by Tawny Taylor
Chapter Two
Stephanie slammed the front door and yelled into the air, “Jeremy, I see you’ve learned a new trick, you bastard! Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
Frustrated by the fact that she couldn’t smack him, she spun around in the air throwing her fists into every inch of space she could reach. Just once, she wished she could do some serious damage. This wasn’t fair. “Where the hell are you, you little weasel? God, I want to smack you silly. Why don’t you speak to me? Huh? Why stay silent and just do stupid things like set people’s clothing on fire and dump water on their heads?”
Then a thought dawned on her.
That made no sense whatsoever. Water and fire didn’t mix. Why would he set a fire only to snuff it out with a crapload of ice water?
Unless someone or something else was to blame.
If Jeremy hadn’t been at fault, where did the water come from?
“I’m thinking I might be able to get around you, my not-so-pleasant friend,” she said aloud as the gears in her head started spinning. “It seems someone else is looking out for Rafe’s shorts and I’m willing to test my theory.” She tried to think of a place with lots of water for a first date.
A Jacuzzi! Nothing could be better. At least the water would be warm. She knew the perfect place. It would be private, romantic.
She dashed outside and knocked on his front door. The second he opened the door, she said, “You’re on. The Bubbly Tub on Main. One o’clock. Wear your bathing suit.” When he didn’t object, she took that as a yes and ran back into her house to make preparations.
She shaved every part of her body smooth and donned her sexiest bikini and waterproof makeup.
“I’m gonna get lucky today!” she proclaimed as she stuffed a handful of rubbers into her gym bag and shimmied into a pair of loose jogging pants and a jacket. She packed a towel, a few snacks, a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses then drove the couple of miles to their meeting place—one of those tanning and tub places where they rented the tubs by the hour. Her step lively, she half-walked, half-skipped inside. The glasses and wine bottle rattled in her bag.
Rafe was waiting for her in the lobby and did he ever look scrumptious. His swim trunks were a little bulky for her taste but she figured they wouldn’t stay on for long anyway. Above the waist, he wore a jogging jacket over a snug T-shirt that gave a hint of the perfect pecs hidden underneath. His hair was back to its usual slightly mussed state, which she found adorable. And his crooked, slightly wicked grin was firmly in place.
Oh yeah. Today would be a day to remember.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he said. “Thought maybe it was a joke.”
“Oh, no. I wasn’t joking.”
His gaze raked over her body and she squirmed with pleasure. “I see that now. But before we go inside, I want to tell you I don’t think it was your ex-husband who threw the water.”
Now that was a shocker. “Then who?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to tell me later. We have all afternoon if you like,” she offered, although talking was the last thing she had in mind. She was determined to make every minute count.
He paid for the Paradise Room, a cozy suite complete with changing area, stall shower and hot tub, then held the door for her. “Shall we?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.” After stepping inside, she set her bag on the changing area counter and unzipped her jacket. The room was steamy, like a jungle, which suited the décor perfectly. Hordes of tropical plants lined all four walls around the central sunken tub. The walls themselves were covered with one of those real-looking photographic murals. All in all, the room had a very sensual but tranquil feeling. Perfect for what she had in mind. “So what’s the story about the water?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took off the jacket and T-shirt, baring his entire upper body.
Holy smoke!
Maybe she could ask about the water later. Considering how long she’d waited for unimpeded sex, the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was chitchat about an insignificant detail. Who cared, as long as it kept him from having his drawers burned? Let the water flow!
She swallowed an enthusiastic shout of approval and maintained some dignity. She kept one eye on his shorts, looking for smoke or flames, as she hungrily drank in the sight of his sun-kissed torso. My goodness, the Mother Sun loved him. There wasn’t an inch of his shoulders, arms, stomach or back that wasn’t the color of chocolate milk. His smooth-skinned chest rivaled those she’d seen in magazines and his shoulders were the perfect breadth to lean upon. She figured his upper arms had to be about the same circumference as her thighs.
“Just curious. How many hours a day do you spend in the gym?” She felt a bit of drool trying to dribble from the corner of her mouth and swallowed.
“A couple, three or four nights a week. I used to spend more time, practically every night, but I’ve backed away a bit. Want to live a more balanced life, you know?” He lifted a foot, propping it on a bench, and bent over to untie his shoe, giving her a perfect shot of his rear end.
Would he mind if she bit it?
She bit her lip instead. “Balanced is good.”
“That’s the way I think too. A little bit of everything, in moderation. That’s the way to live.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Would he think sex twice a night, moderation? Or maybe three times? Surely any more than that would be beyond moderation, wouldn’t it?
She took off her jacket and hung it on the hook on the wall then sat on the bench to take off her shoes.
He switched to the other foot, resting it next to her thigh on the bench. His gaze traveled lazily, taking its sweet time, over her face, chest and bare stomach. “You look pretty fit yourself. Do you work out?”
“Not unless you count running after the mailman or sprinting to the shortest checkout line at the grocery store.”
“If it keeps you looking like that, it counts.” He pulled off his shoe, balled his sock and stuffed it inside, then stood.
