Easy Does It (Palm Island Book 5), page 1
Easy Does It
Palm Island, 5
K.M. Neuhold
Easy Does It ©2024 by K.M. Neuhold Publishing LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book
may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or
reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations,
places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Book and Cover design by Natasha Snow
Designs
Cover Image by FuriousFotog
Editing by Kate Woods
Contents
Blurb
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Epilogue
More By K.M.Neuhold
About the Author
Stalk Me
Blurb
I've never shied away from the hard things in life. But falling in love with Lux… Well, EASY has never felt so good.
Most of the guys on Palm Island call me the token straight guy. The truth is, I’m not so much straight as I’m just… nothing. Asexual, demi, the label doesn’t make much of a difference to me. And living on an island that’s nothing but parties and nudity half the year, well, let’s put it this way… I’m the guy who sells clothes.
As long as I have Easy, everything else is a day on the beach.
I didn’t think anything could ever change things between us, but that was before I saw The Tape.
It’s like seeing him that way flipped a switch in my brain. Now it’s all I can see when I close my eyes. It’s all I can hear. I think I want the real thing…
It’s the middle of the season, which means nothing but beach parties, theme weeks, and all of the insanity that comes with the six months of Palm Island being overrun by tourists flooding our shops from dawn to dusk.
Can Easy and I figure things out in the middle of all this chaos? Or are we just building a sandcastle that’s bound to be washed away with the tide?
Chapter 1
EASY
There’s something about the combination of warm sand between my toes, an ocean breeze licking at my salty skin, and the hot, wet suction of an eager mouth around my cock that’s absolutely unbeatable. I tangle my fingers in the mess of damp, dark hair covering the face of the man whose name I already forgot. Tim? Tom? Or was it John maybe? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like he knows my name either. Not my real name, anyway. All Tim-Tom-John knows about me is that he likes my pretty blue eyes and that I’m easy as hell…
Vikings have Valhalla, Buddhists have nirvana, and slutty gay dudes? We’ve got Palm Island. Miles of sandy, clothing-optional beaches, hundreds of carefree, horny men all here for one thing—a good time. And what kind of local would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure the tourists enjoy their stay? This blowjob is a community service when you think about it.
He drags his tongue along the length of my shaft and sucks me deeper, drawing an involuntary groan from me. The sound vibrates in my throat, but there’s a strangely hollow feeling in my chest and gut. Maybe there’s only so much thrill to be had from getting a semi-public blowjob from a complete stranger, and after a thousand or so, I’ve finally reached the limit.
I huff in frustration and snap my hips, thrusting down his throat. My cock throbs at the answering moan that pulses through his smooth, tight muscles, straight down my shaft. But it doesn’t do anything for the irritating well of boredom that’s growing with every passing second. Maybe I’m distracted. The noise from the party going on just on the other side of the pier is certainly loud enough. It’s a buzz of laughter, music, and the crash of the tide, all coming together to create a familiar white noise that feels like home.
I close my eyes and try to block it all out, forcing myself to concentrate on the feeling of lips and a tongue expertly caressing my length. Whatever his name is, he definitely knows his way around a dick. He’s not the best I’ve ever had, but I’d give him a solid eight and a half. Who was the best? I mentally flip through countless memories, most of them blurry and faded, blending together with men who came before and after. A few stand out, but mostly it’s like trying to remember one specific grain of sand on the beach. Impossible.
He releases my cock from his mouth with a sloppy sound, and my eyes pop open. His lips are damp and swollen, tilted into a smile that’s half self-conscious, half-sultry as he replaces his mouth with one hand, lazily stroking my half-hard dick.
“If you like something specific, you can tell me. Or if you want to do something else instead?” He licks his lips, looking up at me with those eager-to-please puppy eyes that caught my attention in the first place tonight.
Something about the sweetness in his voice reminds me of Hennessey, a fucking eternity ago now. All sugar and spice, desperate to please me, even more desperate to believe a quick fuck in the sand could lead to something real. My dick shrivels and I grimace. Fuck, I am off my game tonight. But my sudden bout of performance anxiety doesn’t seem to bother him at all. He strokes me harder, flicking his tongue along the head of my cock in an attempt to revive it while he waits for my answer.
Before I can work out a way to either get my dick back in the game or give him the polite brush off, my phone vibrates against my thigh. My shorts are halfway down, just enough to free my cock in the heat of the moment, and they sag a little more as I shove my hand in after my phone. My gut tells me who’s texting before I even see the notification, but as soon as I see his name flash across the screen, my cock jumps in Tim-Tom-John’s grip.
Lux.
An electric heat fills the hole in my chest with ease, my pulse speeding up and a smile spreading over my lips. The message is a single word.
Help.
From anyone else, this might be concerning, but from Lux…
A second message comes through. This one is a hasty photo, barely lit by the glow of the bonfire. But even with the poor picture quality, I can tell what it is. Warm laughter bubbles up from that sizzling place in the center of my chest, and I reach down with my free hand to unwrap the eager grip from around my now fully hard cock.
