Pleasure Point: The Complete Series

by Evans, Jennifer

  Pleasure Point – The Complete Series

  Oceans of Obsession

  Peaks of Passion

  Surge of Lust

  Waves of Desire

  Jennifer Evans

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  Reader Advisory: This book has deeply sensual, steamy love scenes described in graphic detail and is recommended for readers aged 18 or older.

  “Let the sea set you free.”

  —Unknown

  Oceans

  of

  Obsession

  Pleasure Point Series Prequel

  Chapter One

  I cranked the Led Zeppelin and patted Ol’ Betsy’s dashboard. “Good girl. You and me? We’re heading to the beach.”

  Before I merged onto I-25, I checked my side mirror. Santa Fe rapidly disappeared in the dust. Someone once told me the first thing they did after buying a new car was to break off the rearview mirror. “You have to look forward,” he’d said. But was that really possible? Can any of us truly leave the past behind?

  I rummaged through my handbag and extracted a joint. I was going to need it before arriving in Point Loma after twelve long years. Last time I’d been there was 1988. That was a long time ago. Sometimes it felt like yesterday. I lit the weed and inhaled deeply.

  * * *

  The first time I laid eyes on Dominick, I knew I was a goner. I was eighteen, enduring the last few months of high school before I could escape and find true freedom.

  Art class was the usual raucous environment that day. One of the kids threw a chalkboard eraser across the room; another expertly caught it. The girl sitting at the table next to mine slouched in her seat, headphones blaring rock music.

  Carissa and I sat side by side, our heads bent together.

  “Are you going out with James again?” she said.

  I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Don’t bring up his name. Please?”

  “But Rosalyn, I thought you liked him.”

  “He’s not who I thought he was.”

  She cocked her head. “What do you mean? We’ve known James forever. He’s one of us.”

  “Can we not talk about him?”

  Our gossipy chat was brought to a close when the principal appeared at the door. She stood ramrod straight with a commanding presence and the entire class quieted.

  “Mr. Thomas!” Her voice boomed through the classroom and Mr. Thomas snapped to attention. She took one step into the room, and that’s when I noticed a boy standing behind her. “We have a new student joining us today.”

  The boy towered over her, his posture straight. He surveyed the room, taking in each one of our faces as though making silent judgments. The way he stood made me think of a king leaning over his balcony, all his servants bowed down to his glory. One word came to mind: confident. I was intrigued. If it had been me, I would’ve cowered behind the principal. But not this guy.

  The principal said, “Everyone, say hello to Dominick Cortes. He just moved here from Brazil, and I want you all to make him feel welcome.”

  Without waiting for instruction, Dominick swaggered past the principal, past Mr. Thomas, and made his way past the tables set up in front of the class and straight to the back where Carissa and I sat.

  Magnetism oozed off him. He dressed differently than all the rest of the boys at Point Loma High. While they preferred shorts and T-shirts, Dominick wore a pair of faded jeans and a long-sleeved flowered shirt that most of the guys would’ve called lame. His long hair fell over his shoulders and was the most delicious sable color. I wanted to run my fingers through that hair right then and there.

  He found an empty seat at the table directly next to ours. He sat down, stretched his legs in front of him and slumped down.

  The principal folded her arms and said to Mr. Thomas, “Make sure everyone gives our new student a Point Loma welcome.” She turned on her heel and was gone.

  The room was silent as we all stared at the new boy. Mr. Thomas said, “Dominick, I’d like you to sit up front please.”

  Dominick smiled lazily. “I’m fine here, Mr. Thomas.”

  “But I think you’d learn more if you moved up front.”

  “I can learn just fine back here, sir.”

  The room tittered. Mr. Thomas cleared his throat audibly and smoothed wisps of hair over his balding head. “If you have any questions that I can’t answer, Rosalyn will help you. She’s at the table next to yours. Rosalyn is one of our best art students.”

  Dominick’s gaze traveled to me where he took a leisurely tour of my body starting with my breasts, down my legs, back up my body, and ending on my face. His startling green eyes held amusement. He winked at me.

  My body felt hot, and I nervously glanced at Carissa. She lifted her eyebrows.

  * * *

  After school, Carissa and I headed down to the beach before doing our homework. We sat side by side, our bare feet touching. Carissa said, “What about that new boy?”

  My body grew warm. “What about him?”

  “You should’ve heard what people were saying about him in the lunchroom today.”

  “Like what?”

  “The word is, he got kicked off the pro surfing tour because he beat somebody up.” A thrill ran through me. “And, supposedly, his mom kicked him out of the house.”

  “Where’s he living now?”

  Carissa twirled a strand of her red hair. “I don’t know. Poor guy. That sucks that he got kicked off the tour. They say he was one of the best.”

  “Do they let them compete that young?”

  She scanned the ocean where at least twenty surfers vied for waves. “I heard he’s nineteen. They say he got held back a year for skipping school.” Her voice became wistful. “Isn’t his accent divine?”

  We both looked up as James sauntered toward us, his surfboard tucked under his arm. When he saw me, his face lit up with a broad smile. He collapsed next to me in the sand and sat so close to me that seawater drenched my top. “Hey, Roz. You been avoiding me?”

