Jamaica Wild by Josie Jax
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/03/kabana-wild-and-jamaica-wild-tropical.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29888736-jamaica-wild
Hiding in plain sight at a nude Caribbean resort with her best friend Keefer seems to be the perfect plan for paparazzo photographer Anjelee while she awaits the blackmail funds to hit her offshore account.
But her plans go awry when Jager tracks her to sultry Karibu Resort and threatens to extradite her back to the U.S. and see her imprisoned for her crime. As PR agent to a famous Hollywood celebrity who Anjelee has blackmailed, Jager’s loyalties lie with his employer, movie star Mitch Wulfrum.
Or do they?
As soon as Jager steps foot onto the anything-goes island and sees the gorgeous Anjelee and handsome Keefer living it up in the buff, it’s as if Jager’s been drugged. Before he can put Anjelee in handcuffs and haul her back to jail where she belongs, Jager finds himself smoldering in the Jamaican heat and entangled in the couple’s hedonistic web of lust.
Jager Manning stepped from the resort’s boardwalk onto the nude-pool deck, his jaw clenched. Despite the breeze whipping off the Caribbean Sea, perspiration coated his forehead. His nostrils flared with his rapid breathing. But he didn’t give a devil’s damn if he looked like a hissing cobra prepared to strike. He would find her, and he would tear her apart with fangs of lethal venom if it was the last thing he ever did on this earth.
His fingers curled into tight fists. No, make that, he would find her, and he would kill her with his bare fucking hands.
He scanned the stone structure of the outdoor restrooms that divided the au naturel area of the resort from the clothing-optional section. A tinkling waterfall tumbled behind the building into crisp blue waters of a huge figure-eight-shaped swimming pool. His gaze briefly touched on each of a dozen naked people, whooping and squealing at the far end during a game of pool volleyball, but none of them were her.
No, he could never mistake anyone else for her.
He didn’t want anyone else.
He wanted her.
Bare-breasted women of all shapes and lovely sizes floated and bobbed in the water, but it didn’t faze him. Hell no. He was on a mission and not to be sidetracked, even by droves of hot, buck-naked chicks.
He darted a look at the swim-up bar and grill to his right. A thin Jamaican man in a bright-red floral shirt and black shorts stood behind the grill, whistling and flipping burgers. Jager’s stomach growled. His flight had only included a snack, so it’d been over seven hours since he’d last eaten anything of substance, yet even the enticing sizzle and meaty aroma couldn’t detour him from his course.
To find that scheming, thieving bitch, Anjelee Montrose, and throttle her from here to the goddamn moon.
His searching stare shifted to the buxom female bartender as she slid a piña colada across the tiled bar toward a buff, tattooed male. Reggae music blared from the overhead speakers. At the man’s good-natured, overtly sexual thanks, the bartender threw her head back and laughed. She gyrated her voluptuous hips to the catchy island tune and flung her long dreds over one chocolate-toned shoulder.
Jager skimmed a quick look across the pool in the direction of an accented female voice typical of those residing on the small island of Karibu just off Jamaica’s southern coast.
“Left hand green.” One of the resort’s entertainment emcees held a colorful cardboard spinner in her hand and a microphone in the other. She glanced toward a group of bodies entwined on the plastic, dotted game board opposite the pool deck from where Jager stood. There was no mistaking the game.
His gaze took hungry inventory. He searched for Anjelee amid the tangle of male and female limbs, asses, tits and dangling cocks and scrotums.
Then he saw her. Her husky laughter and pale-blonde, pink-striped hair positively ID’d Anjelee. Her toe-touch position caused her long locks to drape over the rear of another equally blonde woman, but it was the sight of that tight little bare rump sticking up in the air that had him stalking around the pool’s perimeter. His carotid pulse beat high in his neck, whooshing up to echo like a bongo drum in his head. He didn’t take his eyes off her even as he weaved his way around lounge chairs, beach bags, and couples engaging in varying displays of affection.
