Hot-Blooded (20 page)

She shook her head and did a shitty job of frowning over the smile itching for a scratch of attention. God, how he loved unnerving her. He’d miss her. A lot more than he wanted to admit.

They stared at each other for a long moment. She broke the seal on the silence. “I need you out of my life, Blake.”

He nodded. “Ditto. So, let me sneak you out of here to our secret hideaway. We’ll get the fucking out of our systems, and I’ll hop a plane home tomorrow. You can pretend you never met me.” His back to the camera, he leaned into her ear, slid a finger down the length of her arm, threaded the tips of his fingers between hers, and whispered, “You can pretend I never made you come so hard, you forgot both of your names.” He inhaled the thick flowery scent rolling off her skin. “You can pretend to forget about me while you secretly wish you had me back where I belong. Between your legs.” His fingers wandered over and invaded the crotch of her shorts with a single stroke.

A knowing grin spread over her lips like a nasty virus. When she smiled like that, trouble always followed. He suddenly got the feeling he might be the one who’d be eaten alive and not the other way around. No matter. Being used by a hot piece of ass like Kea had already proven worth the cost.

Without a word, she disappeared into the storeroom. She had a brief conversation with Manō, then reappeared with phone in hand and her purse slung over a shoulder. She tapped out the code to unlock her phone—five, five, six, six, if he wasn’t mistaken—and texted someone. She locked the cell, dropped it into her bag, and slipped an arm through the crook of Blake’s. “Let’s go.”

Well, all righty, then. He escorted her to the Prius waiting for her outside. Once she was safely in and seat belted, he leaned through the open window and fought the urge to kiss her. Plenty of time for that later.

“Wanna place bets on how many orgasms I give you?”

“One big one’s all I need, lover. Then I’ll be free of you.” Her green eyes flashed.

If only it were that easy. He glanced down to her lap. “How about you get warmed up on the way over and start working that little beauty to save me some time. I have big plans for you tonight, Kea. Gonna make our goodbye fuck extra special.”

She eased against the seat, stretched her legs, and dove into her shorts. Rhythmic arm jerking ensued, and the air filled with more of her scent—the primal one rather than the spray-on kind. God, he wished he could have seen what was shaking inside the fabric, but she gave him a pretty good idea when she dragged the hand out and curled her wet fingers over his bottom lip in a tight clamp.

With a long, slow blink, he sucked, savoring her taste. “Fuckin’ tease,” he said around her digits. She pulled them out and slapped his face once.

“See you soon.” She turned on the engine and raced out of the parking lot, nearly running over Blake’s toes in the process.

Left staring after her with a huge boner, Blake hopped into his rental and followed her to the resort. He wasn’t proud of what he had to do, but he reminded himself for the umpteenth time this was business. Kea wouldn’t be able to find him. There were plenty of fail-safes in place to protect him and Scott.

Still … Despite all the perfectly sensible reasons to avoid her, he liked her. He didn’t enjoy the thought of using her to get what he needed. She’d never forgive him. But he was nothing if not loyal. When it came down to choosing between a lifelong friendship or a fling with a sexy-as-hell vixen, he picked Scott every time.

But was what he and Kea had really just a fling? Or did it go deeper than that?

He shook his head. You could walk away from a fling. Walking away from Kea was no problem. She was nothing more than a drug lord murderer, hell-bent on making money. No different from him, really.

Kea waited for him in the resort parking lot and followed him to the room without a word. Once inside, she tossed aside her glasses and hat and withdrew from her purse a plastic bag containing a sprig of dried green foliage. She waved it at him. “You said you wanted Pāhoehoe. Consider this a parting gift on one condition. You can’t take any of it with you when you leave. Anything left over when our business is concluded goes down the toilet. Got it?”

Blake salivated. “Got it.”

She stuffed the bag in his hands, and then slid open the balcony’s glass door. The screen in place, she rolled her shorts down her thighs, revealing the gem he was dying to mine. With his tongue. She stepped out of the pool of fabric at her feet, released her bounteous boobs from the holding cell of her bikini top, and shook out the mass of black hair that hit her waist.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” She gestured to the baggie.

