© 2012 Titania Ladley
Note: Karibu Heat is a
standalone follow-up to
Kabana Heat; it can be read first
or last. It introduces the unlikely love story of two of
Kabana Heat's secondary characters,
Jager Manning and Anjelee Montrose. Sparks flew between them in
Kabana Heat, but later, on the
nude-only naughty island with Karibu Resort's antics, those sparks ignite into
an all-out explosive menage relationship. Sultry, scorching and forgotten
inhibitions...you have been warned. :)
An Excerpt From:
Copyright © TITANIA LADLEY, 2012
All Rights Reserved
Manning stepped from the resort’s boardwalk onto the nude-pool deck, his jaw
clenched. Despite the breeze whipping in off the Caribbean Sea, perspiration
coated his forehead. His nostrils flared with his rapid breathing. But he didn’t
give a devil’s damn if he looked like a hissing cobra prepared to strike. He
would find her, and he would tear her apart with fangs of lethal venom if it was
the last thing he ever did on this earth.
curled into tight fists. No, make that, he would find
her and he would kill her with his bare fucking hands.
the stone structure of the outdoor restrooms that divided the au natural area of
the resort from the clothing-optional section. A tinkling waterfall tumbled
behind the building into crisp blue waters of a huge figure-eight-shaped
swimming pool. His gaze briefly touched on each of a dozen naked people at the
far end whooping and squealing during a game of pool volleyball, but none of
them were her.
could never mistake anyone else for her.
want anyone else.
breasts of all shapes and lovely sizes floated and bobbed in the water, but it
didn’t faze him. Hell no. He was on a mission and not to be sidetracked, even by
droves of hot, buck-naked chicks.
He darted a
look at the swim-up bar-and-grill to his right. A thin Jamaican man in a bright
red floral shirt and black shorts stood behind the grill whistling and flipping
burgers. Jager’s stomach growled. His flight had only included a snack, so it’d
been over seven hours since he’d last eaten anything of substance, yet even the
enticing sizzle and meaty aroma couldn’t detour him from his course.
that scheming, thieving bitch, Anjelee Montrose, and throttle her from here to
the goddamn moon.
searching stare shifted to the buxom female bartender as she slid a pinŕ colada
across the tiled bar toward a buff, tattooed male. Reggae music blared from the
overhead speakers. At the man’s good-natured, overtly sexual thanks, the
bartender threw her head back and laughed. She gyrated her voluptuous hips to
the catchy island tune and flung her long dreds over a chocolate-toned shoulder.
skimmed a quick look across the pool in the direction of an accented female
voice typical of those residing on the small island of Karibu just off Jamaica’s
green.” One of the resort’s entertainment emcees held a colorful cardboard
spinner in her hand and a microphone in the other. She glanced toward a group of
bodies entwined on the plastic, dotted game board opposite the pool deck from
where Jager stood. There was no mistaking the game.
took hungry inventory. He searched for Anjelee amid the tangle of male and
female limbs, asses, tits and dangling cocks and scrotums.
Then he saw
her. Her husky laughter and pale-blonde, pink-striped hair positively I.D.’d
Anjelee. Her toe-touch position caused her long locks to drape over the rear of
another equally blonde woman, but it was the sight of that tight little bare
rump sticking up in the air that had him stalking around the pool’s perimeter.
His carotid pulse beat high in his neck, whooshing up to echo like a bongo drum
in his head. He didn’t take his eyes off of her even as he weaved his way around
lounge chairs, beach bags and couples engaging in varying displays of affection.
there you go, baby.” At the nearby male voice, Jager glanced downward toward
three people in a clench near the pool’s waterfall. The woman moaned while being
sandwiched between two men.
make that displays of all-out sex.
dark-skinned, attractive woman in a security uniform emerged out of nowhere and
trailed close on Jager’s heels. “Excuse me, mon, but you can’t—”
He held up
a hand and cut off the voice of apparent authority.
no one could stop him at this point. He couldn’t wait to curl his fingers around
Anjelee’s smooth neck, to drag her kicking and screaming back to the States. He
longed to watch as the prison bars slammed shut in front of her impish little
stunned face. Her green cat-eyes would snap with fury while he laughed his ass
off at the spoiled little fit she’d no doubt throw once she realized she’d
finally been caught.
neared, keeping his gaze trained on her upthrust rear. His mouth watered
involuntarily. “Uh-uh, don’t look, you fool,” he mumbled to himself. “No matter
how good she looks, she’s not going to distract you from getting even and
getting justice for Mitch.”
directly behind her and raked his stare over the tanned arch of her spine, down
along the tight buttocks and shapely legs. Against his will, his eyes riveted
back up and zeroed in on the moist slit glistening in the sun.
