Page 19 of Savage Ruin
He's more ripped than Mateo, which suggests some type of regular workout routine, but he’s not stacked like Thiago. With his wide shoulders and lean hips, his body resembles the swimmers I drooled over during the Olympics a couple of years ago.
He shifts farther down the chair to put sunscreen on my legs and my view changes to brown sand. Blinking, I shift my gaze to my leg and watch him rub the lotion into my skin. Strong brown fingers glide in circles on my legs, making the white liquid disappear. Mesmerized, I watch him finish one leg, then switch to the other side of my chair to get the other one.
His hands rub closer to the top of my thigh, and I pull in deep, quiet breaths and force myself to lie perfectly still. While my body is locked down, my mind is free to wander, and I slip into a half-dream state where his hands don’t stop at the top of my thighs. Instead, they flirt with edges of my suit, before slipping underneath to touch me where I so badly wanted him to the night of the ball.
I’m so deep into the little fantasy playing in my head, I don’t even realize he’s done with my arms and legs. When his hands slip to my waist, I lick my lips and let out a breathless, “Yes.”
He freezes. “Hell, Henley,” he says gruffly, his voice rough with… something. His hand grabs mine and wraps it around the bottle of sunscreen. “I think you can do your stomach.”
His eyes are still hidden behind those damn sunglasses, so I can’t tell if he’s irritated or turned on. Until he stands and I get an eyeful.
He’s definitely turned on, I muse.
He frowns when I stare at the impressive sight in front of me. I guess he’s kind of irritated now too.
I wait for him to say something, but he only looks toward Mateo, who’s striding out of the water, then walks away.
“Thank you,” I tell him, my naturally husky voice deeper than usual. With little attention to the task, I slather sunscreen on my stomach while I watch Grayson from the corner of my eye. He stands with his back to me for a few seconds, then slowly squats to open the picnic basket.
Mateo strides up to us, looking invigorated from his swim in the ocean. Darting a look from me to Grayson, I’m surprised to see a slow smile cross his face.
“Looks like Grayson applied sunscreen to protect you from the wicked sun, minha linda,” he observes with laughter in his voice. A brown finger reaches out and draws a line down my leg, making me gasp.
Grayson whirls around and glares at Mateo.
I tense, but Mateo strokes soothing circles on my leg until my muscles relax.
Locked together in a sort of limbo, they stare at each other for a few minutes, while I wait for them to figure out whatever it is they need to figure out. When Grayson breaks the standoff by turning his back to us, Mateo silently shakes his head like he’s disappointed in him.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth while I try to grasp what just happened. All morning, I’ve been wrapped up in Mateo. His playfulness a beacon, drawing me to him, making me crave his sweet, sensual kisses. When I’m with him, I like how I feel about him and myself. Relaxed and invigorated. And I don’t have to be anybody else. Just me.
Yet a minute ago, I’d been consumed with Grayson, picturing us together under the sun, his hands caressing every inch of me. The kiss at the ball woke a fire in us that keeps flaring up even though I feel like we’re both trying to douse it. I’m not sure I like Grayson, or if he likes me.
Thiago pops into my mind, but I brush his image away. The man exudes raw power and sexuality. Any red-blooded woman would want to be near him, with him, but I’m nothing like the gorgeous and voluptuous Amazon women he typically dates. He’s not even remotely interested, just protective of me, like he is with everyone else. The first night was a single moment of pure chemistry. Since then, he hasn’t shown one iota of desire toward me.
My fingers tap against the chair in a familiar pattern. It’s like I’ve fallen into an alternate universe. Two months ago, the only man in my life was Marcos, and he didn’t generate any feelings except admiration. The rare times I forced myself out of the house to go on an app date, it usually ended up in either disappointment or meaningless sex, a brief moment spent trying to feel something.
Now, I’m all feelings. Is it because I finally decided to come out of hiding? Has this attraction been here all along and I didn’t know? And what do I do about the three, err, two men? Do I choose one? Ignore it? I don’t have anybody to ask for advice.
Lean fingers grip my chin and pull me around to face him. “It’s fine, Henley. Stop thinking. Relax and enjoy the day. Everything will sort itself out. I promise.”
My eyes find his warm brown ones and I blink at the conviction in them. “I don’t like promises,” I remind him. “They never come true.” Although I wish with everything in me they would.
CHAPTER12
MATEO
The tension between the three of us hovers like a cloud the rest of the day, but I might be the only one happy about it. Henley is worried and confused, and Grayson has retreated into his shell, but both are good signs. If Henley is worried, it means she cares about my feelings but also feels something for Grayson. And he only hides when he’s avoiding reality. In this case, Henley.
When I walked up earlier, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. I waited to feel upset or jealous, but it didn’t happen. Instead, an image of all three of us popped into my head, and it felt right.
What I said to Grayson earlier is still true. I want to change, but I’m also realistic enough to know I need to fall into those computational rabbit holes to keep my sanity. If not, the numbers drive me crazy with their incessant tapping on the edges of my mind. And I don’t want to ask Henley to fit into the edges of my life like the other women in my past. I want her to have what she needs… whatever that is. If she’s not happy, she’ll leave, and it would be impossible to find her.
A massive, scowling brute moves in front of me, and I smirk. I knew Thiago sensed something earlier. I’m surprised it took him this long to hunt us down. Squinting up at him, I see him decked out in swim trunks and carrying a towel.
“Thiago, glad you could join us,” Grayson remarks in a pseudo excited voice. “How was work? Did you work out a deal?”
Thiago scowls at him and flashes an image of Henley on his phone, then shows me. It’s the picture Grayson took earlier of her in Thiago’s tank top.
