Page 45 of Drunk on You

“She’s something else,” he says, his eyes not leaving her.

“And she’s mine, so keep your eyes to yourself.”

Ryder chuckles. “Just appreciating the view.”

“Maybe if you were marrying someone you actually wanted to marry, you’d be too busy appreciating her view to notice my fiancée.”

“Your fake fiancée,” he points out, deflecting.

“Semantics.” I side-eye him. “My point is, it’s not too late to call the wedding off.”

“Not happening,” he says. “And speaking of weddings—or in your case, non-weddings”—he smirks—“when this whole charade is over, what will you do with all the time you’ll have with her not busting your balls?”

“I still have a while to figure that out. You, on the other hand, have less than forty-eight hours until you marry a woman you don’t want to spend your life with.”

“I’m not calling anything off, so drop it,” he says in a tone that brooks no argument.

“Please tell me you at least made her sign a prenup.”

“Of course,” he scoffs. “I’m not a complete idiot.” He smacks my chest and takes off running. “Let’s go, Parker! Your woman and I need to kick your ass!”

“You’re teaming up with her?” I call back, chasing after him. “What happened to bros over hos?”

“Sorry, man.” Ryder laughs. “I’ve heard the shit she’s done. I’m not getting on her bad side.”

chapter eighteen

ANASTASIA

Today should’ve been relaxing. We’re on the beach of an all-inclusive resort in Maui. All I have to do is raise a finger, and another drink is put in my hand. Work is temporarily on hold. Between the cabana by the pool and the lounge chairs with the canopy on the beach, Julian has made sure we’re comfortable and relaxed.

But I’m not relaxed … because all day, I’ve had to look at a half-naked Julian. When he swims and walks and bends over, his corded muscles contract in a way that shouldn’t be sexy, but is. And those tattoos. I’d like to say I forgot he had them on his chest since it’d been a while since I’d seen him shirtless, but the truth is, they’ve been in several of my fantasies over the past few weeks. It’s a bit easier to ignore how gorgeous the man is when he’s dressed in a suit, covering all of his goods. But the second his shirt came off, I was a goner.

I forgot how built he was despite us being on the boat not that long ago. So much has happened since then. Yet, with all that’s happened, it’s clear I’m still attracted to Julian. Only now, it’s worse because I’ve gotten to know him. So, instead of only being turned on by his looks, I’m equally falling for his personality.

The way he constantly makes sure I’m taken care of. If my drink is close to being empty, he’s on it. If my skin is showing too much pink, he’s applying sunscreen on me.

And I’d like to say it’s the island. We’re on vacation, and I’m living in a fantasy bubble. But it started before we came here. When our pranks got out of hand and I cried, he held me. He apologized and meant it. He didn’t have to tell me how proud my dad was of me, but he did.

He cooks me dinner every night. And ever since he realized I use the library as my office, he had a better light put in, along with an air filter since it smelled a bit like old books.

Right now, I’m standing on the other side of the net, watching as Julian bends over, his tanned skin glistening with a mixture of sunscreen and sweat, ready for the volleyball to come his way. And all I can think about it is whether he sweats like that in bed. If he’s capable of going long enough and hard enough to work up a sweat like that. I imagine him hovered above me, thrusting in and out of me as I run my fingertips along his sweaty back, digging my nails into his heated flesh.

Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on. I release a harsh breath and wonder if anyone would notice if I disappeared to our room to rub one out really quick.

Just as the thought enters my brain, the ball goes over the net, and Julian pops up, ready to make the return. His arms stretch out in front of him, and as he makes contact, his muscles contract, making the apex of my legs do the same.

He spikes the ball over the net, and before anyone on our side can get to it, it hits the sand, giving them the point they need to win the game.

“Hell yeah!” Julian yells, pointing at me and grinning as he runs over to me. “Just call me Master, baby, because I’m the master of damn near everything.”

“Congratulations, Master,” I say dryly, patting his hard, glistening chest. “Now, how about you go be the master of cleaning up our stuff that we left over by our chairs so I can head up to our room and start getting ready for dinner?”

My dad texted earlier and asked us to go on a double date with him and Selene since he hasn’t seen us all day. With them being a bit older, they chose to relax indoors and booked a couples spa day.

“Yeah, yeah.” Julian chuckles. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

With a kiss to my cheek, he takes off toward our chairs, and I head in the opposite direction with the hope of getting to our room with enough time to give myself some sexual relief.

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