Christ, help him.
red,” the emcee ordered.
shit.” Anjelee let out a giggle of delightful protest, but she twisted
obediently into a crabwalk pose.
the endless beat for her to look up and spy him.
her eyes met his. It delighted the hell out of him when her pupils focused on
him in recognition. She blinked, and her tanned, heart-shaped face scrunched
momentarily, her stunning eyes widening with astonishment.
braced himself for the electricity of her bright green gaze. Once the power of
it leveled out and dissipated in his system, he inhaled and crossed his arms.
“Hello there, Anjelee.”
What are you doing here?” She clamped her thighs shut, but not before he got a
full-on view of her shaven pussy lips and the pierced hood above her clitoris.
Unbelievable. Either there was a God, or Satan lived on in her. The woman exuded
pure sexuality. Naughty as sin.
you think I should be asking you that question?”
gymnast’s grace, she vaulted up to a standing position. Her left arm covered her
small but full breasts. He considered that ironic given she vacationed at a nude
resort and had just been practically spread-eagled for the whole island to
devour, yet she played coy when his gaze was on her.
So the fuck
what? He didn’t give one shit. He’d just as soon choke her than get a free
visual tour of her tight little body.
though, seemed to have a brain of its own. It dropped to her suntanned, smooth
labia. It was with that delicious image filling his mind that Anjelee slapped
her other hand between her legs and growled in outrage. She cupped her mound in
such a modest way it made Jager snort. But goddamn if he didn’t long to yank her
into his arms and kiss her silly while running his fingertips down between her—
you stupid fucker. She’s the enemy, a lying, thieving sneak who’ll
single-handedly ruin your entire career if you don’t get a grip. Besides, she’s
not really your type.
up all the various women he’d had relationships with in the past—lawyers,
models, movie stars, real estate investors, even a hot young female minister.
Anjelee’s definitely not his type.
trembled with rage. She smacked her hands onto her petite hips and ground out
through clenched, perfect white teeth, “You creepy, spying jerk. You followed
He had to
shake the fog from his head in order to shift his gaze from her beautiful pussy,
which she’d just bared again, to her flaming eyes. “Well, you didn’t exactly
join the Witness Protection Program, now did you?”
out her pierced tongue. “Funny. No, I didn’t.”
know. The P.I. I hired came pretty cheap since he was able to follow your
blatant electronic trail in a matter of minutes. Your name, in connection with
Jamaica and this hedonistic Karibu resort you decided to spend all of Mitch’s
money at, drew a lot of database hits in spite of your lame effort to rename
yourself. Bam.” He mimicked punching a computer-keyboard button. “‘There
she is,’ the P.I. says. So naturally, here I am.”
“Naturally?” Her plump lips curled up in a snarl. Her gaze raked him with sharp
blades of distain. “Um, for one thing, you’re unnatural in that, besides
the staff, you’re the only one here with clothes on. And for another thing, a
man following a woman he barely knows halfway across the world is anything
but natural. In fact, it’s a bit stalker-ish.”
a surge of temper and leaned closer. The coconut scent of her tanning lotion
filled the narrow space between them. “Stalker-ish? Ya think? Huh, and that
coming from a member of the oh-so non-stalker-ish paparazzi who trespassed,
climbed up on a fucking rooftop, took intimate, unauthorized pictures of…some
people, and then blackmailed those very people. Yeah, that’s non-stalker-ish if
I’ve ever seen it. By the way, if you had any geography smarts at all, you’d
know it’s not halfway across the world from L.A. to here.”
concede.” He disregarded her childish retort and bent in closer still, trying
like hell not to drown in the big pools of her eyes or the warmth of her body.
“You’re damn right I’m stalking you. In fact, I’m going to stalk you all the way
to goddamn prison.”
her pretty little mouth forming an O of indignation. “Prison?”
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