by Ann Denton
I straighten and reach out, letting my fingers trace down the soft little hairs. I look up at Kenneth as I reach for the button on his pants, my eyes asking if I can undo it.
He nods. I pull the button and then slowly undo the zipper, enjoying the thrill of anticipation and the tiny bit of control I get from making him wait. I leisurely pull his pants down his legs and he steps out of them. I realize he has bare feet. He must have gotten rid of his shoes when he walked in.
My hands reach up for his boxers and I slowly pull those down, admiring the length of his dick. He’s definitely bigger than Jeremy. His dick is long and curved slightly. I lean forward and place my mouth around the head. There’s already a couple drops of pre-cum. No surprise, given how long he’s been teasing me.
I start to lick the shaft, but Kenneth pulls me back and asks, “Watermelon or mango?”
More fruit? I start to shake my head, ready for kinky time to end and real fucking to begin, but then he holds out his hands. He’s got two mini vials of edible lube that must have come from his shirt pocket. Watermelon-flavored or mango.
“Watermelon.” I decide I might as well make every fruit salad for the rest of my days remind me of this insane night of hot sex.
Kenneth grins and flicks open the vial. He drips the lube up and down his dick. Then he stares at me and says—with mock seriousness, “What the hell are you waiting for?”
I smile and sink to my knees. I take him in my mouth and am pleasantly surprised by how good the watermelon tastes. It tastes more like real watermelon and less like candy than I expected. I wonder if Kenneth made these lubes himself. Probably.
I hum in appreciation as my mouth slides up and down his dick. My fingers close around the base of his shaft and pump him, getting him harder than ever. I start to go faster. And faster. Until Kenneth yanks at my hair and pulls me back, gasping, “Stop! You’re gonna make me come.”
I grin. “That’s the point.”
“Oh no. I’m coming in that pussy.” He helps me to my feet and places my hands back on the worktable. I hear the rip of foil and he sheathes himself with a condom.
Then his hand finds my opening and spreads my wetness around before he slowly slides in. Oh my God. It’s never felt this good before. I just want him to start pounding. I move my hips, but he places his hands on them, locking me in place. “No. I’m fucking you. Not the other way around, Katie.”
He starts to move slowly in and out, leisurely. He doesn’t even go balls deep. I’m left panting, mewling, whining, “More. Harder. More.”
He doesn’t answer. He just puts his hand back on my slit and starts sliding it up and down. It feels good. But I’ve already come so many times that I need more. “Harder, faster,” I whisper again.
He starts to flick my clit. Fuck. “Yes! That! Keep doing that!” I tell him. He complies. He starts to fuck me harder too, holding on tight with one hand as his pelvis smacks into my ass with each thrust. Yes. Yes. Yes. My mind becomes an endless string of yesses as he fucks me. And when I come a final time, it’s so intense it’s almost painful. It’s fire and smoke and a rumbling blast off into space. I float around afterward. Mindless and weightless.
Kenneth comes a second after I do and once he does, his weight presses me into the table for a minute. When his senses recover, he places a small kiss in the middle of my back and says, “Thank you.”
“No. That was … there are no words.”
He grins and spins me around. “That good, huh?”
“That good.” I agree.
Kenneth disposes of his condom and brings me a warm towel to clean up. Then he dons his clothes. “So, you’d be up for more kinky food sex sometime?”
“Hell fucking yes,” I say.
“Good.” He smacks my ass and says, “I have to get to work on the morning menu. Competition starts tomorrow. Those guys’ll need a lotta options for breakfast.”
I nod. I swallow hard. I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly disappointed that he’s jumping right back to work. He’s already scrubbing down our sex table and tossing away the used corn cobs while I dress. I scold myself for being a stupid and needy. We agreed to be fuck buddies. He told me work comes first. I completely agree with that sentiment. Or … at least … I thought I did.
It’s just the great sex, I tell myself. I’m used to a mediocre orgasm that quells the urge a bit and that’s all. I’ve never had this kind of crazy sex before. The kind where you just want to bask in the afterglow.
