanted to do this on my own.”
“He was going to call and didn’t? The fucker.”
“Don’t blame him. I threatened him.”
“Doesn’t matter. We look out for our own, and he should have told me.”
Our own. For some reason, that makes me really happy, especially since the only two people I’ve ever called my own are in Colorado; my dad and Rory.
Playfully I push his knee. “Are you saying I’m part of your squad, Colby?”
“Maybe.” He slouches in the chair, legs spread wide, hands relaxed in his lap. The difference of Colby now than when I first met him is like night and day. When he was at the Air Force Academy, he was toned and muscular, but now, years later, time has done him well.
There is a rugged air about him, a more masculine vibe, like he’s been to hell and back and survived.
Maybe he has. I have no clue how many deployments he’s had or what he’s really done in that airplane, but I know he’s different, a little more relaxed. He’s not as guarded and seems willing to open up quicker than when he was going out with Rory.
Is he more relaxed because he’s finally flying? Doing what he’s always wanted to do?
Now I’m here in Vegas, ready to start my new journey, I can feel how much more relaxed I am, on some things. I’ve always been outgoing and ready for the next greatest adventure, but instead of carrying around this overwhelming pressure to do more, I can ease up just a little.
“Who’s your friend?” the big guy I think named Balboa asks, coming into our cabana, his boys following close behind, besides the one named Bent who is lounging in the cabana next door.
“Yeah, what’s her name?” Colt, I think, asks.
Glancing up, clutching his water, Colby speaks with finality in his voice. “No.”
“No, what?” Balboa asks. “Need I remind you who you’re dating?”
Colby is dating someone? Interesting. According to Rory, who heard from Stryder, Colby hasn’t dated anyone since they were together, so this is a surprise. I wonder who the lucky girl is.
An exasperated sigh leaves Colby before he shifts and smooths his board shorts down. “This is Ryan, my friend from Colorado. She’s off limits.”
“Why?” Colt asks, giving me a once-over, his Texan drawl intriguing.
“Yeah, why?” I add playfully.
Acting casual, but stern, he takes a sip of his water and points to the guys. “They’re players, and you’re not the playing type. Not on my watch.”
And with those words of protection, my heart relaxes in my chest, and the arid, dry, hot-as-hell weather of Las Vegas starts to feel like home.
* * *
Colby wasn’t kidding when he said I was off limits. Any time one of his friends tried to talk to me, he would budge in right away and keep a watchful eye. It has gotten to the point now where Colby just sticks to my side, never letting me be alone with any of the guys.
Are they really that much of players that Colby can’t let me have a simple conversation with them?
From the way they’re flirting mercifully with Leah’s friends, I’m going to guess yes.
Two women sit on Balboa’s legs in their strappy and incredibly skimpy bathing suits, each of his hands circling around their narrow waists, their boobs thrust forward, perfect for his viewing pleasure. Colt is hanging out with a brunette wearing a lime-green bathing suit that does nothing to hide her incredibly hard nipples. Hello, areola. Rowdy is chatting it up with Colby and me while Bent seems to be observing our little crowd.
The entertainer for sure, Rowdy has to be the life of the party, making sure everyone’s drinks are full and having a good time. Our cabanas have converged, and now we’re having one giant cabana party, which I don’t mind since the girls here don’t seem to want to talk to me. That’s fine. I’ll stick with Colby.
“Shot?” Rowdy asks, holding out a tray to me.
“Always,” I answer, taking a blue one and downing it in one quick tilt of my head.
Rowdy nods his head in appreciation and offers the tray to Colby who shakes his head no. “What, you’re not going to keep up with your girl?”
“I drove here, and I’m sure I’ll be driving you idiots home, so I’m good.”
I grab another shot and hand it to Colby. “It’s called Uber. Live a little, Colby.”
He eyes the liquid substance, contemplating his intake. I nudge it toward his lips. A low growl comes out of him when he takes the shot glass from me. “Last time I did shots with you, we got in trouble.”
“Oh?” Rowdy’s eyes widen as he takes another shot. “What kind of trouble?”
“Yeah, what kind of trouble?” Bent asks. He’s the silent guy who’s been sitting in the corner observing. Apparently
he’s the squadron leader; that’s what I’ve been told, at least.
“None of your business,” Colby shoots back and then downs the shot, wincing from the flavor. “Fuck, that was nasty. What was that?”
“Razz-a-ma-tazz shot. Didn’t like it?”
Wiping his mouth with his big paw, Colby says, “Tasted like cleaning supplies. Don’t offer me another one of those.”
There is a little knock against the wood of the cabana. Standing just outside the space is a petite, fair woman with platinum-blonde hair tied in French braids, wearing a white, flowy maxi dress and cute cat-eye sunglasses.
“Sage.” Colby stands immediately and walks to her where he pulls her into a hug, his large body easily eclipsing her tiny one. His large hand falls to the small of her back as he places a light kiss on the top of her head and brings her forward.
This must be the girl he’s dating.
She’s . . . God, she looks like an angel—gorgeous and pristine.
I suck in my bottom lip, wishing I wasn’t wearing this barely there bathing suit. I don’t mind showing skin, but as Sage walks closer, I can feel my inner self picking apart every piece of my outfit and how I look in it. I think I need to grab my cover-up.
The boys welcome Sage as I stand just in time for her to take me all in.
“Sage, this is Ryan, my friend from Colorado.”
With a polite smile, she lends out her hand. I take it in mine as she says, “Ryan, it’s so nice to meet you.”
Her voice matches her demeanor—sweet and angelic.
“Sage, nice to meet you.” Colby has his hand protectively around her waist, his eyes cast down, a small smile ticking at the corner of his lips.
Huh.
It’s weird seeing Colby with someone else. I get it, I know we had sex; but that was only two people feeling in the moment. This is different. Colby likes this girl and the only other time I’ve seen him show this side of him was when he was with Rory, so it feels . . . weird.
The only way to describe it.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it,” Colby says as they take a seat. I quickly snatch my cover-up out of my bag and throw it on, grateful for the coverage.