Hot Boss - Anne Marsh Page 0,42
and exploring, sucking the nipple that pops free into my mouth. It’s important to be fair, so I make sure to pay equal attention to the other nipple. Hazel shoves her fingers into my hair, tugging so I know when I do something she particularly likes and to do it again.
She moans my name and pulls away so that she can stand up and slide her pants down her legs. Her hands reach for the buttons on my jeans. “You’re slow.”
Unlike Hazel, I didn’t see the need to dress up for the plane. It’s not as if the pilot cares. I shove both jeans and boxers down my legs and kick them away. “Hazel?”
“Yeah?” She sounds dazed.
“Did I tell you tonight that you’re beautiful?” I don’t always remember to tell her, and I’m not sure Hazel’s heard it enough.
“Duly noted.” Her hands pull me closer.
“You’re beautiful here.” I press a kiss against her mouth and work my way down her neck and over her throat, following the soft line down to her shoulder. “And here, too.”
I keep going, down her arm, her fingertips, the palm of her hand and then back up again.
“Here for certain.” I press a kiss against her collarbone and move down to the slope of her breast. “Here.”
I try to show her with my mouth what I should be telling her with words, but kissing her is so much easier.
CHAPTER TEN
DOWNTOWN CABO SHIMMERS in the Mexican heat. Sticking my head in a pizza oven would be cooler. The driver dropped Max, Maple, Hazel and me at a flea market near the marina when Hazel announced she wanted to pick up some souvenirs. The colorful stalls are packed close together. Vendors call out to us, inviting Hazel to “come and look, senorita.” She beams and chatters back in Spanish.
When did she learn Spanish?
And why does she want to buy this...crap?
I look around, trying to see the market through her eyes. There are art galleries in Cabo San Lucas, along with some seriously talented local artists and craftsmen. This stuff, however, looks less than authentic. I don’t think a T-shirt announcing that “Somebody in Cabo loves me” is part of mainstream Mexican culture. In addition to stacks of cheap T-shirts, there are colorfully embroidered white dresses, serapes and these little bobble-headed animals—turkeys, dinosaurs, crocodiles and what looks like a mutant platypus. I set the tiny nodding heads into motion with a flick of my finger. Hopefully Hazel gets her shopping fix fast and we can head back to the hotel. We haven’t christened every room in the villa yet and I have definite plans for the shower.
Max pokes at a pair of red-and-green maracas. He looks bored. “Why do they need us here?”
“Does it matter?” I ask.
“Do you think Maple would like this?” It’s good that he’s abandoned the maracas—the man has no rhythm, which makes his relationship with a professional ballet dancer miraculous—but the T-shirt he’s holding is a little...obscene. I had no idea that you could walk around in public with that kind of suggestion on your chest.
“Put it back if you want to have sex tonight.”
Max grins. He’s fucking with me.
“So are you and Hazel a thing now?” Max drops the shirt back on top of the stack.
“Why would we be a thing?”
“Because you’re getting it on?” Max’s voice is light but the look in his eyes says I’d better not be messing with Hazel. She may have been my friend first, but she’s one of us now and Max will totally throw down for her.
“Why would you think that?”
Max snorts. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”
“We’re just friends,” I say. “But with benefits.”
Max nods slowly. “Right. But you and I are friends and we’re not screwing.”
“Because you’re not my type. And it’s none of your business.”
Another hard look from Max. “I like her. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“I like her, too, dumbass. And it was her idea.”
Max scrubs a hand over his head. “Fine. Then I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I won’t,” I scoff. “This is just fun. We’re not in a relationship. Neither of us wants that.”
“If you say so.” Max shrugs. “But you’re friends, right?”
“Of course.” I turn to follow the girls up the aisle.
“So you’re already in a relationship,” he points out.
“It’s not like that.”
“So what is it like?” He frowns. “Because Maple and I are friends, but we’re also in a relationship and we have sex. I’m not following.”
“You go out together.