The lights are on in the pool, and a lone figure cuts his way across the length. Strong shoulders, chiseled arms which cleave the water. JJ kicks back, the muscles of his thighs ripple, and he propels himself forward. He reaches the end of the pool, turns, then swims to the other side. And again. And again. I count thirty laps before he swims over to the edge of the pool closest to my window. He grabs the edge, treads water, probably catching his breath. Waits a beat, then another. Then he hauls himself up and over the side.
He straightens and the water pours off of his shoulders. He walks over to the towel on the lounge chair, snatches it up and begins to dry himself. Sweet Jesus. That ass. He has the tightest, hardest ass I’ve ever seen. And his thighs? They are heavily muscled. They flex and bend as he dries his upper body. His shoulder blades are defined and stand out in relief. With that narrow waist and trim hips, the man is in prime shape. He towels off his hair and I swear all the moisture he’s mopping up seems to appear between my legs.
I squeeze my thighs together, and because I can’t stop myself, I shove my fingers inside my sleep shorts and being to rub my clit. Sensations ripple out from the point of contact. My toes curl. He crosses over to the house and disappears from sight. I lean my forehead against the window and shove two fingers inside myself. Jesus, I’m soaked. I’ve never felt this way. So on edge, so… electrified. The pores on my skin pop. This is wrong. So wrong. I shouldn’t be masturbating to thoughts of my boyfriend’s father. Shouldn’t be shoving my fingers inside my pussy as I pretend it’s his digits in me, his lips on me, his gaze staring deep into mine as he digs his fingers into my hips to hold me in place. As he presses his thumb into my engorged clit and circles it, as he pulls my leg up and over his hip, spreading me open for his ministrations. As he curls his fingers inside me and hits that spot deep inside.
"JJ, ohmigod, JJ..." The sound of my breathless voice drives me over the edge. My nipples peak and my thighs contract. The pressure in my core explodes, moisture drips from my slit and I come, clenching down on my fingers. I stay there gasping as sweat slides down my throat and between my breasts. My legs tremble. I pull my fingers out, bring them to my lips, and suck on my arousal. The sweetness of my arousal fills my palate. It only seems to arouse me further, and I just came. I orgasmed, and without a vibrator, which has never happened before. The man hadn’t even touched me. Just thinking of him and pretending that he was finger-fucking me was enough to make me come. My heartbeat stays elevated and I draw in a breath, and another. Goddamn, I need a cold shower.
I turn, and my gaze clashes with his burning one. "You? What are you doing here?"
JJ pushes away from where he’s leaning against the doorframe.
"It’s Jack."
"Jack?"
"Jack." He prowls over to me. I slide back, hit the window, and sensations seem to explode down my spine. "If you’re going to cry out my name, you may as well get it right."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." I shake my hair back over my shoulder.
"Liar," he says in a casual tone. "I heard you, girl."
"It’s Lena. The least you can do is get my name right," I spit out.
One side of his lips quirks. It’s not a smile. Oh, no, JJ never smiles. It’s more an action resembling a grimace. Or the sly smile of a panther, all sleek and hard as he stalks me. He closes the distance between us until the tips of his toes brush mine. I shiver. Oh, did I mention that he’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt? Black ink peers out from under the neckline. This is the most casual I’ve seen him, and let me tell you, casual JJ is even more sexy than JJ dressed in his formal suit. The heat from his body reaches out to me. And his scent, sherry oak and cinnamon notes underlaid with the scent of the pool water and the lingering fragrance of his cigar smoke.
Fuck me, right now. How’s a girl supposed to resist a man who looks like he’s her every wet dream come true?I’ve never had a thing for older men, honestly. But JJ redefines the meaning of 'old.' He’s not old as in ancient, but old as in seasoned, experienced, more ruthless, more focused, more dominant. He’s just more. More everything. My ovaries quiver.
He bares his teeth, then leans in and runs his nose up my cheek. A moan bleeds from me.That’s not me. That was. Not me. How embarrassing. He inhales deeply and my pussy clenches. I swear, I can feel the cream ooze out from between my thighs. I am ready for him. He hasn’t even touched me, and I’m ready for him.Fuck, fuck, fuck.I am crushing on my boyfriend’s father. Someone who is almost the same age as my own father. The father, who cheated on my mother and left our family to start a new one. Is it genetic? Is that why I’m so close to cheating on my boyfriend? And with his father, no less.
"Stop," I say through gritted teeth. "We can’t do this."
JJ stiffens. He doesn’t move away, though. He stays there, with his nose buried in my hair.
"JJ," my voice cracks. I clear my throat. "Please."
"Say my name first." His big shoulders bunch. His muscles are so coiled that they seem to be made of rock. His chest rises and falls. His breath lifts the hair at me temple. "Say. My. Name."
"You first," I whisper.What are you doing? Why are you having this conversation with him? Why can’t you simply walk past him and tell him to leave?I raise my arms to push him away, but instead, place my hands on his chest. Every part of him seems to go on alert. The heat from his body seems to intensify. And oh, god... He’s so hard, so sculpted, so perfectly formed. I spread my fingers and push down to feel the resistance of those cut pecs.
"Lena," he says in a tortured voice.
My stomach jumps. My heartbeat races in tandem with the beat that has been activated between my legs.
"Lena," he growls. And a thousand little fires light up my skin. My nerve endings seem to detonate.
"Jack." I sway toward him, but he steps back so suddenly that I stumble. He touches my shoulder to right me, then pulls back as if it burns him. I am burning up. The air between us is rife with so much unsaid. "Jack." I tilt my head back to search his features. "It suits you."
His dark eyes burn into mine. He seems to be eating me up with his gaze.
"Jack," I whisper.
"Next time you masturbate, at least own up to who you were thinking about when you came."
"It was Isaac I was thinking about," I insist.
"Like I said, you’re still a little girl. You don’t have the courage to own up to the attraction between us."
"There’s nothing between us. You just happened to walk in at an inopportune moment."