Mea goes to meet Brett

The cabana bar glistens with condensation from freshly made cocktails, the scent of coconut sunscreen mingling with saltwater. Brett lounges against the counter, two drinks in hand, his gaze locked on the path Mea should appear from. When she rounds the corner, his tongue darts over his lips at the sight of her nipples pebbling under the flimsy fabric.

"Took you long enough," he teases, handing her a rum cocktail garnished with a lime wedge. His fingers linger against hers deliberately. "Though watching you walk here in that scrap of fabric was worth the wait." He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell me, sweetheart...how far do you want this morning to go?"

Her pulse thrums in her throat as the icy glass cools her sweating palms. *I shouldn't be here.* The thought wars with the way her body arches subtly toward Brett's heat. "I don't.." she starts, then swallows hard when his calloused thumb swipes across her bare shoulder. "God. I want to... but Max is still asleep and he doesn't know..." Her protest dies as Brett's teeth graze her earlobe.

He chuckles darkly, pressing the drink into her hand until condensation drips onto her thigh. "That bracelet says otherwise, darling." His other hand slides up her waist, fingertips branding her skin through the flimsy fabric. "Tell me to stop," he murmurs against her jaw, "and I walk away right now." The challenge in his voice makes her clench around nothing, he knows she won't.