At the Brink

by Anna del Mar

  “What do you mean, what have I done?” I said. “Let’s see, I sketched. I got in the pool—never dove into it, never—I had lunch, took some pictures...”

  “I mean what have you done to your body?”

  I looked down on myself. “What’s wrong with my body?”

  “Your skin.” He stepped up to me and, pulling aside a bit of fabric from my bikini bottom, examined my tan lines. “You’re burned.”

  “I’m not burned, I’m tanned.”

  “You’re burned,” he said again. “Didn’t Rosa tell you to use suntan lotion?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “When I give you directions I expect you to follow them.”

  “I wanted to avoid being green this winter.”

  “And I wasn’t planning on you having tan lines.”

  I gawked. “You weren’t planning on my tan lines?”

  “I told you. I have ideas about how I want things to be, and you agreed to make those ideas a reality.”

  This brilliant, successful, gorgeous hunk of a man was irreparably nuts. “Are you listening to what you’re saying?”

  “Wrinkles,” he said, “sunspots, melanoma, you could do some serious damage to your skin. I gave you suntan lotion for a reason.”

  “And I used it! Can’t you see? I’m not burned. I’m not red, I won’t blister, and if I get wrinkles and white hair they’re going to be your doing, not the sun’s! I just got a little bit of color, a healthy tan that I find attractive.”

  “What happens if I don’t find it attractive?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe you can toss me out with the trash? How about that?”

  I stomped off the beach and headed up the steps, cursing the tiny bikini for riding up between my cheeks.

  He followed. “Lily, you’re being childish.”

  “And you’re being ridiculous.” I arrived at the pool deck and guzzled down the water in my bottle, wishing it was a strong cocktail instead. “I messed up. Sorry. Next time, I’ll wear more lotion. Nothing I can do about it now.”

  “Yes, there is,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Show me.”

  “Show you what?”

  “The tan lines,” he said. “I want to see them.”

  Good grief. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Take off your top.”

  Not again. “For God’s sake, Josh. We’re outdoors.”

  “And alone,” he said.

  “What about all those security cameras of yours?”

  He pulled out his cell and punched a few buttons that resulted in a quiet whirl somewhere above my head. “There. The cameras are no longer trained on us. “It’s just me, and I want to see these tan lines that you so selfishly inflicted on your body.”

  He reached behind my neck, and undoing the string, took off my top.

  I just stood there, looking down at my toes, or better put, looking beyond my puckered nipples at my toes.

  “Don’t slouch,” he said, staring at my breasts.

  I straightened.

  “Hmm.”

  “What do you mean, hmm?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Whether I like your tan lines or not.”

  I squirmed under his protracted silence. “Well?”

  “It’s an interesting effect,” he said. “A lighter halo around your darker halo, a triangle about your circle. But the tan lines are kind of intrusive. They’re unexpected.”

  “Is that so wrong?”

  “I don’t like surprises,” he said.

  No, he wouldn’t.

  “Take off your bottom.”

  “Josh!”

  “What?”

  “Must you always be so rude?”

  “How am I being rude?” he said. “By telling you what I want?”

  I crossed my arms.

  “Okay, let me think.” He added the magic word. “Please.”

  I knew resisting him was pointless. He wasn’t about to back down. Plus, the sight of his pants tenting over his groin set my body abuzz. It was also kind of exciting to bare my body for him, the body he’d liked so much last night. I was pretty sure that sudden surges of pheromones had a devastating effect on a girl’s modesty. It also made me a little reckless.

  I took off my bottom. I stood naked with only the coconut trees between me and the tropical sun. Josh’s eyes were glued to my body as if I were some sort of swimsuit edition model, minus the swimsuit.

  “This is a definite improvement,” he said.

  “An improvement?”

  “Yep, it’s like X marks the spot, or like those reflective lines on the highway. From now on, I think I might require you to have tan lines down there. That way, I can find your pussy, even in the dark.” His lips twitched. His eyes turned whisky-light.

  I faked about half of my outrage. “Can I get dressed now?”

  “Nope,” he said, uncoiling his magnificent body on a chaise like a mighty python. “Why don’t you go for a swim in the pool, Lily? Twenty laps should suffice. Count them out loud for me. Please.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it. “Are you punishing me?”

  “Your term, not mine,” he said. “Physical exercise sharpens the mind and helps focus the memory. As you swim, you want to remember that from now on, whether it’s sticking close to home, putting on suntan lotion, getting in the water or refraining from diving in the pool, however simple, you’ll follow my instructions.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “You can try seeing what happens, but let me warn you. The only other way I know to help you remember is pretty medieval and I don’t think you’d like it, at least not just yet.”

  I made my way to the pool with as much dignity as a naked me could manage. Daring a man like Josh Lane wasn’t wise. He just wasn’t like the rest of us. His fantasies were precise and compelling, gripping and extensive and he went beyond the common boundaries to procure them.

  An inexplicable thrill coursed through me. How had I become so deeply entangled in his fantasies? When had I become the object of his fancies?

