I pushed him back. “You have an endless line of girls waiting to suck your dick, Nathan. You never needed me for that.”
“No one has ever scratched that itch like you can. I know it’s the same for you or last night wouldn’t have happened.”
“It didn’t happen.”
“It can not happen anytime you like. Sex is what you and I are good at, Belle. Where we went wrong is trying to make it into something else.”
“Funny. I thought you and pesky blow jobs are where we went wrong.”
A thump threw me out of our argument.
“What are we talking about?”
I twisted, nearly smacking my head on Carter’s shoulder.
“Sex,” Nathan replied.
“My favorite topic.” Carter nudged me. “I should be mad that you gave up the game, but my mom called me last night weeping and wailing. News reached her faster than I anticipated.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before—”
“—you came up with the lie in the first place?”
I inclined my head. “Touché. All the same, looks like I won’t be the future Mrs. Knight. You’ll have to think of another evil plot.”
“Why, when the first one still works for me? All you’ve done is reopened your marriage pool. You’ll have more guys swarming now but nothing to stop me from busting out Great-Grandmother’s ring.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. Hoped.
“Nope.”
I swung to Nathan. “Don’t you have anything to say about this? You were getting drunk and raging over his announcement just last night.”
“We’ve settled our differences since then.”
“Wonderful,” I barked.
“Oooh, she’s mad,” Nathan whispered.
“Real mad.”
“I’m not mad,” I pushed through gritted teeth. “Because you don’t see your little plot still won’t work. If I’ve reopened my marriage pool, I won’t have to choose you at the end, and trust me, I’ll drown in the deepest part of the ocean before I become your wife.”
If anything, Carter’s grin widened. “So that means you’ve given in. You’re pasting on a smile, turning up the flirting, and fighting the other girls to reel in the best fish. If you don’t want to walk off this island with me, you’ll have to play the game.” He tsked. “Two days and Citrine Cove’s converted you already. So much for that speech.”
My body wound tight, zinging with coursing fury and the underlying knowledge that he was right. Bucking this silly tradition landed me Carter. But going against him meant giving in.
“Scratch that,” I said. “I forgot there’s a third option where I drown you in the deepest part of the sea.”
Carter’s laugh rolled from his chest like the water lapping at our heels. Thick. Rich. Genuine.
“Oh yeah, you’re mad.” Carter pressed his nose to my cheek. “Don’t be. Who knows, you may like being married to me. I’d let you build us a hobbit hole, provide sex on demand, and I’m told I always smell good.”
If I could beat this man with a shovel and not go to jail...
“You do,” I agreed, matching his light tone. I dropped my head, burrowing in his neck. “Today you smell like—” Sunshine. Baked Apples. Musk. “—bitterness, insecurity, and erectile dysfunction.”
Carter howled. “What does erectile dysfunction smell like?”
“Spearmint.”
“Let me assure you, Mrs. Knight, that everything is functioning perfectly down there.” He patted his package. “You can give it a test drive whenever you’re ready.”
“Both of you, disappear.”
“What did I do?” Nathan lazed—eyes closed and bronzing like a Greek statue. “He’s the one trapping you in a loveless marriage. I’m just here to close the deal on our exes-with-benefits arrangement.”
“Is there a similar ex-friends-with-benefits package?” Carter asked. “I’d like to discuss those terms.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath. “I swear. My ass is the ship and you two are the crusty barnacles.”
“Sick,” Nathan said. “Can’t we be something sexier? How about you’re the sunburn and we’re the cream?”
“Or you’re the tits and we’re the bra?” Carter threw in.
“Or we’re the—”
“Nathan. Carter. Belle.”
I’d never been happier to hear that guy’s voice.
“Thank you.” I looked over at Preston heading for us. “Take your friends, please!”
“What are they doing to you?”
“Pushing me to commit double homicide.”
Preston got within five feet of us when he was intercepted.
“Baby.” Delilah jumped in his arms. “It’s almost time to tour the orange groves. Let’s take a shower.” She giggled. “You can wash my hair.”
“No, thanks.” He put her on her feet, sidestepping her. “I’m an old-fashioned guy. No sex before the wedding night.”
“Don’t be silly.” She moved in front of him. Cupping his cheek, Delilah peppered sweet kisses on his jaw. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”
“Really?” He cocked his head. “I must’ve blocked it out. I have to practically drink myself into a stupor to get it up for you.”
My eyes bugged, but not nearly as wide as Nathan’s and Carter’s.
“Preston,” Nathan hissed. “What the hell?”
Her nails dug deep grooves in his cheek. “Ha ha. Good one, baby. Don’t think I won’t spank you for that tonight.”
Delilah was talking a nice game but the tightness around her eyes and mouth didn’t bode well. Neither did Preston’s blatant irritation.
What is with these two?
The footballers and sunbathers turned their attention to the power couple.
“Hell yeah,” he said. “You know I like that as much as you. I’ll spank you till those cheeks are red, then I’ll film you facedown and ass up, playing with yourself. Just like we always do.”
Delilah’s cheeks were already red. She looked around at those watching them.
“Oh shit,” Preston cried. “What’s wrong? I thought we were showing off and bragging about our sex life in public. You finished now?”
“Not yet.” Delilah raised her voice for everyone to hear. “You can film me as long as you wear the dress and stockings. The cross-dressing isn’t my kink, but wow does it get you excited like nothing else. You hold that tutu up with your erect cock.” She marched off, Preston in tow. “Why wait till tonight? Let’s go to bed now.”
Preston let himself be dragged. “Bye, Belle. See you at the grove.”
Blown away, I waved without thinking about it.
“Sirens,” I mumbled. “I’ll never understand your kind.”
NATHAN
Touring an orange grove is as exciting as you think.
As in not at all.
Mosquitoes dive-bombed me in all directions, so desperate for my sweet blood that they’d risk death under my smack.