Read The Bikini Diaries Online
Authors: Lacey Alexander,cey Alexander
beyond the glass behind him.
"It probably goes without saying that I've been very impressed with the resort. You've created a tropical paradise that meets the needs of every traveler. Emerald Shores
provides a unique, upscale experience that can be whatever a vacationer wants, whether
it's casual or posh."
They both looked pleased—even if she only caught Brandon's expression in her
peripheral vision—and she wondered if the next part would surprise them.
"However," she went on, "perfection lies in the details, so once I realized what a gem Emerald Shores truly is, I naturally found myself seeking out flaws. And I believe that for this resort to reach its full potential, some small but pertinent changes will need to be considered."
She lifted a glance, just to gauge their reaction. Both looked content enough, and Charles Penny said, "Mr. Carlisle explained his usual way of doing business, so we were aware you'd likely bring such items to us. We'll be most curious to hear what they are." Then the two men exchanged looks that told her they took so much pride in the resort they
couldn't believe she'd found room for improvement.
Well, sorry, but get ready, boys.
From there, Wendy read off a long list of changes she felt would benefit Emerald Shores.
She knew that every time she paused, they thought she'd finished, yet she would then
continue on. She finally concluded with, "The snack and drink bars should open earlier—
it gets hot on the beach and people need to stay hydrated long before eleven a.m. during the summer months, so you're missing out on revenue there
and
irritating patrons. Not all the beach umbrellas and cabanas should be reserved in advance—I saw several couples
and families who arrived and on their first day were surprised and angry that they had no access to an umbrella as they had not brought their own. The golf carts are a great
concept, but let's knock down the price—you'd rent a lot more of them, and that would
reduce the traffic on the shuttle system, which also needs to be reworked and better
organized. Service seems sporadic and slightly undependable as it is. All outdoor pools
need speakers, music piped in to them—a little calypso music adds to that tropical
paradise feeling and reminds people they're on a lavish vacation in a special place. And the pools need better refreshments, too."
When she stopped talking, they stayed quiet for a moment, until finally Brandon said,
"With all due respect, Wendy, isn't all of this rather... small potatoes?"
Now she met his gaze. For some reason, the challenge made it easier. Or maybe she'd just finally gotten used to the idea of whom she'd been fucking. Either way, she put on a
professional but pointed smile and replied, "I see them more like pickles, Brandon."
He looked perplexed, and next to him, Charles Penny looked completely dumbfounded.
"Pickles?" Brandon asked.
"On its own, each seems small. But put them all together and you've got... a great big cucumber. If you take my meaning."
She saw him struggle to hide his smile. "I do. Little things add up to bigger ones. But with all those... flaws, as you called them, I do hope to hear that you've found just as many things at Emerald Shores to your liking."
This time, she didn't hesitate to let a full smile stretch across her face. "Don't worry.
Overall, I've found my visit very pleasurable." And her panties went damp even as the words left her.
"Well," Mr. Penny interjected—drawing her eyes back to him, "we'll certainly take everything you've suggested under advisement. We'll need to talk, of course, and get back to you on it, asking you to bear in mind that we're focused on
new
projects for at least the remainder of this year. In the meantime, though, I hope we can count on your support
with Mr. Carlisle."
"I'm afraid that before I can make any recommendation to Mr. Carlisle, we'll need a firm commitment on what changes you're willing to institute and by when. Your expansion
plans sound great, but what's already here can't be neglected. I've prepared a full list of the items I mentioned," she said, sliding it across the table.
At this, Mr. Penny nodded solemnly, clearly a bit perturbed that she was actually making a
demand,
and Brandon simply continued looking stunned—
by
her demands, or still simply by her presence, she couldn't tell.
"I'll be here for three more days and I have a lot yet to see. I'll call with any additions to my list, and in the meantime, it's been a pleasure to meet with you both."
Both men returned the sentiment, and as she rose to her feet, Brandon rushed to make his way around the table. "Let me show you out."
