So why wasn’t he watching them?
She slipped then, and two of the men “accidentally” slipped with her. The mango was on her stomach and the men weren’t giving up on the relay. One man tried to tuck the mango under his chin, which had the fortunate side effect of pushing his face right into her breasts. He took his sweet time trying to capture the soft piece of fruit. Her other teammate was urging him to push the fruit between her breasts, breasts he was helpfully holding and pushing together to form a trap of sorts. The third teammate jumped in—literally—at this point and straddled her legs, which were thrashing around as she squealed hysterically under the ministrations of the other two. Her hands were trapped beneath the men and she bucked and gasped as they continued to have their merry way with her.
Cam found himself getting more than a little aroused, which made no sense. She was apparently having a great deal of fun, which was fine for her, but forcibly holding a woman down and having his way with her had never been high on his list of fantasies. In fact, it wasn’t on the list at all. But there was something almost…primal about watching her squirm beneath their joint attentions. Not that he wanted to join in. If he were ever of the mind to try something like that, he was fairly certain he’d want to be the only man in the scenario trying it.
And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. There were other couples in far more sexually explicit contortions, several of whom had long since forgotten about the mango and, for that matter, the race altogether. They were far too busy licking juices off one another…among other things.
But his gaze kept going back to her. Maybe it was the shrieks. The men were laughing with her and no one appeared to be doing anything they weren’t all enjoying. He should go back down the other path now and investigate the source of those pleasure gasps and moans he’d heard. But just then her head reared up, and despite the squeals of what sounded like delight, what he saw in her eyes was full-blown panic.
His desire to be a bad boy and go back to his wanton-woman hunt warred mightily with the instincts telling him she needed help. “Well, it doesn’t have to be my help,” he muttered to himself. There were plenty of club employees—pleasure directors he’d discovered they were called, P.D.’s for short—observing the action. All she had to do was call out and one of them could rescue her.
Her head thrashed wildly from side to side, her wide eyes searching for something—someone? A P.D. maybe? She opened her mouth, perhaps to call out, but it was immediately claimed by the man now on top of her, who’d finally rolled the mango up beneath their joint chins. Her face was blocked from him then, but the way she bucked and kicked told him she was not as willing a participant in this as he’d thought. He doubted her partner—partners, actually—had any clue. If he hadn’t seen her eyes, he wouldn’t have known either. And he knew they weren’t interested in what her eyes held as much as what the remnants of her super bra did.
He should call one of the directors. It was the sensible thing to do, then he could go on with his night. So why, a moment later, he was the one wading into the fray, was beyond him. Two P.D.’s were on him immediately, genially pulling him back, all smiles as they told him he’d have to go join in at the end of the line. He tried to tell them he didn’t want to play, that he was trying to help someone.
“Sir, we’re sorry, but if your girlfriend chose to play, that’s her prerogative. You know the rules. You’ll have to discuss it with her when it’s over, but you can’t disrupt the—”
He yanked his arms free. “She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even know her! I just noticed she was in trouble—never mind.” He was only a foot or so away at that point, so he lunged and was on top of the man on top of her a second later. He tried not to think about the mango juices now ruining his linen shirt. He managed to slide the man off her, using one bare foot to dislodge the man holding her legs and a good forearm to the chest to get the third one off of her.
“Hey, dude, what the hell—”
“You can’t just—”
“What the—?”
But he didn’t care about the spluttering men, or the P.D.’s. Suddenly he realized that now he was the one directly on top of her. She was still thrashing, still thinking she was the main course in the mango buffet line.
“Hey, it’s okay. Stop. Stop!”
She paused just long enough to focus on his face. “You!”
Mango squished along his stomach. He grimaced. “Yeah, it’s me.”
She stopped thrashing and the P.D.’s finally gave up and redirected her other partners back to the game. Cam barely paid them any attention.
“We really have to stop meeting like this,” he said.
“I don’t believe I asked you to meet me anywhere, much less”—she squirmed a bit—“like this.”
His body responded sharply to the feel of her beneath him. Must be all that slippery skin. Anyone would react. “I just saved you from being made into a human smoothie and you act like—”
“Like a woman who didn’t ask to be saved?”
“Anyone could see you needed saving.”
“But only you thought it appropriate to barge into the middle of the game and ruin it.”
“Ruin it?” A quick glance proved that her teammates had indeed found another mango and a far more willing participant and weren’t wasting any time passing their fruit. “Hardly,” he said, looking back down at her. “In fact, I don’t think anyone’s even noticed.”
For just a brief second, something flickered in her eyes. Such a pale, pale blue, he noticed. And what he’d seen in them had been…hopelessness. Resignation.
She squirmed again. “You’re heavy,” she said pointedly. “Would you mind letting me up?”
His body jerked again as she rubbed against him, but he wanted nothing more than to dislodge himself from this melee and go back to being the captain of his own destiny. Which he was determined would have nothing more to do with hers. But instead he found himself staying right where he was, in the midst of fruit-flinging insanity, saying, “You had three men on you moments ago and you weren’t complaining.”
