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I toss the sheet over the second taut line. From the opposite side, she adjusts and smooths the fabric. At the foot of the two beds, it creates a short hallway of sorts.

“Which bed is yours,” I ask.

She pulls aside the sheet to answer. “The one with one view.” She looks at me like, duh.

“You get the view and the bed closest to the bathroom? I don’t remember this part of the negotiation.”

“You snooze, you lose.” She secures the sheets with clothespins.

“Unless I win the good bed back,” I say.

“How would you do that?” She turns to me, a hand lodged on the curve of her hip.

I look to the ceiling and consider, and then I snap my fingers. “I know.” My gaze falls to hers. “Every time I best you, you have to switch beds with me.”

“Only if every time I best you, you sleep at my feet, on the floor.”

I chuckle. “Brutal.” I reach out my hand, eager to touch hers again.

When they connect in a shake of agreement, there’s no electricity this time. Instead, her touch is warm, which makes me want to hold her close.

Her eyes glimmer at the challenge, and I wonder if she feels this thing too.

Does she know being near her feels like the beginning of something? That when I’m with her, nothing else seems to matter? That if we were locked in this room together, I might never leave?

“One rule, though,” I say and tug her close. “Let’s try not to kill each other like in your sicko movie. I don’t want to make my fans cry.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll turn your ashes into a diamond and auction you off to the highest bidder. Then I’ll use the money to re-educate your fans on what real food tastes like.” She squeezes my hand.

“How can someone so cute be so wicked?” I squeeze hers back.

Sophia pauses at that comment, as if she didn’t realize I found her attractive. She quickly recovers her sass and releases my hand.

“So, near-death strangulation is still on the table?” Her eyelashes flutter playfully, cynically.

“Delusional, cute, and kinky. Even better.” I smirk.

“You’ll never know,” she whispers near my face.

Her nearness and the sound of the challenge might as well be an invisible lasso tugging on my dick. It awakens with a yank. My lips tip and pour into a grin. Every interaction with her is so deviously delicious. It’s the icing on our crazy cake.

In the hallway, someone clears their throat.

Sophia and I hop away from each other like teenagers whose parents caught us grinding against each other on the basement couch.

Her cheeks warm to a beautiful shade that matches her lips. Which makes me recall an online article that claimed a woman’s natural lip color matches their nipple color. And now I’m imagining Sophia’s perfect tits, even though they are safely hidden behind the bodice of her flowery sundress.

“We’re ready for you downstairs,” Casey says, interrupting my daydream.

“Be there in a sec.” I rock back on my heels and my attention swings to Sophia. “So, roomie, are you brave enough to stay and watch me film?”

18/

sophia

If It’s Too Hot, Blow Harder

As Amelia and I pass through the kitchen, Gio stands behind the counter, organizing his cooking supplies. Beside him, the glass doors are open, allowing the sea breeze inside. The view reaches across the pool and to the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean and the palm trees, which create a stunning backdrop.