Page 17 of Hostile Cravings (Wicked Cravings #3)

“Let me up, Angie. And get dressed.”

“Don’t change the subject,” I said. “It’s not an easy one for me, either.”

“Then drop it. We don’t need to be anything more than this.”

“But this isn’t what either of us considers normal, and you know that.”

His eyes searched mine, and I could see how uncomfortable I’d made him. We were too much alike to not notice, but what was happening inside of me, the way my heart had come alive, was something I couldn’t ignore no matter how much I wanted to.

“Let it go, Anj. I’ll take you to the beach.” He gave me a quick kiss and pushed my legs from him, leaving me on the bed.

“You’re an ass, Tyson,” I grumbled.

“Not anything you didn’t know. Now find another bathing suit, one that covers more skin, and let’s go.”

He walked out onto the balcony, scrolling on his phone. With a sigh, I rose from the bed, hobbling on my foot and cursing my ankle like I wanted to curse him.

“So, what now?” I asked as I pulled out my pink bikini, not caring that he wanted me covered up more. “We just go back to being enemies until you’re ready to fuck me again?”

He remained quiet, and I kept my back to him as I stepped into my bottoms. I was sure I’d pissed him off, but I didn’t care. I was good at pissing him off.

I felt his fingers on my neck before he turned me and thrust me into his body. His eyes were shadowed, his jaw clenched, the grip on my neck soaking me along with that steely gaze .

“What are you going to do, Tyson? Call me names, insult me to cover up what this is? If so, then let’s do that because I’m scared of what this is…as scared as you are, and I’m comfortable with your insults and your hatred.” My heart was pounding so loud it was thudding in my ears.

“You’re a bitch, Angie.”

“I’m a bitch you’ve now touched and can’t run from like you always do.” His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching more. “Just like I can’t run from you like I always do.”

He relaxed his grip on my neck and his fingers weaved through my hair.

“Neither of us knows how to do this, Tyson. And that’s okay.”

He pushed my face closer, kissing me as if the world was ending and this was our last kiss. It left me breathless, and when he released me, I teetered.

“That’s not what you’re planning to wear, is it?” he asked, as if he hadn’t just melted me into a useless puddle. “You look like a tramp.”

So that’s where we were going. Returning to what we’d been, the comfortable ease of nasty banter that let us avoid the situation, the feelings, the revelations we’d had.

“Too bad. Maybe I can pick up some real men while I’m out there,” I retorted playfully. “I hear they know how to make me come better than the boys I usually have sex with.”

His jaw clenched more, but his eyes sparkled with humor. Giving my ass a smack, he walked away, pouring himself a glass of liquor. When I finished dressing, I pulled a pair of heeled sandals from my bag.

“What the hell are those?”

“What do they look like, asshole?”

“No.” He took them from my hand and tossed them across the room .

“How am I supposed to walk to the beach?” My frustration with him was returning, and it felt good.

“You can barely walk in bare feet. Wearing those things will break that goddamn ankle.”

I put my hand on my hips, pouting my lip.

“Keep that lip out like that and I’ll put it to use.”

“Fuck you, Raines.”

“I already had a piece of that, baby. Save it for later.”

I grumbled as I walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll save it for some hot guy on the beach.”

He had his hand locked on my arm before I could make it any further. Twisting me around, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Tyson!” I hit his back, but he only laughed, sliding the material of my suit over and rubbing my ass before he smacked it.

“Ouch!”

“Damn, I like that ass,” he said, leaving the room.

“I need to finish getting ready,” I complained.

Tyson’s man followed us down the hall, talking into an earpiece.

“I believe I told you no more makeup.”

“But—”

“No buts. That shit’s going in the trash when I get back.” He gave my ass another smack and his man tried to hide his smile. I shot him a dirty look, but his grin only grew. By now, a second man had joined him, both of them getting a good laugh out of my position.

“Damn it, Tyson, my suit is coming off.” The tie had loosened precariously, and I knew when he put me down, I’d be flashing anyone in sight.

“You’d better make sure you have those tits covered when I put you in that sand or I’ll be burying anyone who sees them.”

With a sigh, I decided it wasn’t worth complaining anymore.

Besides, his last comment held a sweetness to it I was sure only I picked up on.

I clung to his back, ignoring the stares of the people in the lobby and shooting dagger eyes at the resort manager as we passed her.

Tyson was mine now and if the bitch so much as looked at him, I’d scratch her eyes out.

The thought was a foreign one, and I wasn’t sure when this possessive need to have Tyson to myself had surfaced, but now that it was there, I wasn’t letting it go. Just like I wasn’t letting him go, no matter how that idea challenged everything I was.