Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “I didn’t mean to offend.”

  “Why would I be offended?” He pulled her close, did a fancy step and let her go. “Because you assumed this white boy couldn’t get down to island music?”

  “It’s not that.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose, grinning. “Yes, it is.”

  “I apologize.”

  He held her to him, the muscles in his stomach pressing against her skin.

  She floated within the warmth of his eyes, her body pulsating as he stroked her ass.

  He watched her as if cautious she might reject his advances. “I love how you dance.” His chest heaved against hers, teasing her nipples. “You don’t know how hard it is for me to contain myself seeing you in that dress.”

  “Are you containing yourself?” Her nipples throbbed, begging for his tongue. “I’m not so sure.”

  “I’m fighting to behave.” His eyes turned to half-slits. “If we weren’t in a crowd of people, you’d be afraid of what I want to do to you.” He gripped her waist and shimmied, her pelvis burning for his dick. “I don’t mean to be forward.” He swung her around, holding her back to his chest. “But, I like you, Kayla. I felt something the minute we met.”

  “Fear because I almost killed you?”

  He snickered, licking her earlobe. “Because I wanted you. I’ve wanted you ever since Kirby showed me your picture.”

  A tingle started at her neck and worked its way through her belly button, her loins exploding the more he touched her.

  “I had to have you.” He bit her ear. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “How can I believe that?” She pushed her ass against his middle and his dick hardened at the slightest touch.

  “You feel that?” A bead of sweat dripped from his face onto her shoulder.

  “Yes.” She balled a fist to keep from ripping off her dress.

  “Then don’t ask me again if I mean it when I say I’m attracted to you.” He turned her to where she faced him and kissed her.

  The world went black with only the beat of the music to remind Kayla she were still on earth. She moaned as he maneuvered his salty tongue into her mouth, his breath smelling of tropical fruit and jerk seasoning.

  “Mm.” She pulled away, but he kept her in place, and soon his tongue took a backseat to hers.

  He whimpered, smacking in between breaths. “You’re a good kisser.”

  She snickered with her lips against his. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “What else are you good at?” He took her mouth again, bumping her forehead. “Huh?”

  “I’m good at a lot of things.”

  “Woo!” A woman danced by, pointing at the couple.

  “You are, huh?” Tate kept that dazed expression. “I’d love to know what else you’re good at.”

  Kayla stroked his cheek. “I kinda want to show you.”

  He slipped his finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Kinda?” His ripe mouth stole her lips again; her stomach flipping as if someone tossed her from a plane.

  She released his puckered lips. “We can’t, Tate. I feel so guilty.”

  He took her hands in his sweaty palms. “You don’t owe Kirby anything.”

  “You don’t know how much this hurts.” She snatched her hands away. “How many years I’ve lost. My brother is dead and all you can think about is getting into my pants?”

  “Wait, a minute.” He frowned, lifting his finger. “Don’t make this a one-sided thing. You’re attracted too.”

  “I can’t lose sight of why I’m here by getting involved with you.” The muscles in her face constricted. “I won’t.”

  “Maybe what’s happening between us doesn’t make sense.” He exhaled, eyes shifting left and right. “But do you care when I’m this close to you?”

  “I can’t do this, Tate.”

  He snatched her waist. “Kayla?”

  “I can’t.”

  She turned and ran through the crowd, fumbling and bumping into people.

  CHAPTER 7

  K ayla ended up at a food truck that sold Escoviche, (fish marinated in vinegar) and other spices. She got in line, not sure the reason since the last thing on her mind was food. Just as she got to the window, someone tapped her shoulder.

  A tall, slender woman with curves and long, stringy blonde hair spread her thin lips into a smile. “Hello,” she said with an in-your-face Australian accent. “You’re Kayla Atkins, right?”

  “Yes.” Kayla stood aside, allowing the man behind her to go to the window. “May I help you?”

  “I’m Jewel Ryder.” She held her hand out, green eyes flickering. “I knew your brother.”

