The Bikini Diaries (25 page)

"Right again." Wendy succeeded in smiling back now, but still struggled to get over the surprise. And the memory: She'd wondered if the girl was subtly inviting her to fool

around, and she'd briefly wondered what that would be like.

Stacy looked back and forth between Wendy and Brandon, her expression sly. "It looks like that bikini did its job."

"You could, urn, say that," Wendy replied, and when Brandon cast a questioning look, she saw no reason not to be honest. "The first time I met Stacy, I was shopping for some things that might, uh, garner some interest from guys. Like you."

'Ah," he said, leaning his head back in understanding. "Well, she's right—they definitely worked. And that orange dress... mmm, bunny. The moment I saw you, I wanted you out

of it."

Wendy's breasts tingled with fresh lust as Stacy nodded ' knowingly. "I
knew
that dress was fabulous on you."

"Although it's... seen better days now," Wendy confessed.

"Oh?" Stacy asked.

'It, uh, got a little sandy the night I met Brandon."

Apparently it was obvious
how
it had gotten sandy, since Stacy broke out into a laugh and Wendy and Brandon joined her. And that quickly, Wendy really
did
quit being nervous. Stacy clearly liked her, and Wendy could feel how truly easygoing she was, just as the guys had promised.

It was then that Stacy took her hand. "Come with me and I'll get you some wine. We can dish while the guys man the grill."

'All right," Wendy said—not that she had much of a choice since Stacy was already

pulling her away from Brandon. She simply waved bye to him with a grin, then let her

new friend lead her into the tiki hut.

As promised, Stacy poured Wendy a glass of chardonnay from an open bottle, then said,

wide-eyed and cheerful,
"So
you went fishing for a guy and reeled in Brandon Worth.

What a catch."

The phrase instantly sent Wendy into defensive mode. "Well, I wouldn't say I
caught
him. Not to keep anyway. But we've certainly had fun the past few nights."

"In the sand," Stacy confirmed.
"And
lots of other places, too, I'm betting."

Again, Wendy wondered if Stacy knew about, their three way with Pete. "It's been... the most sexually liberating week of my life."

Stacy bit her lip and leaned closer, giving Wendy a clear shot of cleavage down her low-

cut cami. "Tell me everything."

Nope, no way. Wendy needed to do a
different
kind of fishing first. "I'd... rather hear about you and Pete. You've known each other a long time?"

Stacy nodded, sipping her wine. "Practically forever. He's hot as hell, and a great fuck, so we were talking a week or so ago and decided maybe we should actually try going on a

date or two
before
fucking to see if we really like each other or something.

"But Pete's a pretty confirmed bachelor, and I'm only twenty-six, so I'm not looking for anything serious, either—especially since I happen to live in a smorgasbord of hot, rich men, you know? So... we're trying out the dating thing for fun—but mostly, I think it'll still be about fucking."

She laughed when she was done, then added, "You probably think I'm awful. You don't even know me, and all I can talk about is sex. I hold
this
responsible." She pointed to the nearly empty bottle of chardonnay on the rustic wooden bar.

"No," Wendy quickly assured her.
"I
actually . . . think you're great." And she did. She'd never be as open about sex as Stacy, especially not with strangers, but given the sensual freedom she'd experienced this week, she could appreciate Stacy's bluntness. 'And...

Pete's great, too." She wasn't sure why she added that last part. She mainly needed something else to say. So she looked away, toward the grill, where the guys Stood—and

then dropped her gaze to the patio.

Stacy still stood close in the shadowy air and Wendy could smell her flowery perfume,

the scent light and pretty. Stacy's small hand closed gently around her wrist. "Wait," she whispered, as if she'd just figured something out. "Did you do them both?"

Oh God, how had she given it away? Just by mentioning Pete's name? Wendy felt her

eyes go wide, but had no idea how to answer.

Obviously seeing her alarm, Stacy said, "Hey, no worries if you fucked Pete. We're

totally free agents, and I'm well aware that he and Brandon share sometimes."