While Blake loaded the hash pipe he always kept in his pocket, she moseyed over and graced the bed with the length of her backside. Hair splayed around her on the pillow, and her brown skin created the perfect contrast against the soft white cotton duvet cover. Blake sat beside her, lit the pipe, and puffed.

The burn was mild. The flavor a little sweet. Much as he would’ve enjoyed getting totally fucked up, he had work to do. He leaned over her prone body, latched onto her lips, and blew a gentle stream of smoke into her lungs. Her eyes widened, and she jerked away. He lifted his torso and kneaded her bare breasts as he straddled her. “Easy, baby. Just relax.” She calmed and exhaled his gift. With a flick of his wrist, he undid his shorts and crawled out of them.

He ripped the flint on his lighter and burned another toke, which he breathed into her mouth again in a slow-moving whisper of a kiss. Damn, this shit was good. Only two hits, and he already felt the effects. By the looks of it, so did Kea. Her lids lowered. His erection nestled against her wetness.
Home sweet home.
Arms ensnared him around the shoulders, and her legs split open, inviting him in.

Don’t mind if I do …

He adjusted his position and eased into her. He pumped gently, relishing the grip choking him in the best way, the moans pressed to his ear, and the dizzying high climbing with each heartbeat.

“That feels good.” Kea focused on something behind him.

“You’re gonna miss me tomorrow, babe.”

“Only your cock. The rest of you can go to hell.” Her features softened, and she grinned at him. Something innocent hid under that look and almost convinced him to leave without the info he needed. Her soul—her passion—vivisected in brilliant red, orange, and yellow glazes and baked in the oven of a volcano. Lying in wait for generations to come.

Or maybe it was the pot that illuminated her insides.

“It’s a good cock,” he bragged and glanced down to where their bodies merged into one heavenly being.

“The best cock,” she murmured and kissed him. She traced the boundaries of his lips with a lazy lick, then dipped in to tag his tongue. Seconds stretched into minutes as he danced with her that way. Oral swing. Or maybe flamenco. Greedy.

“More.”

His thoughts exactly. “More.” He reached for the pipe. Wait, was he supposed to be moving? He tested his hips with a thrust forward. Kea groaned under him. Still working.

Blake smiled. Lit the pipe. Inhaled the magic ganja that had transformed his life in a matter of minutes. His lips hovered above hers. She opened her mouth, worked it like a fish on land, in desperate need of water, and clamped herself to every corresponding body part as if she’d die without him. Lips sealed tight. Smoke purged. Out of him, into her. Like climaxing. Except he hadn’t come inside her. Had he?

“You ever been in love, Kea?” He ran his knuckles across the fine bone of her cheek.

She snared his legs with hers and used leverage to flip him on to his back. “I don’t do love. My mother says it hurts.” She squeezed her thighs around him and twisted, choking his dick to the brink of pain.

He winced. “Your mother’s right. Damn, woman. I’ll bet you can do some mean-ass squats.”

She laughed and unclenched her legs, then dropped her mouth to his again. “You don’t love me. You love the
idea
of me. The power I hold over you. The strain I put on your shorts when I walk into the room.” She drew away, and her eyes clouded to a muted green. “You love Pele.”

“What if I do? What’s wrong with loving a goddess? You deserve a devoted worshipper like me. I can satisfy your appetites. Even the darker ones.” He pulled out, slapped his cock against her a few times, and stuffed it back in.

She relaxed into him. “You do have many talents. Shame to waste them, but right now, I want it soft. Can you do that for me, Blake?” Her breath caressed the whiskers on his cheek. His about-to-pop balls tightened further in reply. “Give it to me like it’s our last time together. A goodbye love-making session instead of a fuck-me-like-you-hate-me for the road.”

“I love you, baby.” He did not. But he liked her. A lot. Good thing he planned to destroy her tomorrow, or she might’ve talked him into it.

She sat back on her haunches and stopped all motion. Her drug-hazed eyes sharpened for a second and sliced through him. The edges of her feminine shadow across his bare skin expanded. “Show me,” came her soft demand.

It was hard to tell in his pot-addled state whether she believed him, but it didn’t matter. He just had to trick her into thinking he meant no harm. Lure the black widow away from her web and into a Venus flytrap, then slam the jaws shut when she thought she was safe.

