Tantalize Me

Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2020 Tina Donahue

ISBN: 978-0-3695-0193-6

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To lovers everywhere who embrace unexpected destinies.

TANTALIZE ME

Wanna Be Bad, 3

Tina Donahue

Copyright © 2020

Chapter One

The day promised sun, sand, and naked guys. Warmth poured through Olivia Bisset, tightening her nipples and dampening her pussy.

Damn, she loved living at and working for Encounters—a lush and hedonistic Caribbean resort, especially during the anything goes weeks. Then, the plush grounds turned truly magical where nudity ruled and threesomes or more rocked, while kink in every flavor sated the most carnal appetite.

Her insides fluttered.

In the past months, she’d gorged to her heart’s content on Cravings Island, the sister property to this one where wanton delights occurred twenty-four seven. Good times for a twenty-six-year-old who sought physical pleasure from guys, not hopeless forever-after fantasies that led to emotional pain. She’d seen enough of that during her impoverished background in the States and sought something better. A life where she, not any man or men, called the shots.

Which she’d do as soon as she finished her wait shift at Indulgence, a premier restaurant. Beyond these walls was male eye candy that deserved serious ogling. Until then…

Her fellow servers formed an impenetrable barrier at the artfully concealed kitchen door, the young women eyeing the dining area, its sumptuous foliage a veritable Garden of Eden.

Olivia joined them. Let me guess. A guest forgot the rules don’t allow nudity in here, and he’s hung like a blue whale?

Kristen, a coworker, grinned lewdly. I’ll bet they both are.

Hmm. Both?

Yeah. She inclined her head to the left.

Olivia’s curiosity battled against her reluctance to look. If the dudes were hung and hot, but into each other, she didn’t want to yearn fruitlessly for their sun-kissed muscles this early in her day. Are they holding hands?

Those nearest to her made faces.

She took their reactions as a resounding no and craned her neck to catch the dynamic duo. Her pulse ticked up.

The guy on the right wore his black hair longish and combed back, his beard and mustache neatly trimmed. His white linen shirt and pants draped his powerful frame, enhancing his masculinity. Early thirties or so, he had classic good looks, like a Greek god.

Her knees got watery.

Next to him stood another man, also early thirties, and as tall. She would have bet her life, six-three or more. His broad shoulders went from here to tomorrow, his bod muscled and lean. Tousled light-brown hair crowned his All American features that could have graced countless print ads for sporting equipment. Like his companion, he wore a white linen shirt, but pants in pale blue. Different from yesterday.

It’s them.

Her throat constricted.

On her trek back to her apartment after her last work shift, she’d come upon them striding from the opposite direction. Her step had paused briefly and so had theirs. For a second, time stopped … at least for her. In the island’s dreamlike atmosphere, where sun rained down on them and a gentle breeze ruffled their hair and clothes, they’d seemed to have emerged from a welcomed erotic fantasy.

Once they’d passed, she’d twisted to keep watching, enjoying the show. They’d glanced over their shoulders at her, despite naked women strolling by.

Now they were here, taking their seats and shaking their heads at Theo, the male server whose section the hostess had put them in. His bright smile wilted.

That’s not a good sign. Kristen bumped against Olivia in her quest to see better. Is Theo pissing them off? He’d better not be, considering.

Sounded serious. Considering what?

They’re VIPs.

No way could Olivia argue the point. Looks-wise, impressive didn’t begin to address their assets. They’re male models? Film stars or TV personalities? Sports legends? In her book, they could have won any game on sheer size and presence alone.

Huh? Kristen pushed to her toes to see past the others then stilled. What is Theo doing?

He’d faced his fellow servers rather than the guests. Mr. Greek God pointed at the now-silent women and said something Olivia couldn’t catch from this distance.

Whatever it was sent Theo padding in their direction, the loincloth uniform he wore flapping against his beefy thighs.

Shit. Kristen huffed. Show’s over. Back to the grind.