At this, Wendy managed to spit out an "Oh." She wasn't surprised to hear about the

"sharing" between the two guys. But she
was
surprised that hearing it made her stomach pinch—just a little.

Because she couldn't be jealous of anything Brandon had done before her. Or would do

after her. She was living in the moment here—that was all. He was a catch, but she'd

have to toss him back very soon.

"So was it good?" Stacy asked, leaning even closer.. The back of her hand, where she still clutched Wendy's wrist, brushed Wendy's breast, bringing her mind—and her body—

back to the present conversation. Her chest tingled.

She sucked in her breath—then admitted the truth. "It was mind-blowing. I'd never done anything like that before, and it was ... amazing."

Stacy replied matter-of-factly. "Yeah, two cocks can really rock your world."

And something in Wendy tensed, although she tried to sound natural. "Have you... with Pete and Brandon?"

Stacy shook her head. "Oh—no. Not that I wouldn't. But things just haven't gone that way. And just between you and me, if I was gonna have a three way with Pete, well... I've kind of been more into girls lately." Then she glanced down at the wine bottle. "I'm gonna go get some more chardonnay."

With that, she picked up her wineglass and strode from the tiki hut, leaving Wendy to

watch the sway of her round ass within a snug pair of jeans as she headed inside.

As the door closed behind her, Wendy's pussy quivered.

Dinner was grilled salmon with a side salad, green beans, and herb-roasted potatoes that convinced Wendy that Pete had been a chef in a former life. "If the parasailing gig ever fizzles, you've got a great fallback position," Wendy assured him from across the patio table.

He shrugged. "My mom is a great cook, so it comes kinda natural. But I could never

work in a restaurant—unless maybe it was on the beach," he added with his usual hot beach-bum grin.

Dinner also came with lots of wine. Wendy lost count of how many bottles they opened,

but she knew they were going through it fast. The chardonnay went down easy with the

fish— and it also relieved her uneasiness about her physical reaction to what Stacy had

said about being into girls.

Besides, that doesn't mean she's into
you. It just
means whatever vibe you picked up on
when you first met was correct. No
biggie. Especially in this world where everyone seemed to be rucking everyone else without a care.

So Wendy forgot all about it as they ate and talked and laughed. They explained to the

guys about their previous meeting, and that led everyone at the table to sharing how they had met

Pete had first gotten acquainted with Stacy when she was waiting tables at a local

restaurant; now she managed the Beach Bazaar and hoped to have her own boutique

someday. Brandon had met Stacy when Pete had brought her to a party at Brandon's

penthouse condo a few years ago. And Pete and Brandon both relayed the story of their

very first meeting while working on the beach in college, although they both remembered

it differently—mainly, Brandon said Pete was a lot cleaner cut in those days, just then

getting out from under his father's military thumb, and Pete claimed the opposite, that

Brandon had been
less
clean cut, with longer hair. To wrap up the conversation, Wendy explained how she'd met Brandon at Volcano's when he'd offered her that elevator ride.

The elevator ride that had changed her life. Although she left that part out.

As Pete drained another bottle by emptying the last of the wine into the two girls' glasses, he said, "Bad news. That's it. We've gone through every bottle of chardonnay in the house. But we can switch to red if you want. Or mixed drinks."

Wendy decided to use it as an opportunity to hint at ending the evening. It had been fun, but... "Remember, some of us have to work tomorrow. As it is, I'll be lucky if I don't have a hangover."

"Good point," Brandon said, then motioned to their dinner companions. "These two don't have early-morning jobs, so they get to sleep in. Then again"—he grinned toward

Wendy— "maybe you should sleep in, too. The later you get up, the less you can find to pick on at the resort."

Wendy's reason for being at Emerald Shores had come up earlier, so she replied simply

by casting a teasing smirk in his direction.

"I say we all get in the hot tub," Stacy suggested merrily.

Wendy felt her eyes widen at the unexpected suggestion— before declining. "I can't—I didn't bring a swimsuit."

Yet it was just as the words left her lips that she remembered who she was with here—

two guys who'd already seen her naked and a girl who probably wouldn't mind.