“It’s—not the same.”
“Why? Because I’m actually focused on you and all they were focused on was copping a feel? And maybe a lick or two?”
Her eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed. “I could have handled them.” Her jaw set. “With both hands tied behind my back.”
Visions of her tied up, with rivulets of thick mango juice running all over her creamy white skin, of him licking up each trickle, making her thrash and buck and shriek, only this time with no doubt as to whether she was enjoying it or not, exploded into his mind, completely uninvited.
Something of those thoughts must have registered on his face, because her pupils shot wide and she went completely still. And then he was leaning down, to do what, he had absolutely no idea. At the last possible second, she turned her head to the side and very quietly said, “Please. I want to get up. Now.”
It was that very quietness that had him moving off her. He was on his feet, helping her up, before he could assimilate the knowledge that in that split second before she’d turned her head, what he’d seen in her eyes hadn’t been panic. Or hopelessness. Definitely not resignation.
What he’d seen was desire. A bright, microsecond burst of want, before she’d shut it off, turned it aside. Turned him aside. Why? And, again, why did he care?
They both slipped and almost lost their balance as they gripped each other’s forearms for support—slimy as it was—and made their way through the melange of sticky bodies.
As soon as she got off the mat and regained her footing, she let go of him. She pushed back her hair, which now hung in loose, mango-covered ropes around her head and squared her partially bared shoulders in an attempt, he supposed, to retrieve some semblance of her dignity.
“I suppose I should thank you, even if I didn’t really need the help.”
He fought a grin, another nonsensical reaction. He’d come here
looking for passion, lust, wild monkey sex. And instead, he’d spent his first couple of hours playing Good Samaritan. And it wasn’t even appreciated. His grin surfaced then and he shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Then her lips quirked and she gave in and laughed.
It was the first real laugh he’d heard from her and the difference was remarkable. For all her pale-skinned, noncurvy, basically unnoticeable-type self, her laugh was full-bodied, rich, and infectious.
She motioned to how they both looked and said, “I take the question back.” She looked at him again, a bit of sparkle in the depths of those eyes now. “And I’m sorry for being such a snot back there. It’s just…I came here hoping to learn more about myself and I’m discovering that’s hard enough without…” She glanced away, then after taking a breath, looked back at him and finished. “Without someone reminding me every other minute just how incapable I am in the first place. I mean, I’m incredibly capable of a lot of things. But this”—she waved blindly behind her—“doesn’t appear to be one of them.”
He started to respond, though he had no idea what he’d have said, but she waved him silent.
“Listen, you’re a nice guy and obviously were just trying to help me out of the jams I seem to have a special skill for landing myself in here. It’s refreshing, especially after tonight, to know there are still nice guys left out there. But I know doing good deeds can’t be why you came here. I’m sure you’re here to have a good time and I’m just as sure you didn’t plan to have that good time with someone like me. So—and don’t take this the wrong way—please stop saving me, even if it’s only from myself. I need to do this my own way, even if it lands me in over my head. Deal?”
Cam simply stared at her. A nice guy. Apparently he wasn’t having any more success achieving his goals here than she was. “Why do you say that?” When she looked confused, he clarified, “That I didn’t come here looking for someone like you.”
She smiled again, this time more ruefully. “Let’s just call it a well-educated guess. You didn’t look exactly thrilled at having to rescue me the first time. Now I’ve managed to ruin your good clothes, to boot. Somehow I’m thinking it’s not because you hoped I’d try to get them off you later.”
He grinned, shaking his head. She really was something. “I don’t know what I thought,” he replied, realizing now just how truthful a statement that was. “But you’re right about one thing. I didn’t come here to be Mr. Nice Guy. In fact, I’ve spent a lifetime being Mr. Nice Guy and you know what? It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
She tilted her head, studying him, then smiled. “Well, then, I’m sorry I brought out the worst in you.”
He laughed at that and she joined him. She really did have a hell of a laugh. Then their laughter faded and they were left standing, in the midst of chaos, staring at one another.
She cleared her throat first. “Well, I suppose I should go clean up. I’m sorry about your clothes, if you want me to have them cleaned I—”
“It’s okay. It was my choice to jump in.”
She lifted a hand, then let it drop. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” She turned to go.
He should have let her walk away, should have turned and gone back down the path toward the pleasure moans he’d heard earlier. But he didn’t. His life was full of “should haves.” Why should this be any different?
Chapter Four
“Wait.”
Allie turned back, her heart picking up speed despite her repeated silent warnings not to. Whatever had happened between them back there, or almost happened, it didn’t change the fact that she was right. He was here looking for a level of action she wasn’t up to providing. He’d even admitted he was here to find his inner bad boy. Probably he’d want someone who had some clue about what to do with it when he found it.
And yet, she was stopping, turning.
“The bungalows,” he said, suddenly looking a bit uncertain himself.
