His big hands cup my shoulders, and he’s overpowering, dangerous in his masculinity…except this isTristan. In this moment I realize I’ve never trusted a man like I trust him, and there’s a reason for that. I trust him with my body, because he saidno. I trust him with my soul, because he is solid, sincere, and unwavering in the way he approaches life, friendships, people, and how he chooses to live. As for trusting him with my heart… It can’t break twice, can it?
“Tristan?”
He searches my eyes, looking desperate. “Jesus Christ, Lexi. Are you okay? Did anybody ever?—”
“I’m fine. And no, nothing’s ever happened, but I’ve got a couple of colorful stories to tell, if you have time.”
Tristan drops his forehead to mine. “Babes…” He hugs me, and this feels so warm, so right, full of such a promise ofus, that I almost cave in to my desire to weep for everything lost in our years apart. Instead, I lean into him.
“I swear, I’ll kill him if helooksat you again,” he whispers, his words making my heart gloat.
Oh yes, this is Tristan, protector to the core. My hands sneak up his chest as I chuckle. “Please don’t off any of our guests. That’s the quickest way to get fired, and then we’re both screwed.”
There’s a smile on his lips as he runs them up the shell of my ear, setting my skin on fire. I sink deeper into his arms. “It will be worth it,” he murmurs.
He isn’t doing anything but moving his lips slowly across to my temple, but every lady bit of mine chants,Yes, please. More, please.
“You have to admit it’s kind of funny.”
“What?” he murmurs.
This could so easily devolve into something I’ve wanted since the day I walked in on him at Evan’s house. Seems Tristan can keep his kidneys—we’ve gotten ourselves here, so no sacrifice necessary—but I still want his cock. I giggle against his neck, where my lips are hovering, hesitant to make the first move. “We’ve been invited to a threesome, but…we’re not even a twosome.”
“Hmm…” Tristan hums, laughter shallow in his throat, but he cuts it off. He lifts his head and looks at me, his brown eyes all-consuming. His gaze melts away my willpower. It looks as if he wants to kiss me, as if he’s going to kiss me, and I want him to kiss me so badly.
“I’m dealing with this dickhead.” Tristan presses the softest, warmest, and sweetest kiss possible to my forehead. “You call it a day.” His palms run down my arms, and with a last squeeze ofmy hands, he turns me toward our cottage and gives me a pat on the ass to send me on my way. “See you later, babes.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
TRISTAN
That was a layered mindfuck if ever there was one. The feel of Lexi’s body against mine is still hot on my skin, her sweet scent freshly stamped in my memory. When she said, “We’re not even a twosome,” I wanted to tease, “We’re working on that.”But then I froze, becausewhat am I doing?I’ve been out of control since this morning, but I still know this fake engagement of ours has never included that plan. But I’m fooling nobody here. Plans change. Plus, I let that wand of hers run out of battery and calmly packed it away in her bedside drawer.
Then that skunk came up to us. This guy arrives on this island and thinks the women are here for his taking? Jesus Christ, it never crossed my mind that a guest would so callously suggest a threesome. My mind short-circuits at the idea. Sharing Lexi?Watching someone elsetouchher? I fist my hands as my stomach takes a plunge like I just dropped forty stories in an elevator.
I can’t afford to be more riled up by the situation than I already am, but I’m sticking around until that jerk is back from his cruise. I drag my hands through my hair and go scout aroundfor guests to make sure everybody is happy. That’s what Lexi would do at this hour.
I head out to the beach, where the ocean breeze is cooling off the early evening and ensuring that the bugs keep inland. Staff has set up inviting circles of bean bags and short-legged tables with snacks where couples can sit and enjoy the sunset, drinks in hand. They do pull out all the stops here. I walk past a few couples, and one guy, who has been diving every day, motions for me to join them. We talk diving and sightings for a full hour, until the boat returns with the other guests. I excuse myself and walk up to where that blond dickhead is wading out of the shallow water.
It’s almost dark, but I can see he recognizes me. “That was a nice cruise,” he says pleasantly.
“Yeah? Good. What’s your name?” I ask as I step with him out of earshot of other guests.
“Matthias de Foch.”
He has a slight Dutch accent, and his tone suggests I should have known his name. “Foch?” I repeat. “That’s two letters away fromfuck.”
Matthias laughs. “Never thought of it like that.”
“Yeah, what De Fuck?” I smile back, but it’s a snarl. “Here’s the thing, De Foch. If you so much asfuckwith Lexi or any of the other staff here, female or male, in single format or multiples, whatever, rest assured that a diving accident will come your way.”
His smile turns like a jug of milk: sour. “And who do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy who’s going to make sure you get off this island in one piece, in a body bag or in a seat on that floatplane. Your choice.”
Matthias gives an incredulous chuckle. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’d be too dead to be surprised,” I counter.
