Catch My Breath

by Wendy L. Wilson

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I exit the shower house and open the door to a small supply closet, located to the left of the entrance door. Evan had mentioned to place excess parts and supplies here in case something would go haywire, although these fans look as though they were on their last leg.

  Hurrying back inside, I get busy on the next fan and am pleasantly surprised that she knows her tools. Phillips screwdriver, pliers, tin snips, it doesn’t matter; she never asks for a description or questions what I’m asking for, she just hands it up confidently.

  Halfway into getting the second fan up and well into a great rhythm of getting it done, I watch as she slips on a pair of gloves. Bent onto all fours, she scours the first shower stall floor, her whole body wobbling and shaking with each scrub motion. Man that has to be nasty to her. I really do not want her to turn around and leave, but then again I’m unable to look away.

  After fumbling around as I hand-screw a bolt onto the blade, I reach into my pocket for another one.

  My mouth drops open as I get ready to ask for the socket wrench, but I stop, my body heat intensifying and my lower extremities thinking on their own. Holy shit. Her ass is sticking up in the air and her back glistens with sweat. The socket wrench can wait. Last thing I want to do is interrupt her work. Reaching to grab the next fan blade and rearrange the order of my work for the sake of preserving this moment, I clip my hand along the edge of the two other blades that I have wedged on the step, nearly knocking them to the ground.

  “Shit,” I say under my breath with another quick look in her direction.

  Oh hell! This time, her back is bowed and her ass is stuck out even more, making me think some very x-rated thoughts. She looks up and completely catches me staring. I quickly grab the next fan blade and make out that I am inspecting its construction, looking from the sculpted edge to each of the three screw holes that are predrilled in it. I don’t think she fell for that.

  A small smirk slowly sneaks across my face, but I force it down and continue on with my work. No doubt this would go faster if I didn’t have the distraction of her bent over below me, but I am perfectly fine with that.

  Finally, I get the last fan set in place and I turn them all on high before we dive into painting the floors. Only a few more items to check off the list and we will have nothing but a fun day ahead. It doesn’t take long to get a coat of paint down on the floor. The only complaint I have is that she is across the room from me. However, considering she is edging around the sinks, I have a great view again. I really owe whoever invented bikinis a huge thanks!

  After a quick lunch that I now wish I would have put more thought into, we set down our painting equipment as I carry the ladder out. My foot catches on something and I glance down seeing a mess of paint. Dammit. I grit my teeth and clamp my jaw tightly at the added time it will take for me to clean up the mess. Setting the ladder down in front of the door long ways, I reposition the wet paint sign so that it is visible from the shoreline. Hopefully that will deter any outside campers from coming in and undoing all our hard word.

  Spinning around, I make my way back inside just in time to see Alyssa’s feet fly into the air. My eyes widen and my heart trips up, sending me sprinting over the floor to catch her fall. Her head lands in my hands and my whole body falls forward with her, forcing me to push the weight of our tumble towards my hands so that my body weight doesn’t crash on top of her. My knuckles take a hard hit, a sharp pain rushing through my fingers and up to my wrist. I’ve been working with my hands for a straight month with very little wear and tear to them, but this week, I have managed to slam them with a hammer, jab them with nails and now use them as a shield.

  She lets out a small whine and my heart sinks with the thought of her being hurt.

  After searching her face for any sign of distress, she teasingly moans out, “Ouch, my butt!” and my chest rises with a sigh of relief.

  We both laugh at the clumsy turn our day has taken. I had one hell of a view of that area of her body earlier so I’d hate for it to be damaged in any way; I let her know, too. As our laughter dies down, a heart pounding silence forms between us and I literally cannot take my eyes off her. Our chests are pressed together and I’m trying hard not to put my full weight on her, but my arms are fairly exhausted from a lack of sleep and countless minutes holding the heavy ass weight of three fans in the air.

  I pull one of my hands out from behind her back and run it along the contours of her face while keeping the other pinned behind her head as a cushion. My eyes snap down to her mouth for a second and I cannot get the images of last night out of my head. Gravity tugs at me and I’m not even sure my mind is functioning anymore. My lips find hers and with slow tender movements, we relive the highlight of our moonlight walk. Once again, my whole body responds, but this time, having my body against hers.

  Pulling back, I lick my lips fully intent on going in for another kiss, but another subtle stinging sensation in my hand has me holding off. I drag my hand out from behind her head so that I can get repositioned and am shocked to see a mess of blonde hair mixed with sticky gray paint all tangled up and stuck to my hand. For a minute, I have no clue how to even tell her; I don’t even know if she’ll be able to get it out.

  “Shit … your hair. There’s paint in it,” gushes from my mouth in a distressed tone that I’m sure will have her bolting to her feet and knocking me to the ground.

  I push back to kneel across her, sparking a quiet whimper from her. All the girls I’ve ever known would be going ballistic right about now. I carefully pry each strand from my hand, dread engulfing me. Damn! How is she going to get this out? Looking down to assess her panic in this situation, I’m floored to see that not only is she not freaking out, she is calmly watching every move I make with very little concern in her eyes. I can’t even read the look on her face.

