Hot Maui Nights

“Let’s go downstairs and check out the pools.” Braedon says beside me.

I look up from the drink I’ve been nursing for the last hour. I’m halfway to full tilt after doing a couple shots at the luau and then a couple more drinks at the mini-mixer with the senior staff, half of whom are still mingling behind us in Braedon’s suite. We always throw an after party, and even though everyone is invited, usually it’s only the executive leaders that come to drink with us.

No junior team member wants to risk getting drunk with their boss. Besides, they probably think we’re the old guys and want nothing to do with us. The idea of Sariah poolside making out with any of the young bucks in our office makes my blood boil. I know why Braedon wants to go down. Rivka. But is he going to do anything about it? That’s the question.

We’re sitting in two chairs on the balcony overlooking the moonlit ocean. It's gorgeous, but would be a lot better with a certain woman on my lap, my hand tucked between her thighs, her soft breath on my neck as we enjoy the moonlight.

Fuck, I’m going to end up in a straitjacket by the end of this weekend if I don’t knock it off.

“Who is she?” I goad, turning my attention to Braedon and his internal strife, wondering if he’ll ever admit his feelings to me.

“What?” he glances over at me.

“Man, who do you think you’re fooling? I’ve known you for almost twenty years. You have your eye on someone, but if you don’t want to say who, that’s fine.” I stand up with my near empty glass. “Let’s go.”

We freshen our drinks and go downstairs to cruise the pools, spending a few minutes talking to our employees at each one until we hit the pool furthest from the property. The loud pool. The party pool. The pool that, ten years ago, I would’ve been at before they considered me an old man.

It takes me point-five seconds to find Sariah in the darkness. She’s wearing a tiny bikini top that barely contains her full breasts, and is swarmed by single guys from the office.

“Fuck,” I grumble, tossing back all of my scotch and soda.

“Mr. Taylor. Mr. Morvick!” Ashley, one of our administrative assistants, throws her hands up and runs toward us, swinging all party-goers eyes our way. Sariah’s eyes grow wide as they lock with mine, but this time, she doesn’t sneer. She doesn’t look away. A smirk crosses her lips, and she looks me up and down in a way that has all my alcohol-laden blood rushing straight to my cock.

The assistant bounces on her toes in front of us. “Having fun, Ashley?”

“I am.” She shoves a bottle of Jäegermeister in our face. “Want a shot?”

Braedon takes a step back, and I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

“We have other alcohol.” She waves to a table at our right with a half dozen bottles on it.

“Not tonight.” I smile, slapping Braedon on the shoulder, my eyes on Sariah. “We can’t stay, but wanted to drop by and make sure everyone was having a good time before we turn in for the night.”

“Tired?” Sariah says from across the pool. Her tone is light and musical, almost taunting, and I know she’s trying to piss me off. It’s working.

“I’m going to head back.” Braedon turns and walks away, in the opposite direction of our rooms. I let him go and let Ashley pull me to the table of alcohol, hoping that’ll provide enough of a distraction so he can do whatever he’s going to do.

“Okay, what kind of shot do you want to have with me?” I lean against the railing and face the pool, inviting the guys to join us. They peel themselves away from Rivka and Sariah—because no junior team member is going to deny an opportunity to have a drink with the boss—and I watch as Rivka excuses herself.

Sariah stares at me and licks her lips. Then she stands up, smoothing down her swim skirt in the back, and grabs her stuff, leaving the pool area without saying goodbye.

As the guys and gals’ debate which shot to make, I also excuse myself. “Decide what we’re drinking, and I’ll be right back.”

I follow at a safe distance and notice Sariah looking over her shoulder at me before ducking into a bathroom. Stepping inside, I close and lock the door behind me, catching her eye in the mirror’s reflection. She puts her bag down on the counter and stares back at me through the mirror, her perfectly plump lips curled in a taunt. “I thought you were tired.”

I can’t stop myself. In two seconds, I’m behind her, slamming her palm against the mirror, pinning her in place with my body. My cock is achingly hard and pressed against her sweet ass as I lower my mouth to her ear. “I am tired. Tired of you fucking with me. Tired of you ignoring me. Tired of you denying me.”

Her lips part on a small moan. “What are you going to do about it?”

She arches her back, grinding her ass into my cock. Any pseudo-semblance of control I had vanishes as I make eye contact with her in the mirror. She wants me. She wants this, but she also wants me to take it so she can pretend like she’s not sending me mixed signals, like she hasn’t changed her mind about what can be between us.

I reach between our bodies and rip open the Velcro on my board shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Her pupils dilate, but she continues to say nothing. Flexing my hand that covers hers on the mirror, I clench my teeth and pin her with a look that most people would find threatening, but I suspect she finds arousing. “Don’t you fucking move this hand.”

Crouching down behind her, I lift her skirt and yank down her bikini bottoms to find her lower lips glistening with her arousal. I hiss and move my mouth within centimeters of her pussy, blowing softly. She trembles in response to my effort. “Are you going to give this to me, Sariah, or are you going to make me take it?”