Key West

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Key West Page 2

by Demi Alex


  “Where are we going?” I asked, rushing to keep up with him.

  “For drinks. In the hot tub to cool off.”

  I looked over my shoulder at the two bottles sitting on the bench and smiled. I’d made the right choice. My adventure had just begun.

  Chapter Three

  I couldn’t believe that a man like West was interested in me, Addison London, a woman who, until that moment, was so proper and prudish, so sheltered and sexually inexperienced, that only one other man had ever rounded the bases—and that only happened in the safety of the bedroom while under a cloak of darkness and covers. But if the bulge in West’s pants were any indication, he was definitely into me, and he would fit the bill for my wild weekend of hedonistic exploration.

  I just couldn’t believe I’d let some sexy stranger fondle me on a park bench.

  It felt scandalous…but oh, so right.

  The only thing that bothered me was that he felt too right, too perfect for me. And to add to it, the man was self-assured enough to take control of the situation, allowing me not to think too much about it.

  In his everyday existence, he must have held down a powerful and authoritative job. For a split second, I wondered who he was, what he did for a living. But, no. I didn’t want to know his real name, because if I did, I’d be tempted to look him up in the future.

  Guilt crept through the night and embraced me.

  I had responsibilities and expectations to meet, and I was disregarding them for a weekend of wicked pleasures. Not only was it narcissistic, but it was unfair to West. There was no possibility for a real relationship with him, and I wasn’t sure if I could even tell him.

  I wanted West for now.

  “What’s your name?” He stepped onto the street and made a quick right toward some gift shop with tourist knick-knacks bursting from its seams.

  My name?

  Shit. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But, I wasn’t a good liar either. If I gave him my real name, he could find me in the future, and this weekend needed to remain in the present. Nothing would follow me into my real life. My parents would never hear of it. My boss would never get wind of it and my wanton ways would never follow me into the boardroom. No one would ever know what I did, where I did it, or with whom.

  “Aly?” West offered.

  Puzzled, I pulled back a few inches and tilted my head to the side.

  “We’re on Tift’s Aly,” he said, tugging my hand so that I could keep up. “Don’t stall our night, sweetheart. You’re hot, wet, and willing.”

  “Aly sounds right,” I rasped, amazed with his brazen assumption.

  “Well, Aly, consider me your private guide in this sultry city of the night.” His voice was so freaking confident. But it wasn’t offensive. It was hot and made me want to slam him up against the brick wall and jump him.

  “Do you do this often?”

  “No, sweetheart.” He laughed, shaking his head so that his tousled hair moved across his forehead in a way that had me reaching to touch it. “But, I’ll do anything needed in order to spend time with you.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, stopping to catch my breath at the corner. I sounded so stupid, so ignorant. “That’s my hotel,” I mumbled, indicating the entrance less than ten feet away, but having no idea of what to expect from him. Did I ask him up? Or should he wait for me to change?

  With a sure, long finger, he touched the side of my face. “You are so beautiful when you blush. You’re so beautiful—period.”

  I was a woman that was comfortable in her skin. At least, that was what I reminded myself. The most amazing man stood beside me and didn’t bother to hide his interest. He was my opportunity.

  “West,” I said, swallowing my hesitation. “I’m here for the long weekend alone. I don’t know a soul in Florida, I’ve never been diving, I’ve never had conch , and I’ve never been by myself for more than a few hours. I plan on doing all those things this weekend.”

  He didn’t respond, but he closed his hand over mine and rubbed the inside of my wrist with his thumb. The twinkle in his eyes gave me the courage to ask a final question.

  “Are you willing to spend my weekend alone with me?” Damn, that sounded weird. If it were my weekend alone, why would I invite him to be with me?

  “I’d love to,” he replied, raising my hand and placing his parted lips against the moist skin. Softly, ever so slowly, his tongue traveled the rises and valleys of my knuckles. “I’ll spend anything you want with you.”

