“Uh-huh.” It was all he could manage.

She kissed him on both cheeks and then once on the mouth. “I’ll see you out there, big guy.”

“Uh-huh.”

She was reaching for the doorknob when he caught her and pulled her back against him. “Wait.”

She tilted her hips against him, teasing his half-hard dick with that sweet ass. “I don’t think we have time for another round,” she teased.

“Can I touch you? Out there I mean. Can I hold your hand? Dance with you?”

Remi turned in his arms to face him. She looked stunned. “Of course.”

“We haven’t been out in public together. We haven’t been together in front of your parents.” He needed to be able to touch her. To remind them both that while she was on this island, she belonged to him.

“Everyone knows we’re…you know. It’s not a big deal,” she said, patting his arm as if trying to reassure him.

Not a big deal. The words echoed in his head. We’re…you know. It was a big deal, and no, he didn’t fucking know. She was trying to shoehorn distance between them after she’d gotten on her knees for him. After he’d barely slept for a week trying to do this for her.

“Just don’t try to find out what kind of underwear I’ve got on under the table, or I might embarrass us both,” she said lightly.

It seemed there was only one language Remi understood. He caught her by the hair and dragged her over to the folding table that until about an hour ago had been buried under catering supplies.

“Brick! We don’t have time,” she said, her voice husky.

“Don’t make a sound,” he warned her as he forced her to fold over it.

The dress rode up indecently high, sending him into possessive overdrive. She was already pressing her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure. He’d relieve it for her. And in the process, he’d remind her that what they were to each other was a very big fucking deal.

Impatiently, he nudged her feet apart and shoved the skirt of her dress up. He loved the bite of the sequins against his skin, but it was the view he was obsessed with. She wore a skimpy black thong with straps that crisscrossed above and around her shapely cheeks.

“Hold on to the table,” he growled.

She obeyed, her entire body vibrating, anxiously anticipating what he was going to do to her. He wanted to punish her for making light of what they had. To parade her around the dance floor with his handprint hidden under that dress.

But more, he wanted her absolute submission. Wanted her helpless and needy.

For that, he sank to his knees behind her. He hooked his fingers into the delicate straps and dragged the material down to her thighs. She was shaking now as he admired how wet her folds were. There was no time for reverence though. Just enough time to dominate.