Page 105 of Lost & Found

“Pasha,” she heaved, brows knitting together. “You know I can’t understand you. Can you answer in English?” Her face fell, and tears filled her eyes. “I get it. You think I’m too fat to wear a—”

The moment the words left her mouth, I grabbed her hips and hauled her against me. The thickness of my cock and the fullness of her breasts against my chest had met at the exact moment our lips did.

I didn’t need to answer with words. If she couldn’t tell what I thought about her from the steel rod in my shorts, no adjectives in the English language would convince her. But that wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot. My mouth crashed down on hers, cutting off the absurdity before it could finish forming.

Our lips parted at the same time, and a feral groan from deep in my throat released. Fuck, she tasted too good. The sensual glide of her tongue against mine was all it took. She pressed up on her toes and consumed every one of my senses in a matter of seconds.

My hands tangled in her hair as I devoured her. Her hands moved to my biceps, holding on for dear life. A soft moan sounded as I trailed my hand over the skin on the small of her back, teasing the swell of her ass with my fingertips.

I moved my hips forward a small fraction more, my cock dragging against the front of her. My heart slammed behind my ribs, hard enough to hurt. She trusted me. And no one was watching. This wasn’t for show. There wasn’t an audience. It was just us.

That realization nearly undid me. I broke the kiss before I lost the ability to do so and tilted my head back, dragging in a breath. She buried her face against my chest, hiding from what we’d just ignited.

“Woman,” I muttered roughly, still trying to rein myself in. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Put sun cream on my back?”

The absurdity of her request cracked the tension wide open. A bark of laughter tore out of me.

“So I ran your friends off, huh?” she asked after a moment.

“I think it had more to do with the fact that I looked like I was contemplating homicide. Triple so to speak.” I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “You look incredible, by the way. Who knew you were hiding all that under oversized clothing.”

She took a seat on the blanket, and I joined her. Then she handed me the bottle and turned around. My attention shifted down the shoreline. Hannah stood with her back to me. Trent stood facing her—facing Isabella—sunglasses on, posture casual.

Too casual. He was staring again.

“I have one rule,” I said as I poured some into my palm.

She scoffed without turning. “I can already tell you where you can shove that rule. You’re not actually my boyfriend, remember?”

“Then I suppose I’ll send that picture to the group chat and request an emergency family meeting,” I replied calmly. “Imagine everyone back home opening their phones expecting a friendly beach update and instead getting you in that suit.”

She whipped around. “Fine. What’s the rule?”

“No coming down to the beach alone. Especially dressed like this.”

Her brows lifted. “It’s a beach, you know. This is literally the only acceptable place to wear something like this. And I’m not alone. Lisa looks stunning. Even Hannah does.”

“I couldn’t care less who looks at them,” I said. “You are different.”

The unease settled in my gut again—not jealousy this time, but something darker. “Don’t put yourself in danger, Bella. Promise me. There are men who—”

“I know,” she cut in, pulling out of my reach and turning to face me fully. “I know exactly what men are capable of.”

And she did. I felt foolish for bringing it up.

She turned away. “I won’t come down without you. I’m not that keen on being near naked. I am wearing this for you—well I mean it makes sense—with this being a beach wedding.”

I smirked. “You wore it for me, huh?”

She huffed, but for once, she didn’t mouth off or argue. The absence of resistance loosened something in my body, and my shoulders fell into a more relaxed state.

Settling on the blanket, she lay on her stomach, arms folded beneath her chin. Her back was exposed to the sun like an offering. When my hands touched her skin, she inhaled sharply. I smoothed the lotion across her shoulders, spreading it down the length of her spine.

Gliding my hands over her body, had my jaw tightening. I worked methodically, thumbs pressing into the knots at the base of her neck, palms sliding outward along the curve of her back. Her breathing deepened and her ass cheeks clenched.

I took my time covering every inch—shoulders, ribs, the small dip at the base of her spine. When my hands drifted lower, just shy of where the bottoms began, I forced myself to stop. She hummed and relaxed into the blanket. I shifted my position so I was seated beside her, back straight, posture angled outward.