  Tiny critters choose that moment to throw a party in my stomach, but one little sucker ran up to brain and tapped. Set the rules. Do it fast.

  Rules. Shit. Yeah.

  “West?”

  “Yes,” he drawled.

  “I want this to be West and Aly for the weekend. That’s it. Adventure. Excitement. Fun. And, possibilities of opportunities that may arise without commitment.” I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers and bit my lip. “It can’t be anything more or for any longer.”

  Lines creased his forehead and his eyes narrowed. I could practically see his mind working, but I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “You want anonymity, adventure, and open possibilities. And you don’t want anything more than now.” He was still holding my hand and looking directly into my eyes as people pushed by us. “You do realize that you’re asking me for every man’s fantasy, right?”

  “Every man’s fantasy?” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I had to stop repeating everything he said in the most infantile manner.

  “A beautiful woman, for a whole weekend, with no expectations or obligations is a fantasy, sweetheart.” He placed my hand against his pounding chest, caressed the side of my face, and tangled his fingers in my hair. “The weekend begins now, right?”

  I sighed in relief. He had no idea what his question had just done for me, but I was so grateful. I may have wanted a wild and reckless weekend, but I needed to prepare. Needed to put on fresh panties and a matching bra. I needed to be sexy. Plus, the night clung to my skin and made me question my sanity.

  “Tomorrow?” I asked.

  “I’m busy in the morning, but we can meet for lunch or drinks if you’d like. Your wish is my command.”

  “Both,” I replied, leaning toward him.

  I swept my lips over his mouth, parted them, and tilted my head, planning on a soft, casual kiss. His lips were supposed to be closed so that my tongue could urge them to part, but they weren’t. My tongue slipped between his lips, traced the smooth lines of his perfect teeth, and was lost in his magnificent taste.

  Or perhaps he had taken control of the kiss and I was able to let myself go. The casual kiss faded into the recesses of my mind and my body reacted.

  “Wait for me…on our bench…at sunset,” he said between nibbles.

  “What?” I whispered, blinking to bring my eyes into focus.

  “I can’t keep kissing you tonight if our weekend begins tomorrow.” He moved my hand from his chest and lowered it on the full, hard, and hot center of his jeans. “It’s too difficult, and I’ll die trying to honor your wish.”

  My heartbeat skipped, and the blood in my veins heated. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to calm the sensation pulsing between my legs.

  “What if I changed my mind?”

  “Too late,” he said, dropping my hand.

  Chapter Four

  Damn! West instructed me to get a good night’s rest, then left me standing on the corner in front of my hotel like some kid.

  “But I don’t want to rest,” I had said in the sultriest voice I could manage, and he’d simply smiled like I’d just asked him to play a game of baseball.

  In a desperate attempt to save my pride, I had changed the game plan and announced that I wanted to go out and get to know the clubs on Duval as soon as possible.

  “It’s wild out there. Wait till morning.”

  Strike two. Not only had he refused to stay, he refused to get the weekend star
ted immediately—but had the gall to tell me what I should do and when.”

  “Aly, I have to go. There is something I must do. Something I know you’ll appreciate,” he’d said, grinning wickedly the whole time. “I’ll see you later.”

  Whatever. I didn’t need a father figure to take care of me and set more limits on me during the weekend that I was breaking free. I needed excitement. I needed spontaneity. After all, it was still early and the streets were buzzing with life. I wasn’t going back to my room.

  Besides, I couldn’t go out in damp panties and wrinkled shorts.

  Almost a whole hour later, fully outfitted in a new string bikini and a strappy shirt and short set from the tourist shop where West had abandoned me, I walked by a packed bar with patrons taking a stab at their favorite songs on the karaoke stage.

  “Hey, pretty lady! I’ve got a stool with your name on it,” a man’s voice sounded.

  Instinctively, I glanced over the crowd and searched for the source of the invitation.

