Taylor
My head felt a little fuzzy and there was a dull ache settling behind my eyes when I blinked them open. Sunlight poured in through the window and I pulled the blanket over my head to block it out. I wanted to just go back to sleep, but the bottle of water I chugged last night before passing out was pressing on my bladder insistently. Thank God Dalton had thought to bring it to me along with some medicine. I’d be in even worse shape if he hadn’t. At the thought of Dalton, I removed the cover from my face and glanced at the spot next to me. Empty.
My heart sank. He didn’t come to bed again last night. He was avoiding sleeping with me. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe we both needed a little space. I certainly needed to get my head on straight and stop fantasizing about him finally realizing he was madly in love with me and taking me to bed. I tiptoed into the main living area and saw Dalton curled up on the couch. He was most definitely too tall to be sleeping on it, but I wouldn’t let myself feel bad for his discomfort. He had a perfectly good king-sized bed to sleep in if he so chose. It was his own damn fault if he wanted to be scrunched up on the couch.
I grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge and quietly prepared a slice of toast. My stomach felt okay, but I wasn’t going to test the waters by putting anything too heavy on it after a night of drinking. After my simple breakfast, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before dressing in my favorite swimsuit. I’d purchased it just for this trip. It was a little skimpier than what I normally wore, but I’d always heard people were more relaxed and accepted the sight of a little more skin once you got outside the States.
I slipped into the Brazilian-cut bottoms and stood with my back to the full-length mirror, turning to look over my shoulder. It was a little out of my comfort zone to wear something like this, but I was pleased with how it looked. I typically worked out a few times a week and did hundreds of squats, so my butt was firm and round. The top was your average bikini top with thin straps, lined and slightly padded cups with underwire, and a back closure. I coated myself in sunscreen, grabbed my towel, and headed out to my lounger.
If Dalton wanted to join me when he woke up, he could, but I wasn’t going to go out of my way to get him out here. An hour later, he appeared at my side, dressed in board shorts and holding a white paper bag from the cafe down the street.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Depends,” I responded playfully, and his lips quirked.
“On what?”
“Whatcha got in the bag?” I swung my legs around and sat up on the side of my chair. He opened it, the paper crinkling between his hands, and pulled out a beignet.
“Oooh, gimme!” I reached for it and he gave it up easily. “Mmm,” I moaned, devouring the powdered sugar covered ball of fluffy fried dough. Beignets were my favorite. Did he know that somehow, or was this a happy coincidence?
“Chocolate milk?” he asked as he held out a small sealed plastic bottle.
“Thank you.” It was like he read my mind.
We ate our sugar laden breakfast — my second breakfast — in silence. Once all the pastries and chocolate milk were gone, I offered to take all our trash inside and dispose of it. When I came back out, Dalton was spraying himself with sunscreen on the patio. I turned to shut the door behind me and heard him let out a low curse. Assuming he must have gotten some of the spray in his eyes, I turned quickly, ready to retrieve some water for him to flush it out. I wasn’t prepared for what greeted me instead. Dalton’s dark gaze seared into me, heating my skin. I shrank back into the corner of the patio as he stalked toward me.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he growled, stopping only inches from me.
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. Ninety percent of your ass is on display for anyone to see.”
His chest was heaving and so was mine, but his breath was coming hard and fast from anger, mine from arousal. Or maybe it was the other way around. He looked at me like he wanted to spank my ass and send me to bed for being defiant. Or so he could ravage me. The heated look in his eyes had my thighs clamping together, but his words made me spitting mad. Who the fuck does he think he is?
“It’s a bathing suit,” I seethed.
“It’s a thong,” he snapped.
“Wrong,” I countered. “They’re Brazilian cut,” I corrected him.
His eyes flashed down my body and I knew what he was thinking. Was there anything else on my lower body that was Brazilian?
“You’re practically naked,” he growled, and the sound sent a pulse of arousal straight to my core. He leaned in closer, bracing his palm against the wall behind me. My heartbeat skyrocketed, the anticipation of a kiss stealing my already panting breath. “The only thing I can’t see is your ass crack.”
His crass statement should have smothered the flames of my lust, but all it did was fan them. I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t ask if he wanted to see that, too.
His eyes moved to my mouth and I realized it wasn’t my tongue I was biting, but my lip. He closed his eyes and leaned away from me, removing his hands from the wall. Taking a step back, he let out a pent-up breath and scrubbed his hands over his face.
“I thought after what happened the other day, you’d be more careful about how much of your,” he stumbled for a second, swallowing thickly against what he wanted to say, “body you put on display.”
I scowled and shoved past him. I wasn’t going to let him shame me for wearing what I wanted. It didn’t matter what his reasoning was, whether it was because of my brother or his misguided need to protect me. There was no way I was changing for him. If someone wanted to look at the perky little ass I worked hard for, let them. Look, but don’t touch. That was my policy.
Except when it came to Dalton.
I flopped back down in my chair and shoved my sunglasses back down over my eyes. I was pouting. He made me feel small and self-conscious, and damn if that didn’t turn me into even more of a brat. Maybe tomorrow, I would wear a thong. And go topless. See how he liked that.
He sidled up next to my chair and stared out at the ocean. I sat as still as a statue waiting to hear what he had to say. He took in a breath like he was preparing to speak, then let it out on a long sigh. Shaking his head, he walked into the ocean and dove under the water.
I adjusted my chair so it was flat and flopped over onto my stomach. It was time to turn over anyway, but it was also a satisfying way of giving him the middle finger by showing the barely covered ass cheeks he was just complaining about.
***
Dalton
I screwed up. Son of a bitch, I couldn’t get anything right. Why did I have to open my big mouth and criticize Taylor’s swimsuit?
I supposed because it was either that or rip it off her body and bend her over so I could see what lay hidden beneath that tiny scrap of fabric.
Why was I suddenly acting like a close-minded caveman? That wasn’t me. I didn’t tell women what they could and couldn’t wear, so why was I treating Taylor like that? Maybe it was because I felt responsible for her. Aiden asked me to look after her and keep her safe, and I was afraid some dirtbag would get the wrong idea and try something with her if she was too exposed.
The more likely explanation was one I didn’t want to admit. I wanted her for myself. I wanted to be the only one who got to see her like that. I wanted to be the only person with access to her most intimate parts. But she was off limits. Aiden made that perfectly clear.