The book follows lovers on a tropical pleasure resort. A fun trope, and it leads to some sexy hijinks one could only get away with in fiction, or in a sex resort. :) Club Med on Spanish Fly.
The story follows a threesome. A woman who think she's too plain to snag a man. A rich playboy tired of the same old, same old. And a repressed ex cop who knows what he needs but is afraid to reach out for it.
Here's a short blur and excerpt for you. Happy Wednesday!
“You awake and
playing possum?” The deep, gravelly -- what Rick used to think of as sexy --
voice sounded amused.
Trevor Jackson,
that traitorous bastard. Not that Rick wasn’t into his fair share of kink, but
he hadn’t okayed being drugged and kidnapped to God knew where. The blindfold
didn’t help matters, but Rick’s sensitive nose identified the natural
bougainvillea that surrounded his resort. He had to be somewhere close to Satyr’s
Myst. Somewhere close, and at night or in a darkened room, because the absence
of light through the blindfold made it even more difficult to see.
Rick swore,
earning a husky laugh from Trevor. What
is it about me that draws such deceitful people? Two months ago he’d
started receiving death threats from some religious zealot demonizing both his
bisexual lifestyle and his ownership of Satyr’s Myst, which was supposed to be a secluded, private
pleasure resort. Two and a half years ago, the woman he’d thought was The One
had walked out of his life, apparently not as comfortable with his lifestyle as
she’d let on. And three years ago, Jaz, Rick’s ex-lover, a man he’d trusted
with his body and his life, had nearly killed him for a priceless antique.
You’d think by now I’d have learned my lesson. Yet the bitter taste of betrayal still
stung. Apparently, Rick’s position as “king of the island” wasn’t enough to
prevent the dickheads of the world from taking advantage. So he would need to
use his most valuable asset -- his brain -- to save his ass.
What was Trevor’s
game? That remained the million-dollar question. Whatever the criminal had used
to doctor Rick’s drink left one helluva hangover, and Rick could only pray he
lived long enough to return the aching favor.
“Damn, Rick. It’s
been eight hours already. Wake up.”
A not-so-gentle
poke jarred his side, and he turned his face away onto…silk sheets?
“Hell. Might as
well get it over with.” Trevor sighed, and in seconds, Rick blinked into the
dim confines of his own bedroom. He glanced around. No, not his bedroom in the
resort, but at his private retreat on the other side of the island. A retreat
no one but a select few of his staff knew about.
“Who the hell
helped you?”
Trevor rocked
back on his heels, his impressive build impossible to ignore, no matter how
much Rick wanted to. Giant biceps flexed as he crossed his arms over a broad,
bare chest, leading Rick’s gaze up past the powerful shoulders and thick neck
to his captor’s captivating face. The dark brown of Trevor’s closely cropped
hair only accentuated the golden tan of his skin and made his brown eyes
glisten like fine chocolate. He still wore the knee-length tan shorts he’d been
wearing when they’d first met and he’d surprised Rick with a flirtatious suggestion
but was now shoeless. Apparently, he’d made himself right at home.
For the life of
him, Rick didn’t know why Trevor looked so familiar. He’d never seen the man
before and knew it had to be the feeling of recognition that had let him lower
his guards to such a degree. Then again, who could have guessed this latest
visitor would turn out to be a kidnapper? He’d have to start screening his
guests personally again. He sure the hell didn’t want to go through this again.
Not a slug by any
means, Rick had the height but not the brawn to meet Trevor in a hand-to-hand
fight, especially not with a bum shoulder weighing him down. So he needed to
figure out a way out of here, if he could hold onto his temper long enough.
“You okay?”
Trevor’s voice roughened with concern, but when he leaned down to touch Rick’s
shoulder, Rick swore and scooted back in spite of the ache in his joint.
“Who helped you?”
Trevor sighed. “I
knew you were going to be a huge pain in the ass. Any normal guy would be
asking, ‘Why are you doing this?’ or ‘What do you want?’”
“Answer the f*cking
question.”
“I was hired by
an outside source. And if you must know, Tyrone’s been a huge help.”