  “Come on, babe,” he added, perching on the footrest of his own stool and waving me over. “The night is young, the booze is good, and the music is—okay.” He laughed as a cross-dresser started his rendition of It’s Raining Men. “What’s your pleasure?”

  He was speaking to me! Key West was oozing with gorgeous men, and I was the slut from the North East.

  I took his outstretched hand and let him pull me thru the group of college-age men, hooting at the entertainment. Tripping over the boys, I slammed against his muscled chest, losing a flip-flop and a strap to my shirt.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to cover my neon pink bikini top.

  He jumped down, grasped my hips, and lifted me onto my seat.

  “You’re adorable,” he drawled, the amusement in his voice very audible. “Hold on while I retrieve your sandal.”

  “To what?” I breathed.

  “To this,” he replied, placing his beer in my hand as he bent and scooped up my flaying flip-flop.

  He had an awesome ass, tight and athletic. Wearing a muscle t-shirt, he was eye candy to satisfy any appetite. His trimmed waist expanded to a broad back with phenomenal shoulders at the top. His hair, dark and silky, hung at his collarbone and moved in a captivating style.

  He returned, cradled my foot against his groin and slipped the sandal between my toes. “Better?” His dark gaze sent heated spears to my core as his tan fingers caressed my leg and sparked upwards.

  “Yes, thank you. You’re my hero on Duval.” I lowered my foot and fought with the dangling material of my tank.

  “Leave it,” he said, taking my hand. “The view is pretty nice from over here.”

  Sure. I bet it was real nice.

  I was holding onto a tiny bit of decency, attempting to conceal the straining nipple pushing against the neon pink suit.

  “How do you do this every night?” I asked, raising my voice above the raucous.

  “I don’t,” he said, not bothering to speak loud. Instead, he fitted himself between my legs, leaned against my boobs, and spoke softly against my ear. “I only brave the Conch Republic for special occasions. I drove down from Miami an hour ago and thought I’d grab a beer before I meet up with friends.”

  Figured. I was getting nowhere tonight.

  Miami might have been scorching with sex appeal, but he wasn’t available. He had plans. Disappointment fizzled in my head, and I stared at the stage, which was now empty like me. I finally decided to get laid, and I had no one but B.O.B available for the job. After seeing Miami, the other guys didn’t stand up to the challenge. They weren’t worth it.

  “You’re so much more than I thought you’d be,” he said, blowing my hair back and kissing my throat. “Gorgeous, sexy, delicious, and sweet.”

  Surprised, I gazed up into daring eyes, which refused to look away or blink.

  “Do I know you?”

  “Not yet,” he said, biting his lower lip, then licking it. “But you will,” he added, wrapping his arm about me and pulling me to him. “My name is—”

  “No. Stop.” I pushed at his chest and placed a finger on his lips to prevent him from speaking. “Your name is Miami, and I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  Miami laughed as well. It was a peculiar, yet warm, friendly chuckle that made my insides heat up again.

  “Okay. My name’s Miami and I’m at your service, ma’am.” Ignoring my arms, he fitted his hands beneath my butt and scooted me to the edge of the stool. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I nodded, wrapping my legs around his and hooking my ankles for balance. He’d practically lifted me into his arms, crushing me against his chest and engulfing me in his scent. He wasn’t the kind of man who waited to be sure he wouldn’t be rejected. He moved in and claimed his possession.

  “I think I’ll need my arms to raise the glass to my lips,” I suggested.

  “Maybe, but it hasn’t arrived yet.”

  He didn’t move, but his hands tightened their hold. “I like you in my arms. I’m taking you with me tonight.”

  Who was this guy? And why did my insides tingle when I looked into his brown eyes? I was a freaking slut. Really, I was. I’d just made a date for the weekend with West, and now I was flirting and making arrangements with Miami.

  Did I have what it took to live the adventures I dreamed about? Or would I always be confined behind that suburban white fence?

