I still don’t know where she is or what she’s up to—or why she’s up to it with Jeffrey, who is still with her, according to a text he sent to Andrew early the next morning—but I have a newfound respect for my sister’s shrewdness. She’s a woman with a plan, a lot of plans. Sometimes, they’re a little crazy, but they seem to be working out nicely so far.
I turn to Andrew, admiring the way a sweat droplet slides down his chest to pool in his abdominal crevice. His abs and their crevices are some of my many favorite things on earth. His body is a work of art, a finely tuned lovemaking machine, and all I need for endless entertainment. Forget the ruin tours and cave expeditions that locals hawk on the streets as we wander to dinner each night. All I need is this man.
“Don’t you think?” he asks, making me blink and murmur, “Sorry—I wasn’t listening. I was drooling.”
“I like it when I make you drool.” He rolls onto his side on his lounger and reaches out to trace the skin above my bikini bottom, making me shiver. “I’ve been drooling over this part all day. Why is the small of your back so damned sexy? I want to bite it.”
“I’ll allow that. In private,” I add with a laugh, pushing on his suntan-lotion-slick shoulder when he shifts closer, teeth bared. “We’re not giving the tabloids any more steamy pictures on this trip. I would prefer the slut narrative fade away as soon as possible.”
Andrew settles back onto his chair with a disgusted sound. “It’s all a bunch of horse shit anyway. No one’s calling me a slut, and I actually am one.”
I turn to face him, propping my head in my hand. “You are not.”
“Well, not anymore.” His gaze rakes up and down my body in a way that makes me feel positively delicious. And tingly. And ready to head inside for our daily “afternoon nap,” during which we do no napping whatsoever.
Reading my mind, he murmurs, “Nap time?”
“Yes, please, I—” I’m cut off by three sharp pings from my phone. Growling, I grab it and draw back my arm, but Andrew snatches it from my fingers before I can hurl it into the sea.
“Why don’t we just turn this off for a while?” he says, logically. “Easier than buying a new phone on an island the size of a postage stamp.”
“I feel like I need to keep it on. In case Lizzy texts or calls.”
“Another good reason to keep it out of the ocean, then.” He turns it off and tosses it into our beach bag. “And Lizzy is fine. She’s with Jeffrey. He won’t let anything bad happen to her.”
“But what if he’s the bad thing happening to her?” I ask. “She’s only had one boyfriend, and that was a long time ago. I’m not sure she has what it takes to hold her own in a normal adult relationship—if that’s even what they’re doing.”
“Well, Jeffrey’s far from normal, so either way, they should be fine.”
I arch a brow. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got to say about it?”
“I don’t like to stick my nose in other people’s business. Especially my brother’s.” He slides his sunglasses down, his eyes glittering wickedly into mine over the top. “Speaking of sex rodeos…”
I bite back a smile. “Were we speaking of sex rodeos?”
“We should have been. Better yet, we should be having one. Why aren’t we making that happen, Sabrina?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Because you like to talk a lot?”
Laughing, he hauls me into his lap, dancing his fingers up and down my ribs, making me giggle as he scoops me up in his arms and heads for the back of our beachside condo.
I link my wrists behind his neck. “Should we bring the swim bag and towels in?”
“No, we’re going back out to sunbathe naked when we’re done.”
“I am not sunbathing naked,” I tell him for the thousandth time.
“Everyone gets naked on the beach in Majorca.” He steps through the open door and kicks it closed behind him. “It’s tradition.”
“We’re already bucking all kinds of traditions. What’s one more?”
“Only uptight Americans are afraid to get naked in public, Bree,” he says, faux concern thick in his voice as he tosses me on the bed and reaches for the tie at the top of his swimsuit. “You’re a sophisticated European princess. The continent is counting on you to stay sexy and open-minded.”
I crook my finger at him with one hand while I pull the string at one side of my bikini bottom with the other. “I’ll show you sexy and open-minded.”
And I do. I kiss every inch of him, from his rounded pecs to his delicious ab crevices to the thick length rising between his legs just for me. I swirl my tongue around the plump head of his cock, relishing the burning softness and the salty taste of sweat and desire. I love the taste of him in my mouth, coating my tongue, making me hungry for more of him.