26. Chapter 26
I’d just tossed the book to Chase when my phone buzzed, alerting me to a text message. A quick glance down showed Kinsley’s name flashing across the screen. Relief hit first. At least it wasn’t Sebastian again.
I opened the thread without thinking.
KINS:
Eat your heart out.
I nearly dropped the damned phone. My mouth actually fell open as the image loaded. For a second, I considered the injustice of viewing something like this on a six-inch screen. I needed a goddamned projector. A wall. A stadium display.
Stunning didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Fuck me,” I muttered under my breath.
Every curve she typically hid under oversized tees and hoodies was laid bare in that single frame. The red against her olive skin looked stunning. There was a quiet confidence in her posture. My hand tightened around the phone as I zoomed in.
Even in my wildest dreams, I hadn’t imagined her being this sensual and alluring. I legit forgot to breathe as my eyes stayed glued to the image. She had completely captivated me with a photo, of all things.
I had seen her in a leotard. And this morning when I’d caught a glimpse of her when she scrambled out of bed half-covered and flustered. But that had been accidental. This was intentional in every way. This was her choosing to be seen.
Holy shit.
Everyone was going to see her like this. My friends. Fuck…strangers. The men scattered across the beach. Heat surged through my bloodstream so fast it left me momentarily lightheaded. It wasn’t jealousy. It was something far more primal.
Possessiveness.
The feeling was unfamiliar and completely unsettling. I’d never felt it before. Zooming in again, I traced the image with my eyes—the curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the soft lines of her stomach.
My body reacted alarmingly. All the blood in my body rushed south. My mouth went dry. A strange storm churned inside me.
No one gets to look at my princess like this.
A throat cleared.
“Oh, my God that color is amazing on you. I love that suit. Where did you get it?” Lisa asked.
I looked up from my phone. Isabella was taking the last few steps toward us, sand shifting beneath her feet. She moved slower than usual, shoulders back but chin lifted in a way that told me she was pretending to be brave.
“Geraldine’s,” she answered, stopping just short of the blanket. “It’s a boutique in London. Pasha is partial to red on me.”
God help me.
The instinct hit so fast it stole oxygen from my lungs. I stood without thinking, phone slipping from my hand to the sand. A low sound rumbled in my chest before I could stop it.
Shield her.
That was the only coherent thought. Thank God she still had her shorts on. The smallest relief flickered there—and then died when I caught Trent staring. Fucker wasn’t even being subtle.
His gaze dragged over her like he’d been starving for a week. Chase and Reggie at least had the decency to pretend they weren’t looking. Isabella’s fingers moved to the button on her shorts.
“No,” I barked.
The word came out harsher than I intended. Her pretty blue eyes snapped to me. Then they dropped immediately onto my bare chest and stayed there. Her hands froze on the button. They trembled. Then fell.
The rage rising in me was not rational. Not even a little. It was something ancient and ugly and unfamiliar. For one wild second, I understood Alek on a deeper level.
I understood now why his eyes had gone cold during the torture session with Tori’s ex. I’d thought he was leaning into the moment, caught up in things. Maybe even being overly dramatic. I judged him for it.
Now I knew. This…this rage was what he was feeling.
Control felt fragile when something or someone you valued stood exposed.
I stepped in front of her without thinking, blocking every wandering gaze I could with my body.
Words crowded my throat. Dangerous ones.
It was probably an excellent idea that words failed me.
Because what I wanted to say…was something like—
If you don’t want me to kill someone on this beach, leave those on.
I’d hiss the fucking warning in her ear, scoop her up and haul her sexy ass right back to our room. I’d follow it up with more choice words.
Does your brother know about this bathing suit? This screams Kinsley. The little mouse is fired.
The thoughts were ridiculous. Possessive and completely caveman-level insanity.
And once you get her to the room? What are you going to do then? Huh?
My cheek twitched as I tried to keep my shit together and not destroy her in the process.
Breathe, fucker, and say something nice, damn it. She’ll remember this shit for eternity.
For the first time in my life, there was an angel and devil hanging out on my shoulders. One wanted to claim. Kill. The other wanted to revel in her beauty. Share it with others.
