Bad Things(64)

I just watched him as moved to grab one of the long floats that was lying along the side of the pool.

“Do you?” he asked, and I couldn’t have guessed what he was asking about to save my life.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you want to hear my idea?” he repeated, pulling the float to me.

He showed no visible strain as he lifted me onto the rolling surface. He pushed me to my back on the inflatable plastic with a firm hand, and I gasped as water splashed into my lap, and onto my stomach with the movement.

“Yes,” I said raggedly.

“I don’t like relationships,” he explained.

“You don’t,” I agreed.

“And you don’t like casual sex,” he continued.

“I don’t.”

“So let’s try this. I get you off. That’s all. It’s perfectly innocent. You won’t feel used, and we stay friends.”

My brain felt too fuzzy just then to argue with the twisted logic he was using. My brows drew together, and I latched onto the biggest gap in his argument.

“What do you get out of it?”

He smiled his best smile, the one that ruined me for every other smile in the world.

I had it worse than I’d realized until just that moment.

“I’ve become obsessed with the idea of making you come. Ever since you told me that no one could get you off—”

“I said hadn’t, not couldn’t,” I argued.

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that you weren’t supposed to take it as a challenge!”

“Well, ever since then, it’s all I can think about. I’ve even been dreaming about it. And then the other morning, when we woke up like that…”

As he’d been speaking, I’d started to regain some brain function, but it went away again in a little puff of smoke when he mentioned that wake up session.

He swallowed hard, his hands moving to rub my stomach, water splashing over the sides of the float and hitting me in gentle waves with his movements. “When I helped you…pleasure yourself, well, I’d thought I was obsessed with it before that, but it got worse…Let me get you off. Don’t worry about me. I’ll go take a shower when you’re finished.”

“I’m not that easy to get off,” I warned him. “I usually take a lot of time, and a vibrator.”

He lifted one of my hands to his mouth, palm first. “How about a vibrating tongue?” he asked against my hand.

What he did next defied all explanation for me. He moved his tongue in fast, jerky little circles on my palm. He was so fast, in fact, that it felt like vibrations.

“What is that? What are you doing?” I asked, trying in vain to pull my hand free.

“Demonstrating what I’m about to do to your clit. Any objections?”

I couldn’t think of one.

He’d made a pretty spectacular promise, but he didn’t start there.

He began rather innocently, his hands massaging the sides of my legs. Of course, his eyes weren’t innocent. My bikini was askew, the triangles still pulled aside to reveal most of each breast, and his eyes were drinking in my dishabille.

He moved one hand to my inner thigh, shifting it so he could step between my legs as his huge hands worked on one lucky thigh.

“You have great hands,” I told him.

“I’m here any time you need a masseuse,” he reassured me.

“I need a masseuse.”

He gripped my hips, moving his hips between my thighs. He pulled until his hardness was nestled against my sex. Between my bikini, and his swim trunks, the position left nothing to the imagination.

I moaned at the contact.

I could literally feel his reaction to that as his erection twitched against me.

“Are you going to be complaining to me about blue balls later?” I asked as he began rubbing my shoulders.

“I won’t complain about any of this, hand to God. In fact, doing this to you has been on my bucket list for a couple of weeks now.”

“I bet your bucket list is just full of chicks you want to go down on.”

He had worked down one arm and was massaging my hand. I’d never realized how much tension I carried there until he was rubbing it out of me. My eyes almost rolled back in my head, it felt so good.

“Nope. Getting my hands on you was the only sexual act on that list.”