No Pants Required

by Kim Karr

  CAM

  CLUBS HAVE NEVER REALLY BEEN my thing.

  For many reasons. First and foremost, they were my brother’s thing.

  So when I walk into the Underground, clean shaven and somewhat dressed up in my black jeans and white button-down, I thank fuck it’s not karaoke night.

  A DJ is spinning tunes, or whatever it is they do. Dance music is blasting through the large open space. Like everything in Laguna, this place has a cool, relaxed vibe. I rather dig the California lifestyle. It’s a “make love, not war” type of place. Drink, talk, and fuck is the New York way to say it, though. Same thing, just not as politically correct, I suppose.

  The large space is lit in lines of blue and green. There’s a shit-ton of people in here. Most of them dancing. Some of them talking at high-top tables. Others flirting at the bar. No one is going home alone, that’s for sure.

  I push my way through the pulsating throng of people and toward the bar. “Corona with a lime,” I mouth to the bartender and take a seat. He nods and melts away into the cries of the other thirsty customers. My eyes adjust to the darkness as I look around. Bright lights from the neon signs on the wall illuminate the faces in the crowd, but I don’t see her anywhere. There is a floor above us where I can see feet moving and a floor directly below us where I can see the tops of people’s bopping heads. Three dance floors is a lot of moving bodies.

  Soon, the bartender returns with my beer. Once I’ve paid him, I push off the stool and go in search of Makayla.

  Sipping my beer, I take my time moving through the bar. Spotting no one from our patrol, I head down the stairs. No one I recognize down here, either. I start to wonder if they changed their plans.

  That would fucking suck.

  As soon as I hit the top floor, a crown of blond hair in the center of the dance floor attracts my attention. Plans were not changed. It’s Maggie dancing like a disco queen. Dressed in orange leather shorts and a white frilly see-through top, she stands a head above everyone. Derek is bumping and grinding behind her and I have to look away. You see, Maggie is like a sister to me, and watching her with a guy like that makes me cringe. Here’s the thing: I like Derek; I just don’t trust him.

  The whole surfer-vibe thing attracts a lot of chicks, and every time I see him, he’s wallowing in the attention. Not saying that’s not okay, because according to Maggie, they haven’t put a label on their relationship. Hey, if she’s cool with it, so am I.

  As my gaze darts away from the pair, it lands right on Makayla, who is doing a spin on the floor with Kurt, one of the guys from the patrol.

  Holy fuck.

  Holy fuck.

  Holy fuck.

  Could she get any hotter?

  In a tight red dress, she’s moving to the beat. All I can do is stare. I consider rubbing the drool off my chin when I see that her outfit is backless. Actually, there is not much to her dress at all. Spaghetti straps hold the fabric up, and those same straps jet all the way down to the curve of her spine. No way is she wearing a bra. Can’t say why, but I love that about her. It’s such a turn-on.

  Equally as sexy is her long hair. It’s down, and the waves move along with her. Once she stops spinning, she lifts her hair off her neck as if overheated and she needs to cool herself.

  I’d love to help her with that. Thoughts of slipping those straps down and licking the sweat from her shoulders come to mind. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s got me all twisted up in a way I can’t explain. And then it occurs to me that I have no idea what I’m doing here.

  Stay or go.

  Stay or go.

  What the hell should I do?

  “Never back down” has always been my motto, so why change it now?

  Looking at her again, she’s stopped spinning, but I haven’t. Still struck stupid from the sight of her, it takes me a moment to compose myself. Once I do, I down the rest of my beer, place the empty on a table nearby, and step foot onto the dance floor.

  Kurt now has his hands on her hips, and at least it’s loud in here so no one can hear my growl.

  As if sensing my presence, her head darts in my direction.