Sitting where she was, eye level to his groin, it was easy to see exactly how much he appreciated the subject of their conversation. A noticeable bulge had formed in the front of his drawers.
Things were looking promising indeed!
Unfortunately, he moved beyond reach before she could do anything about it.
She quickly pulled off her jogging pants and hung them on the wall hook with the jacket. As she turned to face him, she sucked in a breath and pushed out her chest to make her stomach look nice and flat and her boobs look bigger.
His hungry expression suggested her effort had created exactly the effect she had been shooting for.
“Wine?” she asked, still holding her breath.
“Sure. I brought some. It’s in my bag.”
“Me too. What’d you bring?” She rummaged through her stuff, digging to the bottom where the bottle had sunk. Finally feeling it, she lifted it out.
“I brought this Shiraz,” he said. “It was recommended by…”
“Wine Spectator dot com?” she finished for him as she read the label on his bottle. “We brought the same wine. How ironic.”
“At least we know we share the same taste in wines.” He reached into his bag, produced a corkscrew and began the process of opening his bottle.
More content to watch his biceps bunch and flex as he twisted the corkscrew, she blindly rummaged for her glasses and set them on the bench. “And homes,” she pointed out. “We share the same taste in homes.”
He nodded, pushed the two side arms of the corkscrew down and gave the handle a tug. “Very true. I hadn’t thought about that.” The cork slid free of the bottle with a delightful pop. He poured some wine into both glasses, set the bottle down and after handing a glass to her, lifted his. “A toast?”
“Sure.”
“How about to neighbors?”
“To neighbors.” She tou
ched her glass to his then lifted it to her mouth, forcing herself to sip daintily rather than succumb to the temptation to gulp. She was nervous as heck. A little wine was always a good cure for the jitters. And this wine was extraordinary, delightful, fruity and sweet, smooth, just the way she liked it. Half a glass went down easy.
Thankfully, she didn’t drink often, so that small amount was like liquid courage. She felt alive…and eager to explore the hidden parts of her neighbor’s anatomy. She walked to the hot tub and sat on the deck to put her feet into the water.
He sat next to her, his arm grazing her shoulder. “How’s the wine?”
Her body registering a strange mix of hot and cold, she shivered. She realized her feet stung and lifted them out of the water. “Delicious. Water’s a little too hot though.”
“Not a problem. We can turn down the thermostat.” He stood to find the controls, but seeing the ribbon of smoldering smoke, Jeremy’s doing no doubt, coming from the back of his shorts, she caught his wrist and gave it a firm yank. Caught completely off guard, he toppled into the tub and landed with a huge splash. “What was that for?” he challenged as he stood up, shook his head and sent sparkling droplets of water flying through the air.
She feigned shock. “Oh my gosh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to get your attention to let you know…” The rest of the sentence kind of got lost somewhere between her head and her mouth.
He was looking at her with the fiercest expression imaginable. It gave her shivers—the good kind. Without speaking a word, he scooped her into his amazing arms, her side pressed against his equally amazing chest…and dropped her into the water.
The sound of churning, thrashing water blasted her ears as she sunk to the bottom. And as she stood, that not-quite-pleasant sound was replaced by a much better one—the sound of his chuckles.
She lunged forward and tried to knock him over but failed miserably. It felt like she’d run smack-dab into a brick wall. He was totally immobile.
Unable to see clearly, thanks to her hair hanging in long, wavy clumps over her face, she gave up on the direct approach, fell back onto the submerged seat, tipped her head back and smoothed her hair away from her face.
He stood before her, waist-deep in the churning, frothy water and folded his arms across his chest. “Truce?”
“Truce.” For now. Suddenly very thirsty, she reached for her wine glass and polished off the rest.
What a combination! Delicious wine, bubbles and a hot man.
She eyed his mostly full glass and felt guilty for downing hers so quickly. She’d never out-drunk a man before. “Don’t you want yours?”
“Not right now.”
“How about a snack?”
He nodded. “I’m hungry.” Her gaze locked to his tongue as it darted out to moisten his lips. “But not for food.”
Those four words were enough to make her shiver with delight. And his expression—fierce man on the hunt—was enough to make her pussy tingle with expectation.
Considering the fire she saw burning in his eyes, he moved much slower than she would have thought as he dropped in front of her and lowered his bulk over top of her chest. Eager to have every inch of his body pressed against hers, she opened her legs to let his hips settle between them. This was heaven! His chest grazed her nipples through the thin material of her bikini and she felt them harden. He tipped his head and nibbled on her neck, his tongue and teeth producing goose bumps over her arms and shoulders.
She instinctively started rocking her hips, pressing her pussy against the thick, hard rod housed in those baggy nylon swim trunks.
He gave a low growl and slid his hands up her legs and around her hips until they were snugly wedged under her bottom. Then he lifted her, sat back and lowered her on top of him. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he grumbled.
“Neither do you.”
His mouth pressed against hers in a fevered kiss full of urgency and heat. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth and she opened to him. This time, it did more than a tango. It plunged in and out, writhed around, dipping and tasting every bit of her in a wild, untamed dance. Her body stiffened, her legs opened wider, her pussy grated against his cock.
