by Crowe, Liz
The doors opened onto the top floor, revealing a glass canopy over a large blue pool. The entire place sparkled with candles. She gasped, and glared at Craig. “You were gonna do this, anyway? And still made me say it?” The twinkle in his eye made her gulp.
God, he was cute.
“What do we do when anyone else wants to swim?”
“I’ve lived here for nearly two years and have never once encountered another soul in this pool, so I’m locking the door behind us.” He showed her the changing room, and she put on her bikini, amused at his modesty. He stared at her as she entered the pool area again, dragging his eyes from her toes to the top of her head, then looked straight into her eyes.
“Wow,” he said, softly.
She was just what he had been imagining for weeks—firm, fit, not too thin, her breasts a perfect match for her body type, her nipples rock hard under the material of her suit, her skin glowing in the soft candlelight. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of her. He smiled, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep his desire in check—for now.
She ran her fingers over his shoulders, as if measuring him for a suit, lightly touched the skin of his biceps, forearms, wrists, and hands. He remained still for her, not moving or touching her, as her fingers lingered on his chest down to his abs.
She stepped back then, seeming to wait for him to make the first move. Something inside him snapped. He scooped her into his arms and kissed her like he’d wanted to do for months, since the first time he’d seen her in that sales meeting. The soft noises she made nearly drove him insane, but he broke away, reminding himself to go slow.
Stepping back, he took her hand and led her to the edge of the pool. Then, without another word, he turned and plunged in the deep end, rising to the surface to break through for breath, trying like hell to bury the lust and the “something else” burning a hole in his gut.
Sure, okay, he could be friends with bennies, fuck buddies, whatever. But he knew he would always want more—a lot more. Going down this particular road probably wouldn’t be good for him in the long run. But tonight, he had no intention of holding back.
Sara watched, mesmerized by his lithe body as it cut through the water. When he resurfaced, having completed a back and forth lap in no time, he grabbed her feet and forced her to the edge.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s see how in shape you really are.”
She squealed, embarrassed. Swimming had never been one of her favorite forms of exercise. Something in her wouldn’t relax enough to feel comfortable with the water up her nose, pulling at her limbs, forcing her down while she struggled to remain afloat.
She jumped in and hung on to the side.
“You go ahead,” she told him motioning for him to swim away. “I’m a terrible swimmer.”
“I’ll teach you,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
She tensed up, almost told him this wasn’t exactly the sort of exercise she had in mind, but decided to humor him. He pried her fingers off the edge. “C’mon, I won’t let you drown, jeez.” When they got to a shallower spot, he took her wrists, formed her hands into cups. “Like this. Push the water away from you with your hands.” She shuddered when he pressed a kiss into each of her palms.
“Kicking keeps you buoyant. Your hands and arms move you forward. Now show me.” He pulled himself up with those amazing arms and sat on the side of the pool.
“Okay, fine.” She pushed off from the side, concentrating on propelling herself forward with her lower body, forcing her arms to move independently and to turn her head to the side at every other stroke to catch oxygen just as he’d taught her.
Her brain went immediately into what she recognized as her zone, that place she retreated to after five miles of running or the first hour of hot yoga. She continued to stroke, kicking, breathing comfortably and not panicking as she had when she tried to swim laps before. She reached the side at Craig’s feet and stopped.
“How’s that, coach?” she asked, smiling and batting her eyelashes.
Without a word, he walked around to the deep end again, motioning for her to follow him. She climbed out, feeling strong, relaxed, and, dare she think it, happy.
He showed her how to dive in, bending down deeply first, and then holding her hips up, in preparation for the exertion.
“Okay, but I know you’re using this as an excuse to touch my ass.” She smiled then gasped as he yanked her back up and slanted his lips over hers. He broke the kiss, keeping his arms around her waist. Her head buzzed and her core resumed its slow meltdown.
“I don’t need an excuse.” He released her and smacked her ass so hard she yelped as he dove in. Her inner competitor reared up, and she followed him, hands and head first. She caught up with him, then turned around and swam back. She kept up for nearly six laps, then slowed, her heart pounding and her breath coming in gasps. Finally, she stopped, clinging onto the side, watching as he slid back up to her. He smiled, placed his hands on either side of her arms, staying afloat by kicking his feet.
His face was near, his lips hovered over hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. She sighed as he pressed her against the edge, the hard, lean planes of his bare body sliding against hers.
“Look up, Sara,” he whispered, sending shivers through her whole body.
Craig couldn’t remember a time when he felt so alive. The steam from the pool, the familiar chlorine smells enveloped him as he moved closer to her. His pulse raced but he kept his movements slow, relaxed, determined, and ready to fulfill whatever she needed from him. He was winning this one, he knew. Jack Gordon would be a distant memory once he was through with her. Maybe not tonight, but very soon.
No, she said it herself. Friends. With lovely benefits.
He grinned, and yanked a mental pillow over the voice reminding him he was already likely halfway in love with the woman.
She tilted her head back, then gasped as he put his lips on her collarbones, moved up her neck, and took her earlobe between his teeth. Her body arched into his.