  “Oh.” Kayla shook Jewel’s hand.

  “I’d heard you were in town.” She pulled at her cutoff shorts. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give my condolences. It’s a shame what happened. Kirby was a great guy.”

  “How did you know Kirby?”

  Jewel stuck her neck out, squinting. “I hung with friends of your brother’s.”

  “Can you give me their names? I’d like to speak to them.”

  “About the murder?” Jewel poked out her lips. “I’m sure they don’t know anything or they’d be talking to the police.”

  Kayla touched Jewel’s arm. “Did you hear something about my brother being with guys?”

  “No.” Jewel batted her eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

  Before Kayla resumed the conversation, a big-boned, brown-skinned woman with cornrows and knock-knees, trotted toward her and Jewel. “Are you Kayla Atkins?” she asked in a fluid Jamaican accent, gesturing to Kayla with her drink.

  Kayla looked back and forth at the women. “I must be the most famous tourist in town.”

  “Can I speak to you for a moment?” the woman asked.

  “I have to go, anyway.” Jewel patted Kayla’s arm. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Wait,” Kayla urged.

  “If I find out anything about Kirby, I’ll go to the police.” Jewel waved back as she disappeared in the crowd.

  “I have something to tell you,” the other woman said.

  “Like what?” Kayla’s pitch increased. “What in the world is going on?”

  “I’m Mia.” Mia beckoned Kayla to bend over, and she whispered in her ear, “I might know something about Kirby’s murder. I can’t tell you with people around.” She glanced at the boogying crowd. “Please meet me tomorrow morning at ten at the Eastborn Motel room fifteen.”

  “Eastborn?” Kayla whispered. “Do you know who killed my brother?”

  “Meet me tomorrow and don’t tell anyone.”

  Kayla swallowed. “This has something to do with the Rastafarians doesn’t it?”

  Mia’s brows furrowed. “See you tomorrow unless you don’t want the tip.”

  “HERE YOU ARE, MA’AM.” The driver parked the musty cab in front of Tate’s one-story, brick house later that night.

  “Thank you.” Kayla pulled ten dollars from her purse and handed it to the smoking Jamaican whose dreads hid his face.

  “Nice doing business with you, pretty lady.”

  She got out the cab.

  The red, white and yellow beanie cap rocked on the driver’s head. “You want me to wait until he answers the door?”

  “No.” Kayla’s stomach swirled from apprehension as she stepped onto the cracked sidewalk. “I’m fine.”

  He propped his wrist on the steering wheel. “Have a nice night now.”

  “You too.” She flashed a nervous smile and scampered to Tate’s front door as the cab left. “What am I doing here?” She took her place beside the bushy plant at Tate’s door and no matter how many times she asked herself why she’d come, she found no answer.

  At least not an answer that made sense.

  She lifted her hand to ring the doorbell when the slow, sensual sound of a saxophone flowed from the back of the house.

  She entered the black, metal gate, her sandals clacking on the sidewa
lk as she made it to Tate’s backyard patio.

  There, in the rich Caribbean moonlight, he sat on the arm of the deep-gray armchair, French-kissing the mouthpiece of the sax as a sultry, deep melody caressed Kayla’s ears and wrapped its arms around her body.

  The way his head moved as he strangled the instrument reminded Kayla of how he’d hold her hips, and would his lips do her body the same justice?

  She cleared her throat but either he didn’t hear her or ignored her because he kept his mouth on that saxophone as if it were a woman’s breast.

  Kayla sucked her lip as she swept her hand underneath the flimsy fabric of her dress and rubbed her clit through her white, linen panties.

  Tate squeezed the saxophone; his movements aggressive yet steady as the instrument let out a high-pitch squeal resembling the shriek of a woman at the peak of orgasm.

  Kayla slipped her fingers inside her panties, tickling the folds of her moist labia. “Oh.”

  The saxophone stopped and Kayla opened her eyes to find Tate staring at her with a look of seduction and surprise.

