Jason leaned casually against the poolside bar, the sun-kissed water reflecting in the light blue of his eyes. He nursed a beer, his free hand occasionally sweeping through his tousled brown hair, a clear sign of his growing impatience.

Weston, with his fair hair and captivating charm, was holding court among a gaggle of admirers, recounting some tale of his latest escapades. His animated gestures and boisterous laugh barely registered with Jason, though. He was on autopilot, responding with half-hearted chuckles, his attention elsewhere.

The crowd around them ebbed and flowed, a myriad of sun-drenched bodies moving in rhythm to the pulsating beats that filled the air. Jason's gaze, however, remained fixed on the entrance to the pool area, searching for one face in particular. When she finally appeared, his heart clenched in a mix of relief and sudden agitation. She wasn't wearing the outfit they had agreed upon—a modest one-piece complemented by a pair of denim shorts. Instead, she was clad in a bikini that left little to the imagination, her skin glistening under the unrelenting sun.

Jason excused himself mid-conversation, his strides purposeful and his jaw set. Weston's voice faded into the background as Jason approached her, his possessive instincts flaring. He towered over her, blocking her from the eyes that had already begun to stray in her direction.

"What are you wearing?" he demanded, his rough voice low and tinged with an edge of possessiveness that he made no effort to hide. "This is too much skin, baby." He swept a scrutinizing look over her, the protective and jealous part of him wanting to wrap her up and hide her away from prying eyes. "I thought you were going to wear a one-piece? Where are your shorts?" His words came out more demanding than intended, his deep-seated fear of losing her, of not being enough, surfacing despite his confident exterior.