Page 42 of Shark Bait

Alessio checks his wristwatch. “Four.”

“I’m not that fast,” I say in support of Shark, but that might have been the wrong thing to say because Alessio narrows his eyes. I make a show of looking behind me. “Did someone say something? Because it wasn’t me.”

Alessio starts to close the door, “Three minutes, turtles.” I catch a smile playing on his lips before he closes the door.

Shark chuckles. “Even Alessio likes you, and I can count the number of humans he likes on one hand.” Shark lies down flat again, and I can’t help but notice the big bulge in his pants.

“Come on.” He lifts his arms as if holding my waist. “I have three minutes to make you come.”

“I want to take a quick shower.”

His head snaps up. “What? Why?”

“Because I want to get out of this dress and into Valerina’s clothes before lunch.”

Shark sits up and curses Alessio before getting up and coming toward me. He keeps moving until I’m in the bathroom and he’s pinning me against the pink-and-black wallpaper. With my belly in the way again, he bends forward as if to kiss me, but I feel his fingers pulling up my dress. His face is so close to me that I can clearly see his chestnut-brown eyes are pure brown, not a speck of another color. No yellow or even light brown.

“Your eyes remind me of autumn,” I tell him. “Of sitting by the fireplace reading books and roasting s’mores. They make me think of eating cotton candy while standing under the Ferris wheel at the state fairgrounds.”

“Okay. My turn. Your eyes remind me of a meadow. And that is all I’ve got.” He stacks the dress just over my belly then bends and kisses the top of my belly. Stepping back, he tucks his hands into his pockets as if deliberately trying to restrain himself.

We stare at each other for a beat before he says, “Aren’t you getting in the shower?”

He wants me to get naked in front of him. I grab the gray dress and pull it over my head, then hand it to him. “Keep the dress. I want to burn it.”

Shark loops it through his belt buckle without taking his eyes off me. He peruses my body lazily, as if memorizing each curve, each blemish, each bruise. Then he comes closer and cups my face. “You are beautiful.”

“Even with the bruises?”

“Those are your medals, Troy. You survived, and the men who gave them to you didn’t.”

“I win.”

“Exactly.” He kisses me on the lips and lingers. I think he wants to make out with me, but he also doesn’t want to disrespect Alessio’s time.

“I don’t know which part of you I like more,” he says.

“I know which part of you I like the most,” I offer.

“Tell me.”

“Your ass. Europe’s finest ass.”

Shark smiles.

“That was a good one, huh?” I ask.

He laughs. “Terrible timing. I was going to kiss you.”

“We’re out of time.” I’m thinking it’s been more than five minutes since Alessio left.

“You’re wrong,” Shark says. “We have all the time in the world, and I want to be sure you wouldn’t mind spending some of it with me. Would you?”

I frown because his tone is serious, regretful almost. “No, of course not. I think I made it clear I like you.”

“Good.” He pecks my cheek and whispers near my ear, “I know which part of you is my favorite.” Then he allows his hand to travel from resting on my belly to between my legs. “It’s this one.” He taps my clit and slides a finger between my folds before he walks backward, lifting the same finger toward his mouth.

He doesn’t lick it, but shows me his teeth and rubs my wetness over them. There’s something violent about that gesture. Something feral. Primal.

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