  She froze with her fingers in her pussy, still sneaking strokes despite the awkward moment.

  Tate set the saxophone beside the blue and white ceramic vase and stood, allowing her to bask in how his outfit showed off his masterful frame.

  When they danced at the festival, she couldn’t keep her mind off how his muscles clenched beneath her fingertips and how her pussy sang when he fondled her ass.

  He rushed toward her, grabbing her hand without a word.

  Oh god.

  He pulled her to the black, wicker table, shoved chairs aside and set her on top of it. His gaze still on Kayla, he maneuvered his hands underneath her dress.

  She lifted off the table, making it easier for him to remove her panties.

  Tate examined the wrinkled underwear then pushed it to his nose and moaned as his crotch extended.

  He knelt in front of her, widened her legs, and kissing her inner thighs.

  Damn, she needed to say something.

  Fuck it.

  “Mm.” She arched her back, rubbing her breast, ready to hump any and everything on his body.

  He stopped kissing her leg and lifted it, staring as if asking silent permission.

  She didn’t smile, shrug, or bat an eye. Since he’d taken control, she’d follow him on this journey.

  Tate stuck his index finger in her face, and she locked her lips over it and sucked.

  He then curled his arm around her trembling waist, pushed his body between her thighs and rubbed his pelvis against hers.

  “Ooh.” She pressed against him, his muscles smashing her breasts.

  He moaned while sucking her neck, smelling of the fireworks from the festival.

  He slipped his tongue into her mouth, turning her head left and right at his disposal.

  Her tongue trembled as he abandoned the kiss, held her close and stuck his finger under her dress.

  O…M…G.

  She’d never been finger fucked by a man ever.

  He tickled the thin, wet skin of her snatch, sending electric jolts through her body.

  Kayla clutched his wrist, maneuvered her ass, and shoved his finger into her pussy. “Ah.” She held his hand in place, rocking as his raw finger stroked her constricted walls. “Yes. My god, it’s incredible.” The more he poked, the wetter she got. “God, don’t stop.” She bounced, throat dry and toes curling. “Faster.”

  He increased his speed, moving his finger in and out as Kayla’s legs grew numb from the knees.

  “Please don’t stop.” She widened her legs. “Fuck me, Tate.” Her tits jumped, the bra struggling to hold them in place. “Oh!” Her toes shot out her sandals as the fiery orgasm echoed throughout her body.

  “Mm.” Tate gave her pussy one last finger thrust before taking her pulsating mouth in his.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Hey,” Malissa grumbled the next morning as she joined Kayla for breakfast at the hotel pool in denim cutoff shorts. “Ooh.” She plopped into the plastic chair, shades covering her eyes. “I feel like shit on top of shit on top of shit.”

  “That’s what you get when you drink enough liquor to get the United States Army drunk.” Kayla bit into a chilled orange slice. “I had to carry you to your room last night.”

  “Ugh.” Malissa raised her head, a green hue bursting from her pale cheeks.

  Kayla lifted her plate of fruit and toast. “You gonna throw up?”

  “You kidding?” Malissa propped her bare feet up in her chair. “I have nothing left to throw up.” She rubbed her eye. “Why did you let me drink that much?”

  “I let you drink?” Kayla sipped mocha cappuccino. “You’re a bartender. You of all people should be responsible.”

  Malissa flinched as people played in the pool. “Do they have to be so loud?”

  Kayla’s cell rang.

  She didn’t have to check the screen to see who it was.

  It rang again, and she rejected the call.

  “Who was that?” Malissa took her shades off, eyes beady and red.

  “No one.” Kayla spread strawberry jam on her toast.

  “Your face doesn’t look like it’s no one. You avoiding someone?”

  “Nope. Mind your business.”

  “Something’s up.” Malissa waved her finger. “You left last night, didn’t you? After you took me to my room.”

  “Who said I left?” Kayla spoke between chews.

  “Where did you go?”