  At first, she nearly looks disappointed, not at the situation but at the u-turn our day took with this venture. That’s what I’m feeling, because paint or no paint I am getting extremely turned on from being this close to her.

  I pull the last hair from my hands and grin, leaning down to suggest something that I hope she is up for. Her breathing picks up and I can’t help myself from swooping in to capture one more kiss.

  I graze my lips against hers in a teasing quick kiss then move my mouth to her ear.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, a bit embarrassed by my boldness, but also knowing she’s beyond that.

  Staring her right in the eyes, I take in her reaction to my words and get the sneaking suspicion that she is equally affected by me as I am by her. I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this.

  Moving back to her skin, with my lips close enough to take a nibble, I go for it, “We have paint all over us. Do you want me to help you clean up?” My heart is about to fly out of my chest and jet down the road at warp speed.

  Although, those are the only words that come out of my mouth, they are not at all what I am thinking, because right now I want nothing more than to remove this tiny bikini, lay her down and run my tongue down her body until she is screaming for me. However, it’s been a while so once her bikini is off, it may be a show-stopper for me. Either way, I’d still make sure we both enjoyed it.

  After she gets up and takes in the extent of paint covering her, we both laugh. Pressing my lips together to control my hunger, I put my hand out and silently pray that she’ll take it in her own. Her eyes go straight from my hand to my face, but I don’t relent; I don’t even feel in control of my actions anymore. With no words spoken between the both of us, she takes my hand and I lead her to the last shower stall. My head spins and I squeeze my eyes shut to ward off all the images and possibilities that are cropping up in my head as I crank the water on full blast.

  Stepping aside, I nervously motion for her to pass by me, “Get in … I’ll help you wash it out of your hair.” Holy shit, did I really just say that. Blood swishes through my veins at high speed, my pulse thro
bs in my wrist as if it may break free and my chest clamps around my heart as I struggle to breathe through each second that passes.

  Panic finally sets in and blankets every feature on her face, but all I can do is laugh at what she must be thinking. Honestly, it’s what I’m hoping for.

  “You can shower with it on,” I suggest with a snicker. Her mouth snaps shut, but I have to tease her a little more. “Unless you want to strip down.” A smile twitches at my lips as I slowly but surely feel my cheeks rise in amusement of her nervousness.

  I didn't expect for this to be a legitimate shower complete with no clothes, however I won’t stand in the way if she suddenly drops her clothes to the ground. Her worry eases some with my joke and she moves past me to get in, still in her swimsuit.

  Once her body is under the spray of water, she turns to face me and closes her eyes while the water glide over her head and down her chest. When she opens her eyes and looks at me, I force myself to snap my mouth closed before my entire chest is soaked through with my own saliva. She may actually see drool dripping from the corner of my mouth at this point. Holy hell, I think showers are my new favorite thing!

  “WAIT!”

  I stop and stare at her. She doesn't sound mad; she doesn’t even sound concerned that I am going to join her. I've never showered with a girl before, but I'd have to admit that it does make the top five on my bucket list.

  She points to my jeans in question. “What about your jeans?”

  Hell, if she wants them off, I can handle that. I’m confident enough.

  “Should you maybe …” she hesitates, trailing her eyes down my body, “… take them off or …”

  A surge of excitement rockets through me and I move my hand to the snap of my jeans, looking at her to make sure she’s comfortable with this. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  Her eyes open as wide as saucers as she watches my hands with the same hungry look that is plastered on my face. She mumbles something, but my mind has already zoned off in anticipation of being under the water with her. My heart is about to hammer its way out of my chest plus my pants are already tighter.

  I did bring a pair of swimming trunks with me this morning so I could quickly change and go find her later¸ but no way in hell do I want to interrupt the intensity of this moment to go change now.

  I ease the zipper down, nervously expecting her to stop me. After sliding them off, I stand there in only a pair of black boxer briefs, wishing I could read her mind. Keeping my eyes pinned on her, I watch her mouth drop open as she stares, definitely not focused on anything above my waist. Fidgeting nervously, I look down and know I can't hide the fact that she has turned me on. Embarrassment flushes my skin, so I quickly jump in behind her.

  She instantly turns to face me, taking in my state as the streams of water wash across my boxers, soaking them down and allowing all of my anatomy to rise to the occasion for a prolonged “Hello”. Maybe I should be humiliated, but I'm too excited that I spilled that tray of paint. I’m also extremely grateful that we just happened to be working in the shower house. Thank you fate.

  Without a single word spoken, I reach up to wash the gooey mess from her hair. She moves in closer, her slick wet skin pressed to my body and the sounds of our breath is so heavy that it nearly drowns out the spray of water aimed at us. I massage my fingertips gently through her hair with a steady pattern of soft scrubs, tender touches, and a truck load of caution so that I don’t rip her hair out in the process; it's matted in there pretty good.

  Her head falls against my chest and although it should be driving me crazy, I’m 150% focused in on the sticky paint that seems to be cemented to each strand of hair. Breathing out discretely through my nose, I take a minute to calm my breaths, heartbeat and areas down below that refuse to listen to my brain. A quick smooth warmth hits my chest through the water and even though it could be anything, I know without a doubt that her tongue just grazed my body.