He accompanied her to the double doors just around the corner and out of sight from the
table, then leaned near her ear with a wicked grin. "Do you have any idea how hard I am right now?"
"Let me check," she returned, then pressed the flat of her palm to the front of his pants—
to find a column of pure steel that made her pussy flutter.
"Mmm," she purred. Then said, "See you for parasailing, Mr. Worth."
Brandon stood on the beach, watching one of Pete's boats glide across the water near the horizon, a billowy yellow parachute floating in the sky behind it. Then he turned his eyes toward the boardwalk in the distance behind him, waiting for Wendy to arrive.
He still couldn't believe it. Just couldn't fucking believe it. Of all the women in all of Emerald Shores... what were the chances?
Not that it mattered. He was pretty sure they were both very capable of separating
business and pleasure. He'd just never fucked anyone before who held his livelihood in
her hands.
The good part, though, was that maybe she didn’t
know
she held his livelihood. She probably didn't realize Walter was one of their last shots for getting an injection of new revenue. There were always other investors to approach, of course, but the clock was
ticking—the resort had some big bills to pay at the end of the second quarter, which was coming way too fast.
He'd continued not letting himself think about that and letting his beach bunny be a nice distraction from big worries. Hopefully she'd still be a nice distraction, as long as he could forget she held the reins to his future.
And maybe that distraction was why he'd asked her to spend the night last night—another
thing he was still trying to understand. He'd attempted to shroud the invitation in
consideration, in not wanting to make her go home late—but the truth was that he'd
wanted her to spend the night with him. He'd wanted to sleep with her—actually
sleep.
He'd wanted to wake up with her this morning. Shit. Just because he'd fucked her in the
ass? No—because it definitely wasn't his first time for that. And if he was honest with
himself, it wasn't really about the nice distraction she'd been providing, either.
The fact was, he'd felt... some sort of connection with her. More than just the sex part.
He'd felt her trust, her openness; he'd felt her holding nothing back from him.
"Hey."
He looked up at the perky sound of her voice. "Hey." Then he smiled, shook his head at their shared shock in his office a few hours ago, and they both simply laughed.
After which he couldn't resist giving her a long once-over— damn, she wore that bikini
well, every curve ripe and begging to be touched. "Bunny, I'd never have dreamed you were hiding
this
body under that pretty suit you wore this morning."
She simply raised her eyebrows in reply. 'And I'd never have dreamed you were hiding
that
job under this easygoing-guy veneer."
"Well, life is just full of surprises, isn't it?" he said with a wink. Then he added, "You're cool with this, right? I mean, this doesn't change anything between us, finding out what I do and what
you
do?"
And that you're basically holding my balls in a vise right now even
if you don't know it.
“I’m cool with it if you are. I've never had occasion to ... you know, combine work and
pleasure, but I see no reason that
that
has to affect
this."
'Agreed," he said, but instead of shaking hands like this morning, he sealed it with a kiss.
A few minutes later, the
Sky Pirate II
came pulling up to shore, dropping off a group of pretty college girls in scant bikinis, all of whom appeared to have enjoyed flirting with Pete—and likewise, Brandon felt sure. Although his buddy had a whole staff who worked
for him, he often drove one of the boats himself, simply because he enjoyed it.
Long ago, when the idea for Emerald Shores had first been forming in Brandon's head,
he'd approached Pete about being a partner in the venture, but Pete had turned him down, having his eye on the parasailing business and knowing it was more of a sure thing. Both guys had turned out happy, he thought with some satisfaction, watching his friend jump
over the side of the large speedboat painted with his logo, then start wading to shore to meet them.
Just like yesterday, Pete kissed Wendy's hand in greeting and Brandon simply shook his
head and chuckled. But then he remembered her fantasy, the one about being with both of
them—and his dick got a little hard as the three of them started toward the
Sky Pirate II.
