Bent Out of Shape

by Bebe Balocca

  “We’ll get it all straightened out. Mr Paul can be a bit obsessive when it comes to his privacy, but the last thing he needs is a used Honda. He and I parted on very good terms, so when I am able to explain things to him, I’m sure he’ll realise that there was no bad intent and no harm done.” He settled into a lounge chair with a contented sigh.

  “Then why don’t we go talk to the guards now?” Jamie asked. She paced up and down next to the pool, exasperated. “If everything’s cool, then why are we holed up down here?”

  Peter sipped his wine then licked his lips. “Mr Paul is out in the wilderness until tomorrow afternoon. He likes to leave his cell phone behind and stomp about in the woods with nothing but a compass to guide him and his favourite dogs, Zeus and Apollo, to protect him.” He shrugged. “Mr Paul’s out of the picture for now. The way I see it, we can either spend the night in a cell in the guard house or down here in the Sensual Cenote.”

  Jamie snorted wine through her nose. “The Sensual Cenote? Are we in a Lemony Snickett book? And what the hell is a cenote?” She winced and sniffled as she settled in to a chaise next to him.

  He examined his fingernails, but Jamie detected a hint of defensiveness about him. “Well, that’s what Mr Paul calls it, so that’s the name I’m accustomed to using. A cenote is a sinkhole filled with water. Not quite accurate since this is manmade, but it amuses Marcus Paul. Call it what you like, but we’ve got food, beverages and a bathroom. If we can tough it out for another day, Mr Paul will be back and I’m confident that I can smooth things over.”

  “Mm-hm.” Jamie nodded. She watched the waterfall rush over the artfully tumbled rocks into the far end of the pool. “You, the fired employee who forged your ex-boss’ signature and then trespassed on his property, will smooth things over.” She sipped her wine thoughtfully. “Ri-ight.”

  Peter took another deep swallow of his drink and placed the glass next to his chair on a wicker table. He reclined the chair until it was almost flat and lay there, the picture of relaxation. Jamie rolled her eyes. The room was silent except for the constant rush of the waterfall. She wiggled her toes and cleared her throat. Peter raised one eyebrow and smiled faintly, but kept his eyes closed.

  Exasperating lunatic.

  Chapter Four

  Jamie rummaged through the stainless steel cabinets in the kitchen area. She found crackers, paté, fine chocolates and dried figs in one, dishes in another and a stack of fluffy towels in a third.

  “Whatcha looking for?” Peter asked behind her.

  “A swimsuit, if you must know,” Jamie replied irritably. “I thought he might keep a spare down here for visitors.”

  He chuckled. “I told you, this is Mr Paul’s private swimming pool. He comes down here by himself or with intimate friends. He swims in the nude.”

  She braced her hands on her hips and turned to him. “And you know this because…?”

  “I’m his assistant.”

  Jamie shot him a look.

  “Well, I was his assistant. Anyway, you’re not going to find a swimsuit down here, but if you want to search the cupboards, knock yourself out.” Peter shrugged and settled back on the chaise. “If you want to go for a swim, just get naked. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. In fact, my memories of your unclothed body are quite clear.”

  “Aren’t there any books or games or anything?” she asked. “There’s not even a TV or a radio! I’m gonna go crazy just listening to the water crashing down and waiting to get jumped on by guard dogs.”

  “Nope. Mr Paul just likes to come down here by himself to think and swim, or come down here with a friend and…you know. Get sexy in the Sensual Cenote.” He raised up on one elbow and cocked an eyebrow at her. “I can think of a thing or two we could do if you’re getting bored. My vote is that we take a little swim, then polish off this bottle of wine and turn the lights down low…”

  “You are incorrigible!” Jamie told him. “Aren’t you at all worried? I don’t want to get chomped on or interrogated in a little room, thank you very much!”

  “I told you, we’re fine. Mr Paul doesn’t tell any of his employees about this place except for his assistant, and he hasn’t had time to hire a new one yet. Besides, the ceiling lights will flash if somebody opens the hidden door up there behind the mirror—a little security measure that he insisted on.”

