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Glancing over at Scarlett, I let my gaze sweep over her, taking in all that smooth, shiny skin. The gentle flare of her hips. The flat expanse of her stomach. The sweet swell of her tits.
I know exactly what would help alleviate my stress and calm me right down.
Sex.
But would my pretend girlfriend want to have sex with me?
Probably not.
I really do get the sense that Scarlett is feeling some kind of way about me, though. Like maybe with the right words and a few persuasive moves, I could have her beneath me by the end of the evening.
A couple of orgasms later, and we’d both be floating in that pool by tomorrow morning with giant smiles on our faces.
Worry smacks me right between the eyes, and I look away from her, focusing on the pool. The rippling blue water. What if I try to make a move and she slaps me and tries to have me arrested for sexual assault? What then?
Fuck that.
Deciding I need to keep my hands to myself, I remain on the lounger and watch as she eventually gets up, settling her sunglasses on the tiny table next to her before she stretches her arms above her head. The movement causes her tits to appear like they might pop out of her bikini top at any moment, and I wait anxiously for exactly that to happen.
No such luck. They remain covered, though her hard nipples press against the fabric.
Jesus.
The bikini is a fucking killer. Hot-pink triangles barely cover her chest, and those little bottoms don’t leave much to the imagination, though I’m still curious, not gonna lie.
Is she bare under the bottoms, or does she have a nice little landing strip? I’m guessing the latter. Only because I’m pretty certain our girl Scar here is a virgin.
A few weeks ago, that would’ve meant I’d avoid her at all costs. No way would I want to be responsible for that sort of thing. Dealt with it a lot during my heyday, and there was plenty of emotional damage done.
By me.
Yeah. Not my proudest moments.
But this woman and I are legally bound in our fake relationship, and what the hell is wrong with us dabbling in sex together? I’m attracted to her. Despite the original prissy attitude and the earlier obvious disdain she felt toward me, Scarlett’s definitely come around. She’s much more relaxed around me, and that last kiss we shared was pretty fucking spectacular.
Wouldn’t mind a repeat performance—privately.
And why couldn’t it happen? We’re young. We’re attracted to each other. Hell, she used to have a raging crush on me during her formative teenage years, and I’m fairly certain she’s still interested in me. Like, I could make a move on her, and the chances are in my favor she wouldn’t say no.
I felt her gaze roaming over me earlier, when I first sat down next to her. I know she was checking me out, and fuck if my dick didn’t try to rise to the occasion thanks to her wandering eyes.
She turns her back to me, her feet curling around the edge of the pool. Her ass cheeks are hanging out of the bikini bottoms, and I run a hand over my mouth to smother my groan. This girl...
Is definitely trying to kill me.
With little warning and surprising grace, she quickly shifts into position and dives in the pool, barely making a splash. I watch as she glides under the water, her feet barely moving, her body sleek and sexy, until her head pops out of the water in the deep end, her hands rising to smooth her hair away from her face. She’s treading water right in front of me, and I stare at her, noting the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. Her lips are curved into an inviting smile as she says, “You should jump in.”
Her voice is soft and seductive.
Inviting.
“Oh yeah?” I act like I’m not interested.
Her eyebrows pinch together like they sometimes do, a little crease forming in between them. “It feels really good. Refreshing.”
“The water?” I’m teasing her.
“Well, yeah.” Her hand cuts through the water as she tries to splash me, and a couple of droplets hit my leg. “You should get in here.”
