I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(2)

I spent a few moments pondering the stockings and garter clips, then eventually decided against them. Just then, I heard Daniel’s key card click in the lock. I hurriedly finished and ran over to the pool's edge, sitting down and dipping my legs into the water, making as if I'd just been lounging here, waiting for him, in the world's most impractical hanging-around outfit.

I heard him pause just before locking the door behind him - taking in the sight of me, no doubt. My heart thudded in my chest. Why on earth did this still make me nervous?

I heard his footsteps come very close, and then stop. I looked to the side, and saw his bare feet planted on the floor just a few inches from where I sat. I let my eyes drift up to him, an innocent smile on my face.

"Thinking of going for a swim?" His eyes crinkled at the corners as he sat down next to me.

I shrugged one shoulder. "Care to join me?"

"I would," he said, leaning back and slightly to the side, so that he was very close to me. "But I think there are some activities that are better done on dry land, no matter how appealing the fantasy might be."

I had to laugh. He was right. I'd had pool sex once in my life, and that was one time too many.

He reached over and put his index finger under my chin, turning my face just enough to kiss him. His face had that unmistakable warmth that came from soaking up sunlight, and I brought up my hand to touch the side of it, running against the grain to feel that slight stubble that was always there, no matter how recently he'd shaved. He used a real badger brush and one of those old-style safety razors with the removable blades, claiming it was the best shave anyone could ever get. I wondered who'd taught him how to do it that way. His father? But I never asked.

His hand rested on my waist, sliding around to the small of my back and staying there for a while. He liked to touch me there, I suppose as a subtle message to me and anyone else who might notice - she's mine. And I had to admit, I didn't hate it.

I arched into his touch, subtly, parting my lips against his so that he could explore my mouth with this tongue. He never seemed to get tired of the landscape, as if there was always something new there to find. He pulled away after a moment, smiling down at the absurd little bow nestled between the cups of my bra.

"Nice touch, isn't it?" I grinned as he tugged at it gently between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't think it actually unties, though."

"What a shame," he said, his eyes gone deliciously dark. "I really wanted to take every little piece of this off you, one by one."

I swallowed. "It won't take long," I blurted. "There's really not much to it."

Ugh. Was that really my best line?

He didn't seem bothered by my moment of intense awkwardness, or maybe he was just used to them by now. He leaned forward, kissing me again and pushing me backwards, down, until I was lying beneath him on the cool tile that surrounded the water. I let my hand dip into the pool as he pressed his body into mine - at least one part of me could stay grounded in reality while I let myself be consumed with him.

With a sudden movement, he reached up and grabbed the straps of my bra, yanking them down and abruptly freeing my breasts. I gasped a little, smiling when his eyes raked over me like he was seeing me for the first time. I had to give him that - in his arms, I never felt taken for granted.

On our first honeymoon, when we finally gave in to the chemistry that had been smoldering between us since we first started pretending to be in love, he'd told me that he'd been taught most of his sexual prowess by someone whom I could only assume was some sort of tantric guru. It showed. He approached sex like it was a performance, but not in a bad way - he played me like a virtuoso, in fact, tuning me gently when he sensed I was getting too far away from the experience. I wouldn't say that I used to dissociate during sex, exactly, but I had never really felt present either. Daniel had changed all that. He always noticed every minute change in my reactions, and would pull me back to him when I tried to pull away.




His favorite thing was to remind me to breathe.

I still forgot, sometimes. I would grow tense with the desire, or the anxiety of being so open with someone, or both - and I would hold on to each breath like it might be the last one I'd ever get.

His breath was hot on my chest as he pressed a firm kiss on my breastbone, just between the two soft swells. I squirmed. He was always paying attention to parts of my body that most men ignored, making frantic beelines for the hot spots and ignoring everything else. Even after the last year and a half, I was still comparing him to the "other men" who were an increasingly hazy memory in the back of mind. I wasn't sure why, exactly. It was like my brain was constantly trying to remind me to be grateful for what I had. Nobody else would treat you like this, you know. Nobody else will ever make you feel the way he does.

I knew that. I knew that. I didn't know why there was a small voice in my head that always wanted to remind me, as if I wasn't grateful enough. As if I didn't appreciate him.

Of course I did. Of course I appreciated him. I was still here, wasn't I?

Suddenly, Daniel jumped to his feet, extending his hand and pulling me with him. I heard myself let out a very undignified squeal as he grabbed me around the waist, hauled me off my feet, and dumped me into the pool before I knew what was happening.

I surfaced, spluttering, to see him grinning on dry land. I hauled back and sent a mighty splash of water in his direction, shrieking when he reacted by jumping in and grabbing me tightly, both of us laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.