by CJ Martín
It’s the closest I’ve been to her in almost a week, and the urge to reach out to touch her is almost uncontrollable. My hungry eyes sweep over her like a man starved. Her tight bikini top barely conceals her tits. Trust me, I’ve been trying not to look all night. She more than fills out the small top and her nipples form peaks beneath. I have half a mind to scold her for her choice. Doesn’t she realize that guys are staring at her? Shamelessly checking her out all night? Oh yeah. I noticed that too.
“What’s up?” She looks at JJ. She ignores me like I’m not even there, and when she averts her gaze it lands on Tamara. I can see the cogs of her brain working. I wish I knew what she is thinking. Her expressionless face gives nothing away but the way she bites her lower lip belies her—I’ve come to recognize it as one of her tells. And I can clearly see that she most definitely doesn’t like Tamara.
“You wanna play Chicken?” JJ asks her, his gaze never leaving mine. I try to school my expression, keep it neutral, but at this point it’s impossible. He is crossing a line.
“Chicken?” Gigs scrunches her nose up as she processes his question. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Really?” He shouts. “El, you’re so lame.” He splashes her playfully.
“Lame?” She shouts over the music and thrusts her body up out of the water to push down on his shoulders. JJ plunges under from the weight of her body and she holds him there for several seconds before she releases him.
As I watch this exchange, all I can think is how dangerously close JJ’s face comes to her tits. And how I wish it were me that she was pushing under the water, just so I could feel her hands on me. Just so I could be close to her. Subconsciously I increase my grip on Tamara and she shifts closer to me in response.
“Nice, El.” JJ sputters as he spits water out of his mouth.
She winks at him. “So, what’re we playing?”
He grabs her arm and tugs her closer to him to be heard over the music. “Chicken. I’ll lift you up onto my shoulders. Vik has Tamara. First one to get knocked off loses.”
Finally, Gigs acknowledges me. Her eyes meet mine and the sizzle of energy between us shoots right down to my dick. She breaks our gaze, looking slowly from me to Tamara, unsure but intrigued. She absolutely cannot go through with this.
“Come on, JJ. I’m sure you can find someone else. She’s never played this before.” I try to disguise my plea as a joke.
“Ha. Ha.” JJ intones. “Let El decide if she wants to play.”
“She doesn’t,” I say quickly, but instantly regret my outburst.
He has a shit-eating grin on his face, as if he knows exactly what he is doing. I will fucking kill him.
Gigs looks at me pointedly and I see the determination form there. “I would love to play, JJ.” She shoots me a death glare before smiling sweetly at Tamara. “Ready whenever you are.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation where a look passes between JJ and me. I wonder if he’ll take it this far? Is he trying to prove a point? Finally he breaks the tension by grabbing Gigs’s arm. “Come on, girl. Up you go.” He sinks down in the water.
Gigs drapes her legs over JJ’s shoulders and she rests both of her hands on the top of his head for balance as he stands in the water. I watch her rise out of the water like a goddamn goddess. I’m stunned into silence as her delicate legs loop around his chest before she crosses her ankles at the bottom, securing herself in place.
Watching for a few moments longer than necessary, I can’t help myself. She is beautiful. She is perfect. And she is twisted around JJ like a fucking pretzel.
I can’t stand it. My heart begins a rapid pounding in my chest and my breathing becomes more and more labored. Rage courses hot through my veins like I’ve never felt before. I have a sudden vision of my fist colliding with JJ’s jaw and it shattering from the force. My best friend. In this moment I could kill him.
“Come on.” Tamara tugs on my arm to get me to kneel down for her. I sink down to my knees, but my gaze never leaves Gigs. She looks down at me with focused intensity, watching as Tamara hooks her legs over me. My hands find Tamara’s thighs as I lift us out of the water.
“You’re going down, biotch,” Tamara says, and I jerk back.
“Hey. Don’t talk to her like that.” I scold.