  I don't think. My brain is no longer steering this vessel. A new captain has taken control and it is raring to go. In two seconds flat I have her up in my arms and pressed against the wall.

  I claim her mouth as the heat from her body presses up against me, making slow rubbing motions that drive me insane. This is without a doubt moving way too fast, but I am like a runaway train, unable to put the brakes on. It's so tempting to move these two tiny scraps of fabric that stand between us; to slide her suit aside and to feel everything that I so desperately want to feel, but I hold back.

  Looking down at her chest heaving up and down, the need within me is overpowering. I take a deep breath and focus on her, prepared to stop if I get any indication from her what so ever.

  My hand sits just below her swimsuit top and I want so badly to

  Feel her …

  See her …

  Taste her …

  To slide it to the side … or just remove it all.

  If all of her is as sweet as her lips, I may not be able to contain myself. She nods her head, clearly reading the question in my eyes and my whole sense of control falters. I dive in, pushing my hand beneath the wet fabric and take a full handful of her beautiful body while my tongue dances with hers.

  I should put the brakes on, but holy shit, she feels so good. She urges me on giving me permission to remove her top with another nod and I don't hesitate to untie the small strings that hold her garment intact. The water pushes the fabric down her body which is still tightly against mine, offering very little room between us, but I manage to take in the full sight of her bare chest, unable to resist going in for more.

  “Oh thank you,” I mutter under my breath more to myself.

  My mouth descends on her plump, voluptuous breast, pushing a low whimper from her mouth. I shift her downward against my body; the urgent need that seems to be burning within her is raging inside of me as well. We grind and rub against one another in a rhythm that makes my mind run away with what everything else would feel like with her. I have no control anymore; my mind has packed up and left, leaving one thing to lead me forward and it definitely does.

  With an insatiable hunger, I wildly taste and lick at her lips and neck until the most intense feeling I've ever felt begins to build and build and build within me. Throwing my head back in an eruption of sheer ecstasy, a loud groan escapes my mouth. A soft moan comes from her as I fling my head forward into her neck unable to think, speak or move. All I can do is squeeze my arms around her tightly while the aftershocks of our momentum spark through me.

  The wave subsides and an overwhelming exhaustion sets in. My arms and legs may very well give out so I tighten my grip on her with one hand cupping her ass and the other around her waist. It takes extreme effort to catch my breath but this is a feeling I can live with.

  As soon as my heart rate returns to a non-heart attack state, I search her face to see if there is any level of regret in her eyes, but all I am met with is her beautiful smile. That makes me take a deep breath as I slowly lower my gaze to where our chests are sealed together. Her wet, bare breasts are perfectly crushed against my skin and my restraint is barely hanging on from wanting to throw her down for round two.

  Instead, I hold back as we come down from our high … slowly.

  “Can you stand ok?” It’s a simple question, but as soon as I say it, I regret it. That sounded so cocky … it seemed like she was as into it as me, but what if she wasn’t?

  She nods, so I set her down, my arms feeling a bit of relief from being free of any weight.

  “I really didn’t mean that in a cocky way as If I rocked your world or something,” I tell her awkwardly, my voice jumping in pitch and tone from our activities as if I’m spastic and juiced up on caffeine. “It’s just … I about fell to my knees myself, there at the end,” I say sheepishly, my chest expanding on a deep breath as I wait nervously for her to say anything.

  “Well, just to be clear you did rock my world …”

  Pride swells in my chest with her words and I seriously do
not want to leave this stall. Instead I kiss her again. Afterwards, she nonchalantly covers her chest with one arm and suddenly looks a bit shy, so I concede to give her a little privacy.

  Looking down, my mind freefalls along with my gaze, carefully going over everything that took place. Wow … did that really happen?

  “Ummm … I’ll be right back,” I say, still staring at the floor so she doesn’t feel any more vulnerable.

  I give her a smile that probably says a thousand words, two of which are ‘hell yeah’ and then I excuse myself so she can fix her suit. Once around the corner and out of sight, I rush into the stall, tear off my soaked briefs and slide on my trunks faster than I’ve ever moved. I don’t even think I opened Christmas presents this fast as a kid. I’m hoping to catch her before her top is fully affixed. I already got several good looks, but one more definitely wouldn’t hurt. Who knows, maybe she could use some help.

  I tip toe back into the shower she is in and chuckle. She’s standing in front of the stall, holding her swimsuit against her while trying to tie it at the back, but that’s not what’s funny. The confusion that coats her entire face as she sees me in clean trunks is down-right hilarious.

  “What?” she mouths, pointing at them.

  “What...” I counter right back, cracking up, “Did you really think I’d stop in the middle of all that and say excuse me while I go get my swim trunks on.” I laugh harder, watching her expression as she joins in on my amusement. “No way was I going to chance you leaving,” I tell her completely honestly, probably sounding like your typical sex-crazed and one-goal-in-mind sort of guy. Could I have ran over and changed before jumping in? Absolutely. Would it have lead in the same direction if I had? That I do not know, and that is why I continued in the direction we were heading. Showers are definitely my new favorite pastime.