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I shift enough to undo the other tie, and I drop the bikini top on the floor.
It's not a big deal. I'm topless at a topless pool. It's all legal and appropriate and totally inappropriate and hot as fuck.
No. It is a big deal. I'm following an illicit desire. I'm sharing it with Jackson. I'm letting him help me.
This isn't what I meant bylet's practice this whole marriage thing, but it's an exercise in trust and vulnerability all the same.
Fuck. Listen to me.An exercise in trust and vulnerability. My friend Beth was right when she saidI can't study sex this way. Have you listened to researchers and therapists? They can take the hottest thing in the world and make it sound clinical.
I'm not here as a researcher.
I'm not experimenting for the sake of science.
Only to feed my own curiosity. Only to stoke the flames of my desire.
I close my eyes and let my body sink into Jackson's. He pulls me a little closer.
My back melts into his chest. All my bare skin against his. Our bodies pressed together for anyone to see. For everyone to see.
My eyes blink open.
My gaze moves around the space. People are looking our way, but they aren't watching the way they would in a sex club, with wide-eyed wonder.
They steal glances the way people do at ordinary pools and beaches. Ones where breast coverings are mandatory.
My gaze settles on the women in the pool. The couple. They surface for air and dive right back into each other, kissing and touching like no one is watching, or maybe like everyone is watching.
Somehow, both things are true. Everyone is stealing glances, and no one is staring.
If they can do it…
I wrap my fingers around Jackson's wrist and bring his hand to my chest.
His lips find my neck. He kisses me softly as he cups my breasts. One hand. Then the other.
He draws a line of kisses down my neck, then he looks around the space, checking for attention.
There's more now. Those guys in the corner are no longer hiding their interest. They're watching with wide eyes and whispers. But the guy checking tickets by the gate doesn't seem to care about our public display.
That's what it is.
A display.
Like I'm his toy. Or maybe like he's mine. I'm not sure anymore. And I don't want to think about it anymore. I want to dive in and enjoy.
I turn my neck enough to kiss him. My lips find his lips. My tongue dances with his. And all the while, he draws perfect circles around my nipples.
He teases me for ages. Forever. Until I'm too tired to kiss anymore, and I collapse in his arms, and he brings his lips to my neck, and he teases me again and again.
By the time I sit up, I'm wound so tight, I'm sure I'm going to burst. To come from the next gust of air. That's all the friction I need.
I want to take him here. And now. Or drag him to a hotel room. But I don't. I practice my patience. I play his game.
I stand up, shoot him a daring smile, and I dive into the pool.
He watches me swim for a minute, then he dives in with me, and we follow the footsteps of the other couple. We swim and kiss and touch until we're too tired to swim anymore. Untilmy entire body is humming with a horrible, beautiful mix of pleasure and need and anticipation.
I want to feel this forever. And I need to come immediately.
