Pleasure Hideaway (steamy romance)

READERS! I'm posting a new story. This is very sensual (like The Man Hunt) so it's considered erotic. I thought I'd let you all know right away. There isn't a big mystery to this story - or even huge twists and turns like you'd expect from one of my stories, but I think it's a fun story anyway. :)  ENJOY!

One

Kristine Olsen had never seen so many naked bodies in one place. Considering all the avenues her line of work took her, she didn’t expect a scene like this would shock her.

It did.

People frolicked in the pool. Bare as the day they were born and splashing as boldly as if it were midnight, they acted like a bunch of over-sexed adults. Their blemish free, perfectly tanned skin reflected the afternoon sunshine.

Then again, they didn’t call this resort Pleasure Hideaway for nothing.

She pulled away from the window and glanced around the empty reception area. Apparently, her arrival wasn’t during normal check-in hours since there was nobody here to greet her. The hallway remained quiet, so she reached into her red faux-croc handbag, pulled out her pencil and spiral notebook to jot down a few notes.

The main desk stood in the middle of the room while large potted plants and arrangements of flowers decorated the shelves. Tastefully framed pictures of outdoor scenes lined the light blue wallpapered walls. Plush color-coordinated chairs sat along the wall near the receptionist desk.

Looked like a normal lobby to her. But what had she expected? Skin magazines lying on the coffee tables or lewd photographs on the wall? No. This resort was too luxurious for that.

A burst of laughter floated in from outside and she jerked her attention toward the window. Tiptoeing over, she made her way to the scene. Adults of all ages acted like drunken college students, touching and grabbing each other without reason.

Kristine shook her head. By the looks of some of the men and a few women, gravity had already begun to curse their bodies. Some were obviously fond of plastic surgeons, too.

At first it surprised her that they weren’t younger. Then again, most young people could find sex anywhere nowadays without having to pay a lot of money for it. Yet people still insisted on coming to places like this. Places where they could hide their identities and become whomever they wanted, and have unbridled sex with whomever they chose.

Insane that people wanted to pay for something like that.

A handful of the resort’s guests had paired off and cuddled in the corners of the pool, playing the blind-man game and seeing with their hands, but most remained in the middle of the water playing volleyball. At times, Kristine wasn’t sure which bouncy object the men were trying to touch. The women were more interested in playing with some obviously large joysticks and a decidedly different type of ball.

Kristine arched a brow. At least the guests knew what they were here for. This resort was nothing less than a matchmaking service for the rich and famous...although, she’d yet to see anyone famous.

Away from the main building, a row of hut-style cabins lined the wooded area, giving a fair amount of privacy. Across the way, a golf course stood deserted in the heat of the day. She tapped the pencil eraser on her chin. Did the guests play golf in the buff, too? She hoped the gift shop stocked enough bottles of sunscreen.

Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath. So much to see, so much to write about. And so little time.

It was her job as an investigative reporter at The San Diego Tattler magazine to uncover the resort’s secrets and protect the innocent. If the very successful billionaire who owned several flourishing five-star hotels, Mr. Jonathan Hunt, led a stealthy life as a sex promoter, the public needed to know.

Behind her, the squeak of a door opening captured her attention. From down the hallway, footsteps echoed on the tiled floor, growing louder as they neared. She stuffed the notebook and pencil into her purse and stepped away from the window. Time to get in character as the snobbish rich girl whose daddy owned a well in Texas. After all, the only way a person could get into this secretive resort was to have money...and power. Thanks to her rich uncle, she was able to use his powerful name without the resort knowing what she really did for a living.