This place hardly constituted the salt mines, but she had a point. Important guests didn’t enjoy the plebs gawking at them, preferring to relax in anonymity. In full agreement, Olivia retreated several steps.

Theo cut through the others, following her. Hold on.

She bumped against a long wooden table, which gave her no choice except to stop. Why?

They want you.

Everyone’s gazes slid to her.

Not understanding, she shook her head, her long cornrows gliding across her chest and back. Who does?

"Those guys. They want you."

A strong word she didn’t understand in the context he used. Excuse me?

Theo scratched his naked chest. Better not keep them waiting. They’re VIPs.

So she’d heard but didn’t budge. It’s your section. Your tip. I can’t take that from you.

They said they’ve already cleared things with Ben and Dominic.

B and D ran the kitchen, Ben executing stellar dishes as the head chef, and Dominic, his cousin, creating mouth-watering pastries. They bustled at their respective stations, avoiding her gaze.

Go on. Kristen nudged her. Those hotties are staring at you, you lucky dog.

Or not. Could be she was in for the lecture of her life from two disgruntled guests who hadn’t enjoyed her eyeing them yesterday and intended to warn her against such behavior in the future. Poor Kristen and the other’s turn was likely next.

Theo leaned in. No matter what they say, be nice.

She bared her teeth at him.

He patted her shoulder and rounded the table to collect the finished orders for his other customers.

Not for the first time, Olivia dreaded interacting with men who were too perfect to be real. If nothing else, her mother falling for every wrong guy in Miami had taught her caution. Looks didn’t mean shit. Wealth didn’t either. It only added to a male’s entitlement. Sure, she’d be nice, as Theo had asked, because it was her job. However, no way would she be anyone’s doormat. Jon Thorne, the resort owner, felt the same. Although richer than God, he was also decent and wouldn’t expect anyone here to grovel to a customer, no matter how awesome the world thought they were.

She sucked in a breath, slapped on her most pleasant but noncommittal face—she hoped, and approached.

Both guys shot to their feet.

She halted, not expecting the gesture.

Mr. All American Gorgeous grinned, carving dimples in his bristly cheeks. Mr. Greek God eyed her intently, but not menacingly.

Her skin tingled and her ears buzzed, similar to what she experienced during a mind-blowing orgasm. Somehow, she got her legs to work and joined them at the table. Welcome to— Her fucking voice cracked, refusing to work. Something that hadn’t happened around guys since grade school when she wised up, knowing she was as great as they were. Disappointed in herself for showing any weakness, she got her shit together and cleared her throat. Welcome to Indulgence. I’m Olivia.

The dark one nodded. Nice to meet you, Olivia. Ethan Rhodes. He offered his hand.

Never had another customer done so. Not even after she’d given them epic service. Stunned, she accepted his gesture, enjoying his warm, dry skin. His leather and tobacco scent filled her, the fragrance alluring and beyond sensual.

Her palm dampened. His didn’t.

He curled his fingers around hers, his grip firm yet gentle, his strength restrained and nowhere close to him showing off.

Her cheeks warmed. She squeezed his hand lightly, unable to resist. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rhodes.

Ethan.

This was beyond weird, but she nodded, her smile wobbling. Ethan.

The other one edged closer, delivering his crisp and refreshing scent, similar to the woods on a cool morning. She pulled in his fragrance, delighting in it.

He put out his hand. Hey, Olivia.

His grasp proved as sturdy as Ethan’s but also caressing and protective.

Heat swept over her throat and chest. Hi, Mr.…

His smile widened. Gabe Rhodes. But I insist on you calling me Gabe.

She stopped stroking his thumb. Given how their gazes kept trickling over her to linger on her low-cut crop top and abbreviated sarong, they couldn’t be gay or committed to each other. No rings. No reason for the same last name either, unless… She eased her hand from his. You’re cousins?