  Jamie pressed her palms over her eyes and imagined what was going on aboveground. The guards would surely have figured out by now that she was the intruder in the guest house. They’d call her sister, who was listed as her emergency contact, and Meghan would definitely flip out. And—oh god—what if they got in touch with Joshua Martin? He’d fire a criminal trespasser from the Village Yoga Centre in heartbeat. No car, no job and a criminal record to boot? Lovely. “Oh, I’m so screwed,” she moaned.

  “Relax,” Peter insisted. “You should go for a dip. It’ll help you calm down. Go check out the waterfall over there—you might find a surprise.”

  At least one thing he said made sense. Jamie downed the rest of her wine in four big gulps. Not accustomed to chugging adult beverages, especially at the ripe hour of ten in the morning, she felt the immediate effects of the alcohol on her system. She wasn’t entirely relaxed and worry-free, but the booze helped deaden the sharp worries of incipient homelessness and jail time. She sighed, tugged off her clothes and left them in a pile on one of the vacant chairs.

  The water temperature was perfect—cooler than body temp, but warm enough to keep goosebumps away. She glanced over at Peter, who appeared to be snoozing, and stepped down the stairs to the floor of the pool. Tiny bubbles floated over her skin and popped on the surface. “It’s effervescent?” she asked.

  “Yup.” Peter folded his arms over his stomach and kept his eyes closed. “Naturally carbonated. It’s why Mr Paul insisted on buying this particular piece of land when he built this place—he wanted access to the springs. Paid plenty for it, too.” He shrugged. “Not that Marcus Paul would complain.”

  Jamie sank into the pool and swam to the bottom. Churned by the waterfall, the bubbly water tickled her body with thousands of tiny kisses. She stretched beneath the surface until her lungs begged for air, letting the ticklish sensations wash over her, then popped up, gasping. “It’s wonderful,” she panted as she slicked her hair back from her forehead. “Like swimming in Perrier. If I were Mr Paul, I’d be down here all the time.”

  Peter nodded, still recumbent. “Mm-hm,” he agreed. “Enjoy your swim.”

  She turned and dived back down, kicking until she reached the end of the pool where the waterfall pounded overhead, then stood up beneath the heavy curtain of water. There was a space of about a foot where she could lean against the smooth rocks and let the cascade fall on her back and shoulders. It thumped and massaged her muscles, easing deep soreness she didn’t know she’d had, as the roiling, bubble-saturated ripples played against her lower half. Jamie glanced back at Peter and saw that he was still stretched out on the lounge chair. She let her forehead rest against the rock wall and closed her eyes. This entire day had been pure insanity so far, but this very moment was a sweet little pocket of bliss.

  Spreading her legs in the pool, Jamie let her hand wander down her abdomen and between her legs. Still tender from her lovemaking with Peter, her skin was sensitive to her touch. She found her clit and rubbed tight circles over the tender nub. Biting her lip, she rolled her head to one side and pressed one cheek against the cool wall for support as she rocked her hips and ground against her fingers. An orgasm would be just the thing to take the edge off. The back of the waterfall was a tumble of large rocks—Jamie lifted one foot and braced it on a low stone ledge. The motion opened her thighs and sent the effervescent liquid fizzing into her entrance, tickling her most sensitive spots. She rubbed faster, bucking her hips, and rolled one nipple between her fingers.

  Jamie heard the surge of the falling water and the rush of her heartbeat pounding in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the
heavy drops fall on her neck, and pushed two of her fingers into her pussy. The rock in front of her looked cold and unyielding, but it felt strangely like a lover’s caress on her bare skin.

  Suddenly, hands gripped her waist and something hard nudged her rear. Peter. She groaned when he pressed against her, pinning her to the stones with his warm, bulky body. In the cacophony of the waterfall, she knew that speech was pointless, but he made his intention perfectly clear. His cock was stiff and thick as he slid it between her inner thighs.