That’s it. That’s all this is. Just the desire to bask.
But Kenneth’s right. I don’t have time to bask. I have all the competitions set up for tomorrow.
I head toward the door and Kenneth calls my name.
“Hey Katie, catch!”
I turn just in time to snatch a corn on the cob out of the air.
“In case you want a snack later,” he winks.
I laugh and clutch that corn on the cob to my chest. “I’ll take good care of it,” I promise.
“Nah, make sure it takes good care of you.” He winks and then walks off into his pantry.
His little flirtation has me floating high again. See? I tell myself. You can totally do this. Casual fuck buddies.
But no casual fuck buddy has made me walk out the door feeling lighter than air.
I toss my corn cob on my minibar countertop, shower off the stickiness, and get rid of my pomegranate seed bracelet. Then I change into a swimsuit, tossing a tank top and shorts over it.
I get Heather and the guys set up on the beach with a bonfire and smore fixings.
The twins heft Heather up on their shoulders and carry her down to the water, splashing through the waves and tossing her in, laughing.
Peter Brown and Jeremiah Bible try throwing marshmallows in one another’s mouths. BJ lays back on a towel with his I-don’t-give-a-fuck New York Italian vibe.
Heather comes stumbling back up to the beach, soaked, and Andrew wraps a towel around her. They sink into the sand.
Heather says something. Andrew nods his agreement and gives her shoulder a squeeze, laughing softly. I watch them watching the ocean together. And suddenly, the sense of satisfaction I got from an amazing sex session recedes. I’m left longing again. This time, for something as simple as an arm around my shoulders.
Chapter Nineteen
My watch buzzes. There’s no time for emotion in event planning. It’s always go-go-go. I’ve got to go meet with the Cross-Fit person we hired to set up a modified course.
The staff was helping him all afternoon and I have to do a final check to make sure it’s not too dangerous. Heather’s guys are ripped, that was a pre-requisite for the matchmaking company, but … they aren’t all Marines or anything.
I walk along the path lined with tropical bushes and trees. It isn’t long before I can’t see the villas anymore. All I can hear are the night sounds of nature. A bat swoops past, a little too close for comfort, and I duck. Dammit! I shoulda’ brought a flashlight, I scold myself.
I hear a voice a little further down. Hopefully, it’s the Cross-Fit dude. I round a curve in the path only to stop, dead. It’s not the Cross-Fit guy. It’s Anthony Drake. He’s on the phone. That would be no big deal, except Heather said she gets a weird vibe from him. I slide out of my flip flops and back away silently, so I can hear but not be seen. Maybe he’s just closing a real estate deal. Or calling his sister.
“Yeah. Yeah. She’s kinky as fuck…”
Not talking to his sister then.
“I’m working on it. God, you’re pushy. Well—Rome wasn’t built in a day. Yeah. Okay. Well, then, fucking fire me,” he growls.
Oh, this is about work. I slink off and give him about twenty more feet. Awkward. How awful would it be if the guy got fired for coming here? Wonder if that’s why he’s being weird. That would suck. I decide I’ll tell Heather about it.
I’m just shooting her a text when Anthony storms past.
I look up and say, “Oh, hi,” but he breezes past me
without a word. I sigh and wonder if a gift basket is an appropriate ‘sorry you got fired’ gift. Fuck. Maybe one of those beer of the month clubs would be better. I close my eyes briefly and shake it off. I have competitions to prepare for, male egos to ruin.
I take a deep breath and set off back down the path into the darkness. It’s go time.
Go time lasts way too long. The sun rises too fucking early in the morning. I’ve gotten maybe three hours of sleep. I drink a crap energy drink. I toss the second into the pocket of my tan shorts. I check myself over in the mirror really quickly as I toss my brown mane in a bun. My blazer and shorts combo rides the line between professional and sexy. I might be showing off a bit today after I woke up and saw my corn cob.
I whistle a little as I toss on mascara, any other makeup will melt off me during the mid-morning challenges outside.