She wondered if he was giving in to his Good Samaritan side again and really, truly wished that, just for once, she wasn’t the type who inspired that instinct in a man. She wanted to inspire other kinds of instincts, the kinds that had to do with predator and prey. Dear God, just once she wanted to be the prey. Thinking about the men she’d met so far, she amended that to a predator who would know what to do with his prey once he’d captured it.
“Bungalows?” she managed, her throat suddenly tight.
“I meant the guest bungalows. They’re that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction from where she was heading.
“Oh. That.” She tried to stifle her disappointment, failing miserably. “This way leads to the beach. They have these waterfall shower things down there and…anyway, I know where I’m going. But thanks.”
“Waterfall shower things?”
She nodded, uncertain where he was heading with this. The longer he stood there, the more she wanted him. And she wanted him badly. Making it all the harder to reconcile herself to the fact that she couldn’t have him. If he would just go away, she could go stand under a waterfall, rinse off…and fantasize for a few really nice minutes, before returning to the fray.
“What exactly are they?”
She went still, watching him come closer. Why wasn’t he leaving? What game was he playing? Maybe he’s just curious, Allie, ever think of that? Considering the night she’d had, it wasn’t surprising she’d become wary.
He was looking at her expectantly, so she went ahead and answered him. “You know how most beaches have showerheads to rinse off the sand when you leave the beach?” He nodded. “Well, they have the same thing here, only instead of showerheads, they have these little alcoves made of natural rock with a waterfall cascading over them. You just sort of tuck yourself inside, step under the water and rinse off…or whatever.” She faltered a bit at that last part. Because after discovering one this afternoon after her windsurfing lesson, she’d done a lot of thinking about that “or whatever” part.
“Sounds…creative.”
Oh, if you only knew.
“As it happens, I got in late and haven’t checked into my bungalow yet,” he was saying. “I really don’t want to hike back to the main lodge and go through all that right now. Would you mind if I joined you and rinsed off here?”
Would you mind if I climaxed, oh, one or a dozen times while we do it? “No,” she said finally, the word coming out somewhat hoarsely. It was the best she could manage given the circumstances.
He just smiled, apparently oblivious to her inner turmoil, and lifted a hand, gesturing her to lead the way.
Great, just great. Now she would have to stand under the rush of water with Mr. Adonis here, and still be forced to fantasize to get a little action. How pathetic was that? She should have worked up the nerve to play Body Puzzle. How much worse could it have been hoping she got the right tab for her slot? Of course, she’d thought the mango race would be a bit tamer, which proved right there she shouldn’t trust her instincts.
Lesson number one, she ruminated silently as he followed close behind her. Nothing is tame at Intimacies.
“Except this shower,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She jumped slightly, not realizing until he spoke just how close he was. “Um, exceptional shower.” She glanced at him and forced her lips to curve upward, aiming for that happy-go-lucky smile that said, “Oh no, you’re not turning me into a mass of quivering need just by breathing on my skin. Nonsense! Guys like you breathe on me all the time. I’m totally unaffected.”
Totally unaffected my ass, she thought, turning her back to him and trying like hell not to give in to the urge to disappear into the darkness before he realized just how totally affected she was.
She heard the soothing sounds of rushing water and knew it was too late. They were here. She brightened with relief as it occurred to her that her problem was actually easily solved. There were, after all, more than one of these alcoves.
She could slip into one and he could find his own. And maybe, if she was really lucky, she could stifle her moans as she made herself climax at least once. Just to take the edge off, of course. She certainly deserved at least that.
But her relief was short-lived as it became clear that they weren’t the only ones seeking out the waterfalls tonight. And from the sounds she could hear over the rushing water, she realized most of the people here were enjoying that “or whatever” part she’d fantasized about.
“Maybe they’ll all be taken,” she murmured under her breath. “Maybe I’ll be lucky just this once. Maybe—”
“Here’s one,” he said, oh-so-helpfully.
She made a face into the dark, then pasted on a smile before facing him. “Great.”
She hadn’t actually used the alcove this morning, so it came as a surprise that, once they moved inside the intimate circle of stone, the sound of the water cascading over the rocks above their heads created the illusion of total seclusion. Where they could do anything. Privately.
After several long moments, she realized she was still standing there, staring at the water. She imagined him moving under the water, watching it pound down on those shoulders, then that angular jaw as he tipped his head back and…She tightened her thighs against the little quiver that scenario produced, then darted a glance at him, wondering why he wasn’t getting wet. After all, watching him was the one guaranteed thrill she would get this evening. Only he wasn’t interested in the water. He was staring at her.
“Everything okay?”
She snapped out of her little reverie and took a small breath. “Sure, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Not giving him a chance to reply, wanting only to just get this over with, she stepped beneath the full force of the water…and gasped as it cascaded over her. Not because it was cold, it was actually about the same temperature as the air. Balmy, in fact. She gasped because it felt good. Wonderfully, amazingly, good.
I Love Bad Boys Page 20