Going Hard: Divemasters, Book 3 Read online




  Going Hard

  Divemasters, Book 3

  Jayne Rylon

  Happy Endings Publishing

  Contents

  Copyright

  About The Book

  Additional Information

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Excerpt

  Naughty News

  What Was Your Favorite Part?

  Jayne’s Shop

  Listen Up!

  Get In Touch

  About The Author

  Also by Jayne Rylon

  Copyright © 2016 by Jayne Rylon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—including email, file-sharing groups, and peer-to-peer programs—without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you have purchased a copy of this ebook, thank you. I greatly appreciate knowing you would never illegally share your copy of this book. This is the polite way of me saying don’t be a thieving asshole, please and thank you!

  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Refer to the don’t-be-a-theiving-asshole section above for clarification. :)

  Edited By Mackenzie Walton

  Cover Art By Jayne Rylon

  Version 6

  ISBN: 978-1-941785-13-3

  Divemasters, Book 3

  Three SCUBA instructors, who happen to be sexual dominants, are about to take the ultimate plunge. If you’re extraordinarily lucky, you’ll be invited to join them on The Divemaster, where work and pleasure go hand in hand. Welcome aboard!

  As the last lone wolf of The Divemaster, Tosin Ellis doesn’t plan on partnering up anytime soon. Then his friend Archer commissions an engagement ring for his fiancée…

  Jeweler Kahori Akama is sensual, intriguing, and happy to accept Tosin’s help sourcing the black pearls she uses in her popular pieces. As their relationship goes from professional to personal, Tosin also learns Kahori’s family is under the threat of a blackmailer, someone intent on ruining her business to lay claim to its valuable property.

  Tosin never expected to find a single woman that could slake his sexual appetites, but Kahori surrenders to her raw and primal urges with the natural power of a typhoon strong enough to blow even a veteran sailor far off course. Once he’s experienced loving in the eye of the storm, he can’t imagine being satisfied by less.

  Once more, the crew of The Divemaster will do what it takes to protect their own. Especially Tosin, who realizes Kahori’s heart just may be his home.

  Additional Information

  Sign up for the Naughty News for contests, release updates, news, appearance information, sneak peek excerpts, reading-themed apparel deals, and more. www.jaynerylon.com/newsletter

  Shop for autographed books, reading-themed apparel, goodies, and more www.jaynerylon.com/shop

  A complete list of Jayne’s books can be found at www.jaynerylon.com/books

  Dedication

  For everyone who wishes they could travel more.

  One

  Tosin Ellis braced himself against the railing on the uppermost deck of the Divemaster megayacht. He tipped his face toward the breeze then drew fresh island air into his lungs until they threatened to pop. He loved the salty tang of the ocean, always would. Yet something about that first scent of earth after weeks surrounded by the sea overpowered his senses. Ripe with flowers and vegetation and rich dirt, it smelled like coming home.

  In fact, after a long passage—like the nearly four thousand miles they’d just finished cruising from Midway Island, west of Hawaii, to the Cook Islands, in the BFE neighborhood of the South Pacific—his nose told them land was near before they spotted it on the horizon.

  Well, his nose and Captain Alex’s trusty GPS, along with the rest of the technology onboard. The bridge of the ship looked like it could easily transport them to Mars and back. Crossing a remote stretch of ocean…pfft. No problem.

  An approaching boat carrying a welcoming committee drew his attention away from the green lump of Rarotonga on the horizon. The sense of rightness that accompanied the first indications of an approaching shoreline reminded him that although he spent a large portion of his life below the waves, guiding SCUBA divers through a marine paradise, he hadn’t yet grown gills or evolved into a merman.

  His new life goal.

  Hey, he had to dream up something even wilder and crazier to aspire to than “multimillionaire”, since Archer Banks had already helped him check that off his bucket list. He shook his head then rubbed his thumbs over the polished wood beneath them. The idea that he co-owned the Divemaster, a nearly three hundred foot luxury vessel, along with his two best friends still didn’t seem quite real.

  It had been about a year since Archer had inherited his father’s billions and transformed himself, Tosin, and Miguel from perpetual beach bums into benevolent cruisers who invited deserving people on all-expenses-paid vacations of a lifetime. Together, they made sure their visitors had a great experience while they explored whatever corner of the world the ship happened to occupy at that moment. Maybe someday Tosin would accept that he wasn’t dreaming.

  He figured he could live and work here forever without growing sick of it. Something he’d never been able to say about a place or a job before.

  Right then, though, he had visions of one thing he was lacking: a juicy cheeseburger.

  The Divemaster had ridiculous amounts of storage compared to a typical yacht, but after the lavish meals the staff had prepared during their voyage, even she had grown light. It took a lot to feed the crew, the owners, and their guests for so long. Especially to their chef’s standards.

  Gone were the days of munching a granola bar or a banana for breakfast on his way to some backwoods dive shop. No, the kitchen staff insisted that everyone involved in the Divemaster Project ate well. And he wasn’t complaining.

