“Stop elbowing me, you big oaf!” I whisper-shout.
“Then move,” he growls. “For a tiny little thing, you take up a lot of fucking room.”
“Moi?” I ask, aghast, a hand to my chest. “Have you seen the circumference of one of your arms? It's honestly concerning. You probably need to see a doctor for it.”
“I’m not the one who needs a doctor. Maybe you should go lie down. You still have a concussion, and it’s clearly warping your judgment.”
I narrow my eyes, huffing with irritation. “You are impossible,” I snap.
Whatever weird little truce Enzo and I came to is up in flames this very second. He’s just so… frustrating. Always thinks he’s right. A fucking know-it-all, too. And he’s always looking at me like he can’t tell if he wants to mutate into a shark and eat me or not. AndIcan’t tell if that’s attractive or not.
Honestly, it’s whatever if he does mutate. I think it'd be doing us both a favor at this point.
We’re searching for the beacon and have found ourselves in a small closet tucked away on the other side of the hallway. I thought maybe a door might be in here, but I can’t see shit around the behemoth of a man taking up the entire space.
“Move,” I mutter, elbowing him as I look behind a shelf full of… beans. Lots of beans.
“Look, the bean gods blessed you,” he mutters snidely.
“Shut up,” I snip. I retreat with another harsh exhale. “There’s nothing in here anyway.”
I go to slide past him, and while that is definitely something I accomplish, I also succeed in rubbing my ass against his dick. His hands fly to my hips, gripping them tightly and holding me hostage.
My breath stalls while my heart rockets up into my throat.
“Careful,bella,” he warns darkly. “You may not have forgiven me yet, but I have plenty of methods to ask for it.”
The only response I’m capable of is an embarrassing wheeze. He squeezes me tighter.
“I can get on my knees again and show you a blessing from a different type of god,” he purrs, his accent thickening and only making the words sound more salacious.
That. Is.Illegal.
The oxygen has evacuated from my lungs, and I quite literally can’t breathe. I wiggle out of his hold, casting a sassy look over my shoulder. Or at least I try to. I’m too distracted by the intense throb between my legs.
“You would sooner give yourself a concussion trying to fuck me in here rather than actually making me come.”
His spine straightens, and the look on his face solidifies into cool marble.
Oh, shit.
I dart out of the closet before he can make good on that challenge. I can’t let Enzo and his big dick distract me. The energy in this decrepit lighthouse is decaying as quickly as the structure.
Sylvester and Enzo positively hate each other—not that they ever cared for one another to begin with—and when Enzo isn’t around, Sylvester talks to me as if I’ve agreed to stay.
I've only decided to leave last night, but I can’t find the words to tell him that. I’m scared of what will happen once I do. So, in true Sawyer Bennett fashion, I keep my mouth shut and let him dream. Even if those dreams are nightmarish.
I know Enzo is aware of Sylvester’s growing obsession, but I haven’t told him how bad it’s gotten. They both have tempers, and I don’t want anything jeopardizing our chance to find the beacon and in turn, hopefully, get a one-way ticket off the island.
Ignoring Enzo’s heated stare from the closet, I peruse the short hallway. And then I pause, tripping over an idea I hadn’t considered before.
“What if the entrance isn’t on the second floor?” I wonder aloud. Then, I turn toward Enzo. He gazes at me with a furrowed brow, waiting for me to continue.
“I assumed the entrance would be up here because that’s logical, right? You get to the third floor by the second… But what if it’s on the bottom floor and leads all the way up?”
He tilts his head, considering that. After a moment, he purses his lips and nods, walking toward me and notching my chin with his knuckle as he passes.
“Good thinking,bella,” he croons, a devilish glint in his eye. As if answering a mating call, my clit pulses, and arousal gathers between my thighs.