  Although her face remains stoic, her body responds instantly to seeing me. Her hardening nipples that start sprouting through her tight dress aren’t the only sign, either. The goose bumps on her arms also tell me what I already know—that she feels that same pull of attraction I do whenever we’re together. There’s no sense in either of us trying to deny it. It’s there. Front and center. Sparks and all. Who would have ever thought I’d actually think cosmic reaction is reality?

  “Hey,” I say to Makayla.

  Her eyes wide, she snakes her tongue out to slide along her lips. “Cam.” Her voice is a squeak.

  For the sake of niceties, I turn to Kurt. “Hey man, mind if I cut in?”

  I can honestly say I’ve never said those words before.

  Kurt responds with a chipper, “No, not at all, but this is the last place I expected to see you. You never come out with us on dance club nights.”

  Making myself part of their twosome, I try not to think of it as a threesome. He needs to get lost, and soon. “Yeah, I know. I usually only go out when there’s a pool table involved, but I couldn’t help myself tonight.”

  I let my gaze wander to Makayla and I drink in the sight of her so close, all the way from the top of her head to the tip of her high-heeled sandals.

  Fucking hot.

  Perhaps noticing the steaming heat between us, Kurt says nothing more and turns to dance with someone else from the patrol. It’s like he’d be happy with whomever. Good for him.

  Now it’s just Makayla and me on the dance floor. She keeps moving. I remain still. Staring. Admiring. Fucking yearning. Breathing hard. Heart pounding. Cock raring to go. Down boy. Down. I have some groveling to do first. Not sure it’s even going to work.

  “So,” I yell over the music, “I forgot to ask you earlier, but did you take the job?”

  She shakes her head. “It wasn’t right for me. You were right. He wasn’t going to be around. He only wanted a manager.”

  Still standing there, unmoving, I nod. “You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

  Who knows, maybe I will too.

  Continuing to move, she leans closer. “Are you going to dance, or what?”

  “I don’t dance,” I tell her, my eyes on those small nubs protruding from her dress. God, I want to suck on them so badly.

  With a shrug, she says, “Suit yourself,” and then turns around to dance with whoever is standing close by, just like Kurt did.

  Wait one minute!

  The song changes and even more people start wiggling, bouncing, moving to the beat.

  She doesn’t turn around, either.

  She wins.

  She fucking wins.

  Unable to stop myself from making a move, I put my hands on her hips and push myself up against her back. She melts into my touch and allows me to shift our bodies so she is no longer part of any other group.

  I’m not sure you can call what we are doing dancing. To me it feels more like fucking with our clothes on.

  Pushing her hair to the side, I kiss her shoulder.

  She twists, and with a gasp whispers, “I thought you didn’t know how to dance?”

  Licking up her neck, I find her ear. “I said I don’t dance; it doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

  “Oh.” The small noise she makes in response causes heat to flare throughout my body.

  Turning her to face me, in one step, I draw her close. Two steps, my hands go to her waist, and they feel like they were made to match her curves. Three steps, and I slide my thigh between hers.

  Makayla anchors herself with her hands on my shoulders and then looks up at me with those hazel eyes that again are unshuttered, but this time instead of running, I find myself getting lost in them.

  The bass thumps on and on and we move together. When my hands slide down to her hips, hers rise and circle my neck.


  It’s been a long time since I gazed into someone’s eyes and let her see me, and the enormity of this, of me opening myself for her to see, feels right. Feels like it’s time to take a step out of the fiery pit of hell I’ve been in.

  Dancing to a song I don’t even know, I let the music’s sensual beat guide me.

  She feels so good in my arms.

  I slide my hands up her bare back to tangle in her hair.

  She tips her head, baring her throat to me, and the only thing I can do is bend down to slide my lips along her soft skin. Makayla shivers under my touch and I draw her even closer.

  Bodies all around us are pressing together too, but when my cock presses hard against her belly, all of this becomes too much. Finding her neck, I kiss up it and whisper in her ear, “What do you say we go back to my place and dance?”

  Pulling back, she stares at me for the longest time, and then smirks. “What? Horizontally, with no clothes on?”