I do a little jog in place to get my blood moving before I toss on my wedges. Today, I don’t want to miss a second. The guys know that the group dates are done, and the competition portion of Heather’s sorting is up. But … none of them know what the fuck the competitions will be. I rub my hands together like some evil mastermind as I grab a gift bag and make my way down to the pool area.
Jeremiah Bible gives me a weak, gap-toothed smile and wave as he nurses his coffee.
Peter Brown and Andrew are deep in a conversation about baseball that sounds way too intense for early morning.
BJ stands off to the back, in a corner, watching everyone like he’s some kind of bouncer.
The twins both recline in poolside chairs, sunglasses over their eyes. I suspect they’re still asleep.
Tony Drake is talking with Heather as I approach. Good. Hopefully, now that she knows work is his issue, they can iron out their little kinks.
I spot Danny coming around the corner with the supplies I need for the first challenge. He agreed to help me last night when he found me running around at three in the morning. I’d thought he was lying … but there he is. I grin at him and he grins right back. He’s kind of sweet when he tells the truth.
I walk over to the edge of the pool and wait for a second until everyone’s eyes are on me. “Good morning, gentlemen. Today we’ll separate the men from the boys.” I raise my eyebrows dramatically. You’ll have four separate competitions today. Another two tomorrow. If you survive all of those, then you’ll face the gauntlet. Are you ready?”
I get a series of nods or quiet affirmations. BJ lazily makes his way closer to the group. Bullshit. They need to get excited.
“I said are you ready?”
Heather waves her hands in the air and yells, “Hell yeah I am!”
The guys chuckle and then start shouting. “Yeah!”
I put a hand to my ear. This is the only time in my life I’m probably ever gonna get to do this. “I can’t hear you! All together … are you ready?”
“HELL YEAH!”
I grin as Danny comes to stand next me, a pile of laptops under each of arm.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
He just winks.
I turn back to Heather’s guys.
“Well, then, now that you’re all awake. Let’s put those brains to work. You have twenty minutes to buy Heather the perfect gift online. Five-hundred-dollar limit. Your gift cards are in this bag. Choose two day shipping no matter the cost and use the address for the island’s PO Box, saved in the document on each laptop’s main screen. If you all could line up by that break in the concrete …” The guys line up as I set the gift bag down by the edge of the pool. I ask Danny to put the laptops down by the edge of the pool. We leave the danger zone.
“Time starts now!” I screech and the seven guys scurry toward the pool. They each grab a laptop and there’s nearly a fistfight over the gift card bag before Peter Brown yanks it out of Andrew’s hands, grabs a card, and tosses the rest in the pool.
“Foul!” Jeremiah Bible yells.
I simply shrug. “All’s fair in love and war.”
Six clothed men jump into the pool and dive and wrestle for the gift cards. I go sit by Heather and Danny follows behind.
Her eyes are locked on the wrestling men in the water. “OMFG. I didn’t know wet t-shirt contests worked so well in reverse, but hot damn!” she groans and fans herself as one of the twins gets a gift card, strides out the steps of the pool, yanks off the t-shirt that was clinging to his abs, and reveals wet, sculpted man-torso. He’s smooth, so every ridge of his six pack is right there.
Even though he’s not my type, I can’t help ogling. Danny clears his throat. I ignore him. He scoots closer. I ignore him because the Russian guy just popped the top button of his shorts. And—whack—a palm smacks my face and fingers cover my eyes.
“No,” Danny growls.
I laugh. “Relax. Geez. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Naked Friendships? Remember that?”
“You weren’t staring then.”
“I’m not staring now,” I point at his hand covering my eyes.
“You were going to,” he grumbles.
“So?”
“So … you should let them have their dignity. What the fuck is that?” Danny’s rant is cut off. I pry his hand away from my eyes to see what’s going on. Of the six guys who went diving, five are now nude. But Russian Twin Number Two is wearing …
“What is that?” I whisper to Danny.
“No idea.”
