“Your first time?”
“Never seen the ocean before,” I confess.
“For real?”
“Nah, we don't have one in the middle of the outback,” I tease.
“You don't say…”
He gives my thigh a playful squeeze.
“Should've stuck around. We could have made our own beach in the bathroom.”
He leans close to whisper in my ear.
“Swim suits optional.”
I add another handful of ice cubes to my belly.
Hopefully it might delay the inevitable heat between my legs.
Too late.
“Couldn't trust myself to stay here,” I say, turning to meet his gaze.
“No?”
“I’d just seen you naked.”
“I was hoping you’d follow me…”
“Porter. You know we shouldn’t. That's just asking for trouble.”
But I don’t mean a word of it.
“I like trouble,” he says, running a hand across my hip. “You're my kind of trouble.”
???
Holding a half melted piece of ice between finger and thumb, I take a risk.
Tracing a curve around his nipple, I watch it harden.
My mouth warms the skin, cool beneath my tongue.
His breath shallows slightly.
Our eyes remain fixed on one another.
A hint of sun emerges along the windowsill.
The second ice cube travels further south.
I guide it around his belly button and along the waistband of his pants.
He skims a shard across my shoulder and along my arm.
Then as if to signal his intention, he draws an icy line across my lower lip.
