Private Party (11 page)

“I forgot my sunscreen back in my villa.” She took another sip of her drink.

Kara gave her a challenging look and tossed a bottle into Julie’s lap. Startled, Julie sloshed her drink onto her stomach. “It’s SPF 45.”

Something in Kara’s attitude rankled Julie, as though she could see through the breezy, fun-loving façade Julie was trying to put up, and knew that underneath she was so boring Kara would never bother speaking with her. Or maybe it was the way Kara had practically draped her boobs over Chris’s arm last night at the cocktail party.

Whatever it was, after another fortifying drink of her Long Island iced tea, Julie took a deep breath, and PrivateParty

untied the top of her bright coral bikini. The two small triangles covering her breasts immediately fell.

Julie resisted the urge to cover herself, and instead reached around her back and untied the other string.

Immediately she felt her nipples pucker as the warm breeze brushed her skin. She quickly applied a generous coating of sunscreen and looked around sheepishly.

Jen laughed. “No one’s looking,” she said as she took the tube of sunscreen from Julie and applied it to her own breasts. Julie looked around. Sure enough, the software CEO was engrossed in the
Wall Street
Journal
, oblivious to the breast fest.

Julie picked up her book, a thick historical featuring a brawny Highlander. What would Chris look like in a kilt, she wondered with a smile.

Her composure slipped a notch when she saw the cocktail waiter heading their way again. Unlike the other women, she just didn’t have it in her to lie there on her back as though nothing was amiss. As casually as possible, Julie adjusted the back of her lounger so it lay flat, and flipped over onto her stomach.

“Jules, you want another?”

She knew she shouldn’t. But then neither should she be exposing the virgin skin of her breasts to sun damage. What the hell.

“I will, but this time make it a banana daiquiri.” True, it was the sort of sissy drink she’d been determined to avoid, but after two Long Island iced teas she was about to do a face plant in the sand.

She didn’t realize the error of her ways until a few sips into the daiquiri. Here in the Virgin Islands, as well as in most of the Caribbean, the rum in a drink was cheaper than the mixer. In order to save money, bartenders were often overly generous with the rum. She remembered that she forgot to ask for a mainland pour.

But where was the harm,
she thought as the words of her paperback started to swim together. She was on vacation after all.

The beach café wasn’t crowded yet. Only a few tables were occupied, since most guests were either enjoying one of the many beaches, the pool, or on diving or snorkeling excursions.

While Carla waited for their lunch orders, Chris wandered out onto the front deck of the café, which overlooked the resort’s main beach. It, too, was fairly empty, as were most of the lounge chairs.

PrivateParty

What he wouldn’t give to have an hour to flop down and just stare out at the calming turquoise water.

But that was the blessing and the curse of running a place like this. Chris lived in one of the most beautiful places on earth, but he had less and less time to enjoy it.

Chris watched a waiter as he scurried across the sand with a tray full of drinks. His gaze wandered over to the group the waiter was serving, and his breath caught.

It was a group of women—Amy and her bachelorette party. And on the lounge chair closest to him lay Julie.

Even though she was on her stomach, he could tell it was her. He recognized her profile as she propped herself up, and accepted her drink from the waiter. Her curly blond hair was caught up haphazardly in a clip, with damp tendrils coiling along her nape. The skin of her back gleamed gold in the bright sun, and he felt a rush of heat to his groin as his gaze traveled lower.

From his vantage point, he had a spectacular view of her ass, barely covered by the shiny coral fabric of her bikini. He’d always loved Julie’s ass. Not fat, as she always called it, but mouthwateringly round.

And—as he knew from firsthand experience—perfectly firm and smooth to the touch. He felt his fingers twitch as he imagined untying the string ties that held up the bikini bottoms and peeling away the fabric to reveal…

“Whoa, I hope they’re wearing sunscreen.”

Carla’s voice startled him out of his daydream.

“What?” He said vaguely.

“Getting your boobs sunburned is just really painful,” Carla said.

He wrinkled his brow and looked again at the group. Sure enough, all four of Julie’s new friends were topless. And he hadn’t even noticed. Topless sunbathing wasn’t exactly a rarity at Holley Cay, but Chris was a man. Just because he saw bare breasts on the beach all the time didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them.

