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I like that about him.
I really do.
He continues with a half-smile, "I don't usually want to claim someone. In the moment, or the scene, maybe, but not asmylover." He doesn't usually want it. So he wants it sometimes. He doesn't expand. He continues, "But I want that, a lot. I want to know I'm the best fuck a woman's had. I want to see the evidence on someone's face. Her ex in shock because he's never heard her come like that. Now that I'm older and more experienced, I know it's ridiculous. I know a woman is going to have the best orgasm on her own. But I still want it sometimes."
"And you want the power over someone," I say. "The status. It's common, you know. We all crave the things we tell ourselves we shouldn't want."
"What should you not want?" he asks.
"Besides you?" I ask.
"Now that we've crossed that bridge." He nods.
I want to give myself to him. I want to fall in love with him and make him fall in love with me. That's the one thing I really, really shouldn't want. "I want to play the game you said. To see who can break first."
"When do you want to start?"
"As soon as we finish here," I say. "And we get somewhere our family can't interrupt."
"I know a place," he says. "A club here. It's not open for a few hours. But we could go there. We could fuck in front of a third person easily."
Fuck. "What time does it open?"
"Eight or nine."
That leaves six or seven hours to think about it. "Until then?"
He doesn't ask if that's a yes or a no. He sees it as amaybe, but how could I ever wait six or seven hours to have my way with you. "I have an idea. If you trust me."
"You know I do."
He nodsperfect. We finish eating, pay, and drive to the Strip, park in a lot, and walk through the labyrinth of indoor then outdoor hallways to find the pool.
A small, rectangular body of water with a dozen people inside and another dozen sitting around it.
It's not crowded the way other pools are. Because it has a cover charge and a strict eighteen or older age policy.
Because it's a top-optional pool.
And half the women are indulging in their right to do away with their bikini top.
A group that can or cannot include me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Daphne
"This is one of mine," I say. "One I didn't tell you." My eyes stay on the people around the pool. A few couples. A pod of single men staring at a topless woman like they can't believe they're seeing breasts. Three European women sunning on lounge chairs without a care in the world.
His eyes stay on me. I don't even have to look at him to tell. I can feel the intensity of his gaze. The heat. The desire he has for me and me alone.
I've never felt like that with someone else, as if I'm the only woman in their universe. No, the only person in their universe.
There are topless women here, but he'd rather look at me.
I swallow hard and continue, "It happens at your house. Your parents' house. I come out in my swimsuit and I strip for you and you take me right there, on one of the lounge chairs. We're alone because everyone else is asleep. I could do that here. Part of it." I can't have my way with him in front of everyone. But I can strip. I can tease him. I can.
"We can do it at my parents' place," he says. "I know their schedules. I know which mornings the house is empty."