Ethan stepped around the table. Brothers.

Twins, Gabe said.

This couldn’t get weirder. Seriously?

Fraternal twins. Ethan pulled out the wicker chair closest to his. Sit, please.

She glanced over her shoulder. Kristen stared, as did a few other servers who’d remained at the kitchen entrance, their eyes goggled at what Ethan and Gabe were doing. Olivia still wasn’t certain what that might be. Her birthday wasn’t for months, meaning these guys couldn’t be strippers, a gift from the staff to celebrate her special day. Being punked didn’t seem likely either, unless Ashton Kutcher had renewed his TV show and was searching for new material. Excuse me?

We’d like to talk to you. Ethan glanced at her coworkers. Didn’t the other server say so?

Theo hadn’t said shit. Talk to me about what?

An idea we had for you to help us out. Right, Gabe?

He nodded.

There wasn’t any way she could help them, unless they meant her getting down and dirty with them and providing a mind-blowing orgasm. She wasn’t opposed. They were the best sexy beasts she’d seen in a long while, polite, and they didn’t appear predatory. No longer focusing on her boobs or legs, Gabe regarded her cornrows and face. Ethan kept glancing at her forehead jewelry. A design she’d created and one Shelby, Jon’s right-hand woman—and the resident fashionista—had commissioned in gold, encouraging Olivia to wear it at work today to encourage guests to buy the piece.

She sank to the chair, the thick floral cushion puffing around her. Despite the comfort it provided, her heart raced.

Ethan took his seat, his gaze riveted to her jewelry. Mind if I ask you something?

At this point, she would have given him and Gabe almost anything they wanted, as long as it wasn’t her heart. Another truth she’d learned from her mom, who’d had to raise her only child alone. Having safe and well-protected sex then cutting out sounded way better to Olivia. If this was their invitation to party, it was strange, but she wasn’t one to judge. Depends. No need to be too eager. What did you want to know?

His cheeks darkened, enhancing his bronze complexion. The piece you’re wearing. It’s Fulani, correct? Specifically, the Wodaabe tribe in Chad.

He couldn’t have surprised her more than if he’d done her on the table, Gabe joining in for a threesome. You’re into jewelry? She shook her head. I mean, you know about that stuff? Made sense if they were VIP vendors for the many resort stores catering to the obscenely wealthy.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. Not exactly. Anything beautiful attracts me. He held her gaze.

Her tightened nipples stung.

Again, he concentrated on the jewelry. Where did you find it?

Instinctively, she touched the piece, gold circles and sunbursts forming a V that stopped well above her nose. I designed it.

Interest flared in his green eyes, his lashes thick and long.

She leaned forward, no different from an insect drawn to sugar. Him being physically attracted to her was one thing. Admiring her work put this encounter at a whole other level. The kind that made even practical women lose their good sense.

Screw that. Not me.

So you’re artistic? Pleasure flooded his rumbling voice.

Her inner thighs twitched, heat suffusing them. I am. His question intrigued her. You’re an artist?

An emotion flashed across his face then disappeared before she could place it. If she had to guess, she’d say it was frustration or pain, which evolved into his previous watchful behavior.

I’m an architect. He fingered the silverware, his attention on it rather than her. That’s why I’m here.

Gabe nodded. Me too. His deep-blue eyes sparkled. I’m an architectural engineer.

She would never have guessed. His deep tan belonged to a surfer, the onyx stud in his earlobe more what a musician would wear. Engineers were supposed to be pasty, their eyeglasses thick, pocket protectors integral to their dull-as-dirt clothes. You’re going to renovate or expand Indulgence?

He laughed quietly. Nope. Way more than that.

Specifically designing theme parks. Ethan looked up. A family-friendly one for this locale. An X-rated one for Cravings Island.

Something Disney had never considered for his parks. Curious to hear more, she rested her forearms on the table. How exactly does an erotic theme park work? Please don’t spare any details.