“Is this a good idea?” she asked, her voice breathy in his ear.
He bent his head down to her bikini top, pulled it aside easily with his teeth. His entire body responded at her soft moan.
“Craig.” Her hands were in his hair, threaded through the wet strands. “Are you sure? I mean, we don’t want to… oh—” He pressed against her, cutting off her protest with his lips and tongue. Her arms shook as they wrapped around his neck but she broke their kiss. He stared at her. “I know you’re right, what you said. I owe it to you to get him out of my system,” she began as he pulled back and watched her brush the tears away.
“No,” he said firmly. “You owe it to yourself to get him out of your system, and I’ve decided to dedicate every waking hour to helping you do just that.”
Sara’s brain slowly closed down as she gave into the burning need for something, anything, denying to herself that she could be using the incredible man in front of her to get over one who wasn’t worth carrying his guitar case. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on. He reached down to release one leg, and placed his entire hand against her sex, rubbing through her bikini bottoms exerting just enough pressure with the heel of his hand.
“You game for that plan, Thornton?” he whispered, using his teeth to graze her skin along her jaw. “I mean, if you wanna think you’re deflowering me you can, but you’ll find me fairly advanced for a beginner.”
His incredibly fit swimmer’s physique held them up as he plunged his tongue between her lips again. Her body arched, and she pressed herself into his hand, willing him to reach inside, to fill her aching emptiness.
“Oh… Craig, Jesus.” Her body started its slow, familiar dance toward release. The release she’d only recently discovered with Jack.
She froze at the thought, already concocting excuses for stopping, leaving, getting the hell out of this before she made it a hundred times worse for everyone. But Craig’s lips remained on hers,
not breaking contact as his lower body moved against her, seeking contact.
She gave up, and buried her hands in his wet hair, pulling him closer, feeling his fingers graze her, then tease, lightly as if daring her to respond. The orgasm surprised her with its intensity. Her whole body pulsed, shivered, and tension she’d held for weeks released in a rush of lusty adrenaline.
He removed his lips from her neck, his eyes half closed, his nostrils flaring as he brought his fingers up to his lips to taste her. Then, without warning, he reached down to her waist and placed her up on the side of the pool.
He yanked her bikini bottoms down, tossed them aside, never taking his eyes from her body, then reached around her ass with both hands and pulled her to his mouth, flicking her sensitized clit with his tongue.
“Oh dear Jesus.” Sara twined her fingers in his hair as she bent one leg, allowing him more access, willing him to take more of her.
The room kept spinning and she couldn’t stop coming. It amazed her, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. Finally, he eased his fingers out, pulled himself up out of the pool and stood over her. She eased back away from the edge of the pool, willing him to put his incredible body between her legs. He continued to gaze at her. Suddenly, he knelt down.
“I told myself I would wait for you, as long as it took,” Craig lowered his head briefly then looked straight into her eyes, boring into her soul. “I’ve never been so close to murder with my bare hands as I was the day of that damn picnic. It’s probably not fair for me to say I’ll just be your friend.”
He trailed his fingers down her throat, to her breasts, cupped one gently, and traced a line down to her navel, as if pondering her flesh, how it could possibly be here, in front of him, his for the taking. Then, wordlessly, he stood and walked over to a small table that held a bottle of wine, two glasses and a single condom.
He opened the square package, pulled off his trunks as he faced her as he drew the sheath down its length.
“That for me?” She licked her lips and smiled when he actually blushed.
He slid back into the pool, and pulled her toward him again, easing her down into the water with him. “Yes. It is. You sure you want it?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, nibbling, licking, tasting water and sweat, the very essence of Craig. He pushed her against the side of the pool with his body, and she reached down to stroke him. He groaned and leaned into her pressure. “It might come with strings attached. No promises. So tell me, Sara. Are you sure this is what you want?” He tilted her face to his and covered her mouth, plundering her with his tongue. She broke away, wrapping both legs around his waist.
“Pretty damn sure, yeah.” Her voice was hoarse. She couldn’t wait another minute. Dear God but she was craven. And she had Jack to thank for that. But this time, the thought of him didn’t make her do anything but hold Craig tighter.
The water made her more buoyant, and she lowered herself down his length, gasping as she felt it go deep. The sensation of his strong arms holding her up as he pressed in further brought stars to the edge of her vision. She moaned as he took her hips and eased her back up, then back down, slowly, steadily.
He grasped her around the waist and turned them around so that he was leaning against the wall, and she had her hands on the side of the pool, on either side of his shoulders. He took her face in his hands.
“Look at me, please.”
She opened her eyes, drank in his gaze, as his hips began to move against her, his lips found hers, their bodies wrapped together, no inch of skin going untouched as his hands moved from her back, to her waist, to her ass, to her thighs.
He moaned, his lips still on hers, as she sensed his thrusting increase in speed and intensity. She gripped his shoulders and rode him, letting the orgasm roll over her like a soft wave, her whole body pulsing and throbbing with pleasure, her lips forming words she couldn’t hear.