“It’s called the pouch-singlet according to my phone,” Heather giggles as she snaps a pic of Rubin or Reval. He’s wearing a green swimsuit that basically wraps around one thigh, cups his junk, and leaves way too many pubes visible. It kind of looks like he’s attached a very thick green sock puppet to his pelvis. All it needs is googly eyes.
“Goddamn. I feel like I should have a pile of ones next to me,” Heather says.
“Why?” I reply. “It’s not like they left on anything you could tuck the bills into …” I shake my head. “Who’d have thought Naked Friendships was so effective.”
She shrugs. “When you combine it with naked playtime—”
“Shh.” I tell her.
“Yeah, shh,” Danny repeats. “My eyes are already burning. I don’t need my ears to bleed, too.”
I roll my eyes. “You had zero problems with naked men a week ago.”
“A week ago you weren’t staring at their huevos like you wanted to eat them for breakfast,” Danny shoots back.
He’s being awfully territorial. I give Heather a ‘what the hell’ look but only get smug satisfaction in response. She even mouths “harem” at me.
I wave her off. Because that’s not happening. I can only handle one fuck buddy at a time. “Ok, new topic. Presents.”
She giggles. “So, what do you think they’re getting me?”
I shrug. “We’ll find out. What do you think they’ll get you?”
Her eyes narrow as she studies each of them. “Peter Brown—”
“Butt plugs!” I tease.
She laughs. “Nope. I think he’ll get me silk sheets. He made a comment about those the other day.”
“The twins?”
“I don’t know if they know how to read in English,” she admits. “But I don’t know if I care.”
I chuckle.
“Andrew?”
She turns to me and her smile is soft, different from when she talked about the others. “Well, I’m not sure …”
“Yes you are.”
She bites her lip and shakes her head. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” I growl, leaning in.
“You remember those shoes that were really popular when we were in high school? The ones with the wheels in the heels?”
“Yeah?” I vaguely remember Heather wanting those.
“Your mom would never let us even touch those. And … anyway, I told him about it. He said he’d had some and he’d teach me sometime.”
I hit her shoulder with mine. “That’s so super cute! Now I hope he doesn’t go buy you a frickin’ purse or something!”
She laughs. “I know, right? That would be disappointing. Momma don’t want a namebrand bag. Hell no!”
We laugh together and I accidentally end up leaning back against Danny. I glance up at him and he grins.
He says, “I think we should get in on this. I never had those shoes either.”
“You didn’t?” I ask. “Everyone had them.”
He shrugs. “Couldn’t twist an ankle. Then I couldn’t play tennis.” His eyes get dark for a moment and I wonder what he’s remembering. Before I can ask, my watch buzzes.
“Time’s up!” I jump up and Danny and I collect the laptops and gift cards. I see a lot of sex toy shop websites open. But I also spy a massage. A purse. Andrew’s already completely shut down his laptop so I can’t sneak a peek.
I put everything on a table nearby. “Alright. Round two. Every good harem member has to be good at making his lady breakfast in bed. You’ll have a half hour to complete your task. I’m setting my watch. To the kitchen!”
The guys trot off obediently, ignoring their nudity. Guess they’ve spent so much naked time on this island, it’s no longer a thing.
Danny walks over to me and pulls some suckers out of his pocket. He hands me one and sticks the other in his mouth.
“Where’d you get those?”
“Secret contact.”
I narrow my eyes but take a sucker. I’m totally raiding his room again later.
He laughs at the look in my eyes. “It’s all hidden.”
“Like buried treasure, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Maybe I’m a pirate.”
“I’d love to see you in a pirate outfit.”
I shake my head, about to try to think of something clever to say. But a loud yell breaks up the moment.
“OUT! OUT! NO NAKED MEN IN MY KITCHEN!”
“And that would be Kenneth,” Danny says calmly.
I sigh and stride toward the kitchen. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I paste on my fake smile and my determination not to let people kill one another.
After a ten-minute break where everyone gets sent to their rooms for a brief timeout like they’re three-year-olds, the competition resumes. With clothing. As the guys toss on the aprons and gloves Kenneth has set out, Alec appears in the doorway of the kitchen.