“I’m exhausted,” she mutters. “But I don’t need sleep. I’m just…mentally exhausted.”
“Come on, let’s go sit in some warm bubbly water…” I tell her when I go over and ease her out of her seat by her elbow.
“You’ve got bubbly?” she asks.
“Bubbly water.”
When I guide her out of the sliding glass door to the wooden deck, she sees the hot tub and says, “I didn’t bring a bathing suit because it’s April. Who wears a bathing suit in April?”
“There’s no one around to see us, so I think we’re safe to go in wearing just our underwear.”
“If you say so,” Charlotte agrees quicker than I expected. A second later, she’s pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it across the deck and then shoving her jeans down her legs.
“Oh, this feels so good,” she says as she sinks down into the water. “Just what I needed.”
“Good. I thought so. It helps you wind down after a stressful day,” I tell her as I remove my cut and hang it over one of the patio chairs. Reaching behind my back, I pull my tee up and off, then start to work on undoing my jeans. When they and my shoes are gone, I look up and find Charlotte is staring at me with her lips parted, her cheeks red from the warm water and probably all the wine she drank.
“You feeling okay?” I ask her.
“Sure,” she replies, barely blinking. When I start to climb over into the tub, she asks, “Why don’t you take your boxer briefs off too?”
“I should probably keep them on,” I reply. “You want to take things slow, remember? And if I’m naked and you’re sitting there looking like that, I’m not sure I can keep my hands off of you.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to keep your hands off of me.”
I sink down into the bubbles, taking a seat. “That’s drunk Charlotte talking,” I point out. “Tomorrow, you would hate me for pushing you, and I would hate myself for taking advantage. So, I’m going to sit over here, and you’re going to sit over there.”
She pokes her bottom lip out in a very un-Charlotte move. “You’re exhausting.”
“I’m exhausting?” I repeat with a grin because she’s drunk and cute.
“Do you want me or not?”
“Of course I want you. I thought I had made that very clear.”
“Good,” she says before she swims over and then straddles my lap, angling her pussy right above my cock that is really loving the way she feels. Her lips brush mine and she whispers, “Fuck me.”
“Not tonight,” I say when I lift her up and sit her in the seat next to me.
“Please?” she asks, climbing right back on top of me before I even return to my own seat.
“Charlotte,” I groan, and thankfully she takes the hint, standing up. But she doesn’t back away. Instead, her hands disappear under the water; and when they reappear, they’re holding her dripping panties.
“Baby, put those back on,” I plead. She’s not making this easy on me. Instead of doing as I asked, she tosses them onto the deck and then takes her bra off and sends it flying, leaving her standing before me in waist deep water topless. “You’re killing me,” I tell her. And when she climbs right back up on my lap, her heavy tits are right in front of my face, nipples hard and begging for my mouth or hands to do bad things to them. My cock is now so hard that it’s about to escape the dick hole in my boxer briefs. And fuck, do I want it to escape and find its way inside of this sexy woman, but I can’t. Not tonight. I know Charlotte better than drunk Charlotte knows herself. And so, when her mouth crashes down on mine, her tongue giving me a dirty kiss full of promise, I keep my hands locked on her hips to try and keep them still and to keep me from touching her everywhere else.
“Roman?” Charlotte asks against my lips.
“Yeah?”
“I want you inside of me. I want you to make me feel good even though I shouldn’t.”
“I can’t tonight,” I tell her, and her bottom lip comes poking out again.
“Please? I’m hurting.”
Great. How am I supposed to tell her no when she says she’s aching for me? I know the sensation so well that I can even ignore my blue balls most of the time.
“Roman?” Charlotte grabs my right wrist that’s holding her hip and urges it lower. And I’m so weak for this woman I let her guide my hand between her legs. “Oh god, yes, right there!”
Hearing her moans makes me snap. I keep the hand between her legs, working her over while my other grabs the side of her face to bring her mouth down to mine. I know she’s drunk and will probably hate herself for throwing herself at me tonight, or maybe not remember it at all, but I know I will. I’ll give her the orgasm she needs, but that’s where I draw the line. I may hurt for weeks after not getting any relief of my own, but it will be worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
Charlotte
The next morning, I wake up to the room spinning. It takes a few minutes for me to get my eyes to stay open long enough to figure out what room I’m even in.
“Morning, sunshine!” Roman says, or more like yells the greeting, making my head throb and reminding me I’m at his house and in his bedroom. “How did you sleep?”
I blink my eyes open to find him standing at the foot of his bed, fully dressed in jeans and his leather cut, curly hair still damp from a shower, looking too good to be real.
“Like…like a dead woman,” I answer despite cotton mouth making it more difficult than usual.
“Not surprised. You snored.”
“Snored?” I repeat in disbelief.
“Yep. Loudly. Kept waking me up.”
Oh great. How humiliating that I’m not only a guest of
