Page 31 of Hostile Cravings
“How am I supposed to walk to the beach?” My frustration with him was returning, and it felt good.
“You can barely walk in bare feet. Wearing those things will break that goddamn ankle.”
I put my hand on my hips, pouting my lip.
“Keep that lip out like that and I’ll put it to use.”
“Fuck you, Raines.”
“I already had a piece of that, baby. Save it for later.”
I grumbled as I walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll save it for some hot guy on the beach.”
He had his hand locked on my arm before I could make it any further. Twisting me around, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder.
“Put me down, Tyson!” I hit his back, but he only laughed, sliding the material of my suit over and rubbing my ass before he smacked it.
“Ouch!”
“Damn, I like that ass,” he said, leaving the room.
“I need to finish getting ready,” I complained.
Tyson’s man followed us down the hall, talking into an earpiece.
“I believe I told you no more makeup.”
“But—”
“No buts. That shit’s going in the trash when I get back.” He gave my ass another smack and his man tried to hide his smile. I shot him a dirty look, but his grin only grew. By now, a second man had joined him, both of them getting a good laugh out of my position.
“Damn it, Tyson, my suit is coming off.” The tie had loosened precariously, and I knew when he put me down, I’d be flashing anyone in sight.
“You’d better make sure you have those tits covered when I put you in that sand or I’ll be burying anyone who sees them.”
With a sigh, I decided it wasn’t worth complaining anymore.Besides, his last comment held a sweetness to it I was sure only I picked up on. I clung to his back, ignoring the stares of the people in the lobby and shooting dagger eyes at the resort manager as we passed her. Tyson was mine now and if the bitch so much as looked at him, I’d scratch her eyes out.
The thought was a foreign one, and I wasn’t sure when this possessive need to have Tyson to myself had surfaced, but now that it was there, I wasn’t letting it go. Just like I wasn’t letting him go, no matter how that idea challenged everything I was.
Chapter Nine
TYSON
Angie Donelli. The woman I’d despised for years was now a woman I’d kill for. As hard as I’d fought my need for her, she’d broken me. I’d taken her repeatedly, unable to stop touching her as if I was making up for all the years that I hadn’t. Even now I wanted to pick her back up and slam her against the side of the resort and hear her cries. To have her body crumble with mine.
I squeezed the glass, trying to calm my thoughts as I waited for the bartender to fix Angie’s drink. A damned girly drink and, of course, it was a pink. Just like her damned bikini, the one that showed almost all of that sexy body to anyone who was looking. And they were looking.
“Boss,” Finch said, moving next to me. “We’ve got a problem.”
I picked my eyes up from the bar, my brow cinching. “What kind of problem?”
“The male kind. Your wife seems to have attracted some attention.”
I’d left her for ten minutes and she couldn’t keep herself contained. The thought of her flirting with another man sent avenomous sting of jealousy into my system. She was likely doing it to get back at me for not answering her question. What were we now? It was a question I couldn’t answer because I wasn’t ever a ‘we’. There was never a time when a woman was more than satisfaction, a means for release, for escape. But Angie was different, and she knew it, just like I did. I just wasn’t certain if I was ready for that difference, and I suspected from her reaction that it was the same for her. Both of us had kept sex separated from anything that could hurt us. And now we’d crossed that divide. I know I had.
I glanced back at the beach. She was still under the umbrella where I’d placed her, her luscious body spread out on the blanket, her blonde hair dark in the umbrella's shade. She had her knee at an angle, and I remembered how soft the skin had been as I’d touched and licked it. Even the thought of it made me hard.
“Shit,” I muttered, adjusting myself and throwing some cash to the bartender, who had finished her drink. I motioned for Finch to take hers and I grabbed my scotch, casually walking back to where two college age boys were standing over her. Their eyes were all over her and I gritted my teeth, wishing I could pull my gun out and shoot them both.