“I’m a big girl, Vik.” Gigs’s voice contains no trace of warmth as she gives me one last hard look.
Vik. I fucking hate her referring to me as anything other than Anders. Vik sounds wrong. Impersonal. I say a silent prayer that this game ends quickly. I don’t know how much of this awkwardness I can stand.
“Easy girls.” JJ chimes in. “First knocked off loses. Anything goes. In three, two—”
JJ doesn’t have time to finish his countdown before Tamara lurches forward to grab for Gigs. She shoves her left shoulder hard and Gigs stumbles backward before regaining her balance. Her legs tighten around JJ and his hands come to rest on her outer thighs.
“Easy girl.” He squeezes her thighs gently before his hands skim down her calves and drop back into the water. “You have some strong leg muscles.”
“Sorry.” She breathes out and relaxes her grip.
Tamara goes at her again, shoving her more forcefully this time. Gigs almost falls, but at the last minute regains her balance. JJ’s hands trace back to her legs, further up this time. He’s practically grabbing her ass. He pinches her playfully and says, “Don’t worry. I got you, babe.”
In that moment I snap. I release my grip on Tamara and she falls backward into the water. Without a second glance, I reach for Gigs and ghost my hands up her legs, so smooth and slippery that I have to focus on something else or I’ll get a hard-on. She squeaks as I lift her from JJ’s shoulders and place her down none too gently in the water.
“What the…?” She’s angry, but I don’t have time for her anger now.
I ignore her completely and lunge at JJ, shoving him hard in the chest.
“Anders!” Gigs screams and I register her voice above the din of the music. I pause, but keep my gaze on JJ. If looks could kill he would be six feet under. Who the fuck does he think he is, putting his hands on her like that? He knows she’s off limits. Where the fuck is the bro code?
JJ re-emerges from the water. The fucker is actually smiling. “’Bout time.” He says, as he scrubs the water out of his eyes.
A fresh wave of anger passes over me. He wanted me to make a scene. And that is exactly what I did. Fuck.
Rather than answer him, I bring my fist up and his eyes widen in surprise.
“Anders!” Gigs’s voice is high-pitched and loud, causing me to turn in her direction. Slowly I take in the mob of people who have gathered around the outer edges of the pool, watching intently. What the fuck am I doing?
I spin around and walk over to the steps as fast as I can. I need to get the fuck out of here. What the fuck is my problem? Gigs is not mine. I know I’m being a jealous, controlling asshole. But when I saw JJ’s hands on Gigs, my Gigs… fuck, I lost all rational thought. And babe? She’s not his babe. She’s not his anything.
“Vik,” I hear Tamara call after me, but I stalk away quickly. Everyone clears a path for me. They know better than to mess with me at this moment.
My eyes are unfocused as I glance around the pool house. It’s as if the whole party has come to a standstill. Like the sharp screech of the needle across the record, all that remains is an awkward silence. I suck in a quick breath and look from JJ to Tamara. The decision is easy—I swim over to JJ.
“Are you okay?” I rest my hand on his upper arm.
“Yeah, fine.” He flashes me his signature smile. “All good. Nothing to see here.” He gestures to the group of people crowded around the pool. Slowly they begin to dissipate and the music is re-started.
“What’s his problem?” I ask, shaking my head.
“If you have to ask that El, you’re just as clueless as he is,” JJ says quietly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?
”
He gives me a hard a look, but before he can answer Tamara cuts in. “Glad you’re all so concerned about my safety.”
We both give her a blank look and she continues. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
He looks at me. “You should go check on him.”
“Me? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” My response is quick, the anger evident in my voice.
“El, come on. He needs you right now.”
“How do you know what he needs? He was just about to punch you in the face, yet you’re still concerned about him?”
“Of course. He’s my boy.” JJ’s voice is stoic.
“JJ… he ignored me all week. He doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t miss me.” I try not to let my voice crack.
“Wrong.” His reply is instant.