  Tosin had enjoyed many delicious fresh fish dinners in a row. Some of which he’d contributed to himself through the bounty of his late afternoon deep sea fishing sessions. Still, he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into a hunk of low-grade, greasy ground beef.

  If he was lucky, maybe he’d also find some female company to liven up a shared meal. Someone adventurous, willing to join him for a late-night private party in the ship’s naughtily appointed clubroom afterward, would be even better.

  Tosin observed as Captain Alex coordinated with the local harbormaster to position them as close as safely possible to the island before dropping anchor in a spot that wouldn’t damage the reef encircling the volcanic island.

  They didn’t have facilities to accommodate a ship as large as the Divemaster within the ring of coral that formed a protective barrier between the open ocean and the beachside villages of Rarotonga. So they’d anchor out here and take tenders into Avatiu Harbour.

  He should probably figure out where he’d stowed his flip-flops last time he’d come onboard, and scrounge around for a shirt. Maybe even one with buttons. Most of the time—when he wasn’t suited up in dive gear—he
roamed around in only his swim trunks. Or less.

  It felt weird to wear actual clothes anymore. Still, he’d attempt to look halfway civilized when they stumbled onto these foreign shores, trying to find their land legs again.

  Despite their inflated bank accounts, Tosin, Miguel, and Archer couldn’t claim to have gotten much more sophisticated than they’d been when they roamed the globe, hopping from place to place whenever the whim arose and they could afford plane tickets to the next destination. Not so different from what they still did, except now they took their very fancy house with them when they moved.

  Enjoying the perks of their newfound fortune, and sharing joy with as many other people as possible, held far more value to them than appearances.

  With that said, his two best friends had somehow managed to snag a pair of the hottest, toughest, smartest women he’d ever met. More miraculously, it had nothing to do with their wealth. Their constant kissy faces, shared intimacy, and genuine affection were starting to make Tosin think he might have to change his greatest ambition from becoming Aquaman into something slightly more…domestic.

  Otherwise he’d end up kicking it with Captain Alex and Banks—the manager of the Divemaster Project and the larger Banks Foundation, which consisted of the rest of Archer’s charitable holdings—when he’d reached the confirmed bachelor stage in another decade or so. Not a terrible club to join if it came to that, he thought. Those two were pretty badass dudes.

  Worse things could happen.

  He should know, since trouble had accompanied their influx of cash. They’d pulled together to survive some hairy situations. Hopefully the crazy shit—you know, like murders, kidnappings, heists, and the rest of that ridiculous stuff—was behind them so they could simply relax from now on.

  Out here, surrounded by a whole lot of not much for miles and miles and miles, Tosin was looking forward to some good old-fashioned sunning himself on the beach, dancing and drinking the night away, and maybe a hook up or two minus any drama.

  Plus diving. Always diving.

  The Cook Islands had some unique features he couldn’t wait to investigate, starting with the lagoon between the shore and the barrier reef. It was like one giant aquatic playground. The cerulean water he could now see clearly contrasted with the darker midnight of the deeper ocean beating against the coral. It couldn’t be more than ten feet deep in most places. It would be warm and teeming with sea life.

  His version of paradise, for sure.

  Overhead, the whop whop whop of a sleek helicopter taking off from the other side of the ship quickly faded as the transport zipped toward the verdant mountain that rose above the palm-dotted shore. He wished he’d planned ahead enough to grab a ride with Waverly, Archer’s girlfriend, who would be flying the staff over to start their provisioning runs.

  Less than a minute later, Archer trotted toward Tosin as if his thoughts had summoned the guy. Miguel trailed behind, joining them on the deck as the ship settled into its anchorage and the shore tenders were prepared. Time to go.

  “You heading into town?” Archer asked as he chucked a white linen shirt and Tosin’s shoes at his head.

  He caught them with hardly any effort then nodded as he put them on. “It’s probably too much to hope they have a Five Guys, huh?”

  It certainly didn’t look like a commercial sort of place from where he was standing. Large buildings or shopping malls didn’t exist here. Hell, they’d be lucky to find a supermarket. He didn’t truly mind, but he was serious about scoring some food.

  Miguel snorted. He rubbed his flat stomach. “Yeah, but I could hit up a restaurant. You in?”

  He looked to Archer, who cleared his throat before asking, “Could we make a pit stop first? While Waverly is busy helping the crew restock in the chopper, I thought we could check out the Punanga Nui Market. I hear they have a couple world renowned artists who sell their stuff there.”

  “Who’d you hear that from?” Tosin narrowed his eyes as his friend didn’t quite meet his gaze. The Cooks were remote. Hardly anyone they knew had come here before and it certainly wasn’t something he could ever remember talking about with travelers they’d run into along the way.

  “Google,” Archer admitted below his breath.

  “You were looking up art galleries? Since when are you into that, Archie?” Miguel wondered.