I inhaled and willed her to look at me. When she finally did, it was like someone punched me in the gut. The confusion, insecurity, and hurt that filled her eyes crushed me. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration.
What the hell is wrong with you? Asshole.
She swallowed, and her bottom lip trembled.
I leaned in and spoke. “How many times do I need to tell you? Undressing you is my job?”
I didn’t give a shit that anyone could hear. I cared even less that it was a fucking straight-up lie. All that mattered was building her back up. One finger slid down the curve of her waist, and I marveled at the goosebumps erupting in my wake.
She trembled beautifully. My touch drifted to the waistband of her jeans. I took my time, letting the tension rise between us. My finger circled her bellybutton. She stumbled forward into my chest, gripping my forearms.
“Oh,” she breathed.
The button gave under my fingers. A steady smile settled on my face—controlled and calm. I channeled Nik’s calm, cool demeanor even as my pulse hammered. The zipper lowered inch by inch. I forced myself not to rush, not to put my hand down her pants and trail a finger down the front of her suit.
Everything in me wanted to find her sweet clit and rub it. Her thighs pressed together instinctively. I leaned even closer to whisper in her ear this time to keep it between us.
“Relax for me. You wanted them off, yeah?”
Her answer wasn’t verbal. Instead, she unclenched her thighs. The smallest shift of her stance had her hips widening beneath my hands. Our eyes locked. This time I made sure she saw what I was truly feeling.
Not the flash of temper from seconds ago, not the possessive surge that had nearly hijacked me—but the truth—desire. The tent in my shorts was probably broadcasting it clearly enough, but she seemed blissfully unaware.
“Really?” Hannah asked, somehow sounding offended. “She needs help getting undressed? What is she, a baby?”
Without looking back, I answered calmly, “Nah. That’s Kinsley. This right here is a princess. My princess.”
Amusement replaced uncertainty, and her spine straightened again. Whatever doubt had crept into her eyes vanished. Crisis averted. She widened her stand a fraction more, and the short slipped down her legs.
“I think going forward,” I murmured close to her ear, “I need to approve any outfit you plan to wear around my friends. Now be a good girl for me and step out of them.”
She obeyed. Her nails dug into my forearms as she stepped free of the denim. When I stepped back, the breath left my body in a slow exhale. Seeing her in a photograph had been one thing.
Seeing her here, with the sun warming her skin, ocean wind teasing loose strands of hair across her shoulders—that was something else entirely.
Golden and soft in places that begged to be touched, defined in others, hinting she took her workouts seriously. The curve of her stomach, somewhat contained by the red fabric, drew my attention in a way I hadn’t expected.
The silky smooth texture drove me insane. I wanted to lay her down and place my head on those curves and experience every part of her. Her thighs were thick and muscular. My gaze lingered longer than what was proper, and the longer I looked, the harder it became to maintain control.
Her breasts were stunningly displayed, nipples barely covered.
Tight buds formed as I stared. What I wouldn’t have given to untie the top and pay homage to them with my hands and mouth.
There was something so cute about the way the fabric bulged across the front where the top couldn’t quite cope with the task it had been given.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hannah drag Trent toward the water. He slid his sunglasses on, pretending indifference. Lisa and Chase followed shortly after.
“Reg,” I heard Shelia say, already rising. “I’m going to head up. This sun is a bit too much. I want to be present tonight, but I need to lie down for a while.”
Bless that woman. I breathed a sigh of relief as he offered to accompany her.
Alone. At last.
“Do I look that bad?” Isabella asked.
A stream of Russian spilled from my mouth before I could filter it—praise tangled with disbelief, admiration laced with something dangerously close to devotion. I might have even asked her to marry me at one point.
“Pasha,” she heaved, brows knitting together. “You know I can’t understand you. Can you answer in English?” Her face fell, and tears filled her eyes. “I get it. You think I’m too fat to wear a—”
The moment the words left her mouth, I grabbed her hips and hauled her against me. The thickness of my cock and the fullness of her breasts against my chest had met at the exact moment our lips did.
I didn’t need to answer with words. If she couldn’t tell what I thought about her from the steel rod in my shorts, no adjectives in the English language would convince her.
But that wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.
My mouth crashed down on hers, cutting off the absurdity before it could finish forming.