by Demi Alex
Maybe, but what would that say about them understanding her needs? Squat.
“Look, she may know what her body wants, but she’s not the kind of person to hook up easily. She’s probably tired from a full day of work on jet lag. Needs to rest.”
“And what if she goes missing again?”
“She won’t.”
Those fucking words came back to bite him in the ass an hour later.
Bethany was nowhere to be seen.
Done with his freddo cappuccino, Justin reached for the one he’d ordered for Bethany, the one that remained untouched, and pushed the almond cookie around the plate. He looked back at her closed door. It wasn’t opening.
“You sure she’s still here?” Paul said, voicing Justin’s worry. “She could have snuck out when we went in to change.”
What were they? In high school?
Justin walked to her door and knocked.
Nothing.
Paul came over and shouldered him to the side. He tried the knob.
Nothing. It was locked. “Now what?”
“She said she needs space. We give it to her,” his mouth said, but his mind disagreed—strongly.
Go after her, you asshole.
“It’s only fair. She’ll find us before dinner,” he said aloud.
Or someone else will find her, and you’ll be without her all night.
“Not with you on this one,” Paul said, trying the shutters. Shutters were locked, too. “She was pissed, and justifiably so. Yet, she has no problem giving us some of our own medicine, smiling sweetly, and throwing that friend shit and dudes in our face.”
Paul had a point. She did smile sweetly. Later, dudes. She’d corralled them deep in the friend zone and had vanished. Again.
“She’s not that kid anymore, Justin. She’s not waiting around or pulling petals off of daisies looking for love. Either we’re there for her or someone else is.”
“We’re there,” he said, wiping his palm down his face. “Yup, we’re there,” he repeated, unwilling to accept someone else being there for her.
* * *
But they had no idea where there was.
She didn’t return to the room, so at ten o’clock they went for dinner on the terrace and scarfed down…Justin couldn’t even remember what they’d eaten. He was once again disappointed when she wasn’t in her room when he’d knocked on her door hours later, morning coffee in hand.
“I’m going to work,” Paul announced, coming out of their room and finding him sitting at the little table, now positioned between the two suites. “You go to work. We’ll get through to her.”
* * *
Almost twenty-four hours of not seeing her had passed when she breezed into his office in a tiny pair of denim shorts and a painted-on white Mykonos tank top. “Hey, J. How’s it going?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat, not sure if he should jump her right then and there and put an end to the cat and mouse game they were playing, or feel happy because she was clearly enjoying herself.
Fuck. She was acting the part of a cheery tourist.
“I see you found Paradise Beach,” he said, letting his gaze drift to her breasts.
“Oh, yes. It was amazing,” she gushed. “And Super Paradise was awesome. Got this shirt half price.”
Probably because they only used half the material needed to make it, he thought.
“Nice,” he said, forcing his voice to sound easy. “Paul and I were talking about dinner in town. What are you in the mood for?”
“Aw, thanks. But Christo invited me to join the staff supervisors at their weekly get-together. He says the casual nights have done wonders for them. We’re meeting up and heading out in a few minutes.”
He wasn’t good with her going out in half a shirt with Christo.
Leaning forward, he pushed up on his knuckles, and rose from behind the desk to tell her so, but didn’t get the chance. She leaned in, touched her lips to his cheek, and wiped all thoughts from his mind.
“Have fun tonight,” she said, turning on her heels and walking toward the door. She fluttered her fingers over her shoulder. “Maybe we can do lunch tomorrow.”
* * *
“Lunch tomorrow.” Paul didn’t bother to mask his annoyance and his golden eyes went dark. “We’ve been relegated to lunch now?”
They were back in their room, meeting before dinner as they’d planned, but they were alone. No Bethany to share the afternoon almond cookies with.
“By the time I’d recovered and went after her, she was out of sight. I heard the rev of a motorcycle, and then saw her on the back of the Ducati.”
He’d also seen the way Christo had leaned back, rubbed his palm over her thigh, and spoke against her mouth—which just happened to reach over his shoulder. How could lips reach so fucking far?
She’d placed her hands on his hips, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and her long waves swept down her back as she laughed harder than he’d seen her do in ages. Then the damn lothario pulled out his best move, and the front wheel left the ground. Bethany pasted her breasts to his sculpted back and wrapped her arms around his chiseled chest, clearly enjoying the fucking ride.
“Fucking Christo picked her up on the Ducati,” Paul said.
Christo better not be fucking.
“Did he pop his wheelie?”
Grudgingly, Justin nodded. The Ducati was Christo’s definite chick magnet and his preferred mode of transportation to their beds.
“Look, she wasn’t dolled up in a slinky dress or in her business clothes, so they’re probably not going out for long. For Pete’s sake, she was wearing cutoffs when she got on the bike. The night out can’t mean much to her if she didn’t take the time to get all dolled up,” Justin said, trying to not only convince Paul, but himself.
“Cutoffs and a see-through tank top,” Paul growled.
“I said white. Not see-through.”