Undaunted, Stacy said, "Me neither—we'll just strip down to our underwear."

Wendy hid her sigh. There were so many reasons to say no. For some reason—maybe

Stacy's youth, her exuberance— Wendy had reverted back to feeling mature and

responsible here, remembering she had a job to finish. And maybe she'd had so many

new sexual experiences that it felt like enough now. All she really wanted to do was go

back to the resort and get into Brandon's pants. She wanted to have hot-but-easy sex with a guy she'd grown comfortable with.

But then she remembered.

In a couple of days this week would; be over, along with all the sex.

It would be like waking up from a dream you couldn't go back to.

And Stacy was so young and pretty that, despite herself, Wendy didn't want to feel like

the boring grown-up who ended everyone's fun.

So she asked herself one simple question: What would White Bikini Babe do? Then she

said, "All right. Sounds fun."

And once she'd said it, once she'd allowed herself to slip back into that I-want-all-the-new-experiences-I-can-get mindset, it
did
sound fun. Sexy. Naughty. And she was pretty sure her nipples were already hard as she stood up and crossed her arms over her body,

easily removing her tank top over her head to reveal the delicate pastel bra underneath.

If you dose your eyes and someone touches you, they could be ahoy or a girl, fat or

thin, black or white, ugly or beautiful, and you would never know. The pleasure would

be the same. Pleasure is pleasure is pleasure.

Chapter 11

W
endy had just started wondering if her nipples were poking through her bra for all to see when, to her left, Stacy let out a sexy sigh of awe. "So pretty," she said, and Wendy found Sucy's gaze resting on her boobs. "That bra was
made
for you."

She couldn't help glancing down at herself, and being reminded that despite being thin

the bra provided good support, lifting her ample breasts high and leaving the top half on proud, curvy display.

"I have to agree," Brandon said with a sly grin—although when Wendy met his gaze, she couldn't quite read it
Has he noticed Stacy flirting with me? Does it turn him on? Does it
turn
me
on?

The truth was, she already knew the answer to the last question. But was she going to act on it? Was Stacy?

The questions made her glad she'd drunk so much wine. As was often the case, standing

up made her feel much more intoxicated than she had sitting down. Pleasantly so. Like

maybe the questions weren't all that important. Like maybe she would just go with the

flow. Like she kept telling herself to do. Like White Bikini Babe would.

"Your turn," she said to Stacy. Yikes—where had
that
come from? The wine, obviously.

And—yes, the sudden anticipation.

The sudden
go with the flow
feeling that had just washed back over her like a wild ocean wave.

Stacy smiled sexily in response, then removed her lace-trimmed cami over her head to

reveal a tight leopard-print bra underneath.

"Nice," Wendy said. She'd known the gorgeous Asian girl would have spectacular breasts, and she did—as big or bigger than Wendy's, they arced enticingly upward from

the clingy fabric.

Biting her lip, Wendy then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Kicking off her beaded

flip-flops, she didn't hesitate to push the jeans down and step out of them, showing off her flimsy matching thong, so small it barely covered the patch of pubic hair that

remained above her slit

"Shit, honey," Pete said in admiration, and she realized that both guys still sat, fully clothed at the table, watching the show.

'Aren't you boys getting undressed, too?" she prodded flirtatiously.

Brandon's eyes gleamed, his chin propped arrogantly atop his fist. "It's more fun

watching
you two
get undressed."

Wendy pointed at him playfully. "Get that shirt off, buddy. Pants, too. Show me those silk boxers."

Meanwhile, Stacy was slinking out of her jeans, as well. "Oooh, silk boxers. I can't wait."

Pete looked teasingly affronted. "Don't tell me you don't like my plain white undies, babe?" Wendy had noticed last night that he was a boxer-brief man, which suited him well.

Stacy smiled. "I love your undies, Pete. And I love what's inside of them even more."

"That's better," Pete said, pushing to his feet and starting to shed his clothes. Brandon followed.

But Wendy's attention was drawn back to Stacy when she said, "God, I can't get over how incredible your tits are."