Page 34 of Hawaii Can Suck It

Unfortunately, my brain is dead set on one person.

Reece.

I shut my eyes, imagining him on his knees, that perpetual scowl replaced with hunger. Those capable hands spreading my thighs. His smart mouth finally doing something besides criticizing me.

My free hand finds my breast, rolling my nipple as I imagine Reece’s hands caressing me, teasing until they form stiff, aching peaks, begging for more of his touch.

I switch to pulse, and the rhythmic sensation builds, escalating as I envision his tongue plunging and caressing my intimate core. Sparks shoot off like fireworks, his hunger insatiable, as if he hasn’t eaten in years. He feasts on me with a ferocity that sends shockwaves up my spine.

“Almost… fuck…”

I grip the stone ledge, rocking my hips slightly, chasing the sensation. I’m climbing faster than I ever have alone at home. Must be that island magic.

My body starts to coil.

The pressure builds.

I am so close.

I twist the dial to Volcanic.

And SCREAM.

“¡HIJO DE LA CHINGADA!”

The wand launches out of my grip, thrashing like a live wire, the harsh spray slamming into me with the force of a pressure washer.

I stumble, flailing, attempting to clutch on to the hose as it whips around.

BANG.

It smacks into my arm.

BANG.

It whacks my ass.

I scramble to turn it off, but the dial is slippery as hell, and the sprayer is still attacking me.

“OH MY GOD, OW! STOP! STOP!”

I shriek again, arms flailing, slipping against the wet rock.

I try to seize it, but it might as well be a lubed-up eel. The burst blinds me, then shoots between my thighs like it’s trying to power wash my hoo ha.

“¡DIOS MÍO! ¡NO!¡PARA!”

I finally get my hands on the demonic shower wand, my fingers gripping the slippery handle like a warrior wielding a sword.

And then I notice…

A man. Standing. In. My. Shower.

I SCREAM.

Like, full-bodied, horror movie scream. And in my blind panic, I twist the nozzle, spraying him.

A direct shot… to the eye.

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