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What should you do if someone is stalking you in the street?

The guys chose answer D: Yell at them to fuck off.

Oakley chose Answer B: Cross the street and go in theopposite direction. After the girls raised their arms in triumph, Oakley said, “Then call the police and keep them on speakerphone. This happened to me once.”

“Was it Corbin when you stole his truck?” Flynn asks.

“Borrowed. He got it back, and he got me too. So, if you ask me, he should have been happy I took his truck.”

“I am, my little thief,” he said as he pulled her close.

As promised, Becca goes in and out of the shaded cabana on a schedule. We paddleboard beside each other. Then she and Harper lie in the hammock that skims the water. The next time she comes in, Harper, Brooke, and Emmaline are with her, opening their romance books.

I huff, “Why do you all read about romance with athletes when you’re all married to one?”

“To give them ideas,” Presley says like I should know.

“Oh, really?” I leave it at that. It’s time for the men’s beach volleyball tournament. We break into two teams of five. Our true nature comes out, and it gets competitive as hell. Spiking. Diving. Chest bumping. When the game is on the line, and we’re up by one and serving, the women watch the intense exchange. No one wants to lose. Since this vacation is mostly all inclusive, we decide that the losing team has to pay for the fishing excursion tomorrow at one-thousand dollars a pop, so that’s ten grand. Flynn, Dawes, and Austin are on my team, along with Reed. If we lose, it will be me and Reed footing the bill. We would never make the dudes working regular jobs pay when we’re worth millions.

Logan sets the ball to Dane, who is six-foot-eight or something ridiculous. Sweat drips down Dane’s forehead as he slams the volleyball over the net, and I dive into the sand, just in the nick of time to keep it alive, stinging my wrists.

By divine intervention, Flynn is in the right place, setting it high to Reed, who hammers the ball over the white net with bullet-like speed. Somehow, it slices through everyone and landsperfectly in the back corner. Game over. We erupt in shouts, adrenaline buzzing in my veins.

High fives feel good, but when Becca runs and jumps into my arms, it’s Game. Over.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Becca

Feeling like a million bucks in my new skin, I drive the golf cart back to the villa from the spa. The setting sun glows in all my favorite colors on the horizon. Pink. Orange. Purple and a deep blue at the top. When I wind through the pathway, the background changes from different angles.

Giddiness sneaks up my core at the thought of John’s teasing promises today. Spanking me. Tying me up. I don’t know if I’ll like it but for the first time in a long time, I’m free to do what I want and explore.

John was going with the guys to watch Caleb’s football game that his grandpa, Brooke’s dad is live streaming, so I’ll have enough time to put on something sexy and show John that I want whatever he’s willing to teach me.

I tap the keycard at the front entrance, and when I turn, I see an incandescent glow creeping into the hallway. What in the world? Then I realize the shutters are probably open, and the sunset is filtering into the room. But when I take a few more strides and peek around the corner, the room is transformed with candlelight. Flickers of golden light adorn every corner of the room, casting shadows that dance and bounce off the walls.

“Hey,” John says as he pushes off the bed in dress pants and atight-fitting button down. Holy moly, he’s a beautiful, masculine man.

Walking around the bed, he hands me a glass of red wine. “If you’re up to it, I’m going to make love to you tonight.” John’s voice drifts through the romantic setting—low and rough with a slight crackling around the edges, flooding me with heat and making my pulse stutter with anticipation.

With both hands, he caresses my jaws and places a gentle kiss.

“Did you do this? It’s incredible.”

“I had a little help from the girls, and the concierge had the candles delivered. This is what you deserve, Becca. Someone who makes you feel special. Not just on important days but every day.”

He sets the wine glass on the console and slips my sheer coverup from my shoulders. “So beautiful.”

I untuck his shirt, furiously popping the buttons from his shirt. He has enough money to buy another one. “Slow down, babe. We’ve got all night, and I want my lips to touch every inch of you.”

“I don’t know if I can. This is all I’ve thought about today.”

As I rake his shirt from his shoulders, my lips find his sternum, and my hands roam over his washboard abs. Dennis had none of this.

My hands slide around to his back, and my breath hitches as the electricity hisses between us. There’s a glint of excitement in the way his eyes hold mine like he can feel my heart knocking against my ribs.

His steady, warm hands and calloused fingers create a trail of hunger—every inch of me buzzing with need. It seems to take forever for John’s lips to meet mine and when they do, the walls around us fall away. There’s nothing hasty or hurried about the way he kisses me. It’s as if he’s memorizing the shape, the depth, and the softness of my lips. All I can think of is that only Johnhas kissed me in this way. So much desire. So greedy. Wanting all of me.