“No way. I don’t
believe you.” Tyrone had been with Rick since the resort’s inception. He was
one of the few blatantly honest people in Rick’s life. From the get-go, Tyrone
had been up front. He cared more about sex than money, and as long as Rick
provided him with the resources to sate his needs, Tyrone epitomized the ideal
employee, both loyal and able to handle anything thrown at him. After their
first year on the island, their relationship had moved from employer and
employee to that of good, solid friends. And Rick liked to think that their
platonic relationship had made such a companionship possible. No sex and
emotional baggage between them to muddy the waters.
“There’s no way
Tyrone would help you.”
“Believe whatever
you want.” Trevor shrugged. “Now, you want to lay back and relax so I can fix
your cuffs? I didn’t realize you were in pain, or I would’ve tied you in front.
Looks like you’re favoring that left shoulder, hmm?”
“F*ck off.”
Trevor had the
gall to laugh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled something under his
breath Rick couldn’t quite make out.
“What did you
say?”
“They warned me
about you…” Trevor stared at him, and Rick wondered what he saw when he looked
at him.
Rick had never
lacked for companionship. In addition to the wealth he inherited, his blond
hair and blue eyes, coupled with a tall, athletic build, put him in good stead
with potential lovers. And he’d been told on more than one occasion that there
was “just something about him” that screamed sexy.
Trevor, however,
didn’t seem overwhelmed by Rick’s presence, or he wouldn’t be holding Rick
against his will.
“You going to
ransom me?”
“Nope.” Trevor
grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the bed. He sat staring at Rick, to the
point of making Rick, who didn’t know the meaning of the word self-conscious,
uncomfortable.
“What?”
“You know,
there’s just something about you.”
Rick rolled his
eyes and, to his surprise, pulled a grin from the rough man across from him.
Something about the action pulled at his memory…
“Relax, Rick.
We’re going to spend a couple of harmless days together, safe and sound. Then
I’m going home, and you’ll go right back to work doing…whatever it is that you
do.”
The suggestive
tone set Rick’s teeth on edge, though he didn’t know why. He’d never been
ashamed of running a resort catering to sexual pleasure. Nor had he regrets
about his choice of lovers… Jaz “the traitor” and Elise “the heartbreaker”
notwithstanding. But the speculative look on Trevor’s face seemed disapproving.
And this from a man with no compunction about kidnapping.
“You know
something, Trevor Jackson, or whatever-the-hell your name is? I don’t really
care what you think about me or this island. I sure as hell wouldn’t have
welcomed you here if I’d known this is what you’re about.” Rick gave him that
polite sneer that he’d honed over a lifetime. And like those he normally
aggravated with the expression, Trevor frowned in reaction.
“You don’t know
what I’m about.”
“Oh, but I do.”
If Rick was good at one thing, it was reading desire. “You’re a repressed *sshole
who can’t understand why he likes d*ck when all his buddies drone on and on
about ‘those f*cking f*gs.’ You’ve probably had to hide your desires your
entire life.” A direct hit. Trevor was no longer frowning but scowling like a
thundercloud. When he would have interrupted, Rick spoke over him. As stupid as
it was to antagonize his captor while bound, it was too satisfying to pass up.
“You’re big, and
you obviously work out. You’re into something physical. Ex-military or an
ex-cop, I’d bet. And you pretty much do whatever you please. But you can’t make
yourself act on what you really want. Because you’re scared.”
“Look, Hastings
--”
“Scared of what
you might feel, and scared of what others will say when they know you like
men.”
Trevor’s face
reddened, yet the flush only made him that much more appealing, much to Rick’s
chagrin. To cover his unwanted attraction, he continued in the same icy vein.
“It’s too bad you’re such a prude.” Rick gave him a clinical perusal. “You’re
obviously good-looking. Large, muscular. Probably have a huge c**k. But you’re
so repressed, it would be difficult to bring that fire --”
Cut off by the
giant male now covering him like a blanket, Rick whooshed out a breath, only to
have Trevor suck it in with his hard mouth.
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