The Men of Laguna

by Kim Karr

  Her hands move to slide my boxers down. “More than ready. Take these off,” she tells me. No, she orders me. Orders me with such a cute voice that I almost laugh out loud.

  Jumping to my feet, I find myself obeying. “Whatever you say,” I laugh, unable to hold it in.

  Raising herself to her elbows once again, her eyes dart right to my crotch. “Stay there a minute—I want to see your cock.”

  Practically choking, I am at a loss for words. Laughter rolls out of me. No girl has ever said that to me.

  “Don’t laugh. Unlike you, I didn’t get to sample the goods ahead of time. I want to see you. Come closer.”

  Oh yeah, I do. “And here I’ve been calling you a good girl. Are you a sex addict? Because you have moves that are definitely addicting,” I say. And it’s so fucking true. I already want to taste her again. I want to watch her come again. I want her again and I haven’t even had her yet. She’s that addicting.

  No joke, she stares at my cock and talks at the same time. “I only wish that were true,” she laughs. “I don’t know, with you I feel comfortable being honest, telling you what I want. Weird, right?”

  I lean down and capture her mouth with mine. “Not weird at all. Tell me what you want right now—I’ll make it happen.”

  Her hands find my cock, then just like that, one of her fingers goes right to that spot beneath it. “What are you? A genie in the bottle?”

  Fuck, if I weren’t already ready for her, what she’s doing right now would make me hard instantly. “Just call me Aladdin.”

  “Get on top of me, Aladdin.”

  Complying, I do just that. “Ah, you’re a missionary kind of girl, so you are a good girl,” I tell her, stretching and hooking open my nightstand drawer with a finger.

  The movement brings my chest close to her mouth and she licks me. The feel of it makes me shiver. This girl is smoking hot. How could any guy have ever cheated on her?

  Grabbing a handful of condoms, I pull back and open my hand. “You pick.”

  She laughs. “That is quite the collection. Let me see them.”

  Sitting up, I fan them out, not at all proud that she just called them a collection.

  Taking the lot from my hand, with a laugh she says, “I haven’t used condoms in a while. I never realized there were so many options.”

  Lifting her chin to look at me, I ask, “When was the last time you had sex?”

  Lowering her gaze to read one of the labels, she answers, “Not since Sebastian and I were engaged.”

  In my case, I can’t say the same. Ever since Vanessa cheated on me I find myself fucking around whenever I want, because I can, because I never did when I was with her. And yeah, maybe it is a way to stick it to her. Who the hell knows.

  Anyway, I don’t ask Makayla any more questions because I can’t stand to hear his name roll off her tongue. Not that I’m possessive or territorial, because I’m not. I just hate the guy for what he did to her. That’s all.

  Redirecting my attention to her, I watch as she looks over her choices.

  A smile prods her lips. “Wow. Ribbed, Feather Light, Extra-Lubricated, Strawberry, or Glow in the Dark.”

  I pluck the Strawberry condom from her pile. “Not this one—that came free in one of the boxes,” I tell her and drop it to my floor.

  “And not this one, either,” she says, taking the Glow in the Dark package and tossing it aside. “That is just plain ridiculous.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

  She raises a brow.

  “Okay, maybe a little,” I concede. “Let’s start with this one.” I tap the Ribbed package.

  She raises that brow again and is left with one package in her hand. “Start?”

  Setting the others on the nightstand, I roll onto my back and place my hands behind my head, dick standing at attention. “Yep, start,” I say, rather bemused and more than ready.

  Staring at the condom, she says, “You want me to do it?”

  “Absolutely.” I smirk.

  Perhaps nervous, and I can tell that by the way her hands are shaking, she rips open the package and straddles my thighs. When she strokes up my erection, I push my hips forward. I can’t help myself.

  She does it again, and this time I untuck a hand from behind my head and slip it between her legs. Her shiver isn’t to be missed.

