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Wilder gently sets me down but stays close, his hands lingering at my waist. Our breaths mingle in the charged air, both of us buzzing with exhilaration. His thumb caresses my hip bone through the thin fabric of my dress and my pulse skyrockets.
"Well would ya look at that, we lost 'em," Wilder murmurs, his cobalt eyes filled with hunger as they trace my features. He slowly cups my cheek in his palm, calluses scraping my sensitive skin. "Now, where were we, darlin'?"
Before I can even think to respond, his lips capture mine in a blistering kiss. My fingers dig into his muscular shoulders at the sudden passion overwhelming my senses. Wilder walks me backwards until my back hits a tree trunk, his hard body pressing into me insistently.
I gasp into his mouth as his tongue meets mine, my knees nearly buckling from the bolt of desire that shoots through me. He swallows my breathy moan, one hand trailing down to grasp my hip as the other threads through my windswept hair. I'm drowning in everything Wilder, my skin on fire everywhere we touch.
Just when I'm about to throw all caution to the wind and surrender completely, the sound of crunching leaves nearby has us springing apart hastily. Wyatt and Emrys emerge into the moonlit clearing, chests heaving from exertion, eyes dark and stormy. The air crackles with anticipation.
"Well, looks like you found us," Wilder drawls, careful to keep his tone casual. But I hear the undercurrent of irritation at our moment being cut short.
Wyatt strides closer, raking a hand through his usually impeccable hair. A distinctly ruffled version of his normally polished self. "Yes, it appears we have."
His eyes flick to my kiss-swollen lips before boring into Wilder. Emrys lingers in the background, shoulders tense, watching the stand-off unfold.
I press my palms to my heated cheeks, willing my racing pulse to slow down. But it's a lost cause at this point. A line has been crossed–more than one, actually–ones I didn’t even know had been drawn yet based on the tension between the three men around me.
Wyatt's eyes bore into Wilder, a muscle feathering in his jaw. Emrys stays quiet, coiled tension in his powerful frame. The charged moment hangs suspended, the air heavy with anticipation. Before anything can ignite, a distant crack of thunder rumbles through the skies. I glance up, catching sight of ominous clouds gathering overhead. The faint scent of ozone hits my senses.
A raindrop splashes down, cold on my heated skin. Then another. And suddenly the skies open up, a deluge of warm tropical rain drenching us in seconds.
"We should head back," I shout over the downpour. With the electricity of the moment effectively doused, Wyatt nods briskly and Wilder shrugs, sending a splash of water my way.
We make our way through the trees, the mud sucking at our feet. Emrys' broad hand rests on my lower back, guiding me through the dark forest unerringly. Back on the beach, we sprint through the torrents until the resort lights glow ahead through the haze.
I burst into the lobby, drenched and exhilarated, the men following close behind. The concierge's eyes widen to the size of saucers at our bedraggled appearance. Water streams from Wilder that he does nothing to stop. Wyatt attempts to wring out his thoroughly soaked chicken suit that I completely forgot he was wearing. Emrys shakes his head like a dog, droplets flying everywhere.
I make eye contact with each of them in turn, all of us looking like half-drowned rats. Laughter bubbles up and soon we're all doubled over, soaked to the bone, unable to contain it.
With the heated tension dissipated by the downpour, I feel myself relax as we make our way towards the elevators together, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind us. There will be time to figure this all out later. But for now, we're just four people, taking shelter from the storm.
Chapter 14
The elevator doors slide open with a ding and we step into the lavish penthouse suite, water still dripping from our soaked frames onto the polished marble floors.
"You boys might want to get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," Kat says breezily over her shoulder as she heads for the master bedroom. "And Wyatt, you should really have the resort dry clean that chicken suit. You'll be needing it again tomorrow." She punctuates her words with a melodic laugh before disappearing into the bedroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.
As soon as the definitive click of the latch sounds, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. The easy grin I've kept plastered on my face all night slips, my jaw clenching tightly. Now to deal with these two killjoys after they ruined my fun.
Wyatt busies himself gathering up the clothes we'd haphazardly strewn about earlier, his usual unflappable control clearly rattled if he's reduced to nervous tidying. I notice his hands tightening in anger over the items as he folds them into perfect squares. Good.
Meanwhile, Emrys stands sentry in front of the bedroom door, arms crossed menacingly over his barrel chest, his hulking frame impossible to ignore. His piercing golden-green eyes bore into me, as if trying to intimidate me. Fat chance.
Simmering irritation steals through me, setting my blood to a slow boil. Just who do these two stuffed shirts think they are, horning in on my private time with Kat? I'm the one who lit that fire in her eyes tonight. Felt the rising heat of her skin beneath my hands as I pulled her close. Her lips had yielded so sweetly beneath mine before we were so rudely interrupted by the fun police.
Kat wants me. I'd stake my reputation on it. And I'll be damned if I let a couple of starched collars like Wyatt and Emrys get in the way.
Wyatt finishes his neurotic tidying and turns to fully face me, squaring his shoulders like he's gearing up for a fight. "I believe we need to establish some clear boundaries here regarding Kathryn," he begins, his polished tone tight with restrained irritation.
I let out a sharp laugh. "Boundaries? That's cute and all, but I don't remember signing anything saying I had to keep my hands off the lady, chicken shit." I make sure to draw out the reminder to his outfit mockingly.
At my insolent words, Emrys steps closer, using his imposing size to try and intimidate me. I have to clench my fists tightly to resist the urge to take a swing at his smug face.
"Kat isn’t yours to paw at," Emrys rumbles, his voice gravelly with suppressed anger.
Not one to back down easily, I stride forward until we're nearly chest to chest, peering up at him defiantly. "From where I was standing, out there under the moonlight, she didn't seem to mind my hands on her one little bit," I shoot back recklessly.
At this, Wyatt's usual calm facade shatters completely as anger flashes clearly across his patrician features. His hands clench into tight fists at his sides.