"This guy showing you a good time, I hope?" Pete asked her as they sloshed through the waves.
She cast Brandon a sideways glance that stiffened him further.
"Very
good," she said.
Pete flashed a cocky grin. " 'Cause if he doesn't, you just come find me, honey, and
I'll
take care of you."
"I'll definitely remember that," she said, openly flirting back with him right in front of Brandon, then casting Brandon a teasing smile.
Ten minutes later, Pete had driven them out into deeper waters and outfitted them with
life jackets, explaining to Wendy how the double lift worked, allowing both her and
Brandon to be taken up together in a joint harness. They sat side by side, rigged up and ready to go, and when the boat picked up speed again, the parachute would catch the
wind and lift them into the air.
"Nervous?" Brandon asked as Pete departed the lift platform at the rear of the vessel.
She just looked at him. 'After last night, and this morning, this is nothin'."
And he believed her. Something was changing in her. He'd thought she seemed confident
enough when they'd first met, but this was different—it ran deeper. More than before, she seemed ready for anything.
Seconds later, the boat took off, speeding forward over the blue-green water until Pete
reached over from his driver's seat to hoist the parachute and lift Brandon and Wendy
skyward. She gave a little gasp at the initial ascent, but then simply held on to her harness and started enjoying the view.
Once they were all the way up, Brandon took the opportunity to point out different parts of the resort, and landmarks farther away as well, up and down the beach.
"My God, it's so peaceful up here," she said. "That wasn't how I'd envisioned it. You get such a different look at things." Then she slowly drew her gaze away from the far-reaching scenery and turned to him with a sly smile.
"What?" he said.
"It just hit me all over again. You're Mr. Emerald Shores. Since you didn't know who I was, why didn't you mention it?"
"I wasn't trying to be deceptive. I just
never
mention it when I meet a woman."
She leaned back her head as if in understanding. "Gold digger precaution?"
He shrugged. "Not exactly. It just... gets in the way of getting down and dirty. And then, there's always the worry of blackmail."
She lowered her chin doubtfully. 'Afraid I'm going to tell the local papers you molested me with a cucumber?"
He tried to smile but suspected the gesture didn't quite make it to his eyes.
Which she misunderstood, going more serious on him. "Don't worry I would never do
that."
"I know you wouldn't. But once, a few years ago, a woman
did
tell the local media some things we did, and it came off pretty scandalous and had some of my investors upset. So, since then, I just keep it under wraps."
He saw the understanding in her eyes—and was a little surprised he'd just told her about that. He hadn't intended to. "Oh," she said softly. "Sorry that happened. I'm a pretty big believer that what someone does in the bedroom—or on the beach, or the pier—is their
own business, so you don't have to worry about anyone finding out."
"Thanks for that. The woman I mentioned... well, she was a bad reminder that not
everyone is as nice as you."
Next to him in the sky, she rolled her eyes and got indignant. "You
still
think I'm
nice"!
I let you fuck my ass with a damn cucumber and you think I'm nice?"
He couldn't help laughing—at the whole situation. "Sorry to break it to you,
but yeah.
You're
nice.
Live with it, bunny."
"You know," she said, "after we had sex on the beach, I had this insane fear that someone from the Emerald Shores offices could have seen us and that I might lose my job. And it
turns out I was fucking the freaking
CEO."
"Hey, CEOs need sex, too."
"Clearly a lot of it," she said, and they laughed some more.
That was when he caught her giving him another one of those inquisitive looks. "What?"
he asked.
"I guess I'm just... amazed by you. How on earth did you go from beach-umbrella boy to being the man who runs this?" She motioned toward the shore, all the beautiful colored stucco buildings that had created a skyline where one hadn't been before. And it made
him feel good,
really
good—but he always tried to be humble about it because he understood that success was often about the luck of the draw. So he shrugged and said, "I just had an idea—for an incredible place. A place that could be a vacation destination or a home, but where you never had to leave if you didn't want to. A Disney World for beach