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Going to her house got her to agree, but it left me with a hard cock that couldn’t seem to control itself. In the shower, I’ve stroked myself and come to visions of her that night. She was wearing this thin, white dress. Her nipples pebbled beneath it, begging me to pinch them. Her beautiful face was completely bare, even that red lipstick was gone. Those plump lips were the same color as her face, except for the soft pink inner part, that peeked out when she pursed her lips. I’ve imagined that mouth around my cock more times than I can count.
I want to meet with her this morning before she heads to the office, so I stop by her house. We’ll be working closely on the project; I need to be able to spend time with her without getting a chubby. I figured this meeting would be good practice.
Now that I’m here, I realize it was a terrible idea. She’s on the deck, moving through what I think are yoga poses. She is focused on what she’s doing and oblivious to my presence. She looks invincible and completely at peace. I’m captivated as I watch her body’s graceful movements.
She comes out of her last pose and then walks over to the pool. She dips her toe in and then sits down so that her legs are submerged. Her head tips back to let the morning’s weak sun bathe her face. In profile, her perfect bone structure is revealed. The movement arches her back and forces her chest out. Her nipples are hard underneath her sports bra, and from where I’m standing, they’re like beacons begging me to move in their direction.
I feel my body responding to her. “You’re here for a reason, Reece, stop acting like a Peeping Tom and get your shit together,” I mumble under my breath. I turn the corner. Before I can say a word, the sun casts my shadow over her and she lets out a yelp and jumps up. She whips around and her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me, then she wavers just enough to lose her balance and fall backward into the pool.
It takes me a couple of seconds to realize she’s struggling. I drop my phone along with the bag I’m holding and jump into the pool wrapping my arms around her. That only makes her even more frantic. She starts to fight me and I throw her over my shoulder. She’s screaming like a banshee, arms flailing and pummeling me as she continues to panic. Thank God she’s so small, otherwise it would have been impossible to get us both out of the water safely.
“Stop moving, dammit,” I shout, trying to be heard over the ruckus she’s making. I put her down in front of me. Her eyes are closed, and she’s screaming bloody murder. She’s trembling and I start to rub my hands up and down her biceps to try to calm her down. “Luc, you’re fine,” I say, not shouting but still loudly enough for her to hear me. She stops screaming almost immediately, but doesn’t open her eyes.
“Lucía, open your eyes. You’re safe. You’re out the water,” I say, this time in a softer voice. I can see the terror on her face and I don’t want to do anything to agitate her and set her screaming again.
She doesn’t say anything but her eyes remain squeezed shut. Her trembling turns to a shiver. It’s early on a September morning, so there’s a slight chill in the air. I feel a shiver run through my body, too. I’m soaked; I didn’t even stop to kick my shoes off before I dove into the pool.
“Lucía, can you hear me? Let’s go inside so we can dry off. You’ll get sick if you stand out here like this.”
I’ve just decided that I need to pick her up and carry her inside when she speaks. Softly, in that low husky voice.
“I can’t swim.” Her eyes are open now, but glued to my chest.
“No shit,” I quip and that seems to snap her out of whatever trance she’s in.
Her eyes come up to my face and she takes a step back, putting not just physical distance, but a palpable emotional barrier between us. She frowns at me as she lifts her arms to wring the water out of her hair.
“You scared me. What are you doing here, anyway?” She doesn’t sound combative, but the glint in her eyes and the tight set of her jaw tell me she’s pissed and that it’s taking a Herculean effort to hide it.
“Well, for starters, I live here,” I say.
Her eyes go as wide as saucers. “I thought this was the guesthouse.” Her eyes dart around like she is looking for the nearest exit. “I thought you lived in LA. And I thought you were only here in the summer. Sol said I’d be alone.” The alarm is completely undisguised. And a part of me is tempted to tease her, but I have a feeling it wouldn’t go over well. So, I put her out of her misery.
“This is the guesthouse, I’m up at the main house. And while I do live in LA, for the next couple of weeks, I’ll be here full time. I’ve staked a lot on this film and I want to make sure things go smoothly.”
“Don’t you have clients in LA? Meetings?”
God she’s transparent. I didn’t realize that me being here would make her so uncomfortable. Does she dislike me?
“It’s LA, not Las Vegas. It’s a forty-five-minute drive. I’ll be back and forth.” I see her shoulders sag in relief. It shouldn’t bother me that she doesn’t want me here, but it does.
“Oh, okay.” She smiles the most insincere smile I’ve ever seen.
“It’s a good thing you’re not pursuing a career as an actress,” I say entering the house. I kick my shoes off before I open the door and step inside. She trots in after me, leaving a trail of water in her wake.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to seem like I don’t want you here. It’s just not what I expected.”
I dismiss her statement with a wave of my hand.
“Listen, we’re dripping wet, why don’t you go and get changed and then come back. I came over to talk to you before you meet with your team this morning.”
“What about you?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at my equally sodden clothes.
“I’ve got some clothes in my truck, I’ll go out and get them and I’ll change, too.”
She smiles another uncomfortable, closed mouth smile and then dashes off to her room.
I watch her go. Her yoga pants are a light blue and wet. I can see straight through them. God, she has a luscious ass.