  I scooted away. “I’ve just been busy.”

  He set his surfboard aside and put an arm around my shoulders. “I thought maybe you and I could hang out. You know, like we used to.”

  I gently removed his arm. “Shouldn’t you be surfing?”

  He drew his legs toward his body and hugged them. “The lineup’s too crowded with kooks today.”

  The three of us gazed out at the ocean. The waves were probably six-feet high that day, big enough to require more than a nodding acquaintance with surfing. Most of the athletes were great surfers, executing perfect bottom turns, riding the glassy waves with skill. But one stood out. He actually performed aerial maneuvers! He’d catch a wave, and when he got to the sweet spot at the top, his board became airborne, his hand clutching the rail of the board before smacking back down with precision. Then, he’d ride with style, his long dark hair whipping behind him, his powerful body perfectly balanced, spume flying up behind him.

  “Whoa, did you see that?” Carissa said.

  James scowled. “Like I said, the lineup’s too crowded today.” His foot nudged mine. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  I averted my gaze. “Okay.”

  He stood up, grabbed his board and raced to the parking lot. “See you around.”

  Carissa eyed me with amusement. “The guy won’t give up. Are you going out with him again?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?“

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Come on Roz.
I’m your best friend. If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?”

  I was saved from answering when Carissa and I spotted Dominick striding our way. My heart did this little flutter thing when I realized that he was the out-of-control talented surfer we’d been watching. At one point, his athletic frame blocked out the sun, so all I could see was his silhouette, and he looked like a perfect marble likeness of Michelangelo’s David. As he made his way to the parking lot, he seemed to notice us at the last second. He stopped mid-stride and grinned.

  “Ah, the lovely ladies from art class. Do you mind if I sit?” Not waiting for a response, he sat next to me; about an inch separated us. He set his board aside and extended his hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Dominick.”

  Carissa nearly knocked me over in her haste to shake his hand. “Well hello, Dominick. I’m Carissa.” It seemed to me that Carissa held his hand a bit too long.

  His green eyes twinkled when he looked at me. “And you’re Rosalyn. Such a lovely name. So American.” He stuck out his hand. We shook, and he covered my hand with his other hand in a warm embrace. “Are you the teacher’s pet?”

  My throat felt dry, and I swallowed. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because the teacher told me you’re his best art student.”

  Carissa said, “She was born with a paintbrush in her hand.”

  His gaze held mine. I began to feel uncomfortable because he wouldn’t let go of my hand. I slithered it free. I stared at his chest. A lump formed in my throat, and I slowly became aware that he must’ve caught me gawking. I quickly snapped my head up. “I’m not that great.”

  Carissa shoved me playfully. “One of these days you’ll be famous.” She said to Dominick, “Speaking of famous. You’re a great surfer. We saw you out there manhandling it.”

  He let out a quiet laugh. “I do what I can.” He rested back on his elbows, his long legs in front of him. “Surfing’s all I’ve ever done. I guess you could say it’s in my blood. Do you two surf?”

  Carissa said, “No. We like to watch, though. Is it true you were on the pro tour?”

  A haunted look came into his eyes. “Yeah. I was.” Then he shook his head and touched my foot with his. “Hey, I like that nail polish you’re wearing. What color is it?”

  “That would be pink,” I said.

  “Feminine, just like you.” His gaze swept over my body again. My heartbeat sped up and the California day suddenly felt extra hot. He leisurely moved to a crouch and stared into my eyes. “If either one of you ever wants surf lessons, just say the word.”

  Carissa said, “Will you teach us those aerials?”

  His gaze flicked to Carissa, then back to me. “Sure.” He stood up and grabbed his board. “See you two in class tomorrow.”

  We watched him saunter away, both of us silent until he was all the way to the parking lot where he strapped his board to the top of an old beige Chevy. When he was done securing the board, he looked our way and gave a little wave.

  “Oh my gosh, I think he likes you,” Carissa said. “I guess he must think I’m attached.”

  I didn’t know if Dominick was interested in me or not. I knew one thing. With his dark exotic beauty and his heavenly accent he was different than the surfer boys I’d been around all my life.

  I suppose you could say fate brought us together.

  What I wasn’t expecting was how much his magnetic pull would hook me.

  Chapter Two

  The next day was a Friday, and Carissa came over after school for a sleepover. She sat cross-legged on my bed, headphones covering her ears, her fingers tapping out a tune. She removed them and leaned against the headboard, smiling broadly. “I’ve been thinking.” The look in her eye told me another one of her plans was brewing.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t think too hard. What’s up?”

  “I think you need to go for it with Dominick.”

  At the sound of his name my face, neck, and ears felt impossibly warm. “I’m not interested.”

  “Oh, come off it. The guy’s so fine. And it’s not like you and I haven’t hooked up before.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Carissa stood up and walked over to my ghetto blaster, flipped a switch and George Michael’s voice filled the air. “Oh! I love this song.” Her lithe body began to gyrate. She stopped moving and said, “Hey, remember when we nabbed those sex books from your mom’s room?”