“Change of plans, baby.” I stuff my phone away and stand up, pulling my shorts up in the process while he frowns in confusion. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you.”
I haul him to his feet, ignoring the questioning look on his face. Dragging my fingers through my tangled mane of hair, I shake an ocean of sand loose, then grab his hand to lead him back to the party. As soon as we’re on the other side of the pier, the shadows melt away, replaced by the orange glow of the massive bonfire lighting up the beach.
The flames dance against the dark velvet backdrop of the endless stretch of sky, popping with purples and greens every so often as salt on the driftwood burns. There’s a certain smell when driftwood burns that’s different from anything else. It’s like the ocean itself turned to smoke and fire. I drag in a lungful of the smell and let that feeling of home wash over me again.
It takes me less than a second to spot Lux in the crowd. Towering over everyone else by a good six inches, he’s hard to miss. The fact that he sticks out like a sore thumb as the only person at a party not having a good time doesn’t hurt either. I snort at the uncomfortable scowl on his face and pick up my pace, dragging my ‘friend’ along with me.
LUX
“How tall are you?” The pocket-sized tourist asks between drunken giggles, reaching up to stroke my chest like I’m the main attraction at a petting zoo. I cringe and take a step back, not expecting the subtle maneuver to work. And, sure enough, Polly Pocket and his pint-sized friend miss the hint completely and simply flock after me, the same way they’ve been doing for the past twenty minutes.
“Six-eight,” I answer in a low rumble, squinting over the heads of a sea of men in various states of sobriety and nakedness, in search of the familiar head of sun-bleached hair.
“Oh my god,” Tiny Dancer squeals, putting the inebriated pitch of Polly Pocket’s enthusiasm to shame. “I bet you’re big everywhere.” He reaches for the front of my shorts while Polly Pocket attempts to scale me like I’m a fucking jungle gym. But his hand never makes it to its intended target.
Like a surfer angel, my very favorite person not only on Palm Island, but in the whole damn world, appears out of thin air and body checks the twink out of the way.
“Oops! Sorry, sweetie.” The fake sincerity dripping from E’s voice has me biting back laughter that’s equal parts amusement and relief.
“Who are you?” Polly Pocket stops trying to climb me and eyes the new arrivals.
Easy might as well be the king of Palm Island with his beachy blond waves and ocean blue eyes. I remember a time when he was just a pale, skinny kid, but after years of sun and surf, he’s never without a golden glow and lean muscles. I’ve never bothered to read any of the brochures that go out to attract tourists to the island, but I’m pretty sure he’s plastered all over page one.
“I’m your fairy godmother tonight,” he says with a wink, ignoring the snotty tone and the venomous looks he’s getting from both the imps I’ve been trying and failing to shake since I got to the party. The dark-haired man Easy has with him looks just as confused. E smiles at him and coaxes him closer, then turns back to the other two.
“Okay, forget the cute shit,” Easy says, dropping the sugary tone for his usual relaxed drawl. “As undeniably sexy as our friendly giant here is, he’s not into it. I’m sure he’s made that clear, but I’m going to give you both the benefit of the doubt and assume you’re either too dense or too drunk to have picked up on it. Now, Tom here—”
“It’s Andy,” the man corrects, and E’s eyebrows crease.
“Andy? Really? Sorry about that.” He pats Andy’s shoulder. “Andy here is fantastic with his mouth. I can’t guarantee that he’s interested in a threeway tonight with you horny little nymphs, but you’ve got a much better shot with him than you do with Lux. What do you say, Andy? Want to get these boys a drink and see where the night goes?”
Andy blushes in the firelight and glances over his shoulder at Easy. “I’m guessing four would be a crowd?” He eyes my best friend up and down, and guilt coils in my gut.
Duh. Of course, Easy was ‘busy’ when I texted him. I should have known better. I could have handled these two myself if I’d just sucked it up and been more direct. Or, hell, I don’t know, I could have just walked into the ocean to get away from them. Anything would have been better than fucking up E’s whole night.
His lips twitch with a half smile that probably looks apologetic to anyone who hasn’t known Easy their entire life. A fraction of the guilt melts away, and he pats Andy on the shoulder, a blatant brush off if I’ve ever seen one.
“I have a feeling you’ll have your hands full.” He gives Andy a kiss on the cheek and then lets go of him with one last little push in the direction of my admirers.
Luckily, they seem happy enough to wrap themselves around a new chew toy, stumbling off into the night without so much as a backward glance in my direction.
I let out a long, relieved breath and my shoulders sag. Without a thought, I reach for Easy and he leans into me, letting me drape an arm around him and tuck him close. I can feel the warmth from the faded sunshine still baked into his skin and clothes after a long day. The familiar smell of sugar and chocolate, the coconut of his favorite soap, and ocean salt all mix together, relaxing me all the way down to that place nothing else ever manages to reach.