  “Hey,” he said, running the back of his fingers down the side of my face. “Don’t think so hard. You came south for some fun. Right?”

  “I guess you can put it like that,” I answered, not bothering to explain that I’d run from the city—and a man. Mostly, I’d run from a part of me that had been suffocating me into submission for years.

  “Then come on. Let’s party.” He picked up what looked like a Piña Colada and drank. Placing his lips to my mouth, his tongue urged me to open and he drizzled the sweetness into my mouth. “I didn’t think you’d need your hands.”

  Damn, he was smooth. Ironically, I didn’t mind his assumptions; I liked them. I wanted them.

  He was different from other guys. He was somehow…more real. It was weird, but when I looked into his eyes, I felt like I was home. I wasn’t shy or embarrassed with him. It was familiar and natural to entwine my fingers into his gorgeous head of dark brown, almost black, hair. The shadow on his jaw made him rugged, while retaining the perfect magazine-model image. The olive-tone of his skin had me guessing he was of Mediterranean or Latin decent. Most likely Latin since he was from Miami.

  “What are you thinking about, baby cakes?” He tucked me against him, pressing my moist center against his groin, and planting a warm kiss on the side of my face. “Me or some other lucky guy?”

  My cheeks burned. His hand lingered on my waist. I took a deep breath and licked my lips. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered to my head, and when he smiled and gave me a second peck on my temple, everything was okay.

  “You are so adorable when you second guess yourself.” He placed the third kiss against the side of my head. “It’s time to step it up a notch. We’re blowing out of here and meeting a boat by the pier.”

  The tropical heat only added to the fire in my belly, which could have melted snow on the highest mountain. Miami was so sexy…and, he was also so confident…and so easy to be with.

  Damn, I really was making some dangerous decisions. I was leaving with a stranger, not really knowing where I was going, and telling no one about it. It was irresponsible and real risky. I knew it, but at the same time, I couldn’t refuse the erotic coaxing. Miami was what I needed. He was what I wanted, at least for tonight.

  Forcing my lips to smile, I nodded.

  “Good,” he said, stepping back and pointing to a colorful rickshaw. “We’re riding that to the pier. We can order a drink to go, if you’d like.”

  “I don’t want to drink anymore if we’re going out on a boat,” I blurted, feeling a little like a kid again. “I think I need all the coordination I
could get before I find my sea legs.” Plus, I needed to keep my wits about me. I was going out on a boat, in the middle of the night, with a sexy and dark stranger.

  Hell, I was out of my mind. How dangerous was that? Too stupid to live.

  But when I looked up into his eyes, I was lost—hypnotized.

  “I told you not to worry. You’re with me and I would never make you do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He slowly shook his head. “Trust me. Tonight will be the just what the doctor ordered for my dazzling lady.”

  “You’re sure your friends won’t mind?”

  “No way.” He pushed through the crowd toward the buggy. “They’ll be thrilled.”

  “Okay,” I replied, wondering how I could want and need Miami and still desire my weekend with West. Only a few weeks earlier, I couldn’t imagine ever doing anything to risk my safe and orderly life—or my relationships, my career, my reputation—my morality. Now, I wanted nothing more than to spend the entire weekend acting upon every naughty, decadent and debauched fantasy I’d ever had.

  Plus, I wanted to sample both men. Simple as that. The images and voices of two guys, which were physical opposites, but who both set fires inside me, swirled inside my head, making me dizzy. What I couldn’t understand or explain was the different type of flames they ignited.

  “Don’t think, or you might change your mind,” Miami said, helping me up into the buggy’s seat and snuggling beside me.

  He was right. I wasn’t going to think about it any longer.

  As the lanky guy at the front of the rickshaw peddled around the block, the crowds thinned and the music changed. No more steel drums, no electric guitars. Just crickets singing from their branches and trumpeting the expectancy of an exciting adventure.

  “I hope I won’t disappoint you.” I rested against Miami, drawing courage from the darkness.

 

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