  I rub. She strokes. We stare at each other and within minutes we are both panting. When I slide my finger inside her and feel how fucking wet she is, I blurt out, “I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Can you do this? I never have,” she asks.

  I shake my head no. “I want you to.”

  “Fine,” she mutters and with her hands still shaking, she finally rolls the condom over my very ready dick.

  I grip her hips. “See, I knew you could.”

  Makayla leans forward and places her hands on my shoulders. “I thought you were ready?”

  I look into her eyes and shift her body slightly so that my cock is aligned with her pussy, and then slowly she begins to lower herself on top of me.

  Oh, fuck. She feels incredible.

  She stares down at me, and I nod. Soon following, she lowers herself farther. With slow, steady surges, my hips rise and fall. Moments later, she starts to move with me. We find a rhythm almost at once.

  My hands grip her hips. She shifts, and the change in angle makes every thrust feel deeper, more intimate, more intense. I look at her closed eyes, her parted lips, the look of contentment on her face. “Makayla.”

  She opens her eyes.

  My tongue slips out of my mouth to lick my lips. “I love fucking you like this . . . you look so hot when your tits bounce up and down.”

  Biting her lip, she arches her back as if wanting to show me more.

  My words come faster now. “Your pussy wraps my cock so tightly.”

  “Yes, yes,” she pants, riding me harder, faster.

  Tugging on the long strands of her hair, I pull her head to mine. I nip at her lip with my teeth and she nips back. Then I press my mouth to hers and attack it as hungrily as I feel. Soon, I’m fucking her mouth with mine.

  She moans loudly and calls out my name a few times and I’m pretty sure she’s just as far gone as I am.

  Stopping my assault on her lips, I whisper in her ear, “I’m so deep inside you, so close, I’m ready to come. . . . Are you?”

  Her response is to raise her body and then slam it down on my cock.

  “Oh, fuck,” I mutter, “now I’m really going to come.”

  Wetting her lips with a satisfied smirk on her face, she does it again.

  My hips surge to follow her rhythm.

  Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “The answer to your question is yes,” she moans. Goose bumps form along her arms and she cries out this time more frantically, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Halfway between a prayer and a curse, I shout out a string of words that make no sense and start to come. As I grip her hips tightly, she arches her spine and leans back. Fuck, that feels incredible. I find myself saying her name over and over as the pressure wells deep, deep, deeper than I can ever remember. When a tingling sensation strikes the tip of my cock from the way her pussy squeezes it, I jerk my hips up. It feels fucking unbelievable.

  Makayla shifts, leaning forward and pressing her palms to my chest, which makes the spasming only amp up into contraction-like tremors, and then that tingling turns into a current of electricity and shoots from my cock through my entire body. The incredible feeling doesn’t fade quickly, though, it only builds, and as I let myself go, I cross that threshold of indescribable pleasure over and over until I’m spent.

  Fingers clutching her hips so tightly I worry she might get bruises, I ease off and reach a hand to twine in her hair. Her eyes are still closed and I tug the strands to pull her mouth down to mine. “Come here.”

  “I am,” she giggles. “You don’t have to pull my hair.”

  “You like it a little rough, I can tell,” I sa
y, rolling us over.

  Gently, she pushes the hair that has fallen into my eyes aside. “I can honestly say before tonight I would have vehemently denied that, but the jury is out on that right now. My swollen lips and the bruises on my hips might just be deliciously sore later or hurt like hell—I’ll let you know.” Her tone is playful, light, relaxed. She’s easy like that. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.

  I’m still inside her and matching her tender touch, I kiss her softly in the aftermath of that hurricane-like sex we just had. That felt fucking amazing. This time when I think it, I have a weird thought that the feeling isn’t going to fade anytime soon.

  For some reason, the idea of it grabs me and occupies my mind for a bit.

  But not for long because it’s time to take care of business, so I pull back.

  Giving me a lazy smile, she gazes at me. I think for the first time since meeting her, I can see in her eyes what she really feels. They’re more than unguarded, they’re unshuttered, wide open, and she looks incredibly vulnerable.

