I sighed, eyes still closed. “They were addicts and I sort of hated when they came back. They would blame my being hyper or not doing well in school on them leaving over and over. I resented them and myself.”
“I hope you learned different.” Quinton sighed, like maybe he understood some part of it.
I shrugged, “Maybe I sometimes still blame myself. I don’t know. You know, one day they just didn’t come back and we got a call to say they’d been in an accident a couple states away. It wasn’t big news. Everyone just wrote it off as another sad story of how drugs overtake people. And I agreed. Except I was still a kid. I still felt like they were coming home for a long time. When I finally understood they weren’t, I got the tattoo.”
Quinton sat and listened intently, even though I was topless in a lounge chair at this stupid party.
“Morina.” Bastian’s voice sliced through the air in a way that said I’d finally gotten a reaction from him. “Time to go.”
My eyes flew open and I met the dark stare of my husband. His strong jaw was hard enough to cut stone. His full lips pursed as he broke eye contact and scanned up and down my body.
It felt like lava on my skin as he perused every curve. I lifted my chin, ready to fight if that was what he intended. “Bastian. This is a great spot on the beach. Quinton and I were just enjoying the view.”
“I have a feeling you were enjoying different views.”
The man behind him chuckled and unfolded from the lounge chair. “Morina, next time you need company, feel free to give me a call.”
“My wife has my company, Quinton. Don’t be disrespectful.”
“What is respect, Sebastian? Letting another man entertain your wife and not coming over yourself? Or is that neglect?”
I saw the moment Bastian’s stance shifted. His muscles rippling in a way they didn’t usually. Quinton must’ve witnessed the transformation too, because he stepped back, raising his hands.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Morina.” He backstepped, leaving me with a man who never got angry, and yet here he was seething.
“It’s time to go,” Bastian said through clenched teeth, without looking at me. His stare was on the water, where mine once had been. The wind pushed the waves higher.
Angry waves.
The tide picked up like it knew Bastian owned the ocean too.
Strands of my hair stuck to the sheen on my shoulder and across my breasts. I brushed them way, but my skin reacted to my own touch or maybe to Bastian’s gaze that was suddenly following my hand.
My nipples tightened as he licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. “Morina, I swear to fucking God, you are beautiful in your fury and you have a right to it.” His voice came out low like someone threw it through gravel. “But if you keep this up, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here even if you are kicking and screaming.”
My hand slid down my stomach, inch by inch. I arched and bit my lip, stopping right above my bikini bottoms. Both of our stares paused there too, his was furious and mine was wanting suddenly.
I wanted him to possess me, wanted him to feel the jealousy and the desire I felt for him at the same time. “Why are we resisting others’ advances, Bastian? We could both be enjoying ourselves, working toward legal separation.”
He pulled my string bikini top from his pocket. He must have picked it up from the sand. He threw the balled up piece of fabric onto my chest. “Put your top back on.”
“It’s a topless beach, Bastian. Everyone is–”
His large hand shot out and was under my hair so fast, I didn’t see it coming. He gripped it hard at the base. When he knelt beside me, his other hand gripped my jaw and I was trapped. So easily, he had an advantage as he pulled my ear close. “I’m happy to make a public display of how you’re my wife right here right now if you want to. No separation of any sort. You want to enjoy someone else’s touch,ragazza? I’ll make you beg for mine on this beach right now.”
I stared at him, suddenly something a lot like fear slithered through me. Bastian was supposed to be the one who made allies with everyone, who was soft where his father had been hard.
Bastian was gone.
The head of the Armanelli family held me in his grasp.
The shake in his hand, the wild in his eyes was something like I’d never seen.
I opened my mouth, ready to agree. He didn’t let me though.
“Don’t say a word,” he whispered calmly. Yet, that grip, the grip in my hair bordered on painful. “Pick up your top and cover what’s mine.”
Why did my body want so badly to defy him, to push him past the point he could control. He must have seen my hesitation, because he jerked my head just a little and ground out, “Now.”