Sitting up to meet her, he skimmed his mouth along her neck and licked a lazy trail down to her breasts. Her fingers danced down his spine as she rode him, setting his skin alight with streams of lava-laced lust. Hips thrust in time to the same rhythm, slow and sultry, like swings on a playground, in and out, faster on the way down, slower on the way up.

Everywhere their skin touched, he burned. Sweat mingled. Breaths intersected. Heartbeats raced against each other, the winner unclear. But when he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and gazed up at her studying him with subdued awe and raw curiosity, his pulse tripped, and he fell out of rhythm.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Kea.” Double entendre if there ever was one.

Her reticent smile bloomed. “Yes. You’re fucking me. And I like it.”

“I wanna come inside you.” Some driving, primitive need to mark her as his? Or maybe just his inner pervert making an appearance? She could take her pick.

She shook her head with a drunken roll left and right. “You can only do that when you fall in love.” With one hand, she grabbed his cheeks and squeezed his mouth. “True love, Blake. Not this fake bullshit you’re peddling.” She humped him harder. His balls clenched.

“I’m gonna come.”

“Say the words or pull the fuck out.” She leaned into his lips, teased the air above them with her proximity, and wrangled his cock with her hips too hard, too fast.

He stared into her soul. “I love you.”

She dismounted just as he let go and greeted the lie with a hard slap to the balls. “Damn it, bitch …” He came, but she’d muddled the pleasure with pain. Streams of white shot across his stomach. The release was welcome. The mindfuck wasn’t.

Kea stood beside the bed, watching with cold, detached interest as he flailed, huffed, and grunted like a frustrated schoolboy. Humiliation coursed through him in the final throes of the release, tainting the moment, and putting him in his place at Pele’s feet. She might as well have roped a leash around his neck and shoved his face in dog shit.

When he caught his breath, he demanded, “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because you’re a goddamn liar. You don’t love me any more than I love you.” Her shadow absorbed the light around her.

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

Fury blazed a path from his chest to his arms, invigorating his muscles with super strength. He bounded off the mattress, snatched Kea up, and threw her on the bed so hard, she almost bounced off.

“Spread those legs, bitch.”

Challenge sizzled through her huge black pupils, nearly snuffing out all that beautiful green. “No.”

When she refused to cooperate, he splayed her legs himself and dove in face-first. Merciless, relentless, and high as a cloud, he tongue-fucked her in a stormy frenzy. She bucked under his lips, wielded her pussy like a hammer, and slammed him in the mouth with quick pelvic punches. His teeth snagged his bottom lip and flattened it. That would leave a bruise for sure.

She writhed, rocking her hips, tightening her thighs around his ears to the brink of suffocating him, smothering him in her essence. Fingers grasped his hair, holding him in place as his wildly thrusting tongue finished her off. A low, throaty moan poured out of her. After a short eternity, she shoved his head away and rolled over, gasping.

Motion near the screen door caught his attention. A butterfly trying to get inside. Pretty.

Pleased with himself, Blake wiped his mouth and crawled behind her, curling his body around hers. Arms encircled her waist. His sated cock settled into a state of blissful repose. The fluttering pulse testing the elasticity of his blood vessels slowed. The marijuana overloaded his brain with a hard focus on his sense of touch. He felt every subtle line embedded in Kea’s skin, every burden of her tiny hairs on his follicles, every whisper of intersecting boundaries he couldn’t cross.

He kissed the hollow behind her earlobe. “Now do you believe me?” The set-up triggered an ache in his chest that could only be lessened by the truth he wouldn’t speak.

Rolling over to face him, she tossed a hand to his shoulder. A hint of white teeth peeked through her lips, and her eyes dulled behind half-closed lids. “Believe what?”

“That I love you.” He forced himself not to swallow. Swallowing was one of his tells, and he couldn’t afford to screw this up. Kea knew where the pot farm was. He had to convince her she could trust him.

She licked her lips. “I believe you’re high, and you love everybody at the moment.”

Leaning close, he slipped into acting mode, flipped all the right switches, and assumed the guise of a love-drunk, foppish prick. Once the spotlight dressed him in a bold sheen of shiny bullshit, he said, “No, Kea. I do love you. Totally. Completely. In love.” And he sealed his false promise with a kiss that made him rethink the validity of his claim.