“Oh, yeah, there you go, baby.” At the nearby male voice, Jager glanced downward toward three people in a clench near the pool’s waterfall. The woman moaned while being sandwiched between two men.
Holy crap. Make that displays of all-out sex.
A dark-skinned, attractive woman in a security uniform emerged out of nowhere and trailed close on Jager’s heels. “Excuse me, mon, but you can’t—”
He held up a hand and cut off the voice of apparent authority.
Nothing and no one could stop him at this point. He couldn’t wait to curl his fingers around Anjelee’s smooth neck, to drag her kicking and screaming back to the States. He longed to watch as the prison bars slammed shut in front of her impish little stunned face. Her green cat-eyes would snap with fury while he laughed his ass off at the spoiled fit she’d no doubt throw once she realized she’d finally been caught.
Jager neared, keeping his gaze trained on her upthrust rear. His mouth watered involuntarily. “Uh-huh, don’t look, you fool,” he mumbled to himself. “No matter how good she looks, she’s not going to distract you from getting even and getting justice for Mitch.”
He stopped directly behind her and raked his stare over the tanned arch of her spine, down along the tight buttocks and shapely legs. Against his will, his eyes riveted back up and zeroed in on the moist slit glistening in the sun.
Jesus Christ, help him.
“Right foot red,” the emcee ordered.
“Red? Oh, shit.” Anjelee let out a giggle of delightful protest, but she twisted obediently into a crabwalk pose.
He waited the endless beat for her to look up and spy him.
Finally, her eyes met his. It delighted the hell out of him when her pupils focused on him in recognition. She blinked, and her tanned, heart-shaped face scrunched momentarily, her stunning eyes finally widening with astonishment.
Jager braced himself for the electricity of her bright-green gaze. Once the power of it leveled out and dissipated in his system, he inhaled and crossed his arms. “Hello there, Anjelee.”
“What…? What are you doing here?” She clamped her thighs shut, but not before he got a full-on view of her shaven pussy lips and the pierced hood above her clitoris.
We first met Anjelee Montroses and Jager Manning in Kabana Wild, Tropical Duets # 1, by Josie Jax. Jager is the PR manager for famous movie star Mitch Wulfrum and wealthy sugar cane tycoon Heloki ‘Alohi. Anjelee was hired to be the wedding photographer for Heloki’s daughter Kiona and Mitch. Due to money problems, she climbs the roof and takes compromising pictures of Mitch, Kiona and their lover Kol while celebrating on their wedding night. Since the public is not aware that Mitch is bisexual, and in a polyamorous relationship, she blackmails Mitch for $50,000.
In Jamaica Wild, Tropical Duet Book 2, Anjelee threatens Mitch for a second time stating she will write a tell-all book if she does not receive $250,000. Mitch, Kol, and Kiona ask Jager to go find her, get the pictures, and resolve the issue…without giving her any more money.
Jager finds Anjelee, with the assistance of a PI, at a nudist resort on Jamaica with her best friend Keefer. Both Keefer and Anjelee have feelings for each other, but Anjelee is not aware that Keefer is bi-sexual. Keefer is afraid that Anjelee will not be enough…so he hides his feelings towards her. Jager confronts Anjelee when he finds her playing naked Twister. They argue about the pictures, the money, and her going to jail. So, he decides to stay at the resort, but in order for Jager to stay…he has to get naked or be thrown out. Sparks begin to fly when Jager, Anjelee and Keefer are together and then the fun really begins! The scenes are hot and steamy and the story line is well done. We learn why Anjelee took those pictures and blackmailed Mitch. You feel the struggle between Jager, Anjelee, and Keefer to do what’s right.
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Meet Josie Jax:
osie Jax is the new pseudonym for a USA Today bestselling author of erotic romances in various genres. She lives in the Midwest and dreams of becoming a crazy cat lady by rehabbing an old barn into a fancy mansion for stray cats and stranded kittens.
Please visit Josie’s website or feel free to email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
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