Guilty Pleasure by Kevin Dickson

Author:Kevin Dickson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imprint

CHAPTER 19

KARA INCHED ALONG MALIBU ROAD and looked at the parking signs with all their conflicting instructions. Mason had assured her that parking was easy if you read the signs carefully. After too many mistakes in the tow-away zone that is West Hollywood, avoiding being towed had become a new obsessive compulsion. Surprisingly, it looked like she could legally park here, on this sandy stretch of road, until tomorrow morning.

She pulled a large Fendi bag from the backseat. It contained five changes of clothes, including some fetish underwear that she’d called in from Trashy Lingerie. And a whip that she’d found at an adult store off the 101 on her way here.

She laughed at the ludicrousness of it: one of the world’s most bankable stars being so submissive, and at the same time, how much she liked being able to boss a man around. It was sexy.

She got out of the car and locked it, and then looked at the line of houses that blocked her view of the beach. Mason had told her to take the coastal access path and then walk back along the beach since he was sure that Felicity had people watching the house. She spied a sand track disappearing between two fences and looked down at her strappy Hundreds sandals. Those four-inch heels were not going to work on soft sand. She crossed the road and slipped them off. After looking left and right to make sure nobody was trailing her, she started down the path, her hand pulling the ’fro in so that it didn’t get caught in the branches of a low-hanging oak. Once she cleared the tree and looked up, she stopped dead. The sun was just about to slip over the horizon, but it wasn’t going without a fight. Beams of orange and fuchsia were shooting across the Pacific, catching little clouds and turning them into neon cotton candy.

Kara ran the last fifteen yards and dropped her shoes and bag on the sand, expertly drawing her phone from her pocket, thumbing it open, and reversing the camera as she ran. She fired off several shots of the sunset itself, then started on some selfies. She pulled off almost fifty different looks, then set her phone to timer, resting it against some driftwood while she did a suite of full-length shots, all backlit by the dramatic sunset.

When she was sure she had enough stills, she opened Snap and began filming.

“Hey, Snappers,” she said, pouting and using the sun’s glow to silhouette her Afro, “It’s yo girl K hurr at a little beach you might a’ heard of. Havin’ a Baywatch moment.”

She stopped filming and typed “#baywatchmoment” and “#karajones” and uploaded it. As the sun dropped even farther, the sky alternated from pink to orange. It was like the air around her had become alive, visible.

“Girl, this is beautiful,” she said aloud. The beach, if you could call it that with all the rock barriers and immaculate lawns covering most of the sand, was deserted.

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