  With a wink, I say, “That hadn’t crossed my mind, but if you insist.”

  “Liar.” She smiles.

  Grazing my hand across her ass, I kiss her neck again. “Well, I might have been lying a little, but seriously, I do really want to talk to you.”

  She runs her hands down my sides suggestively. “Aren’t you of the school of thought that believes talking is overrated?”

  “I subscribe to my own philosophy. There’s a time to talk . . . and a time to fuck.”

  Stepping back, she keels over in laughter.

  “What is so funny?” I ask.

  Sucking in a breath to control herself, she says, “Are you trying to quote Kevin Bacon from Footloose? Because if you are, he says, ‘There’s a time to laugh . . . and a time to weep, a time to mourn . . . and there is a time to dance.’”

  Laughing now too, I hook my arm around her. “That’s right, ‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner.’”

  She slugs me with her arm. “Wrong movie. That’s Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.”

  “Don’t dance, don’t watch dance movies, remember?”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “You’re right,” I tell her and mean it.

  Her smile doesn’t fade.

  With that, I tug her off the dance floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Just as we reach the stairs, we pass Maggie, who stops me in my tracks. It’s nearly impossible to hear anything above the music, so she whispers in my ear, “Makayla isn’t your typical beach bunny, so please be careful with her.”

  I nod in understanding and give Maggie a quick peck on the cheek and tell her I’m taking Makayla home.

  On the way to my Jeep, I find a spot that overlooks the cliff and tug Makayla over there. I take a seat on the railing. Makayla remains standing and looks at me, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “You look great,” I tell her.

  Her hair blows in the wind. “Thanks, but don’t think I wore this dress for you.”

  I smirk at her. “Right. I guess not, since I told you I wasn’t coming, and all.”

  She stares at me. “I wore it for me.”

  “Yeah, well, I still think you look great.”

  Makayla shifts her eyes my way but says nothing more.

  At first I find myself looking away, but then I turn my head to meet her gaze. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For the way I acted last week. I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

  Our eyes lock. “I accept your apology, and to be honest, it did hurt my feelings that you didn’t come over to talk to me at all this week.”

  I give her a hesitant shrug. “I could lie and say I was busy, but the truth is my mind is in a really bad place right now and I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “I get it, Cam, but I thought we were just having fun.”

  Uncertain why, I put myself out there. “We were. I mean we are. I mean I want to. It’s just, I haven’t felt like that with someone in so long, it freaked me out.” I pause, flustered with myself.

  “Go on,” she prompts.

  “After you left I convinced myself we’d run into each other outside, and when we didn’t, I started to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

  She smirks at me. So she was.

  This time I take control and raise a brow. “Look, I know I screwed up, but the truth is that over this past week I realized that I have more fun with you than I’ve had with anyone in a very long time.”

  That flirty look she gives me tells me she believes me.

  Done with the whole feelings thing, I reach for her hand and pull her to me. With my hands threading through her hair, I take her mouth and seal my lips to hers.

  Her hands on my ass surprise me.

  Breaking the kiss, I pull away. “‘Fact is, the law says you cannot touch.’”

  “Oh, my God, you do watch dancing movies. You watched Magic Mike.”

  I slap her ass. “Twice. Get your dollar bills ready, baby—you’re going to need them.”

  MAKAYLA

  DRIVING DOWN PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY, I look out in the darkness and smile. The moon and the stars and planets might be lighting up the sky, but right now my universe is aglow with Camden Waters.

  Never in my twenty-four years have I left a club with a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend; then again, I’d never had a one-night stand, either. It just wasn’t in my DNA. Note the wasn’t, because it is now.

  I’m not exactly drunk, but I am tipsy, and Cam is driving me home. That means I can cross number five off the list, I think with a giggle.

  5. Get drunk and let someone else worry how you’re going to get home ✓

  “What’s so funny?” Cam asks.