  An uneasy feeling courses through me. I need to be careful and proceed with caution. Fun. We’re just looking to have fun. My life is so fucked up, I can’t allow someone else to be a part of it. The last thing I want to do is hurt Makayla. I need to figure out who I am and what I’m going to do before I dare cross that line.

  Jumping out of bed, I grab some gym shorts out of a drawer. “Let me just use the bathroom and take care of this,” I point down with a smirk, “And then I’ll walk you home.”

  No idea what her intentions were before my little announcement, she sits up and brings the sheet with her. “Yes, it’s getting late and I have a lot to do tomorrow. I should get back. You don’t have to walk me, though—it’s right next door.”

  Feeling like the biggest dick for basically kicking her out of my bed, I glance at her before closing the bathroom door. “I want to.”

  She smiles at me. “At least we’re close neighbors, so it’s not that far.”

  “And at least we won’t be frenemies,” I joke.

  “Yeah, I guess I can borrow that sugar now,” she laughs.

  Half-heartedly laughing along with her, I close the door feeling like I just made a huge mistake.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I am such a dick.

  When I come out, she’s gone and there’s a note on my nightstand near the unused condom packages. It reads, “I had fun, Cam. See you around.”

  Yeah, see you around, Makayla.

  13

  What You See Isn’t Always What You Get

  Makayla

  Seven long days later and I still haven’t seen Cam.

  Just because I spent the day after we slept together trying to figure out whether he drove the Jeep or rode the motorcycle—both were parked in the driveway of the house to my right—doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy.

  My days have been very, very busy. Unpacking. Scouting out the area. Merchandising my wares in Derek’s surf shop. Talking to Andre’s supplier. Creating a website with Maggie’s help so I can sell my most popular designs to anyone searching gemstones online. And looking for a car.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  And yes, this counts as a plan, but I can’t help myself. Maggie knows this too, which is why she’s not judging.

  I am who I am. Soon, maybe, I’ll be a little less uptight, but I’ll always be me.

  Andre did ask me out, and first I was going to say yes, but I couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t into him in that way. When I said no, he was cool with everything. Obviously he was about as into me as I was into him. Which was nothing past considering a possible friendship, but more than likely only the business relationship we were building.

  You know what they say, anyway—don’t mix business with pleasure. I think that’s good advice to follow.

  Still, even without dates, like I said, I’ve been busy.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  So it’s not like I have been running out to my balcony to see if Cam’s Jeep, which I figured out to be his vehicle only when Maggie finally told me, is the one coming and going whenever I hear the sound of crunching gravel.

  And it’s definitely not as if I care that he quickly brought our night to an end. I have a life to start living. A list to check off. I’m very busy.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  Busy.

  Too busy to care what made him turn from hot to cold faster than the speed of light. Mr. We Are Going to Need Multiple Packs of Condoms needed only one, and I know it wasn’t because he didn’t enjoy himself. No one could fake the noises of pleasure he was making.

  Whatever.

  So what if it was the best sex I ever had.

  I’m single.

  In a beach town.

  With a lot of half-dressed men.

  Hot sex will happen again.

  Right?

  “You’re not happy.” Maggie makes this observation over turkey sandwiches at The Cliff. It’s her lunch hour and she asked me to meet her here.

  “Why would you say that?”

  She points to my food. “You’re not eating.”

  That would be because the food tastes disgusting.

  But I don’t tell Maggie that.

  I pat my stomach. “Just watching what I eat. I have to wear that bikini. You know, item number one on the list.”

  She laughs. “You have to buy one first.”

  Nibbling on the gluten-free bread that tastes like nothing, I set it down. From afar it looked really good. “For your information, I’m doing that after lunch. And then I’m going to look at cars.”