  He grabbed her wrists and lifted her hands, then kicked her legs into a wider stance so that she was splayed between the wall and his body. Jamie grinned, excitement coursing inside her like the currents that frothed between her legs. I’m stuck between a rock and a very, very hard place…

  He released her wrists, but she held her hands in place, relishing the contrasting sensations of the cool stones on her front half and the warm body on her back. He dipped his knees and pushed his erection fully between her thighs, rubbing it between the folds of her labia, and took one breast in each hand. Jamie cried out when he latched onto the side of her neck with his mouth, sucking and biting her skin. He twisted her nipples hard, tugging and rolling the stiffened peaks, and pumped his cock faster against her skin.

  Jamie was torn between wanting him to never, ever stop and wanting him to find a condom, damn it, so that he could put that thing where it belonged. She arched her back so that his shaft rubbed against her clit and grabbed his rear, urging him to press harder against her.

  At once, the presence at her back was gone, and he was grabbing her hand, pulling her through the cascade. She pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes, confused, then saw a rough staircase. He lifted her by the waist, placing her at the third step. Eager, aren’t you? Her pulse raced. Me too.

  She climbed up the stairs carefully. Though the surface was grooved for traction, it still seemed a bit treacherous, and falling down limestone steps was the last thing she wanted to do right now. She braced her hands on the treads as she mounted them, then found only empty space to hold on to. Two more steps revealed their destination—an alcove cut into the rock itself. Jamie crawled in with Peter at her heels.

  The cave was dim and damp, illuminated only by the light that filtered through the curtain of water. Peter smiled, looking oddly abashed. Guess he must have taken advantage of this little gem a time or two, Jamie figured, and probably not with his employer’s blessing. He grabbed a blue foam pad, the kind popular for pool lounging, and unrolled it onto a section of the floor which jutted through the waterfall.

  The acoustics of the alcove and the splashing cascade filled her ears completely, but Jamie could read his lips clearly, “You’ll like this.”

  He positioned her on her back on the foam pad with her toes pointing outward, then urged her to scoot down towards the edge. Her adrenalin surged, but Jamie knew that the massive outcropping wasn’t going to crumble beneath her weight. She moved farther, farther, until the spray from above fell on her pelvis. He nodded, eyes glittering, and spread her knees apart. Jamie cried out when the water pounded against her splayed cunt. She instinctively yanked her legs back together, but he forced them apart once more and wedged something cushiony beneath her rear, tilting her hips upward. The pressure from the falling water was intense, but not painfully so—like a deep tissue massage. Nice.

  Jamie looked up and saw him rummaging in a cabinet. Lit from within—the light activated by the door opening, she assumed—it was about the size of an oven. Rolled towels, a couple of bottles, a box or two… A man cave like none I’ve ever seen. Too bad this is the one and only time I can visit it. Even if Mr Paul refrains from pressing charges, I doubt he’ll invite us back down here ever again.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the spray buffet her skin. All the more reason to enjoy it now. It pounded on her clit, knocking against the tingling flesh.

  He reclined at her side, propped on one elbow. He smiled at her, looking every bit the cute athletic dreamboat she’d always wanted to meet in school, and lowered his face to hers for a kiss. His lips were soft and tender—the exact opposite of the thumping pressure she felt in her pussy—and he flicked his tongue just inside her mouth. Jamie combed her fingers through his wet hair and relaxed into the kiss, just as she felt him work his hand between her legs.

  Her eyes flew open. His fingers were coated with something slippery and tingling—one of those fancy lubes they sold online, probably. He wedged two thick fingers inside her and heat bloomed from his touch. Jamie gasped, trying to pull away and catch her breath, but he plunged his tongue between her lips as he shoved his fingers inside. She shouted into his mouth, lost to the tight, tingling stretch in her cunt, the throbbing pressure on her clit and thighs and his warm, hungry tongue in her mouth.

  He fucked her faster, pistoning his hand, and she bucked her hips to feel more of the relentless pressure on her sensitive skin. He drew her lower lip between his teeth and bit hard, then lowered his face to her breast. She cried out, her voice muffled by the noise of the falling water, when his warm mouth latched on to her nipple, swirling and sucking. Then her orgasm splashed over her like a bucket full of steamy bubbles. Madame Callais had one thing right—this was pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.