  Kayla wiped toast crumbs from her mouth. “It was a mistake.”

  “What was a mistake?”

  Her phone rang again, and she rejected the call.

  “Is that Tate?” Malissa slapped the table. “Holy shit. You slept with him didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “But that’s who’s calling, right?” Malissa pointed to the phone. “Did you go to his place last night?”

  Kayla straightened the napkin in her lap.

  “Kay.” Malissa hit the table harder. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have taken my black ass over there.”

  “Oh my god.” Malissa covered her mouth, giggling. “You fucked him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that even mean? Either you did, or you didn’t.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “There are other things.”

  “He ate you out?” Malissa laughed and then gaped. “Wait, you blew him then?”

  “Hell no.” Kayla crossed her arms, sighing.

  “Okay if you didn’t fuck, and you didn’t eat each other than what the hell did you do?”

  “He finger-fucked me.”

  “Whoa, ho, ho!” Malissa scooted lower in the chair and threw her legs up, gaining everyone’s attention. “He finger-fucked you?”

  “Sh.” Kayla hit her arm. “Tell the entire world why you don’t?” She avoided curious stares.

  “I can’t believe it. You’re always so put together and predictable.”

  She scoffed. “You saying I’m boring?”

  “Not but you’re not wild.” Malissa folded her arms on the table, smiling as if she’d won the lottery. “I can’t believe you let a guy you just met finger-fuck you. Have we slipped into another dimension?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Kayla folded the napkin. “How could I be so irresponsible?”

  “You deserve to have fun. Nothing wrong with you and Tate getting it on.” Malissa stole a piece of toast and bit into it. “You believe in fate? Maybe your real reason for coming here is to meet Tate.”

  “He said something like that but it sounded like bullshit.”

  “When Kirby was alive you let the fallout hold you back. Now he’s dead and you’re guilty because of it. I wonder if you use Kirby as an excuse so you don’t have to deal with your own life.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Kayla scratched her toe.

  Malissa chewed, wincing. “Did you like being with Tate last nigh
t?”

  “It was great.” She got goose bumps again. “It was so romantic. A romance you can’t plan for.”

  “I guess so with the way your eyes are glazing over.” Malissa waved her hand in front of Kayla’s face. “Earth to Kayla.”

  “He was in the backyard playing the saxophone under the moonlight, Malissa. Can you fuckin’ believe that?”

  “He plays the damn saxophone?” She scrunched her face. “I hate you.”

  “I’d never been finger-fucked before.”

  “Welcome to the club.” Malissa threw up her arms. “I live here.”

  Kayla laughed. “You’re so silly.”

  “A saxophone?” Malissa pinched Kayla’s arm. “There are no words invented for the amount of jealousy I’m feeling right now. Tate might be just the medicine you need. Think about it.”

  “But, I don’t know him.”

  “Excuse me?” Malissa sipped out of Kayla’s cappuccino. “I’m betting you know him better than many people now. Are you avoiding him because you’re embarrassed or scared?”

  “I need to keep my mind on Kirby’s murder. I don’t need this distraction.”

  “Might not need it…” Malissa popped green grapes into her mouth. “But, you got it anyway, sister.”

  “Can we put the Tate stuff aside? There’s something important I need to say.”

  “What?”

  “I met this girl at the festival named Mia.” Kayla checked her watch. “I’m supposed to meet her at the Eastborn Motel at ten this morning. She claims she has information about Kirby’s murder.”

  “She could’ve killed him. Tell the Inspector and let him talk to her.”

  “I can’t tell anyone and I don’t think she wants to go to the police.” Kayla pushed her plate away. “I’m going.”

  “This is too weird. Some chick shows up out of nowhere? How did she even know who you were?”

  “I gotta see Mia.” Kayla rubbed her neck. “She might have the answers I need.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Come with me?” Kayla touched Malissa’s hand. “I don’t wanna go alone.”

  “Kay.” She sighed, stroking her dry lips. “We need to go to the police. What if she’s the killer?”