“You okay?” he asks, and I nod.
“A little skeeved, but otherwise fine.” I punctuate my answer with a chuckle, so he knows it wasn’t a big deal. I knew the situation when I followed him out here to Palm Island. You don’t go somewhere as sex crazed as this and expect not to be bothered from time to time.
Men, women, or any other flavor of human being, it’s all the same to me. I’m just not interested. Most tourists can take a hint, and putting up with the occasional asshole is worth it for year-round sun and surf. There are worse places I could have followed my best friend to, that’s for sure.
“You want a drink?” he asks, nodding towards the makeshift bar Boston was smart enough to set up on the beach this year. Now tourists can leave The Sandbar, come down to one of three beaches where he has pop-up locations, and still fork their money over to him. It’s brilliant.
“Nah.” I shake my head and absently ghost my fingers over the bare skin of his arm, just below the sleeve of his t-shirt. “I might head home.”
Just because I accidentally cock blocked him with Andy doesn’t mean there isn’t still time for Easy to find some fun tonight. And he doesn’t need me hanging around for that. My eyelids feel heavy anyway. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll actually get some sleep tonight. If the tired feeling doesn’t evaporate during the walk home or as soon as I step into the quiet, empty house. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to come home after he’s done, but I bite the request back. It feels like too much to ask, too much expectation to put on his shoulders for something as silly as my own neediness.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling it tonight either,” Easy says. “Let’s go home.”
“Are you sure?” I frown and glance at the party in full swing all around us, the mix of tourists and locals that always seems to hold a special thrill for Easy. As exhausting as tourist season is, he’s like a kid on Christmas each year when it rolls around, excitedly waiting for the first full ferry of the spring to bring him dozens of new toys to play with.
“I think I’m tired.”
I always know when he’s tired. His eyes get this glassy sheen, and he slurs just a little, like he can’t be bothered to move his tongue the right way. He doesn’t seem all that tired right now, but I’m not about to argue if he feels like coming home.
I run my hand up his arm until I find my way to the back of his neck, gently sinking my fingers into the warm spot hidden under his hair. He leans into my touch and nudges me with his elbow, a wordless hint to start walking.
On Palm Island, things have a way of changing and somehow staying the same all at once. As we weave our way down the crowded beach, away from the fire, Easy waves to Ten and Bambi, swaying in the sand to the music Lyric is playing on his guitar. The two of them manage to tear their eyes off of each other just long enough to notice us and wave back before falling into another love-drunk staring contest. Goose is just a little farther down the beach, draped around his boyfriend, RePeat, both of them laughing at something Hennessey is saying. Chef Storm isn’t anywhere in sight, and I have no doubt he’s waiting for his wild little Hen to come home to him once he’s tired of being social. Boston and Trick don’t notice us as we pass them, too distracted by a heated argument they’re having that turns into a makeout session mid-insult.
Easy sighs, and I can’t quite pick apart all the layers of the single heavy exhale. Does he want what they’ve all found? Or is he just missing the days before most of our friends paired off? I’m afraid to ask in case it’s the first one. Am I holding him back from finding the kind of forever they have? A hot, jealous feeling weaves its way through my veins, and I tighten my grip on him.
I don’t care who he gets naked with. As far as I’m concerned, he can go to island-sponsored orgies seven nights a week if that’s what he wants. But the thought of someone else laying claim to the other side of his bed? My jaw ticks at the thought, and Easy squirms, laughing as he wiggles out of my grip and rubs the back of his neck.
“Easy there, Hulk.”
“Sorry,” I murmur, clearing my throat and forcing the acidic feeling down deep.
With the light and noise of the party fading behind us, the full moon overhead is the only thing illuminating the path. Not that I need a light. I’ve wandered up and down every one of these beaches in the dead of night while everyone else sleeps so many times that I know them all with my eyes closed. I have no clue whether the stories about Harold and George, the original founders of Palm Island, haunting the place are true, but I do know that on sleepless nights, I haunt the island. And I have way too damn many sleepless nights.
I spot the shape in the darkness and nod in acknowledgment, sure he sees me too.
“Sweet dreams tonight, Lux,” Raven says softly.
Easy gasps and jumps, clutching his chest dramatically as he whips his head around in search of the phantom voice. Raven’s laughter dances on the breeze, and I just grin. I don’t know if he’s a real psychic or not, but his words felt like the blessing I need to get some solid shut-eye for a change.
“I love him, but he’s creepy as fuck,” Easy mutters as we reach the road. I just laugh again, following him to where our golf cart is parked along the shoulder, one of many in a long row of decorated carts that belong to other residents.
Ten made his look like an ambulance this year, to celebrate the opening of his clinic here on the island. Boston went with a shark theme, and Goose and Pete have theirs decked out in rainbows. Easy opted for an inflatable palm tree and a pair of tastefully placed coconuts right on the roof of our cart.