Gabe wagged his finger, his dimples deepening by the second.

His teasing touched something deep within her and thrilled in the best way, his laid-back personality easy to like.

For Ethan, sexy didn’t begin to address his directness or the passion flaring in his eyes when they’d discussed her jewelry. If she pegged him correctly, he’d be one thousand percent male in bed, pure Alpha. No softness until they were afterglowing. Gabe too, only in a lighthearted manner that wouldn’t diminish his animal needs in the least. They couldn’t have been more dissimilar than if they’d come from different parents, though they did complement each other. I’m still waiting.

Ethan regarded her mouth then her eyes, his unfocused. For what?

A great reaction from him, plus a helluva kick to her ego and mega-empowering. Although a feminist at heart, she wasn’t opposed to using a man’s desire for her as a legitimate path to fun. Details as to what you intend to create, build, or whatever on Cravings.

Gabe stroked the tablecloth near her hand.

She fought the urge to touch his long, strong fingers.

He tapped the table. You don’t want to know about the family-friendly areas too?

Listening to his vibrant voice was a gift. He could recite the menu and she’d be on board. Sure. Why not?

That’s the spirit. He gave her a thumbs-up. For this island, we’re focusing on a Pirate Land, Sea Land, Underwater Land, and whatever other tropical themes we can come up with.

Ethan cut in. For Cravings, we’ll have Fetish Land, BDSM Land, Auction Land, Shipwreck—

Wait. He’d lost her. Auction Land?

He sipped his water. Yeah. The stuff pirates did to their virginal captives when they sold them to the highest bidder for lewd purposes, which we’ll cover in the other bawdy lands.

She arched an eyebrow.

His zeal wavered, taking away his smile. You’re against auctioning willing maidens?

Not in the least. But playing with his head was fun. Depends.

He leaned toward her. On what?

Fuck, you smell good. He looked and felt great too, his heat washing over her in waves. How many virgins we can book there? My guess is zero, unless we’re talking about the born-again ones.

He barked a laugh. Get real. You must know what I mean … the stuff in romance novels. He pointed at her. Don’t you dare say you’ve never read one.

She wasn’t a nun. Are books where you got your ideas? You like erotic novels?

Red patches stained his forehead and cheeks. Gabe snickered.

She tucked in her chin. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.

S’okay. He adjusted himself in his chair. For myself, I like regular porn. Now, Gabe—

I have no secrets. He affected a trust-me-baby look and laced his fingers. However, we should get down to why we asked you to join us here.

Yeah that. Having them pick her brain regarding erotic fantasies wasn’t the worst thing to happen. Still, she needed to know why they chose her and not the other women or the guys in here. Each was young, built, and good-looking, their carnal experience legion when it came to the opposite or same sex. Being a shrewd businessman, Jon strove to create a sensual experience for his male and female guests even when they dined. She nodded. Go on.

Ethan spoke, We’re here during the next few days to tour this island and Cravings. See what works and what doesn’t. We need someone to show us around, every part and each activity, no matter how … intense … things get with the various groupings, couplings, whatever you want to call them. He glanced at her mouth then met her eyes. For that, we want you as our guide.

Chapter Two

Olivia’s lips parted and her eyebrows inched upward. Whether she also blushed wasn’t easy for Ethan to determine. Her cocoa-colored skin masked any heat on her face.

Good job, fool. Shocking her wasn’t his intent. As a rule, he was smoother than this, but she’d stolen his usual indifference and instead coaxed out his impassioned side. No surprise. In addition to her quick wit, sharp mind, and artistic nature, she was drop-dead gorgeous.

The wall he’d built around himself, to keep emotions at bay, cracked open further when he needed to keep it intact. Though not at this moment.

He loved her long cornrows. They fell past her flowered top and dangled above her sweet stomach, her skin dewy and satiny from youth. A tall woman, she owned long legs, her curves superbly toned.

His cock thickened