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“Are you we really doing this?” I ask.

“If you want to stop, stop,” he says. He slips out of his shoes and socks.

He undoes the buttons of his shirt. Then it's the belt, the slacks, the boxers.

My rival, naked in the moonlight.

He turns and runs and jumps into the pool. I unzip my dress and I follow him into it.

Fuck, that's cold. But there's something right about being in the space with him.

I swim to the middle.

He meets me there.

“What if he asks me upstairs now?” I ask.

“Do you want to fuck him?” he asks, without a hint of jealousy.

I should make him sweat it, but I don't. I totally fail to hold a poker face.

Matteo chuckles. "Is it really that bad?"

"He's not my type," I insist.

Matteo's eyes go to the party. He watches Yorgos charm a man his age. Notes his dark eyes, strong jaw, tailored suit. "Is it the perfect body or the handsome face you don't like?"

My cheeks flush.

He's obviously attractive physically, and it's obviously something else.

"He's smug. He would be that way in bed too," I say, even though it’s not true. He’s good enough he’s not smug.

Matteo smiles sure, that’s it. He reaches his arms around my hips and pulls me closer.

I wrap my hands around his shoulders and look up at him.

"If you keep this up, I'll fuck you right here," I say.

"No one asked you to stop.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine.

He pulls me into another deep kiss.

This time, his hands go to my ass. His fingers dig into my soft flesh.

I reach down and wrap my hand around him.

He's already hard.

And fuck, that feels good.

I want to have him right here, right now.

I pump him until he groans against my lips.

Footsteps come closer. A man clears his throat.

"I'm afraid I can't let the two of you finish that thought," Yorgos says.