She leaned her head back, felt her hair hang in the water, and let the climax take her. He moaned, low and loud at the sensation. “Oh God. Sara.” He whispered as he came, pulling her close, and held her body tight to his, his lips against her throat. “Holy shit, woman, that was…” He sighed and leaned his head back.
“I know. I’m amazing. But you’re pretty good yourself.” She bit his nipple, making him jerk and protest. “But is this gonna be weird now? I mean, I’m not ready for, um…” Her face flushed with heat at the look in his soft brown eyes.
Craig worked hard to catch his breath. The monster orgasm had caught him by surprise. Sara had been worth the self-imposed wait, but he was alarmed at how his head pounded, how much he ached to have her back, close to him again. He smiled to himself, the natural competitor in him wishing he could send a mental picture to Mr. Gordon right now. He kissed the tip of her nose.
“No. Not weird, at least not to me.” He released her and she swam away. He enjoyed the view of her naked body moving through the water. He climbed out, suddenly unsure what to do next.
He wanted her. All of her. But she’d said she wasn’t ready for much beyond… what? The occasional fuck?
He sighed, mentally smacking himself upside the head for letting her get to him, then reached down to ease her up out of the water, wrapping her in a huge towel and resisting the urgent need to kiss her again.
Guiding her over to the cushioned lounge chairs on either side of the table where the wine bottle waited, he kept up his mantra: Just friends. Just friends. Just friends. But he couldn’t resist taking a deep breath of her, his nose buried in her hair as they sat together and sipped the wine.
“Are you going to drive me home or are we camping out poolside tonight?” she asked.
“Why not stay, or do you have early appointments tomorrow?” he asked, surprising himself. He hadn’t really planned it that way. Figured he’d take her home after his carefully choreographed pool seduction. But the urge to wake up with her in his arms was overwhelming to the point of breathtaking.
“Why, do you cook breakfast?” She ran her free hand down his torso, making his skin pebble.
“For your information, I am the best blueberry pancake maker on the planet. It’s a known fact.” He shifted in his seat as her hand traced a path toward his towel already stirring in anticipation.
She took another sip of wine.
“You know, I love blueberry pancakes, so if that’s part of the deal, I think I’ll stay over. But, you’ll have to get me home by eight tomorrow,” she said softly as she leaned over to kiss the skin of his chest, and nose her way over to his nipple, which hardened appreciably.
Contentment slipped over her like the soft towel he wrapped her in, as she snuggled in deeper. When tears sprung up, she cursed herself and sat forward.
“Hey, hey, none of that.” He swung his legs down to the floor and gripped her shoulders. “I do not make women cry. I won’t allow it. Seriously. Cut it out.”
She leaned into his arm. Draping a hand over his muscular thigh, she took a deep breath. “Craig.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him.
“No.”
“What? You don’t even know what I’m about to ask.”
“Whatever it is the answer is no.”
“Huh. Well, I guess I can’t suck your cock, then. Oh well, your loss.” She stood and stretched, yelping when he tugged her back to his lap and covered her lips with his. The kiss left her completely breathless in more ways than one. “So now that we have that covered…” She touched her forehead to his. “This is fun. I’m glad we did it. But you have to know. I’m not…I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing right now. You’re at risk of being a serious rebound. Which isn’t fair to you.”
“I know. It’s okay. I don’t mind being a fuck buddy, Sara. Honestly, I’ve always had a blast with you anyway. This just adds a lovely new element to our friendship, don’t you think?”
She smiled and kissed him once more then stood up to reposition herself across his lap, the press of his
resurgent erection warm against her body. “A lovely element indeed. You got any more of those up here?” She nodded toward the wad of paper towel where he’d placed his used condom.
“Paper towels? Sure, for you, anything.” He picked her up, locking onto her lips with his, and carried her toward the elevator.
“Smart ass,” she insisted but held on for dear life, suddenly wanting nothing more than the calm, handsome, charming man holding her in his arms. He set her down and pressed her against the wall of the elevator, his hand reaching under the towel to caress her. “Maybe. But in the meantime, let’s fuck again, eh, buddy?”
“Promises, promises,” she sighed as he fulfilled it, once in the elevator and once more on the bed before they fell into an exhausted, sweaty, contented sleep.
Chapter Eight
Sara glanced at the text. For a split second, she thought it was Jack but she smiled when she realized who it actually was.
Hey yourself, she sent back. Thanks for Friday night btw. I can’t remember if I said that.
Yeah, you did. About a hundred times already. What about Saturday morning? I don’t get thanked for that?
Her face flushed at the memory. I should get the thanks for that.
Oh, yeah. Thanks.
About an hour went by while she sorted through paperwork for a few closings. His next message tested her resolve to go home by herself tonight. She needed to be alone. To process what was happening to her.
Jack had managed to make himself scarce, which was as annoying as his near-constant presence. Her psyche still smarted from the last whirlwind of emotion that swirled around her relationship with her ex-fiancé, but Craig was certainly helping. She berated, then reminded, herself that they had completely honest conversations about where she was in her head with regard to their relationship.
Craig claimed to understand, wanted to give her space and time to get over Jack, but was unable to resist her, according to him. That did a girl’s ego good for certain.
