A chill spreads through my body as the water envelops me, but it quickly passes. I float in the four-foot pool and wonder why I hadn’t gotten one of these sooner. Sure, this is just one of those cheap ones you can buy from a big box store, but I can definitely see myself getting a bigger, nicer one in the future. Of course, I’ll have to build a deck with a latch to keep little legs from climbing up and falling in, but that’s not necessary this summer.
A noise catches my attention, but it’s not coming from the baby monitor. I look toward the house to find Lena standing back, watching me. “Hey,” she says softly, taking a few tentative steps in my direction.
“Hey.”
She steps up to the pool and slips her hand in, moving it from side to side in the water. “The water feels nice.”
I can see the glisten of sweat on her forehead from her walk, and even though I’m not sure having her in the pool with me is a good idea right now—mostly because I might not be able to stop myself from touching her—I find myself still offering. “It feels pretty good. You should come in.” I hope my words come out as casual as I intend.
She smiles. “I don’t have my suit out here.”
I shrug, treading water as I move toward her. “Neither do I.”
Her eyes widen as she looks down. I’m sure she can see my red boxer briefs through the clear water, so at least she knows I’m not naked. “Ummm,” she starts, glancing down at her tank top and shorts.
“You wearing a bra and panties under that?” I ask, unable to hide my smirk.
She meets my eyes and says, “Of course I am. Have you ever tried power walking without them?”
I chuckle. “Can’t say I’ve ever walked—power or otherwise—in a bra and panties, Lean.” I offer her a shrug and start to move back to the opposite side of the small pool. “I’ve seen it all before and it covers as much as that bikini you call a bathing suit.” Images of her in that pink and black bikini kept me company in practically every shower I’ve taken since she wore it earlier in the week.
Green eyes just stare at me as she decides what she’s going to do. Sure, she can run inside, slip on her suit, and be back here in a matter of minutes. Or she can strip off that top and shorts and join me now. The choice is hers.
It only takes a few long seconds before she reaches down and grabs the hem of her tank top. My breath hitches as she pulls it up and over her head, tossing it onto the ground at her feet. She toes off her shoes and removes her ankle socks before slipping her shorts down her long, toned legs. My cock is already hard, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Lena still hasn’t met my eyes as she climbs the plastic ladder and steps over the side of the pool. The view of her in a sports bra and cotton underwear is just as hard-on inducing as that tiny bra and panty set from the night of the gala. She looks incredible in anything she wears, and this is no exception.
She drops beneath the water up to her shoulders. “Wow, it’s a little chilly.”
“It passes quickly,” I tell her, leaning back and floating with my arms out.
After another few minutes of silence, she finally says, “Beautiful night.”
I cut her a look. She’s floating on her back as well, our fingertips dangerously close. “Beautiful,” I find myself saying, but not about the night. About her.
Lena feels my eyes on her and turns. There’s an electricity that passes through the water, zapping my limbs and my groin. The air turns heavy and weighs down my chest. Our fingers touch in the water, and that’s all it takes. I’m not sure who moves first, her or me, but she’s in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist in no time. My lips crashing into hers, a frenzy of lust bolting through me as I move us to the side of the pool.
With her pressed into the plastic, I devour her sweet mouth with my own. Our tongues slide against each other’s, our lips nipping and sucking. My hands hold her ass, my cock so fucking hard and ready between us. Lena grinds her hips, seeking out any sliver of friction she can find, and my dick is all too eager to provide it.
“Fuck,” I groan as she gyrates against me. She keeps doing that and I’m liable to explode much sooner than preferred.
“Yes. That. Let’s do that,” she pants, grazing her teeth over my Adam’s apple.
By some miracle force, I pull back and meet her gaze. Her eyes are dilated and heavily lidded, a look of pure desire on her gorgeous face. But before I do anything, I have to know this is what she wants. As much as I’d hate to do this—with her, nonetheless—if she’s looking to compartmentalize this, to fuck, I can do that. Let the record show, I don’t want to. I’d always rather make love to her, but if this is what she needs, I’m her man. I can provide a service, a relief, without the strings and entanglements.
No one knows how to categorize a lay like I do.
I’ve done it for three years.
But even I know that’s not what this is.
Not really.
She’ll always be so much more than a quick fuck.
She’ll always be the love of my life.
The one who got away.
“You sure?” I ask, panting.
“Definitely,” she whispers, leaning forward and kissing my chin. “Fuck me, Mack.”
That’s all it takes. I’m pushing my wet underwear down with one hand and trying to move hers aside with my other. There’s a slickness to her pussy, and I’m not talking about the water.
