“Okay,” Patrick says with a shy smile. He stops me right before we enter the dining room. “Hey, I’m sorry that Lourdes didn’t work out either.”
I nod. “Thanks, man.”
“Was she really that weird?”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You have no idea. Tell you what? Let’s go out for a drink next week and I’ll share the story.”
“I’d like that.”
Chapter Eight
SPIN CYCLE
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Something about the idea of Elle in Maui is the sharp snap of a match being lit. I feel the wave of heat every time I think of her with him and it burns.
What if she really is in love with the Viking? I haven’t heard from her in three days. I start second guessing my decision not to sleep with her when I could have.
I can’t stop myself from imagining all the ways I would take her on the beach in Maui, rolling over the dunes and fucking her slow until every inch of our bodies was covered with sand. I’d drive her over the edge with the pounding waves drowning out our moans.
For hours after we would shake the sand out of our hair, and feel the burn of sex on our skin. I can almost smell the salt and faint whiff of coconut simmering off her warm body.
Just when I think I’m going to start shopping for airline tickets to the islands to steal her away from him, she texts me.
I can’t even Paulie . . .
What does that mean exactly?
I wish she’d called instead of texted. I really miss hearing her voice and all her little sighs.
I’m really relaxed and so tan, the most glorious bronze tone. And all this swimming has done wonders for my thighs and my ass is so tight . . . I may never return to the mainland.
I guess the trip has loosened her up again to toy with me.
Don’t be such a tease.
But I like teasing you.
Is that how it is? That’s cold.
No it isn’t . . . it’s hot. And furthermore I went and bought a teeny tiny white bikini today and I’m pretty sure I have never, nor will ever, look this good again. So you don’t just like me, if you could see me you’d want me. Badly. I’m certain your resistance over screwing me would crumble.
It’s hard to say if I would’ve crumbled since you aren’t around to show me.
Take my word for it.
Pictures or it never happened.
How can I shoot a full-length picture of myself? If I ask Stephan he will get suspicious.
Have you ever heard of those magic pieces of glass called mirrors? They work astounding well for full-length selfies.
Of course! What was I thinking! Give me 5 . . .
I pace back and forth across my living room until my phone finally pings. My fingers tremble as I press on the tiny jpeg of her and wait for it to go full size.
Oh. My. God.
I fall back into the armchair and brace my arms so I can study this picture indefinitely.
She texts when several minutes pass with no response from me.
Well?
You’re right.
About what specifically?
It’s a good thing you aren’t here.
Because . . .
That tiny bikini would be in tiny shreds on the floor.
Sigh. That’s so hot Paulie.
Well, you’re seriously hot. Surely you know this.
Mmm maybe. But I really like hearing you say it.
Something about the flirting in her texts is making me wild. It’s bad enough that just looking at her bikini shot has me all worked up, but her teasing has resulted an epic hard-on. It’s frustrating because I have to keep stopping fisting it to reply to her texts. Thank God for voice command on this phone, ’cause I want to just close my eyes and imagine her straddling me with her tits in my face as she grinds over me.
Hey Paulie . . . will you swim with me in the ocean sometime?
I’ll swim with you anywhere if you wear that bikini.
I wish Stephan was fun like you.
I’m glad he isn’t. It makes me extra awesome.
I’ll say. Do you know what he’s doing right now?
On another business call?
No, he’s following the room maid around supervising her work. He’s done it every day. It makes me want to scream.
I bet. But I don’t want to talk about him, I want to talk about you.
I also want to tell her how much I miss her but that wouldn’t be cool considering everything.
Hey, Paul, I know we’re just friends and all but will you be looking at my hot bikini picture later when you get off?
I swallow hard. She knows me so well.
What makes you think I’m not looking at it and getting off now?
Are you?
Yes.
Pictures or it didn’t happen.
Use your imagination.
Believe me, I am.
Time for me to finish what you started, naughty tease.
Me too. Xoxo
I remember that she mentioned an important set of meetings in the following week so I’m assuming she’s back home, unless the Viking pulled a fast one. I keep hoping she’ll call or send me more dirty texts, but nothing. So on Tuesday I drive by her house early evening and don’t see any sign of her, but when I do the same Wednesday I see her on her porch with a watering can, moving from one flower pot to another.
She must have just come from work because she’s wearing one of those tight business-like navy skirts and a white fitted jacket thing that shows off her golden tan. I let out a long sigh and either I’m having a caffeine reaction, or my heart is racing just at the sight of her. I roll down the window and lean my head out.
“Hey lady! Haven’t you heard we’ve got a drought going on?”
She holds her hand up above her brow to shield the sun until she spots me.
Grinning, I wave.
She puts her hand on her hip and shakes her head. “Mr. Sprinkler is chastising me about using water?”
I park and step out of my car. “So what if I am?”
“You want to come regulate me, Mr. Official Guy?”
“Maybe I will.” I amble up to her front porch and flash a pretend harsh look. “How much water have you used with this activity?”
“Ha! Not enough!” she exclaims as she steps closer and tips her can in my direction. “You know what? You’re distracting me, and when I’m distracted my aim with the watering can isn’t so good,” she says with a flirty side-glance.
I pretend not to notice that’s she’s watering my feet and before she’s figured out my plan, I try to wrestle the can out of her hand. The resulting struggle creates a splash that soaks the front of her jacket.
I expect her to shriek and jump back, but instead she slowly unbuttons her jacket and opens the front, revealing the sheer white blouse she’s wearing underneath. We both stare at each other and then down at her chest as the water that splashed down her neckline does its magic.