“Still warming up.”
“That’s fine. Hmmm…what do I want to know…what do I want—” I pause and then smirk. “The one guy you were with, did he ever get the job done, or have you only climaxed with yourself?”
“How is that not X-rated?”
“X-rated would be, do you prefer a man to come on your tits, on your arse, or in your mouth when he’s jacking off? Feel free to answer that question as an alternative.”
She grumbles and then swims toward the bank. “He never got the job done; I’ve been the only one to do it.”
“Jesus,” I whisper.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a huge fucking deal,” I say. “I mean…Jesus, look at you, Renley. You’re fucking sexy. Stunning. A goddamn dream and that man couldn’t make you come? He should be sent to jail immediately. The only reason he couldn’t make you come was because he was too hyperfixated on giving himself pleasure and that’s not how it works. It’s a partnership.” I drag my hand over my face. “So you don’t really know what a real sexual experience is like.”
“I’ve given myself orgasms.”
“It’s different when it’s with someone else,” I say, swimming closer to her. “There’s tension, there’s anticipation, there’s the unknown of what that person might do next to please you. Sure, I can get myself off too, and trust me, I have since I’ve been here, but it’s not the same as when I had you pinned against that wall, my hand up your shirt. That moment, even though cut short, has lived with me since, because there was so much more feeling to it. Playing with myself in the shower will never replicate that.”
She rubs her lips together, looking unsure…but with bright pink cheeks.
“It’s fine,” she finally says. “I’ll have my moment.”
Yeah, and I wish it was with me. I’d show her what it means to be with a real man. I’d take my time, slowly working my mouth over every surface of her body. I’d tease, I’d torture, I’d edge. I’d bring her to the point where she’s just about to fall over, only to repeat the process over again. I’d make her feel out of her goddamn mind, so enthralled, so in need of climaxing that when she finally does, it’s an out-of-body experience that takes her minutes to climb down from.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
My eyes fall to hers. “How much I wish I could help you with that moment.”
“That’s not veryfriend-like.”
“Oh, I tend to think it’s veryfriend-like. Always here to lend a hand, or finger…or three.”
“You’re such a horny ass.”
“That’s my nickname back home.”
She chuckles and then gets out of the water. My eyes immediately fall to the way her bottoms are showing off just a touch more of her bum. How the curve of her hips tests the elasticity of her suit. How her?—
“You’re staring again.”
“Correct,” I say with a nod. Can’t deny it. My eyes are on her and her alone.
“At least you’re honest.” Then she nods toward herself. “Come out of the water and join me.”
“Are we going to swing together?” I ask as I hop out of the water and watch as her eyes become transfixed on my chest…then my stomach…then my bulge, which I know is on full display. I’ve seen myself wet in this swimming costume before. There’s nowhere to hide. What you see is what you get, and she’s seeing a whole fucking lot. Just to be playful, I say, “You’re staring.”
Her eyes snap away. “You’re just…” She clears her throat. “That’s a very small bathing suit.”
“Yeah, I could say the same about yours.” I move in right behind her, my chest to her back, grabbing the rope with her. I whisper, “Are we swinging together?”
She looks over her shoulder and asks, “Truth or dare?”
Not going to answer the question, okay. “Dare,” I say.
“I dare you to belly flop into the pond.”
I wince because…damn it.