“No worries.” Tamara cuts in. “I’ll go check on him.”
As she paddles away, JJ gives me a pointed look. “I think we both know what she means by ‘go check on him’.”
My face flushes at the innuendo, and a swell of jealously surfaces. What will she do when she finds him? My insides sour at the thought, and I find myself turning in the direction of the stairs before I’ve even verbalized my thoughts aloud. “Fine,” I call over my shoulder. “I’ll talk to him.”
I don’t waste time on JJ’s response. I need to get to Anders before Tamara sinks her claws into him further. I need to know what’s going on. Need to know what prompted his reaction.
By the time I get out the pool, I spot Tamara off to the side already drying herself off with one of the big, warm, fluffy towels that are stacked neatly on the shelves lining the perimeter of the room. I can’t afford myself that luxury if I want to beat her to Anders, so I turn in the opposite direction and walk purposefully to the other end, trailing a puddle of water behind me.
I pause in the corner, allowing my gaze to sweep over the party. The pool house is packed with people and I struggle to see over the crowd. Erika makes eye contact with me and she nods in understanding before gesturing toward the men’s locker rooms.
“Thank you.” I mouth and turn toward the doors.
I slip inside the men’s locker room and immediately the noise from the party quiets. The large room is silent except for the sound of a single shower running. Is Anders showering? My heart rate increases as I picture Anders five feet away from me. Naked and wet. I sigh as I let the fantasy overtake me.
Standing in the lobby I scan the facilities. There are a few oak benches and linen baskets for used towels. Around the corner through a closed door is the shower area. The area where a naked Anders is right now. A shiver rolls through my body. My skin is covered in goose flesh and I do my best to convince myself that it’s from the air conditioning.
I hesitate, unsure of myself. Do I excuse myself and find him when he’s done? But what if Tamara finds him first? I don’t want to think of what would happen if she does. Finding my bravery I call his name. “Anders.”
No response.
I inch closer to the door and open it a crack. “Anders.”
Still nothing.
I backtrack and decide to wait it out. Sitting down on the wooden bench, I wrap my arms around my cold body. I hug myself tightly in an attempt to warm up.
Having no idea how much time has passed, I decide it must be an eternity. He has to come out eventually. My mind is racing with everything I want to say to him. This can't go on between us. What are we? Friends? Something more? I must gather my courage and ask him. That’s the only way I’ll know for sure.
I hear the screech of the faucets turning and then the water stops completely.
It’s several long minutes before Anders emerges, looking hot as hell in dark blue jeans and a button down shirt. His head is bent as he rounds the corner roughly towel drying his hair and causing it to stick up in all directions. The urge to reach out and run my fingers through his hair has me fisting my hands.
“Anders.” I stand, wanting to get his attention before I startle him.
He comes to an abrupt stop mere feet from me, and he drops the towel on the bench where I’ve been sitting.
“What are you doing here?” He frowns, his voice devoid of emotion.
“I…” I falter. “I thought we should talk.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“You can’t keep avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Really?” I let out an exasperated breath. “You haven’t been home all week.
No texts. No calls. It’s like you dropped off the face of the Earth.”
“I told you, I’ve been busy.” He begins to walk away from me and I reach out in an effort to stop him. “Jesus, Elena! Your hands are like ice.”
His use of my first name momentarily stuns me, and he shakes out of my grip. My heart sinks as he begins to move away from me. He can’t get away quick enough. My feet won’t move and I remain rooted in place as the dull ache of rejection knots inside of me. A few moments later, though, I realize he’s searching for a dry towel.
“There aren't any.” I wrap my arms around myself again. “I’m fine.”
“You're not fine. You're shivering. Here.” He begins to unbutton his shirt and I stare at him dumbfounded. What is he doing? I’m only slightly disappointed when I see his white cotton undershirt. “Put this on.”
“Anders, I’m fine. Really.”