  Reaching into my purse, I take my phone from it and pull up the list Maggie sent me. “Pull over—I want to show you something.”

  He raises one sexy brow. “If you want to show me your gorgeous tits, you can just flash me right now. I promise I’ll drive faster so I can suck on them for a good long time as soon as I get you home.”

  Such a dirty boy.

  Just to see his reaction, I consider flashing him, but in this dress it will be nearly impossible. That’s when a better idea strikes. I’ll give him dirty. “You know what? Never mind; just keep driving.”

  “No way. Now you have to tell me.”

  I shake my head. “Not happening.”

  “Give me your phone.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, hand it over,” he says.

  Closing the list, I do as he asks. Why not let him ponder for a bit. He’ll never find it in the email anyway. And it’s fun to tease him.

  When Cam comes to a light, he glances down at my phone and presses a few buttons. “Holy shit.” He whistles. “I just struck gold.”

  Oh, my God!

  No.

  No.

  No.

  “Give me that!” I shriek, having forgotten all about my little photo shoot this morning.

  Smirking to himself, he presses some more buttons and hits send before I can grab my phone from his hands.

  “What did you do?” I ask, horrified. “Please tell me you didn’t post my picture on your Facebook wall or tweet it or something equally as mortifying.”

  The light turns green and he presses on the gas. “First of all, I added you to my contacts and needed a pic to put beside it. Second, I’d never share you with anyone. Third, I don’t have any social media accounts anymore. They were a big pain in the ass. And finally,” he grins, “have I told you lately that you are so fucking hot?”

  Inside, I dance a little; outside, I frown. “Give me your phone,” I tell him.

  “No way.” He smirks.

  “Give it to me so I can delete that picture.”

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “Because I’m naked.”

  “Exactly! When did you take it, anyway? Wait, let me guess: when you were spying on me this morning and got all hot and bothered.”

  My features
pull together, somewhat relieved, but not really. “No, I did not. As a matter of fact, I took it of myself this morning before I spied on you. I mean before I used my camera to figure out what book you were reading.”

  “Right,” he says.

  “It’s true. And if you must know, I was going to show you a list of things I want to accomplish, and since we’re having fun together, I thought you might help me.”

  “I’d love to help you.” There’s suggestiveness in his tone, and he’s not too far off in using it. “What is this list?” he asks. “Anything to do with your playlist?”

  Surprised he figured it out, I can only answer him truthfully. “Yes, it’s a way for me to prove to myself that I’m not the uptight bitch Sebastian called me.”

  In a flash, he opens the window. “Fuck you, Sebastian, Makayla is not an uptight bitch. She’s downright gorgeous is what she is!” he yells, throwing the middle finger.

  Laughing, I can’t help but feel a tug at my heart that he gets me. Someone gets me. He gets me.

  “What do I have to do?” he asks once the laughter fades.

  Placing my hand on top of his thigh, I give it a little squeeze and in a voice somewhere between playful and seductive, I say, “All you have to do is keep driving.”

  With a full-blown blinding smile that makes my heart skip a beat and my lips tingle, he cocks his head and glances over at me. “Drive. That’s all?”

  “Yep. Just drive.” Smiling, I lean over the center console and add, “And don’t stop.”

  Laughing huskily, he glances down at my hand on his lap and both eyebrows shoot up.

  Super excited by his reaction, I begin to slide my palm up his leg to the button on his jeans, slipping my fingertips inside his waistband.

  His breathing picks up and he groans when he feels my fingers wiggle around. “Makayla, what are you doing?”

  Leaning toward him again, I whisper in his ear, “You might want to keep your eyes on the road, or better yet, pull over as soon as you can.”

  His gaze falls to his lap just as I successfully unbutton his jeans and begin pulling down his zipper. “Makayla, really, what are you doing?”

  Tickled that I am able to shock him, I glance up from under my lashes. “Cam, you’re a smart guy. I think you know what I’m doing.”