  The cool water refreshed the heat burning in my body. Maybe I’d gotten sunburned after all. As I started my first lap with a rusty breast stroke dangerously close to the original dog paddle, I tried to remember why I was doing this.

  Mom. Parkview. WindTech. Martin. Me.

  My strokes grew more assured with every lap. My breath grew short. My muscles burned. I wondered if I’d be able to finish twenty laps. I’d never been a strong swimmer. I didn’t know if I had the strength—emotional or physical—to keep up with Josh Lane.

  I sneaked a look in his direction. He might be hiding behind his tablet, but the bulge in his pants revealed his attention hadn’t strayed from me. I shuddered even though the water wasn’t really cold. I kept going. I couldn’t figure out if my determination meant acceptance, collusion or defeat, but I’d finish the twenty laps come hell or high water.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Josh

  The sight of Lily’s naked body parting the water had me on edge. The way the liquid splashed and rippled over her skin mesmerized me. Her arms and legs pumped at my command, and although she didn’t know it, my heart beat at hers.

  When the twenty laps were done, I waited for her by the shallow end of the pool. She squinted up at me, hair slicked away from her face, chest heaving from the effort. I twined my arms around hers and pulled her out of the pool, crushing her in an embrace. Water soaked my shirt and seeped through to my skin, but it didn’t cool me down. Gasping for air, she clung to me, a sleek, wet gift delivered into my arms.

  “Well done,” I murmured against her hair.

 
“I didn’t know if I could do it,” she said, winded.

  I tilted her chin until her eyes met mine. “I knew you could do it all along.”

  I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her. Christ, every molecule in my body buzzed from the contact. I looked around, trying to figure out how to proceed. She had a natural way of testing my discipline and defying my self-control. I had to improvise.

  “Lily,” I said. “I need you to do some things for me.”

  Her eyes widened. In her gaze I saw fear mixing with desire, a lethal combination. I grabbed her bikini top and tied it loosely around her wrists, just enough to keep her hands out of trouble. Then I took the bikini bottom and, untying the ends, placed the little strip over her eyes and fastened it behind her head.

  “You don’t want me to see you,” she said. “You don’t want me to touch you either. Why not?”

  She was way too perceptive for her own good.

  “It’s better this way,” I said. “I’ve told you before, I don’t like vanilla.”

  “If you ever want to talk about it...”

  The alarms blaring in my mind made me speak more harshly than I intended. “Lily, could you please pay attention?”

  “Um, okay,” she said with the amenability that I found so seductive in her.

  I led her to one of the chairs and, after setting a cushion on the pool deck, helped her kneel on it. “Lily, I need you,” I said, sitting on the chair. “But I know last night was a lot.”

  “Oh.”

  Were my ears playing tricks or did she sound disappointed?

  I undid my pants, released my cock, and held on to it, taking a calming breath. When I was under control, I asked, “Have you ever given head before?”

  There it was, the blush that I adored, better than a polygraph and more accurate than a thermometer when it came to understanding her emotions.

  “Lily?”

  “Well, yeah, I’ve tried before.”

  “On whom?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “But I want to hear you talking about it.” I thumbed her succulent lips. “Martin?”

  She nodded.

  “How did it go?”

  “He told me I wasn’t any good.”

  I had never trusted Martin, but after last night, I questioned all of his opinions. “Did you like having his cock in your mouth?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “It felt strange,” she said. “Are you going to put your cock in my mouth?”

  I almost came on the spot. “Would you like that?”

  “I... I don’t know.”

  “Try it then.”

  I cradled the back of her head and, holding out my cock, led her mouth to my glans. My dick jerked to maximum attention.

  “You can start with a kiss,” I said. “Just kiss it.”

  Her pursed lips landed on me, warm, soft and pliable. She was tentative at first, so I led her up and down my shaft, planting those innocent little kisses until she had the lay of the land. Her warm breath blew over my cock. She drove me insane.

  “Part your lips,” I said, cupping her breast. “Taste as you go.”

  I sat on the chair, my spine as rigid as my cock. I could barely stand her lips, let alone her tongue. The sunlight reflected on the water dripping from her hair, streaming down her shoulders and over her breasts. I kneaded her nipples until she began to utter the seditious little whimpers I craved.

  “Try suckling on it a bit,” I said. “Start with the tip.”

  I tried not to hiss when her lips landed on my head. Her small, tentative licks grew into waves of pleasure as her tongue ran over the raised edges around my helmet. I shuddered when the tip of her tongue tripped over my slit. It explored the sensitive spot with repeated incursions, until a burst of pre-come escaped me, smearing her mouth with a shimmering gloss.

  She didn’t balk. She didn’t startle or retreat. Instead, the tip of her tongue swiped over her lips, collecting my come, savoring it as if I tasted good.

  Jesus Christ.

  I let go of her breast and guided her head, encouraging her to swallow more of me. With every gulp, she did, working those plush lips up and down my cock with increasing confidence. Her mouth widened around my cock, hot, silky and moist. Threading my fingers through her hair, I encouraged her head into a rolling motion, which she immediately added to her fast-growing repertoire.