He ignores my protest and slips the shirt around my shoulders. His gaze drops down to my hardened nipples and lingers there longer than is polite. I fold my arms over my chest. When he takes my hand in his to guide my arm into the sleeve I shiver for a completely different reason.
The heat from his shirt instantly warms my skin. His familiar scent, a mixture of pine and mint, floods my nostrils. I’ve missed his smell all week. His t-shirt that I’ve taken to sleeping in no longer smells like him. But I refuse to wash it. I don’t want to erase all traces of him. I don’t realize I’ve turned my head to inhale the scent until he questions me.
“Did you just smell my shirt?” His eyes alight with playful interest.
Embarrassed, I ignore his question. Instead I clear my throat. “Anders, what is going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You almost hit JJ.”
No response.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” I try again, but this time it’s more difficult to keep the hurt out of my voice.
His expression remains neutral, allowing me no insight to how he’s feeling. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. That shit with JJ… I'll deal with it.”
He finally looks at me, but I still can’t read him. Usually his emotions are so open to me, but not tonight. My anger and frustration morph into sadness and my bottom lip begins to quiver. I will not cry in front of him. I realize how pathetic I must look standing in front of him like a drowned rat, my hair in messy curls, makeup smudged. I tremble, my body’s response to the cold, my mess of emotions, and him.
I’m tired. Frustrated. Broken.
He must take pity on me because his expression softens. “Come here,” he says as he wraps his arms around me. His touch is tentative at first, but then gains confidence as he pulls me into him. I breathe into him, my cold body enveloped in his strong, warm arms. On some level I register that this will only add to the awkwardness between us, but I don't move. I can't move. I’m not strong enough to walk away from him.
“I’ve missed you.” I speak into his chest.
“Me too.” He says quietly.
His hands begin a slow caress against my back and the friction combined with his touch causes me to sigh into him. At the sound, he tightens his grip on me and I step further into his embrace.
We stand indecently close together and I feel him harden against me, the length of him pushing firmly against my belly. A flood of warmth rushes between my legs and my gaze instantly flies up to meet his. He stares down at me with hooded eyes. He knows I can feel him. He knows, yet he makes no attempt to back away. His
heartbeat matches my own, producing a rapid, pounding drumbeat in his chest.
“Anders.” I breathe out when I can stand the silence no more. I place both my hands on his chest. The thin fabric of his t-shirt does little to hide the chiseled contours of his body, and I trail my fingers over him gently. He twitches against my belly and I bring my eyes back to his. He says nothing. Does nothing. He simply continues to look at me like I’m a meal he’s about to devour.
With surprising boldness, I allow my fingers to drift lower and skim underneath the hem of his shirt. His hands, which rest on my hips, tighten around me and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
“Elena.” The way he says my name, quiet and deep, causes my skin to prickle with goose bumps.
My fingers work on their own volition, trailing over his belly. His hard, warm flesh feels incredible, and I instinctively push myself harder against him.
His breathing becomes more labored as my fingers move upward. I pause when I reach his nipples and lightly graze my fingernails over him. He hisses and his hips jerk forward. I flatten my palm against his chest to balance myself.
“Elena.” He says my name again as he slowly, very slowly, begins to pull away from me. “We… shouldn’t…”
Shouldn’t what? I’m dying to know, because nothing has ever felt more right. I want to strip off his clothes and run my hands over the length of him. I want to take him in my hands, my mouth, my body. I’ve never wanted to give myself so completely to another human being as I do in this moment.
And it fucking terrifies me.
I can’t think. I’m too desperate for his touch. He’s all around me. His smell. His warmth. His solidness. I move slightly in his arms and rest my cheek against his chest.
His arms loop around my lower back, securing me in place. We stay like that for a long time, neither of us saying a word.
Finally I speak. “You are…” I let my voice trail off because I honestly don't know what to say. Confusing. Sexy. Killing me.
“Gigs.” His voice is strained. “We’re friends. Let’s not fuck it up.”