  She thrust her hips up to his hand and her legs trembled beneath the stinging spray. Woozy and reeling from her climax, she hardly understood what was happening when he whipped her onto her hands and knees and pushed her down to her elbows. Jamie glanced back just as he finished unrolling a condom onto his shaft. Oh, yes. She pressed her face into the springy foam pad and groaned when he found her opening with the tip of his cock.

  He slid in smoothly, pulsing with need, and sheathed himself between her legs. He was thick, stiff and—oh, god—he moved as if nothing short of a meteor falling on the roof would stop him. Jamie spread her thighs and arched her back. He pumped into her, his thighs taut as they slapped against her behind. Her face burnt and the world shrank to a dim cavern, a wall of moving water and the impossibly sweet tightness in her pussy.

  He squeezed her waist, pulling her to him with each thrust, and his cock seemed to thicken even more. The room grew black before brightening once more—Am I fainting? she wondered—then he climaxed with a bellow she heard even over the pounding waterfall. Jamie waited as his shudders subsided. He withdrew, breathing hard, and flopped to the stone floor beside her, his eyes half-closed in languid satisfaction. His mouth moved, but Jamie couldn’t hear him over the noise. She shook his shoulder slightly and asked him to repeat what he’d said.

  Although she still couldn’t hear him, what she read on his lips sent shivers up her neck. “They’re coming. They found us.”

  Chapter Five

  Jamie couldn’t see anything through the wall of moving water, but she looked at the room through her mind’s eye. Her clothes in a rumpled pile on one of the lounge chairs and Peter’s wherever he’d decided to put them, their used wine glasses on the tables and the chilled bottle of pinot grigio… It would be clear to anyone that somebody had been in the room recently, and there were only so many places that somebody might hide.

  Peter handed her a towel from the cabinet and she wrapped it around her torso. He squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, enunciating clearly but still barely audible. “Even if they take us off for questioning, they won’t really hurt us, and I don’t think the dobies can swim.”

  Jamie wanted to throw up. As if on cue, she heard the barking of dogs echo off the walls of the chamber. She imagined the guards conducting a quick search of the bathroom and the cabinets next to the kitchen. How long could she and Peter stay secreted away in this hidden alcove? She scooted back to the far end of the chamber and hugged her knees.

  Jamie swallowed and attempted to focus on her breathing, vinyasa flow style. Smooth, powerful and panic-free. She tried to recall the practice of pratyahara. She’d love to retreat from the tumultuous external environment to a
purely mental, calm experience, yet that blissful peace eluded her. If only her body would cooperate, but her body knew good and well that something horrible was about to happen and there was no way it would let her forget it. The fight-or-flight impulse coursing through her had her wanting to leap out into the pool and put up her dukes or try to squirm her way up through the flowing water and escape. Neither strategy would pan out well, she guessed.

  Peter stroked the side of her face and kissed her lips. Even with panic welling in her chest, she felt a reassuring warmth from his presence. He may be a crazy trespasser who’s gotten me into one hell of a hot mess, but he’s an undeniable pro at making me feel good.

  She leaned into his body, gaining strength from him. Maybe the guards will figure that we left and go search somewhere else… Maybe we can stay down here for another day or two after all… Peter deepened the kiss and a flutter of excitement ran from her mouth down to her belly. The world shrank to an even smaller sphere—it only held their bodies, and everything else ceased to matter. Even the crashing noise of the waterfall diminished until all she could hear were their mingled heartbeats.

  Jamie opened her eyes to find him smiling at her.

  And the waterfall nowhere in sight.

  She brought her hand to her mouth and gasped. “They turned off the diverter!” she squeaked.

  “We know you’re up there,” a man shouted. “You may as well come down and give yourself up. The guards are armed and will brook no resistance from intruders. Is the yoga teacher with you as well?”

  “Oh my god.” Jamie covered her face with her hands. She felt worse than the last time she’d splurged on a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings then taught an ashtanga class. That hadn’t panned out terribly well either.

  “All right, all right, you found me!” Peter yelled from the chamber. “No need to get the lady all riled up.”

  He gave her a last kiss before pulling away with a sad expression.