  Sure, the guy was technically a billionaire. He lived frugally, megayacht aside. They appreciated the beauty of nature above all else. The female form especially. Tosin would bet Archer couldn’t name any more fine artists than he could. Van Gogh, Picasso, Michelangelo, the basics.

  “I thought Waverly might be into it. I—uh, want to surprise her. If something catches my eye, I mean. I’ll know it when I see it.” Archer turned away then motioned for them to hurry. “You coming or not? Let’s go.”

  Tosin looked over at Miguel, who shrugged then said, “I’ve got nothing to do for a while anyway. Sabine is taking advantage of the better internet connectivity here to transmit her test results and hold a few videoconferences. Besides, we’ll probably stumble across someplace to eat along the way.”

  “Sounds good.” Tosin strode side by side with his friend as they both studied Archer, who hustled to the tenders as if he needed to reserve a spot on his own damn boats.

  What was up with that?

  Two

  Tosin and Miguel continued to tease Archer about his unusual desire to shop as they skipped across some pretty gnarly waves. The island grew as they approached. The peak at its center loomed overhead. Blanketed with thick foliage, the craggy core of Rarotonga was obviously uninhabitable, which pushed its relatively small population of thirteen thousand people out into a ring around its edges.

  Everything seemed supersaturated in the tropical sunlight. The bright sapphire of the water and the emerald of the trees were soon outdone by the scarlet birds fluttering around neon pink and yellow flowers they spotted as they tied up to the town dock. Used to the astounding hues of the underwater world, Tosin thought this might be one of the few places on Earth that could come close to mimicking its splendor. It was almost like when his sunglasses got smudgy and he cleaned them. Suddenly everything around him was crisp and clear and hyper-detailed.

  “The market isn’t far.” Archer ignored their snickers and took off, marching down the street in the direction he’d pointed.

  Miguel and Tosin exchanged a quizzical glance then followed at a stroll, taking more time to appreciate the landscape than their friend had. They traveled the length of the small town in only a few minutes before a cluster of tents, carts, and tables came into view.

  Tosin sniffed the air as the scent of something sweet and coconut-y reached his nose. Miguel hummed and checked out a street vendor, buying a crispy stick of fried dough covered in what looked like cinnamon sugar. That would do for starters.

  Tosin reached over and snagged the end of it, breaking it in half. “Thanks.”

  “Asshole,” Miguel grumbled, though he laughed. “It’s not like I wouldn’t have shared it with you anyway.”

  “I know. But that was more fun.” Tosin grinned as he chomped down on the treat. Flavor exploded in his mouth, making him eye Miguel’s half enviously.

  “Oh no. Go get your own if you want more.” Miguel snarfed his portion in a couple of large bites, probably to make sure Tosin didn’t steal any more of it. Wise move.

  Up ahead, Archer turned back, glowering when he realized they’d been distracted by junk food. Not that that should come as a surprise to him. He waved them closer then ducked under a pretty purple and gold awning that held a very tidy array of jewelry.

  Tosin peeled his gaze from ornate gardenia head wreaths, endless souvenirs, and the wooden Tangaroa carvings with giant dicks as he stepped inside just ahead of Miguel. He glanced up. When he saw the woman managing the stall, he nearly crashed into a display of long necklaces made of zillions of tiny pupu shells.

  Only Miguel’s fist at the back of his shirt helped steer
him clear of disaster. His friend whispered, “Settle down, buddy, or you’ll never have a shot. Better wipe those crumbs off your face, too.”

  Not the first impression Tosin would have liked to make.

  He stepped fully into her booth, swiped his hand over his mouth to rid it of any stray sugar crystals or drool, then nudged his sunglasses lower on the bridge of his nose so that he could study the woman without heavy tint obscuring any of her beauty.

  A white frangipani flower adorned her chestnut hair, which brushed the top of her perfect ass. A modified sarong—signs in other stalls they’d passed had called them pareu—wrapped her slender frame in a vibrant scarlet fabric with bold lime green leaf patterns.

  Her rich skin tone reminded him of the oiled teak that dominated the interior of the Divemaster. It made his fingers itch to touch her. The exotic features of her striking face held an Asian flair made even more beautiful by her Māori ancestry. Lush lips and a bold nose kept her from appearing too delicate. He’d give her a solid seventeen on a scale from one to ten.

  Despite her striking appearance, it was her smile that nearly burned out his retinas. Warm and welcoming, as pristine as the environment surrounding them, she could easily have been some Oceania goddess.

  Immediately, he knew what he wanted to take home. Her.

  Damn.

  “Good afternoon. Can I help you?” She hadn’t even noticed Tosin, her greeting aimed at Archer instead. That bastard.

  Tosin attempted to focus by peering into the jewelry boxes propped on the tables around him instead of at her gorgeous face. Wow. It really was awesome. Everything he looked at called to him. Reminded him of the ocean and the wondrous things he admired beneath the surface. Carved shells, pearls of all hues, coral—she’d used a variety of nature’s beauty to make her art.