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“What the bloody hell are you doing?” she asks as I lift her off the jet ski and place her on her feet.
“I told you, it’s too choppy out there. Dangerous.”
She looks down at the calm water lapping our ankles. “I actually think it’s more dangerous on dry land.” Lifting her head, she searches my eyes as I gaze into hers, spellbound. “It’s okay, Leon,” she says, eyes not leaving mine. “Another day.”
“Sure.” He sounds disappointed, but I hear the jet ski pull away.
“What are you doing, Brad?” she asks calmly.
“I don’t know,” I admit through my gritted teeth. “But I can’t seem to stop fucking doing it.”
“You mean hassling me?”
I snort, taking her arm and manhandling her around the back of a container, out of sight. “Get the hell off me,” she snaps, wrenching her arm out of my grip.
“Did. You. Use. Me?”
She comes close, head tilted back to look up at me. “Yes. I used you. And now it’s done, so you don’t have to worry about me becoming all needy or falling in love with you.” A condemning sneer curls her lip. “I actually think you’re unlovable. Or perhaps one of your hookers will fall. Or a whore. But never me.”
“You’re not a whore?”
“I don’t think you can call a virgin a whore.”
“But you’re not a virgin anymore.”
“You bastard,” she hisses.
I don’t see it coming. The fist. But boy do I feel it. The crunching sound of my nose rings in my ears and my eyes burst with water. “Fuck,” I breathe, bending, blinking, watching the blood drip down onto the ground in fat, heavy drops.
“Oh shit,” Pearl whispers.
I brace my hands on my knees and look up at her, my nose streaming. I see regret. It’s not a consolation, because I don’t want her to be sorry. I don’t want her to apologize. Feel remorse. And as if she’s read me, she steps back, her shoulders straightening in an act of strength. Resilience. Where the fuck did she learn to swing like that?
“Ouch,” I say flatly, making her lips press together. Is she restraining a laugh? God help me, I want to strangle her. Better than wanting to fuck her. There aren’t many people in the world who would get away with socking me one to the face. Lucky for Pearl, I deserved it.
And then she delivers a fatal blow. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
No. I shake my head and wipe my face with the sleeve of my wet suit, wrinkling my nose on a hiss of pain. Motherfucker. “Just stay away from me.”
“You pulled me off the jet ski,” she blurts, half laughing, half outraged. “I was looking forward to my lesson.”
“He wants you,” I yell, startling both of us.
She backs up. “And that’s a problem?”
“Yes! No!” Fuck!
“Oh, I can’t deal with you.” She pivots and walks off, patting at her neck, feeling for the cord.
“Do not take that off out here,” I warn, mentally seeing her naked body beneath.
“Fuck off.” She finds the pull and yanks it down, revealing her bare back.
“Pearl!”
Her arms come out next. What the fuck is she doing? I find myself going after her, disgusted, and jostling her to face me, squishing her to my front. “Get off me,” she protests, as I scan the area around us for watching eyes. Lucky for me, and not just because Pearl’s half naked, there’s no one around.
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” I lift her from her feet and walk her around the container, back into the cabin, sniffing back the flowing blood. I back into the changing room and release her. “You can’t walk around flaunting yourself, Pearl. It’s beneath you.” I’ve seen endless women using their assets as a weapon. Pearl isn’t one of them, and I won’t let her be.