She was on fire, figuratively, and all she could think of was getting those shorts off and impaling herself on that glorious rod.
He lifted his hands and unhooked her bikini top. It fell down to her waist, exposing her breasts, and he wasted no time feasting first on one, pulling the nipple into his mouth and suckling, and then the other. Her head filled with their combined moans and groans of pleasure.
More. She wanted more. She wanted it all.
Standing, she pulled her bikini bottom down and tossed it aside then reached into the foamy froth to find the drawstring to his shorts. Her fingers traced the line of his cock and she heard him suck in a sharp breath.
He caught her wrists before she could do anything else and lifted them out of the water. “Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for? Don’t you want to?”
“Oh believe me, I want to. I just want to make sure you want to do what I want to, if you know what I mean. I’m not convinced I know how to read you yet, not after this morning. And if we go any further I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.”
“Okay, read this. Hell yes.”
“That’s all I needed.” He tipped his hips, slid off his shorts, balled them up and lobbed them into the eight-foot banana tree in the corner. The he grabbed her waist and pulled sharply. His erect cock, submerged in bubbles, pressed at her labia.
“What about a rubber?” she asked, hesitating before impaling herself and taking what she hungered for so badly. Head to toe she was stiff and shaking. Tension coiled tight in her belly as excitement and expectation sent wave after wave of giddy heat through her body. “Do they work under water?”
“I hope so. Problem is, they’re over there.” He pointed toward the banana tree with the shorts dangling from the top.
“I have some.” She reluctantly pried herself free from his tight grip, no easy task and not a particularly enjoyable one, and climbed out of the tub to retrieve the rubbers she’d stashed in her bag. Praying she wouldn’t look too hopeful, she took the whole strip with her when she returned to the tub.
Better to have them handy than to have to make another dash to the bag later.
He laughed and motioned toward the line of rubbers dangling from her fist. “Have big plans for me, I see.”
“A girl’s gotta be prepared. As it turns out, it was a good thing I brought these or you’d be climbing that tree over there in the nude. I can’t imagine that would feel too good.”
“No, probably not.” He reached backward and pushed himself up and out of the water and it was only then that she caught her first glimpse of what had been formerly hidden from view.
Holy shit! She should have bought the king-size. She couldn’t help staring. Was it real?
Suddenly aware of her gaping mouth, she shut it.
“Weren’t prepared for that, were ya?”
“Not exactly.” She glanced down at her hand. “Er, I hope “one size fits all”. When it comes to women’s fashion it sure doesn’t.”
“They should be fine.” He crooked a finger at her and lowered his eyebrows. “Come on over here and let’s check.”
Her feet felt like cement blocks as she trudged slowly toward him. A whole lot of excitement and a little bit of dread were a powerful elixir, producing some very interesting and unsettling results. Her knees felt wobbly, her heart was beating way too fast for comfort and her head was a little foggy.
Forget about the rubbers. Would that fit in there? She’d never had anyone that big before. And it had been so long since she’d had sex. Hadn’t she read that pussies shrink from lack of use? Would it feel like she was a virgin all over again?
“Maybe it would be better if we did this out of the water,” she offered, figuring she’d need every bit of lubrican
t that rubber had on it. The water would wash it all away otherwise. At least Jeremy couldn’t start the poor guy’s shorts on fire now. Not only were they all the way over there, but they were also sopping wet.
“I’m game. Wherever you like is fine with me.”
Feeling both excited and a little shy and awkward, she glanced nervously around the room. It wasn’t exactly made for fucking. All the surfaces were rough and hard. Wood, metal, stone. Ouch.
The bench where she’d undressed looked about as good as it got. At least it had a thin padded seat. “There?”
He stood and walked toward her, that enormous cock bobbing up and down with each step. She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat but it didn’t budge.
Instead of sitting, like she expected him to do, he caught her shoulders in his big hands and eased her backward until the bench’s seat pressed against the backs of her legs.
“Sit.”
She sat.
He kneeled on the floor before her and rested his hands on her knees. His gaze lifted to her face. “I want to taste you.”
Her pussy pulsed as blood drained from every other part of her and gathered there. Unable to speak, she nodded.
He eased her knees apart and leaned forward. His first touch was soft, teasing, tantalizing. It skirted around her labia, tickling her inner thighs. She sighed and let her legs part wider as her need grew more urgent.
Empty, tingly and wet, her pussy ached to be filled. And that bittersweet discomfort only increased when he parted her labia and flickered his warm, moist tongue over her clit.
Blades of heat pierced her body with each quick swipe of his tongue, and when he pressed two long fingers inside, she moaned in ecstasy.
She could hear her own juices as he hooked his fingers to scrape against the sensitive upper wall and plunged them in and out in a fierce finger-fuck. Instinctively, her body tensed as she felt the first tingles of an approaching climax. “Fuck me,” she begged, her throat suddenly raw, her eyes closed tightly to shut out the world of sensations her mind couldn’t register. She was lost in her need, her body, mind and spirit focused on only one thing, the need to be one with him. “Fuck me now.”