Page 37 of Stranded

His body tenses up and I freeze.Crab sucker!What the hell am I doing?

I quickly pull back and his arms loosen, letting me go as I take a couple nervous steps backwards. I look up at him, expecting to see him look as uncomfortable as I suddenly feel, but I’m quickly distracted by the bird shit on his head.

“Oh my god, Weston! You’ve been hit!” A small smile tugs at his lips and I quickly turn to the beach, taking a few quick steps as I search for the culprit. “Bob!” I yell, looking up and down the beach. “You dirty little crab sucker! Get your ass back here so I can have you for dinner!”

I stomp towards the water as I grumble to myself. “Chicken nuggies would be perfect with some bacon. Where the hell is that damn bird? I’ll teach him!”

“Zee?” I turn, having forgotten that Weston was still here. “Do you actually plan to catch that seagull?”

I frown in anger, seeing Weston covered in Bob’s shit. “Yes! He can’t do that to you and get away with it.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just wash it off.”

“That’s not good enough,” I say, crossing my arms in frustration.

“Why not? Are you really this mad? At a seagull?” I nod my head as I grind my jaw in anger. “Why?”

“Cause he was aiming for me, and you—you protected me,” I admit, dropping my arms to my sides as my anger turns into frustration and confusion about my own feelings.

“Are you mad at him? Or are you mad at me?” he asks, taking a few steps closer, only a couple feet now separating us.

I have to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “I’m not mad at you,” I say quietly as I stare into his piercing hazel eyes.

“Then what are you feeling right now?” he asks, moving even closer.

“Confused.”

“About what?”

“Why did you do that? I was trying to save you,” I say, trying very hard not to pout.

He lowers himself onto one knee, bringing his face much closer to mine, and slowly reaches for one of my hands. I meet him halfway and he pulls it up between both of his giant hands as he speaks. “Zee, if I had it my way, I’ll always be the one saving you, not the other way around.”

I let out a small gasp of surprise. “You don't even know me.”

A slow smile covers his face as he gives me a knowing look. “And you don’t know me, and yet you just tried to save me from a…” he trails off, clearly unsure of what to call what just happened.

“A fly by pooping?” I offer.

He lets out a small laugh, making my heart leap in my chest and the sound of his husky voice. “Yeah, that. I’m gonna quickly go wash this off. Will you guard my clothes for me from any more seagull assassins?”

I nod my head, my eyes wide as he pulls off his too-tight t-shirt. His naked chest is right there in front of me. If I reached out, I could probably feel his abs. I swallow heavily and he tosses his shirt at me, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Ah crap shells, am I drooling?

When he pulls his jeans off, I discreetly check and am relieved to see I’m not. But that probably won’t last long with this giant greek god of a man standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer shorts.

I try to avert my gaze from his substantial package, but it’s hard not to stare. My eyes catch on his gigantic thighs, then his flexing biceps. He passes his pants to me and I try not to make any noise as my fingers brush his.

What the hell is happening to me right now?

He heads towards the ocean, and I get a good glimpse of his tight ass. “Sweet baby beefcake!” I whisper to myself as I watch him dive into the water. I let out a puff of air and groan. “He has no right looking that yummy when I look like this.”

“I think you look fucking edible,” someone says behind me, making me scream as I spin and throw Weston’s clothes at them.

Bower laughs as he catches them easily. My wide eyes bounce between him and Kingsley, standing only a few feet behind me.

“How long have you two been standing there?” I ask nervously.

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