  I swatted her. “No one wants to imagine their parents in bed.”

  “She did have some pretty good ones. What was that book we devoured?”

  “The Joy of Sex?”

  She placed a hand over her mouth and laughed. “There were some great ideas in there. Things you could use on Dominick.” She dragged his name out in a teasing way. “I saw the way he looked at you. Isn’t he the sexiest?”

  I bit my lip. “Carissa?”

  “What’s up?”

  She sat on the bed next to me, and I looked her in the eyes. “Do you think you and I will ever find someone better? You know, somebody worthwhile?”

  “Of course, we will.”

  “We’re not kids anymore. School’s almost over, and I want something different. Like maybe moving out of Point Loma, going somewhere new.”

  “Somewhere that all the guys don’t gossip about us, you mean?”

  “Somewhere with good guys. Men who respect us.” What I was doing my darnedest not to say was that I had a reputation amongst the surfers for being easy. But Carissa already knew all that.

  “I thought maybe you and James would become an item,” she said.

  I felt cold all over at the sound of his name. “James? He’s not right for me.”

  “What’s wrong with him? You used to keep me on the phone all night talking about him.” Her voice took on a singsong quality. “James, James, James.” She picked up a hairbrush and smacked me. “I was beginning to think you two would run away and get married in Vegas or something.”

  I swallowed over a lump in my throat. “Yeah, I thought so too, but I’m over it.”

  She cocked her head. “Why?”

  “He’s just too immature.” I needed to change the subject. “Hey, remember when you liked that kid David in sixth grade?”

  Her gaze strayed heavenward. “Ah yes, David with the banana seat bicycle. Remember how we’d watch him pop wheelies down at the park? His hair fell over his eyes just right and I thought he was the coolest. He gave me my first slimy kiss and I was in love.”

  “And then you saw him kissing another girl—”

  “And I called it off with him.” She burst into laughter. “We used to take this stuff so seriously.”

  I sighed, wishing all I had to worry about were goofy grade school boys. “One of these days we’ll fall in love.”

  She grinned. “Tell me about it. Maybe somebody’ll come along who’s worthy. How about Dominick?”

  I smiled at my friend and caressed her head. “I’ll think about it. Come on, let’s braid each other’s hair.”

  Carissa and I had been friends since we were little. She knew most of my secrets. We had discovered boys around the same time and thought we were the first females on earth to become initiated to the wonders of sexual healing and orgasms.

  I stroked Carissa’s red locks. “I love your hair. You’ll never have to dye it.” I squinted my eyes, my artist’s eye appraising. “When I paint your portrait, I’ll use cadmium red with a little orange.” Carissa whirled around and touched my wild curly mane. “Are you kidding me? I wish I had gorgeous blond hair like yours.” We laughed, and fell into a peaceful rhythm, braiding each other’s hair as we gossiped about boys before we hit the hay.

  In the dark, I heard Carissa’s even breathing but I couldn’t sleep. As I lay on my blow-up bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dominick. I was entranced by his enthusiasm for surfing, his exotic accent, how his mesmerizing green eyes looked right through me and straight into my soul. And ye
s, I was hypnotized by his hard body. When I’d seen him in his wetsuit that day at the beach, I hoped he hadn’t noticed the way I’d branded his body with my gaze. Dominick with the powerfully built shoulders, what I imagined being a finely sculpted back, his flat abs, his muscular arms and legs, his toned ass.

  I glanced at my dresser where my healing crystals sat on display—amethyst, rose quartz, and moonstone. Getting to my knees, I clutched the moonstone to my chest and said a silent prayer that things would be different in my sex life.

  James and I had been hot and heavy for several months. He was a bleached blond surfer boy with a swagger and attitude. I liked him. The first time we had sex, I gave him a blowjob under the school bleachers in the dark of night, his hands grabbing my hair and gagging me with his huge dick until he came in my mouth.

  We’d meet up at his house while his parents were at work and he’d pin me to his mattress and fuck me, his thrusts quick and delicious. He liked to tease my pussy with his hot tongue, dipping it into my depths, until I finally showed him how to find the tight knot of my clit. He’d spread me wide while I lay back and let him work me over until the juice dripped out of me all over the sheets, my feet digging into his shoulders, my back arching as I came. Then he’d bury his cock inside me and fuck me hard.

  One day, James decided he wanted to experiment. “How about I tie your hands behind your back and fuck you in the ass?” I told him no way was he giving me anal, and we finally agreed on a compromise. He’d tie my hands and fuck my wet pussy instead.

  At first I was into it. I bent over his dresser, he cinched zip ties around my wrists and I spread my legs. But when he rammed into me, it was too hard. I couldn’t move my arms and it freaked me out. I told him to stop, but there was no stopping James that day. He pinched my nipples so hard I thought they’d bleed. He pumped furiously away as I whimpered, my head turned to the side.

  Funny what you remember about things like that. My memory is of his ridiculous Super Mario Brothers video game cover staring me right in the face. “Oh fuck Roz, you love this don’t you? You’re a nasty bitch.” He screamed as he came inside me. When he was done, he spun me around and kissed me so hard my lip bled. My wrists had burned for days.