But what the hell was wrong with him that he was so mesmerized by Julie’s bikini clad ass that he didn’t even notice four—and now that he looked, he noticed four very nice—pairs of bare breasts less than ten yards away from him?

This was getting ridiculous.

Just then, Julie flipped over, and Chris groaned. Of course, she was topless, too. Even as he scolded himself for ogling, he couldn’t have stopped staring if someone held a gun to his head. Her breasts PrivateParty

weren’t the biggest of the group—Kara had that honor, he admitted objectively. But Julie’s breasts were definitely the most appealing. Soft, creamy-skinned, with hard pink nipples that were pointing up at the clear blue sky. His mouth watered at the thought of tracing them with his tongue.

“Do you want a napkin?”

“A what?” Chris turned to Carla, who rolled her eyes at him.

“For the drool that’s about to drip off your chin.”

“Is our food ready yet?” He needed to get out of here. He started to walk back inside, but it was too late.

“Chris! Hey Chris!” Kara had spotted him on the deck and was now waving enthusiastically enough to send her D-cups bobbling.

He waved feebly and made to turn back inside.

“Come have a drink with us,” Kara called. All the others, except Julie, he noted, joined in with an invitation.

“You better go on.” He wanted to slap the smirk off of Carla’s face. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your reputation as the ever accommodating host.” Carla turned and walked into the café.

Chris frowned but started toward the steps that led to the beach. How crazy was it that he was being invited to join five topless women and he felt like he would rather be standing in line at the DMV?

Reluctantly he pulled up a chair next to Julie’s and did his best not to just stare at her like a complete letch. Under Julie’s tan, her skin was flushed from the heat, and a faint sheen of perspiration glowed in the valley between her breasts.

In an attempt to distract himself from the urge to run his tongue along her damp skin, he found himself staring at her belly-button ring, the little diamond peeking out at him as it sparkled in the sun. Body jewelry, when taken too far, was a personal turn off for him. But Chris had always been a sucker for a belly-button ring, and the fact that it was Julie’s navel made it all the more appealing.

“You know, if someone had told me that one day Julie Driscoll would have her navel pierced and would be sunbathing topless on a public beach, I would have thought they were insane.” Julie smiled, her eyes hidden by those purple tinted glasses. “Sometimes a girl has to shake things up a bit, you know, keep things interesting.”

PrivateParty

She took a sip of her daiquiri, but ruined her casual demeanor when the umbrella poked her in the cheek.

He forced his gaze away from Julie and focused on Amy and Kara’s conversation. Judging from their own giggling and their voices just on the verge of being too loud, the women had spent the better part of the morning boozing under the sun.

“We’re not busted or anything, are we?” Amy asked suddenly, “I mean for being topless? We saw what’s-her-face—” Amy gestured sloppily to the woman down the beach, whose preternaturally perky boobs were sticking straight up like traffic cones, “and we figured it must be fine.” Chris forced a smile. “It’s no problem with me.” That was true when it came to the other women. But his fingers itched to wrap Julie’s towel around her and secure it tightly. Maybe with duct tape. He supposed he should be grateful that there wasn’t anyone else around to see her. The only other guy on the beach seemed more interested in monitoring his stock portfolio, and the staff at the beach café had seen so much in their time at Holley Cay that bare breasts were about as shocking as bare feet.

Up until about ten minutes ago, Chris would have sworn he’d felt the same way.

He glanced at Julie, who drained her daiquiri and waved the waiter over.

Chris caught her wrist in one hand. “Don’t you think you should slow down?”

“What are you, my dad?” Julie snapped.

“Don’t be a party pooper, Chris,” Jen said. “Get yourself a drink, too.” Chris obligingly ordered a beer, and when Julie ordered another daiquiri, Chris cut in, “And make sure it’s a mainland.”

Julie sat up indignantly, and her breasts jiggled in a way that made his head spin. “You don’t have to look out for me, Chris. It’s not like I’m eighteen anymore.”

“You’re sure as hell acting like it,” he snapped back.

