The Sweetest Sting

6

A few hours after the breakfast debacle, the air was still so thick with tension Rora could hardly breathe. Ozzy, looking frazzled, had tried to pull her aside to chat yet again and she'd simply told him no and walked away. She felt awful about him seeing her nearly kiss Marshall, but not awful enough to have some pointless conversation with him about it. If she could handle hearing Grace suck him off, then he could handle seeing his brother make a move on her.

Marshall, for his part, seemed unbothered by his brother's mood. Though, oddly, he seemed very bothered by Lewie's continued attentiveness. Every time he joked with Rora, touched her, batted her hair, she could feel Marshall's scowl.

And then there was Amelia. There was always Amelia. Now there was even more Amelia. Her sister had been hovering around, asking intrusive questions about her friendship with Lewie. And every time Lewie wasn't near Rora, he seemed to be pulled aside by her twin.

Ugh. Unable to take any more of that, Rora had retreated to the sun loungers. She certainly didn't need a tan, but lying down with her sunglasses on, pretending to be dozing, gave her some semblance of peace.

She'd almost managed to relax when a shout rang out. "Text!" Flo yelled. "Got a text!"

"Nooo," Rora groaned. She blew out a long breath before scrambling off the lounger and following behind everyone rushing to the villa. Before she could catch up to the crowd, warm hands turned her around, gripped her waist, and deftly hoisted her over a muscled shoulder.

She couldn't do anything but laugh as Lewie carried her like she weighed nothing. "Why are you like this?" she shrieked.

"What? Why have all these muscles if I can't use them?"

"I have muscles of my own," she said. "Maybe. I suspect they're under there, anyhow."

"They're there, but they looked like they needed a rest." He bounced her upwards, sliding his hands up the back of her legs, and her breath caught at the boldness. His long fingers dug into the soft skin of her inner thighs, parting them slightly, gripping her just firm enough to graze his fingers against the underside of her ass. She gave a soft hum of pleasure and barely reigned in her desire to press into his fingers.

They reached the villa sitting room, where Flo held her phone aloft, as if she was presenting the new Lion King to his kingdom.

Much to Rora's disappointment, Lewie slid her off his shoulder and slowly down his body. Her breasts, nipples rigid, dragged down his naked chest. A bright white flash of heat shot through her, as he settled her onto the ground.

"I think I just realised why you do that," she murmured, dizzy from the rush of warmth.

He gave a careless smile and wriggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh again. Then, he spun her around so she was facing the same direction as the rest of the group, and pulled her close, her back against him. She found herself pushing back into him and was rewarded by a pleasant rumble in his chest.

Flo cleared her throat and read from her phone. "'Islanders, we're told it's going to be an awfully chilly evening. So, what better way to make things hot, than with a heart-rate challenge?'"

An excited hum buzzed through the room, but Flo held up her hand and kept reading. "'We don't want you to get cold and bored, so you'll be raising heart-rates with lap dances.'"

Rora turned her head and suddenly locked stares with the hazel eyes that had filled her dreams before returning from Casa. Ozzy's lips suddenly curved into a confident smile that mostly made her angry.

"This is hardly fair," Grace said. "My man's a professional dancer! I can barely keep my heartrate down when he's not grinding on me." Everyone else broke into chuckles, but Rora tore her gaze from Ozzy. Grace's Ozzy.