Sex on the Beach? (Escape! 3)

Sex on the Beach?
Willa Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Willa Okati
An Authorized Excerpt

"You've got to be kidding me."

Okay, he should have suspected this would be trouble. Warren loved Dusty like the air he'd once breathed, the sun in the sky he'd waved bye-bye to a few years back, even better than strawberry cheesecake.

Loved to fuck him even more.

But God's honest truth, Warren knew better than to go along with Dusty on a lot of things.

Especially when Dusty said, "I've got a surprise for you. Come on. You'll love this."

He knew better. He really, really did. Dusty's last surprise had involved a flight to New Orleans -- red-eye, of course -- and then a day's stay in a motel whose holey avocado-green carpet, harvest-gold curtains, and ink-blot wallpaper had made his head hurt (immortal or not, some things were just too much).

When the sun went down, he'd dragged Warren out to announce to everyone that they were Vampires, capital "V", and if anyone wanted to Interview them, capital "I", they'd talk about the Glory Days of Old, capital etcetera, etcetera.

Form a line, please. Kiss you? But of course. Bite you? Well, maybe just a nibble…

They'd ended up draining an overenthusiastic reporter whose deliberate, enhanced resemblance to Christian Slater had finally gotten on even Dusty's nerves. He'd tasted like newsprint. Yecch.

The idea before that involved planting fanged yellow Easter Peeps on the White House lawn.

And the idea before that…

So, yeah, Warren knew way better.

Damn it, though. He loved the schmuck. Probably too much. Enough, at least, that when Dusty grabbed Warren's hand to tug him along and used the Big Puppy Eyes (which should have looked stupid on a vampire, but didn't), he was a goner.

"Please?" Dusty begged, his way-too-damn-sexy voice all wrapped up in another gob of Sex, with a shiny Sexy cherry on top.

Warren heaved a sigh, folded his newspaper with the sports section open so he wouldn't lose his place (the Mets sucked this season), and let Dusty drag him off to see his latest and greatest.

When he got there and found himself standing in what had once been their guest bedroom, he couldn't stop his mouth from flying open. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

"See?" Dusty grinned wide enough to flash his fangs. How the fuck he managed to make fangs lust-worthy (well, maybe being a vampire gave a guy some special kinks), Warren knew he'd never figure out. "Isn't this the best?"

Warren rubbed the bridge of his nose, right above his glasses (you'd think immortality would have perks like 20/20 vision, but ohhh, nooo). "This time I'm positive you've lost what little mind you had, pea-brain."

Dusty pouted. Should have looked completely idiotic on a six-foot-something man with ripped muscles, but Dusty pulled off the look and still came across like something out of a wet dream. "You don't like this? I went to so much trouble."

"Like it? I don't even know what the hell you're trying to do here." Warren took a few shuffling steps forward. When nothing jumped up to bite his bare toes, he looked around the room. It had been pretty ordinary with white walls, a neatly made bed, a dresser, and fuck-all else.

Now, the furniture had vanished, the ceiling was jam-packed with floodlights, and Dusty had seen fit to dump mounds of something dun-colored all over the floor.

Warren knew he got wrapped up in the evening news, but damn. How had he not noticed Dusty getting all this together?

"Oh!" Dusty jumped over the piles of whatever-this-was to scrape off a small CD player. He pressed a button and the rushing sounds of waves crashing into shores gushed out. "Much better. So, what do you think?"