Fake Engagement, Real Temptation

Miss Luna clapped, getting everyone’s attention, and taught another move. Then another. One at a time, until an hour had passed and all the motions started to combine together. It was fun the more Carrie got into it.

Kevin wandered along, leaving a bad taste in Carrie’s mouth and a smiling Wendy next to her. No matter how much she tried to focus on the lesson, she still felt stiff. She watched the women around her. Their slim hips barely moving and flat stomachs flexing. Maybe that’s why Kevin had never shown such genuine love and affection for her. She looked nothing like Wendy or any other woman in class.

Miss Luna came around to Carrie while everyone was practicing. Apparently it was her turn for the one-on-one chat.

“Finding your strength and femininity is key,” Miss Luna said, coming to stand beside Carrie.

Wendy must have heard her, because she gave Carrie a look that said, “I told you so, you cow.”

God, she wanted to crawl under the sand. Building her self-es

teem back was a lot harder in the presence of her ex’s mistress.

Miss Luna took Carrie’s hand and led her to the side of the room, while everyone else kept practicing. Whether she picked up on the hostility between her and Wendy or the fact that Carrie wanted to run out, Miss Luna seemed to sense just what Carrie needed.

“You are beyond lovely,” Miss Luna said. “Own what you have. Never be ashamed. Head up. Always.” Her kind black eyes bore into Carrie with softness. “Just as their bodies have their own qualities, your body has unique strengths.”

Carrie raised her eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Miss Luna nodded. “You’re the only one here who can keep a grass skirt on.” She

winked and gave a little shimmy of her own. The woman just let her hips move, like they had their own mind. That was when Carrie noticed Miss Luna had sizeable assets, too. But Carrie hadn’t noticed before because of the confident way Miss Luna carried herself.

“Own it,” Miss Luna said again.

“…Okay.”

Here goes nothing.

…

I have a surprise for you.

Blake had guided people to the tops of mountains, faced down wild animals, jumped out of airplanes, but none of that made him as excited as those few words from Carrie.

She’d been so enthusiastic he’d agreed to join her at tonight’s luau dinner. The resort threw a luau on the beach three times a week, complete with a suckling pig and entertainment on a massive stage.

So Blake sat at the front table, fire dancers wrapping up their performance and the suckling pig smelling well-cooked, while he waited for Carrie. Maybe she was an extra in one of these shows? The curtain raiser or something?

But when a man in a headdress of sorts and grass pants blew into a shell, the fire pit in the corner rose and a line of women came onto stage in grass skirts and bra-like tops and—holy shit, there was Carrie.

He’d never seen any woman look so beautiful.

Her long hair was down, and a crown of flowers sat atop her head. A long grass skirt with a row of leaves accented her perfect ass. She looked native. Natural. Gorgeous.

He heard Wendy whisper from the table next to his. “They didn’t ask me to join because I think I intimidate everyone,” she said.

Yeah, or her flat ass couldn’t hold up a breeze, much less a skirt.

The drums started and Carrie smiled. Blake winked and clapped.

Swish, sway.

Her hips moved back and forth slowly to the beat of the drum.

The women were all dancing in a line, but his focus was on Carrie.

Her body was made for this. Her toned stomach flexing with the moves, and her arms out to the sides, toes pointed as she whipped back and forth, back and forth.