“Stop being dramatic.” I swiped at his arm, but my fingers grazed across his chest. A shudder ran through me. Damn, his muscles were like granite.
His frown deepened. He looked over at our captain. “How deep is that water?” he asked in perfect Spanish.
“He said it was about twenty feet deep, right, David?” I interrupted.
Brutus narrowed his eyes on me. “You speak Spanish.” Not a question, an observation.
“Si.” I nodded. “As do you.” I lifted on my tiptoes and turned my head up to his.
His lips brushed across mine. In the few hours we’d been on this boat, that was something that had become commonplace. I beckoned kisses, and he obliged without hesitation, even as he continued to frown.
He peered over my head, his long arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into him. “Has anyone ever been killed doing this shit?” His voice came out in a growl.
“No,” David quickly answered. “Of course not.” He laughed as if the thought alone were ridiculous.
Brutus’ body tightened. “Am I laughing? Do you know how many people die each year doing crazy shit on vacation?” he demanded.
I pulled back, but not entirely free from his body, as his arm held firmly around my waist. “Don’t scare the man. He’s our captain. And I’m sure he’s done this hundreds of times. Right, David?” I peeked over my shoulder at our captain.
“Yes.” He nodded vigorously. “Of course, of course. Very safe.”
“See?” I turned to Brutus.
His frown disappeared but that warning in his eyes remained.
“I’m doing this jump,” I told him, finally pushing out of his hold.
“Not without me beside you,” he quickly asserted, taking my hand.
The smartass part of me wanted to argue. But my logical thinking side reminded me just how much I wanted him beside me at all times. Let alone when I would be cliff jumping. Technically, we weren’t jumping off a cliff, but it was close enough.
I smiled up at him. “Good.”
The tension in his body eased. We exited the boat and followed the line of other cliff jumpers, noting the instructions from the tour guides.
“Make sure your life vest is on securely,” Brutus instructed while taking it upon himself to ensure my already secured vest was on correctly.
I swatted his big hands away and adjusted my vest. “This is going to be so much fun.” I bounced on my toes, grateful for the water shoes that protected my feet from the jagged edges of the rocks.
“That’s my group ahead,” a man said from behind me. Before I could turn around, I was jolted aside, almost to the edge of the rock. My saving grace was a ledge of the rock that raised a bit, catching my foot, keeping me from tumbling over the side.
Brutus’ arm was there, also preventing my fall.
“What the—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I gasped when I saw that Brutus had his entire hand wrapped around some man’s neck. My hand clasped over my mouth as I looked down to see that the man’s feet dangled a few inches off the ground.
“Brutus,” I called.
“You could’ve knocked her into the damn ocean, you piece of shit,” he growled. He shook the man by the neck, and I heard people behind me gasp.
“Brutus, please,” I whispered, realizing this must’ve been the man who shoved me.
He looked over at me. “Are you all right?” His voice was so tender and full of care, as if he wasn’t still holding a man like a ragdoll by the throat. He ran his free hand down the length of my arm.
“I’m fine,” I hurriedly assured him.
