Page 6 of Hidden Desires

“I think about them a lot,” she says breezily. “Mostly about crossing them.”

The way the young girl looks at me—flirtatious, with challenge in her eyes—makes me want to do something idiotic and irreversible. And if not for the sound of Gerald’s return, I might.

The rest of lunch is a study in self-control. Eliza’s foot stays exactly where she left it, and every time I glance at her, she’s got the look of an innocent princess on her face, all sweet and unassuming. Gerald has no fucking clue that his daughter’s foot is about an inch from fondling my balls.

When the meal is over, Gerald stands to clear the plates and says, “Eliza, can you show Jack the pool? I’ll handle cleanup.”

She stands, stretching in a way that should be illegal in at least ten states, and grins. “Sure, Dad. I’ll give him the tour.”

Gerald is still talking as he heads inside. “Make sure you point out the new deck, too. Cost me a fortune—damn contractors…”

As soon as the patio door closes, Eliza cocks her head. “Want to see something cool?”

I’m not sure if it’s a threat or a promise, but either way, I nod.

She leads the way around the side of the house, hips swaying with practiced insolence, and I follow—because I’ve never been a smart man when it comes to women, and I’m not about to start now.

The “pool tour” should be short and simple, but Eliza draws it out, skipping ahead on bare feet, hips doing figure-eights, golden hair swinging. I tell myself I’m following her to keep an eye on the kid, a legacy of military duty and best-friend loyalty, but let’s call a spade a spade: I just want to look at the lush girl, with her big tits and sweet smile. She wants me to look too. The only question is how far she’s willing to push this game.

The backyard pool is ringed with tall, feathery ornamental grass and a fake-stone patio that’s clearly seen a few parties. The water’s the color of topaz, and there’s a faint smell of chlorine and sunscreen. But this isn’t your average tour because Eliza doesn’t bother with small talk. As soon as we’re out of sight from the house, she drops her sunglasses on a lounge chair, hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts, and peels them off in one smooth motion. There’s a flick of her ass as she does it, and I nearly pull something trying not to react. She’s got tiny bikini bottoms on in a gorgeous teal blue, and the cut is—let’s just say, it’s not designed for laps. Or maybe it is, but not the kind you swim.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl.

She spins around to look at me, innocence on those pretty features.

“Why, don’t you like to swim Uncle Jack?”

I shake my head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think this is what you dad meant when he said a tour.”

Eliza merely shrugs, and then pulls her tank top up and then off, leaving her in nothing but those tiny bikini bottoms and an even tinier triangle top. I swear, the cloth is nothing but two postage stamps covering her nipples, held together by a bit of string. My cock jerks as I stare at all that luscious white flesh, escaping from the sides and bottoms.

“You coming in?” she asks sweetly.

I shake my head, determined to keep at least one boundary un-crossed. “I’m good. Don’t want to get these jeans wet.” I try to sound casual, but my voice is tight as a hangman’s knot.

Eliza smiles and then dives in, barely splashing. She comes up for air and flips her hair back in a move so practiced it has to be genetic. “Suit yourself,” she purrs, then starts a lazy breaststroke, every movement a dare.

I park myself on a lounge chair, position it so I can see the back door, the side yard, and most importantly, the whole pool. Part of me is terrified Gerald will show up snarling because he sees me staring at his daughter like a hungry beast. But the rest of me is fixated on the way Eliza’s bikini bottoms disappear every time she kicks off the wall, the top hanging on by a miracle and a whisper of spandex.

After a few laps, the beautiful blonde stops right in front of me. We’re shielded from the house by a large bush, but I don’t know. Gerald could pop out at any moment. Nonetheless, Eliza merely smiles, unconcerned.

“Come in,” she invites again, her voice a throaty purr. “The water’s warm.”

“I don’t have a swimsuit, sweetheart,” I rasp, my blue eyes trailing over every inch of ivory skin exposed. “You go ahead and enjoy yourself.”

Eliza pauses for a moment and then lets out a throaty laugh. As I watch, her hands circle behind her neck, and then it happens. The strings of her bikini top come loose and the material falls into the water, exposing those enormous breasts. She’s gorgeous, smiling at me coyly as she plays with her red raspberry nipples.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in, Uncle Jack?” she purrs again. “Like I said, the water’s warm.”

I want nothing more but to get in the pool with her before sucking on those succulent teats. I want to kiss the young girl before licking and pinching her nipples, and then parting her legs and licking her pussy as she moans and sighs with pleasure. Then, I’ll blast sperm straight into her wet cunt as she wails and keens, raising a ruckus with her parents just inside.

But I can’t.

“No, sweetheart,” I manage in a rasp, my eyes never leaving those big breasts. “It’s wrong. You’re my best friend’s little girl, and he’d never forgive me.”

“But Gerald will never know,” Eliza mewls before smiling at me once more, her hands cupping those luscious ivory globes. Then she smiles again. “Well, if you won’t come in and kiss them for me, then I’ll have to do it myself.”