Page 80 of Hawaii Can Suck It

Cam and I jump apart, eyes wide.

“Shit, we gotta get there first!” She takes off running. “Come on!”

I follow, but not before stealing one last glance at the stunning view. An idea stirs. My life might be in a tailspin, but maybe—just maybe—I can help Cam make her dream happen.

***

Oh,forfuck’ssake,look at her ass.

Cam hooks her thumbs into her belt loops, shimmies out of her sinfully shortdenim shorts, and I’m salivating. My eyes are bulging out like a cartoon dog, all because of one perfectly executed strip-tease that I know—I fucking know—wasn’t even for me.

And yet, my dick is standing at full attention as if she just gave me a lap dance.

Because Camila Morales is wearing a red thong bikini bottom.

Thong.

Why is she doing this to me?

This is it. This is how I die. Not from a stunt gone wrong. Not from one of Blaze’s “genius” ideas. Nope. Death by Cam’s ass. Melting my brain down.

That baby deserves a spot in a virtual museum; her derriere is next-gen art. The kind of masterpiece that would make AI artists retire all other models because they’ve found the ultimate muse.

She does this little bounce-and-wiggle to adjust her ponytail with her sexy scrunchie, and I swear my soul leaves my body. Then when she bends to stuff her shorts into her backpack… my brain sends emergency signals to my cock.Houston, we have liftoff!

I wonder which of these trees would best support her weight while I…

What the actual fuck, Dare?This day is supposed to be about empowering her. Building her confidence. Not mentally calculating load-bearing capacities of tropical foliage because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.

“Earth to Reece?” She waves a hand in front of my face. “Want me to hold the camera while you strip down to your board shorts?”

Little Reece to Big Reece. Incoming message! She asked you a question, dipshit.

“Yes, uh, yeah, cheers, great, thanks.”

Stellar response. Just hand her your ever-present filming rod, you moron.

Cam bites her lip, a way-too-amused glint in her eye.

She knows.

She fucking knows.

“DareSquad, feast your eyes on this!” She stretches the selfie stick out over the edge, giving viewers a vertigo-inducing shot of the falls.

The water thunders down like God himself turned on the world’s biggest shower, crashing over rocks carved by mythical giants. White spray explodes everywhere, creating a constant rainbow mist. Vines cling to the cliffside, their emerald-green tendrils swaying in the humid breeze. This place is otherworldly, a miracle.

The pool below? Straight-up turquoise magic. So clear you could probably read a book through it. The whole thing is ringed by rocks wearing fluffy moss coats and decorated with wild orchids that you would think were placed there by a Hollywood movie set designer.

“Can you hear this monster?” She holds the phone closer. “It’s like standing next to a jet engine. My whole body is vibrating!”

I watch her work the camera, talking directly to the audience without me, and something warm spreads through my chest. I was right. She was made for this.

“Hey, Dare!” she shouts over the roar. “Temperature prediction—refreshing splash or a cold kick to the balls?”

“No idea.”I hope it’s freezing. So my cock forgets how much it wants her.

“Well gang, we’re about to find out together! Although…” She peeks beyond the cliff again. “That’s definitely higher than what it looked like on Google Maps.”

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