“Right. Like the clubs and bars in Paradise Beach don’t have wet T-shirt contests.” Shaking his head, Paul tossed his own shirt across the room and strolled toward the shower. “You’re the one who said she’s super competitive. She’s going to win all those fucking contests.” Then he stopped and turned to look at Justin. “I know where they’re going.”
“Where?” Justin asked, stripping out of his own clothes and walking toward the shower.
“Enigma. They were talking about it yesterday.”
Justin shoved his partner into the shower and walked in behind him.
“Get in. Get out. No fucking around. We’re done waiting. She wants benefits. We give her the damn benefits. You and I. No one else.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You look gorgeous,” Christo breathed against Bethany’s ear. “Certain body parts of half the bar patrons are standing up and saluting.”
She smacked his bicep, but couldn’t keep from giggling. “I feel sorry for any woman you set your sights on. She won’t stand a chance against that panty-melting grin.”
“Spent years perfecting the technique,” he teased, snaking his arm around her lower back. Pressing his chest to hers, he dipped her, and covered her body with his, as the dance ended.
Bethany liked him, really liked him, and so she didn’t like the way her thoughts pulled her out of the moment with this great guy and kept veering to two stubborn-ass men that had her insides tied in knots. She also didn’t like the idea of possibly leading Christo on, even if he was the mastermind of the dance scene and had insisted he knew where her heart was.
“Hate being a cock block,” she said in his ear. The music was loud and the massive amount of voices in the air weren’t conducive to a civilized conversation.
“Did you say cock block?” Christo asked, smirking and failing to control his laughter. He smoothed his large hands down her arms and pulled her into a tight hug. “You’re too cute. I can totally understand why those malakes are overwhelmed.”
“
I’m serious. I feel bad,” she said, but didn’t take her hands off his muscled arms. “There are a lot of beautiful women here. You’re single. I’m the cock block, because I’m standing in the way of you having a good time tonight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, koukla. I’m having a wonderful time.” He smoothed a thick finger over the bridge of her nose and kissed the tip. “I’m enjoying getting to know you. You are a pleasure. Have a sister for me?”
“Ha! Sure do.” Sheridan would drive the big Greek he-man insane. She spun to the rhythm of a catchy new song, sang hey nah nah nah nah, and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she threw him a playful kiss.
Christo pretended to catch the kiss in mid-air, place it inside his shirt, close to his heart, and then danced up behind her, fitting his groin to her ass and flattening his large palms over her the top of her pelvic bone.
“They’re here, aren’t they?” she asked, feeling the tingles move up her spine.
“They sure are,” he confirmed, smoothing her hair off her shoulder and nuzzling her neck. “I suggest you blush prettily, koukla.”
“Done, kouklo.”
“No.” He stopped dancing, turned her against his body and looked down at her. “You don’t call me kouklo.”
“Why?”
“It’s too pretty. Don’t like it.”
“Okay, stud.”
“Better,” he said, fitting his thigh between hers and moving them to the rhythm.
* * *
“Fucking shit. They’re grinding like there’s no tomorrow. There. By the DJ,” Justin said, making to walk past their selected table and to the dance area.
Paul reached for his arm and held him back. “Wait. Something is off.”
“What?”
“Trust me, Justin. Let’s sit down and order our drinks.” Paul motioned for Justin to slide over the plush loveseat. “Think about it. Has Christo ever shown such blatant interest in a woman?”
“She’s not a normal woman,” Justin argued. “If he played it cool, someone else would swoop right in and steal her from under his nose.”
“Bingo!” Paul pointed his index finger at his cousin. “He’s keeping the other guys away. And he’s trying to tell us something, and he’s not being as ‘almost-subtle’ as he was yesterday.”
Years of summertime “watch-and-learn how the ladies should be treated” instruction flashed through Paul’s mind, and he was certain that his cousin wasn’t moving in on his woman. Christo was keeping her safe while forcing Paul to come to his senses.
“It’s one of Christo’s lessons,” he said
“His notorious Romeo lessons?” Justin asked, realization dawning on his face.
“Exactly.” Paul stretched his arm over Justin’s shoulders and played his fingers through the hair at his nape. “And it fucking worked. It got us worked up and worried.”
“And it got us here,” Justin said, nodding in agreement.
“Sit back and enjoy the show, babe. We’ll never have a sweeter view of that dance floor. She sure looks good out there.” He adjusted the room in his pants, placed his right foot on his left knee, and pulled Justin in for a kiss.
“I’m so freaking blessed you walked into that cafeteria all those years ago.”
“Back at you,” Justin said, brushing his lips over Paul’s mouth. “Love you, Paul.”
“Love you more.”
They settled back on the seat and watched Bethany work the dance floor like she’d been dancing in Mykonos’s hottest clubs for years. Her shorts rode up just right, showing a perfect amount of rounded ass cheek. The tank didn’t allow for a bra, so her breasts bounced beautifully with the music, and as the night heated up, a slick sheen of perspiration coated her freshly tanned skin.
“She’s so damn beautiful,” Justin said, biting his lower lip. “It’s not about being jealous of someone else having her anymore. I want her with us.”