  Her mouth was as hospitable as her pussy. Her tongue and her palate made for a well-constructed cradle and, when I tilted her head back, I found her throat offered a great addition to her mouth’s architecture. It was pure, delicious torture.

  In her mouth, my cock was but a bundle of overwrought nerves transmitting exclusively sexual signals. I’d been sucked by some extraordinarily skilled women, but none of them could beat Lily, struggling to swallow the whole of me, striving to please me with such earnest dedication.

  How much longer could I last?

  I reached down between her legs and tested her. She was drenched, plump and sweltering. No way could I ignore her needs when she was so thoroughly aroused.

  She gasped when I rubbed her clit’s tight knot.

  “You know what I think?” I teased her slot with my fingers. “I think you like sucking my cock. I think you’re enjoying this.”

  Her mouth curled at the corners. She was indeed enjoying herself. I grew even stiffer in her mouth. I cupped her pubis and caressed her pussy. She whimpered when I inserted my middle finger. She clenched all around me, hot and tight, like a fired rifle’s barrel.

  I withdrew from her mouth. For a moment, my cock and her lips were linked by a silver strand of glimmering saliva.

  I leaned over and kissed her softly. “Did Martin come in your mouth?”

  The blush ignited her face. She nodded shyly.

  “You could’ve lied, you know.”

  “How do you know I’m not lying now?”

  Christ, she was a gift from life. I chuckled, massaging her clit, moving my fingers in and out of her in a controlled motion that had her gasping. She braved the intimate caress, pursing her lovely lips in a quiet “oh.” It was a measure of her courage and her erotic potential that she knelt before me naked, blindfolded and bound, letting me pleasure her in this way.

  “Josh,” she called. “Josh?”

  I liked hearing my name from her lips. “I know, sweet, you need to come, don’t you?”

  “Please?”

  “You were so good last night,” I said. “And today, you’re such a hot little cunt. You please me so good, all of you. Go ahead. You can come, Lily.”

  Still pumping, I kissed her, pushing my tongue into her mouth, appropriating her gasps, holding her as she convulsed in my arms with an orgasm that constricted around my fingers with an astonishing grip.

  Her body shook and her mouth widened, uttering silent pleas into my mouth. The little vein at her right temple popped up as crooked evidence of her body’s intense reaction. Then she collapsed on my lap, trembling with pleasure.

  After a little while, I withdrew, brushing my finger against her lips so she could savor her come’s exquisite flavors.

  “You’re going to drive me insane,” she mumbled.

  I leaned over and kissed her savory lips. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  I undid the bikini’s tangle strings from around her wrists, took her hands and fisted them around my erection. “Now you’re going to finish what you started.”

  “Josh?” she said, holding on to my cock obediently. “Can you please take off the blindfold?”

  “Why?” I said.

  “I want to see you come.”

  It was her passion speaking, her heart, resiliency and courage. Her honesty blew me away. The co
nnection between us tightened like a noose around my neck. Jesus Christ. I was so fucked. A little time with Lily wasn’t going to be nearly enough.

  “The blindfold stays on for now,” I said.

  No way could I let her see the power she had over me.

  I stood up and tilted her chin until I had a clear path to her throat. I plunged my cock between her lips, claiming all the space in her mouth. I held her angled head in place, securing the exquisite route I followed all the way to a mind-blowing release. I poured in her throat like a goddamn fountain. I poured so hard and for so long that I feared I might pass out and she might drown in my come. But she kept at it, milking me with her mouth, cleansing me with her industrious tongue.

  My knees gave out. I plopped down on the chair. I had to wait a few moments before I could speak and even then I was hoarse. Lily waited, slumped between my legs, leaning her head against my thigh, occasionally lapping at my spent cock. When I got my strength back, I picked her up, took off the improvised blindfold and cradled her on my lap.

  “Martin’s a fucking idiot,” I said, wiping a drop of come from the corner of her mouth and kissing her with all I had left.

  Lily laughed, a sound so pure it reminded me of ringing bells. I laughed too, and for the first time in a long time, I found that the elusive sound matched my state of mind exactly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lily

  When I came back from the restroom, Josh was talking on his phone and pacing the veranda, firing instructions at someone, then listening, although not attentively. Shielding the speaker with one hand, he asked. “What took you so long?”

  “I’m not Houdini,” I said. “I had to undo all of those knots you put in the bikini.”

  “Christ, Lily, you should have told me. I could have picked something else for you to wear. Or, better yet, you could’ve stayed naked. Yes, Thomas,” he said into the phone. “I’m listening.” He paused. “The numbers look promising but I want to run some more projections.” Another pause. “I conferenced with them earlier today. I’m working on the letter of intent.”

  He pointed at the coffee table. A glass of white wine stood next to a tray where layers of fruit were organized into a precise, alternating pattern. A block of cheddar had been cut into neat one inch squares.