Theo bit my ear, dragging at the lobe, swirling his tongue along the shell. He was so strong and he held me up as if I weighed nothing—I knew that wasn’t true. His focus was on my neck, then my ear, my collarbone.
I got lost, my head falling back.
Then I saw them.
“The paparazzi are still here,” I said on a sigh.
From their perspective, I was hugging him. He ignored me, popping the button on my jeans with his free hand. He slid his hand under my panties, fingers cool from the beach air, my skin hot. The fact that people—cameras—were feet away only made me hotter.
His jagged groan ricocheted like shrapnel through my body. I gripped his shoulders for support. “If I wanted to fuck you right now, you would do it.”
God help me, I would.
“I won’t give that to you, Reject. I don’t want anyone to see you but me.”
He slid out of me, and I missed him like my own blood. He let me go, and I clung to him, sliding down his body. He grinned down at me, cocky, pushing hair out of my face with the hand that had just spread me.
Then he turned to the paparazzi, smile evaporating. “Fuck off.”
“That doesn’t work with them,” I said. If anything, it fueled them.
Sure enough, they stayed put.
Theo rolled his shoulders and closed the distance between us and the paparazzi. He focused on the guy with the video camera, grabbing the lens, smashing the thing to the sand. I was reminded of when he’d first come back to me, the very first times he’d stuck up for me. They yelled something about a lawsuit, cameras flashing with more vehemence. Theo laughed.
“Unless you want your exclusive to disappear like sand, get the fuck out.” He growled the last bit.
When they didn’t immediately move, he reached for another camera, and that had them scattering. He looked so intimidating, so Theo.
They took a slew of photos as they left, and I wondered what they were going to print now. Something about how Abigail Crowne had found someone just like her, maybe. Married a man with no regard for civility, aggressive and rude.
What a pair they were.
That worry vanished as Theo came back to me.
He picked me up, grabbing my thigh and lifting me up, wrapping my legs back around his waist. He buried his face in my neck, biting and sucking.
“First I’m going to fuck you against the pier, then I’m going to fuck you in the sand. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you suck my cock.”
“Splinters,” I managed to breathe against his intoxicating lips.
He laughed. “Sweet girl, you should be worried about more than splinters.”
He moved us underneath the pier, but when he backed me against the column, he took off his zip-up hoodie, draping it over my shoulders. I had a very good cushion against splinters.
My Theo barked, and he bit hard, but when it came to me, he was always so protective.
My fingers glanced down his chest, to his jeans, unzipping him. I pulled him hot and hard out of his boxer briefs, into my hand. He hissed, tightening the hoodie around my shoulders.
“I don’t have a condom, Abigail,” Theo said, voice rough.
“I don’t have any birth control.”
Our eyes locked. This was my out.
I wrapped my legs tighter around him, pushing him closer to me, just barely spreading myself.
“Fuck,” he groaned into my neck. “I’ve missed this pussy.” His teeth found my neck, biting. “I’m going to mark you.” He dragged his teeth along my collarbone. “I’m going to drip down your pussy.”