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I stepped around Will to intercept him.

“How dare you touch—what the fuck!”

“Baby,” I soothed him, hands on his face even as he tried to lunge by me at Will. “I’m fine. Come here.”

“You’re bleeding!” His face crumpled, but his eyes, his eyes were murderous.

“Not because of him,” I said softly, taking his hand, leading him away fast, down to the last cabana where it was quiet, pulling him after me inside.

“Who hurt…? Trevan, what the hell is going on? Where were you? What’re you wearing? Why…?” He swallowed hard. “Where did you go?”

I fell back on the chaise lounge, pulling him down on top of me to straddle my hips. His moan was loud as his hands went to my chest and he pushed forward over my groin.

“So these people are all nuts,” I told him flatly.

His eyes were all over my face as he winced. “Oh baby, I need to get you some ice. Jesus… who else hit you?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to kill them,” he said evenly.

I chuckled, pushing up against him, and smiled as he narrowed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. “It’s okay; this is me we’re talking about. And a split lip ain’t shit.”

He bent close, hands fisted back in my new pale blue sweater as he traced the tip of his tongue over the wound, tasting my blood so gently. My skin heated and I felt the tingly, prickly sensation wash over me as my cock twitched under my lover’s firm, round ass.

“I like the feel of this sweater,” he told me, bunching it in his hands, pushing it up so he had access to my torso. “But your skin is better.”

I arched up against him, and his fingers traced over the deep groove in my abdomen and then back up to the L over my heart. Slowly, he rocked down over my now-swollen groin, sliding his crease back and forth.

“Stop.”

He bent forward and sucked my nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling over the pebbled nub, biting gently.

“Landry,” I breathed his name into his hair.

He got up fast, walked to the covering, and yanked it down, grabbing the zipper pull, closing it fast, letting anyone who came near it know that we were not to be disturbed. But I would not let him be that guy in front of his parents.

And it hurt to move: I was hard and my body ached to be buried in his, but I got up and stood on the other side.

“Lay down,” he commanded me, taking off his jacket and tossing a packet of lube onto the chaise. He draped the jacket over the back of the small chair and started on his belt buckle.

“No, let’s go home.”

He shook his head. “I saw you dancing with those girls, their hands all over you.”

“No one had their hands on me,” I assured him, because I was very particular about my personal space, half because of me and half because I knew Landry hated it.

“Daria was wearing your jacket, and you smell like cheap perfume.”

There was nothing cheap about that girl. I might have smelled like expensive perfume, but not like low-priced anything. “So we’ll go back to the house and I’ll take a shower.”

“No.” He pointed at the end of the chaise. “Sit, put that lube on your cock. I wanna see you stroke yourself, and then I’m gonna ride you.”

“Lan—”

“Do what I say,” he snarled at me, and I saw it then, the fury, the jealous rage simmering right there below his satin-smooth surface.

I had been careful, but the dancing I thought had been benign had caused a rise in him, my disappearance had added fuel to the fire, and when he saw me get hit, the truth was that he wanted to be the one smacking me around.