Page 77 of Bound

The selfishness that wouldn’t unchain him from this goddamned mope.

The punishment that he deserved.

He’d broken the rules. No, he’d shattered them. Gotten too damn entangled in the op to the point that he couldn’t give the mission up. Yeah, despite its happy ending. Despite how he’d never have to worry about Jayd again.

But goddammit, he wanted to worry. About everything. About her bold, impetuous spirit. About her open, trusting heart. About her dreams and her goals, her sanity and her safety…

And yes, even now, about the fantasy he’d conjured of her. Whether that dream girl was going to stop staring at him and remember exactly where she was stepping…

And continued to step…

Until she careened right off the lagoon’s edge.

And on her way into the choppy water, let out a shriek to finally shatter him. And horrify him.

“Jesus Ch—” He dove forward, breast stroking toward her like the obedient fool he was. Reality was about to hand him his soul on a plate the second he reached and watched his fantasy turn back into pixie dust. In this case, perhaps pixie drops.

But he wrapped his hand around a very real shoulder. And then around the other. A wonderfully real warmth flowed over his chest as Jayd sputtered and coughed past the soaked curtain of her hair.

“Rahmié Creacu!”

Holy shit. That sounded pretty real too.

Did he dare test the postulation?

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Not his smoothest reality test, but damn how he rejoiced in the results. Down to every infuriated light in her eyes and every twist of her lips.

“I live here, Sir. And your excuse?”

Oh, damn it. She was begging for it. Before he could resist, his most insolent smirk splayed itself into existence.

“So…you were just taking a stroll underneath the palais to get some fresh air? That it?”

Her mouth relaxed. Her body softened against his by the same degrees. Shit. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten his abstinence-is-golden memo yet. Not even an email version.

“I shall answer your questions when you answer mine.”

She tilted her head, channeling so much of her sassy sprite side that Brick started fantasizing again. This time, about what he could do to tame that wild little creature. How he could haul her out of this pool, yank down her leggings, and give her a discipline session like she’d never known. He already saw it: the wet smacks of his palm against her gleaming backside. He felt it: the heady sting of hitting her wet flesh. And oh yes, he heard it—the echoes of her high wails along all these hard walls.

Shit, shit, shit!

“After the crowd in the commissary started closing in, I needed some air.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth. Slivers of panic had definitely soaked in at the outskirts of his psyche, but having Jayd nearby had taken a lot of the edges off—at least until they got too sharp. “I headed for the beach. The water was warm. Seemed a no-brainer.”

She narrowed her stare. “Even with your wounds?”

He shrugged, deliberately emphasizing the shoulder with his half-dissolved sutures. “Saltwater keeps shit clean, right?” He ignored her little huff and went on. “Anyhow, I was fine until the tide decided to be a beast. Idiotic, I know. But Puget Sound isn’t exactly known for its mean rips.”

Jayd canted her head the other direction. Holy God, she was such a sweet sight in yeah-you-are-an-idiot mode. But perhaps she was getting distracted in interesting ways, just like he was. He hadn’t exactly packed a swimsuit for this island detour, so their sexes were only separated by her thin yet soaked leggings. If he was feeling everything accurately, she was already hot and needy. And goddammit, his dick was already a boulder.

“Pixie?”

“Yes, Sir?”

Fuck. He’d absolutely walked into that one, and most of him wasn’t sorry.

“Your turn,” he prompted in a slow, meaningful growl.