“I’m right here with you,” Paul agreed. “She’s safe. And she’s having fun. Give her a few more dances and we’ll go get her.”
The Adele song “Send My Love to Your New Lover” played, and a shot girl sidled up to Paul, blocking his view of the way Bethany’s curves carried the tune. Paul waved off the artificial DDD blonde, who didn’t take no very well, but he managed to finally shift her to the side by slipping a five into her tip belt. He looked past her, once again connecting with Bethany swaying her hips and singing the chorus.
She looked straight through the crowd and into Justin’s eyes.
Bethany wiped the back of her hand beneath her eyes, and he realized she wasn’t wiping at sweat. She was crying.
“Go,” Justin said, as Paul rose from his seat and raced to the dance floor. “I’m not letting go of anything.”
Christo had already gathered her into his arms and was kissing the top of her head, when Paul reached her and closed his fingers around her wrist.
“Come over here. You don’t get to send it. Give him your love yourself.” Paul cupped her head, held her against his heart, feeling guilty for loving the way she fit to him as her body trembled.
Justin smoothed his knuckles down her cheek, and urged her to look at him.
“No tears, love. No more tears.” Hauling her against him, he cupped her face, bent his head, and claimed her mouth, crushing her lips and thrusting his tongue past them, leaving no question on how much he truly wanted her. “Tears were the only reason I stayed away, love. The only reason. So no more tears. Please.”
Paul looked at them, really looked at them, and everyone else faded away. His partner placed little kisses along the line of her lips, licking over every swollen bit, and finally sinking into her pretty mouth with tenderness only a true lover possessed. Tenderness Paul knew, and tenderness he wanted for Bethany.
Justin lifted his head and met Paul’s gaze, communicating their agreed intent and desire. If she wants our love, we’re going to love her.
He turned Bethany toward Paul, and Paul placed his hands over Justin’s, their fingers spread and alternatingly stroked over the softness of her jaw as Justin slipped his hands down the side of her throat and moved to her shoulders.
Paul lowered his head, slowly sweeping his tongue over her lips, gently closing his mouth on hers, and pulling her quivering body into his embrace.
“Come home with us, baby. We have things to see to.”
She nodded.
“Love, I’m trusting you to know what you want on this one.” Justin brushed his thumb over her cheek and swept away the last tear. He tucked her against his side, his lips on her hair. “Because I want everything. And I want anything you want. Anything.”
With those loaded words, Paul knew his partner had placed his heart on the line for all to see. Justin loved her. He’d do anything for her. Including risk his own heart.
Paul glanced at his cousin, who lifted his chin in understanding. They said goodbye in Greek, and Paul followed Justin and Bethany through the crowd.
Once outside, Paul lifted Bethany into his arms, cradled her against his chest, and carried her to the car.
“I can walk,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “I need this.”
Handing the keys to Justin, he gathered her close and folded his body into the back seat, fitting her in his lap, and instructing Justin not to force the gears since they were driving downhill.
“I got this,” Justin replied, starting the car. “Take care of Bethy.”
“Done,” he said, smoothing back her hair and touching his lips to her forehead. “You see what you do to me, baby? I’m letting Justin drive just so I can keep touching and holding you.”
She laughed and kissed the underside of his jaw. “Thank you. You’re truly sweet and brave.”
He’d never been called sweet, so he wasn’t sure how accurate that was. And as Justin stepped on the gas and the car lurched, he wasn’t so sure how brave he was either. He quest
ioned his sanity over letting Justin drive. He chuckled and lowered his face between her breasts.
“Or maybe I need a lobotomy.”
“It’s less than a mile,” she said, her voice soothing, and her fingers playing with the hair at his nape. “I kind of like where I am.”
“Me, too, koukla mou.” He sank his hands into her hair and pushed it off her beautiful face. “I’m sorry, but I’m not strong enough to keep our agreement and give you the space you asked for. Agreement or not.”
“An agreement made without my input,” Justin said from the front seat. “Sweetheart, we’ll take anything you give us.”
“We can’t give you any more space. My body knows what it wants, Justin knows what he wants, so I really hope your body still wants the same.”
“No more talk. Let him drive,” she said, burrowing into him and confirming they were all on the same page.
* * *
Justin drove into a parking spot and pulled on the hand brake. He would take anything they gave, for as long as they were willing to give it, to have them together. But fuck, it sucked to be so out there, heart on the chopping block, body vibrating with need, and without one bit of control over his own fate.
He rubbed the heel of his hand in the center of his chest, hoping Bethany and Paul would come to the realization that they could make being together work beautifully if they only tried.
Fuck society. Fuck obstacles. He’d make it happen. He loved them.
“I want us on common and neutral ground,” Justin admitted. “Just the three of us, and nothing else present.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Paul said.
“Me too,” Bethany added.
“Good, sweetheart.” He raised his finger and waved it side to side, aching to touch her lip and prevent her from worrying it. She did that when she was nervous.
He didn’t want her nervous, didn’t want any doubt between them, but even Paul showed signs of defensiveness. Paul held her close, as if shielding her from any hurt Justin would cause, and that’s when the complete picture materialized.