Heat of Passion
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As far as bachelor parties went, this one f**king sucked. Normally it was the best man’s job to organize the stag, and Carson Scott had been tossing around wild and kinky ideas in his head ever since his best friend got engaged. But had any of those wild and kinky ideas seen the light of day? Nope. Because Garrett and Shelby wanted to plan it themselves—and make it a joint shindig.
Spending time with Shelby’s hot friends might’ve been fun, except they were all married, engaged or attached. All of them. And since almost every guy on Garrett’s SEAL team, including Carson, was single, the chances of hooking up with a female member of the bridal party were zero.
Fortunately, the bachelor/bachelorette party was being held at Hot Zone, the newest nightclub in San Diego, so the chances of hooking up with a non-wedding-related chick were looking pretty good.
Carson lifted his beer to his lips and stepped closer to the second-floor railing that overlooked the crowded dance floor below. Hot Zone was one of those establishments that didn’t care much for lighting. Darkness fell over the entire club, broken only by the bright flashes of the strobe lights. A sultry salsa beat pounded out of the speaker system, the heavy bass making the floor beneath his feet vibrate, and down on the dance floor, couples grinded together to the music. One of the couples was Garrett and Shelby, only they weren’t doing much dancing. Just standing in the middle of the floor, making out as if they were the only two people in the room.
Next to Carson, fellow SEAL Ryan Evans tapped one hand on the iron railing and frowned at the display of vertical sex happening below. “Shit, I really need to get laid,” Ryan grumbled. He took a swig of beer then slammed the bottle back on the table they’d been standing around for the past hour. Glancing over at the long chrome bar counter behind them, he frowned again and added, “And if anyone f**king suggests I hop into bed with one of those old dudes by the bar, I’ll kick your ass.”
Matt O’Connor laughed. “The bald one’s kinda cute. I bet he’d do you.”
“The only person I want to do is the maid of honor,” Ryan said with a sigh. “Man, I’d give up my favorite rifle for a chance with her.”
All the guys nodded, their gazes glumly moving in the direction of the sexy woman who was chatting with her husband near the bar. Brianna Holliday, the maid of honor, was the stuff of wet dreams. Tall, blonde and stacked. Her blue dress was knee-length, with a modest neckline, yet it just screamed “Fuck Me Now”. No doubt that’s what her husband was gonna do the second he got her home tonight. If Carson had a woman like that, he’d never let her get out of bed.
He turned back to his teammates. “Isn’t it the duty of the best man to screw the maid of honor? Why am I deprived of the privilege?”
“Because you’ve already screwed the bride,” Junior Lieutenant Will Charleston pointed out, finally joining the conversation.
Carson stifled a groan. Why wasn’t he surprised that Will knew about his romp with Shelby and Garrett? He’d only told Matt, but when you spent all your time with the same five guys, secrets didn’t stay secret for long.
“I wish I screwed the bride,” Ryan said, staring longingly at Shelby.
Carson followed the other man’s gaze, and couldn’t help admiring Shelby himself. Shel was the epitome of a California girl—blonde hair, blue eyes, toned bod. And she’d been a wildcat in bed, made him come so hard he could barely walk afterwards. Alas, thinking about the threesome he’d had with Shelby and Garrett in that heat wave six months ago was a no-no. Now that the couple was getting married, Carson knew it wasn’t appropriate to picture his best friend’s future wife naked.
“Quit acting like you’re starved for sex,” Matt said to Ryan. “Didn’t you go home with that redhead from the bar last weekend?”
Ryan groaned. “Unfortunately. We went back to her place, and I was on the receiving end of a pretty awesome blowjob—and then her husband came home. I barely got out of there with my skin intact.”
Matt hooted, Carson chuckled, and even Will, who rarely smiled, looked like he was fighting back laughter. Ry’s story didn’t come as a surprise to anyone, though. One of these days Ryan Evans was going to find himself on the receiving end of an ass kicking. He seemed to attract the married ones like flies to a corpse.
“Your dick’s really going to get you in trouble, you know that?” Matt said, voicing Carson’s thoughts.
“At least I’m using my dick. Unlike you monks over here.” He gestured to Will and Carson.
Carson raised a brow. “Don’t go dragging me into this. My dick’s doing fine, thank you very much.”
“Good to hear,” a throaty female voice remarked.
Carson swiveled his head in the direction of the voice, just in time to see a petite brunette in a yellow halter-top emerge from the shadows. The second floor of the club had a loft feel to it, a huge open space with a handful of floor-to-ceiling beams, and the brunette must have been leaning against one of those pillars, because Carson hadn’t even seen her approach. Which raised the question, just how long had she been lurking in the darkness, eavesdropping on them?
The others looked as startled as he felt to see her standing there. “So, which one of you is going to dance with me?” she asked in that husky voice.
Man, how did a tiny thing like her have such a sexy, f**k-me voice? Carson studied her, waiting for flashes from the strobe to illuminate her face so he could get a better look. Each time a streak of light lit up her face, Carson liked what he saw. She had one of those faces you saw in makeup ads—smooth creamy skin, a small upturned nose, and naturally red lips that were lush and sensual and ridiculously kissable. He lowered his gaze and liked what he saw there too. Perky br**sts, small but in proportion to her petite frame. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, but her sexy little body was a total turn-on.