  Maggie is working on the Main Beach today, which is a ten-minute walk at most from our house, so I have her car to run errands. While I’m out, I’m grabbing a hot fudge, filled with dairy, sundae. Again, I don’t tell Maggie that. Pinkberry is where she’d direct me. Dairy free, made from coconut milk, vegan yogurt. Looks good. Tastes terrible. “It’s to die for” are her words, not mine. Yet they might not be that far from the truth. I might die if I have to eat another one. Sure, I believe in balance. Eat healthy. Exercise. And a small cheat here and there. That is not Maggie’s philosophy. In fact, everything in California is so extreme.

  Gulping her wheatgrass shot in one swallow, she sets the glass down. “Cam asked about you this morning.”

  Outwardly, I shrug, but inside my belly flutters. “And?” I ask nonchalantly.

  “And nothing. That was all. Just wanted to know how you were doing.” She wipes her mouth with her napkin.

  “Oh, okay.”

  She stares at me for a long while. “Are you sure you’re not upset about what happened with him?”

  I poke my fork around my side dish of kale salad. Chips would have been so much better. “No, I’m not. I shouldn’t be, right?”

  She shrugs. “Did he make any promises?”

  Choking down a bite of the bitterness, I set my fork on the table. “No, he didn’t.”

  Maggie puckers her lips. “Then you probably shouldn’t be upset.”

  I sigh. “But he didn’t even ask me for my number.”

  She laughs. “He lives right next door.”

  “Yeah, but still, it would have been nice for him to have asked me for my phone number after I spread my legs for him, even if he never intended to use it.”

  Maggie laughs again. “Oh, you shouldn’t get hung up on that—it happens to me all the time.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “That’s a lie. You’re the one who never calls guys back.”

  “Well, you know me—it’s all about having fun.”

  “Yeah, when I think about it, we did have a lot of fun.”

  “And besides, there’s a bright side.”

  “And that would be?”

  “He helped you check number two off the list—have sex with a stranger.”

  “That’s true, but to be h
onest, forgetting about that night is harder than I thought it would be.”

  Maggie frowns and pushes her plate aside. “Do you want me to talk to him? Find out where his head is at?”

  My stomach flips at the thought, and it hasn’t been doing well this past week. “No, Maggie, that will only make matters worse. We’re neighbors. I want us to be cordial, not awkward. Everything will be forgotten soon enough. One-night stands always are.”

  Her sun-streaked, long blond hair blows in the wind from the open window beside us, and she ties it with the elastic around her wrist. “You’re certain?”

  I nod and look out at the water down below. “Most positively.”

  “Okay then,” she tells me, reaching under the table into her bag. “Two things. First, this is for you.” She plops a black bag with the name Adam & Eve scrolled across it and an outline of half an apple around the last e.

  My suspicion radar goes up immediately. “What is this?”

  She dips her finger in the last of the tofu-something sauce on her plate and then sucks it off. “A gift.”

  Eyeing her skeptically, I peek over the bag but can’t see anything beyond the red paper. Slowly, I poke around inside as if a giant anaconda might announce its presence at any second. When I’ve shifted enough tissue, I pull the item out slightly. The small box reads LELO Mia 2 Rechargeable Clitoral Vibrator. My jaw drops and I shove it back inside.

  Maggie sits in her chair and crosses her very tanned, very long legs. “Number seven on the list,” she says with a grin. “It’s small and portable. And you can use the USB on your laptop to charge it.”

  Shoving the bag in my purse near my feet, I sit up and slurp the last of my berry smoothie. “Why, thank you, Maggie, you shouldn’t have,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Big, blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight with an innocence that would make any best friend want to claw them out. Okay, that wasn’t nice.

  The waiter takes our money for the check and I know lunch is coming to an end.

  Almost afraid to ask, I do so only to get it out of the way. “Do I want to know what the other thing is?”

  Maggie checks the time on her phone and stands up. “We’re going to the Underground tomorrow night. It’s a dance club, so while you’re out shopping maybe you should pick something up to wear.”