Suddenly he realized that all conversation had stopped, and five bare-breasted women were staring at him in astonishment. Way to go. Way to make your guests feel comfortable and relaxed. But before he could backpedal and diffuse the situation, he saw something over Kara’s shoulder that caused a knot to form in the pit of his stomach.

The diver boys were back from their excursion, and all four were heading their way.

PrivateParty

8

C
hris didn’t care how bad it looked, but there was no way he was going to let Mike and company get a look at Julie on display. With no preamble, he stood up, grabbed Julie’s cover-up in one hand and her arm in the other.

“We need to talk,” he said, jerking her to her feet.

She staggered against him, and Chris let out a hiss as her breasts made contact with his forearm. He needed to get her clothed, and fast. He thrust her cover-up at her. “Put this on.” The other four women were just staring at him.

Julie ignored the cover-up and let it drop to the sand.

“Let go of me,” she said. She tried to pull away, but Chris had his grip locked firmly on her forearm.

“What is your problem?” She jerked again, then staggered as she lost her footing. Chris stumbled as he took the full impact of her weight, but he managed to pull her up before they both fell.

“Oh, hey, Mike, hey, guys.” Julie’s attention was caught by the sight of the four guys walking up the beach, and she waved with her free arm. All four men were wearing sunglasses, but the shades couldn’t hide the leering cast that came over all four smiles when they saw that the women were topless.

Jealousy twisted Chris’s gut. He knew he shouldn’t care. He had no claim on Julie. It shouldn’t matter to him if she wanted to show her breasts to the world, but he couldn’t stop the primitive, territorial urge PrivateParty

that flared as these men lusted after a body he considered his.

No, she’s not yours, never was, never will be. And a reaction like this is prime example of why you need
to stay far, far away from her.
Nevertheless, Chris couldn’t sit idly by and let four other men ogle Julie.

So he bent down, and, ignoring her shriek, caught her around the legs and threw her over his shoulder.

One arm wrapped firmly around her thighs, he motioned for Amy to hand him Julie’s cover-up and beach bag.

“Put me down, you ass,” Julie yelled, pounding her fist into his back as he started down the path that led to her villa.

Chris smacked her firmly on her butt, then couldn’t resist curling his palm around her buttock for a firm squeeze.

“Are you copping a feel?”

“Shut up, do you want everyone to hear us?” he scolded.

“I don’t care who hears us, you’re the one carrying off one of your guests like some Neanderthal. I’m sure that will go over really well.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s drunk before noon and running around with her top off.” Chris turned the corner.

“I’m not drunk.”

Chris snorted.

“I’m not. And as for being topless, I didn’t hear you complain about any of the others. Oof.” Chris jostled her as he hunted through her bag for her key.

“What makes my breasts so particularly offensive?”

He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the villa. He passed through the kitchenette and the sitting room into the bedroom, where he unceremoniously flung Julie onto the king-size mattress. He threw her cover-up at her, but she ignored it as it slid down her body to fall to the floor.

“Brian always thought they were too small,” she said, looking down at her naked chest.

She was still talking about her breasts. Chris almost moaned in frustration.

PrivateParty

“Do you think I need implants?”

Chris swallowed hard in an attempt to get some moisture into a mouth gone suddenly bone-dry. She was screwing with him, right? But when he looked at her face, he saw that in her own tipsy way she was sincerely concerned. Her brow furrowed as she propped up on her elbows and tucked her chin for a better look.

“I think your breasts are perfect,” Chris said finally, and the look of happiness that crossed her face was nearly enough to send him to his knees. How had he landed himself back in this situation, alone with a mostly naked Julie Driscoll, wanting her so much his cock was on the verge of bursting through his fly but knowing beyond a doubt that he should do absolutely nothing about it?

“Really?” Julie pressed.

Oh, God, she had to stop talking about her breasts and get some clothes on or he was going to go insane.

He tried to look away, but even the smell of her, all warm skin and coconut-scented sunscreen, was enough make his groin tighten. “To quote one of our favorite movies, ‘there is a shortage of perfect breasts in the world, and it would be a shame to lose yours.’” Her smile brightened, if that was possible. “
Princess Bride
. I haven’t seen that in years.”