185
“Wow, so, like, as in real dating, not just sex?” She looks impressed. Her eyes again flick to him as he pulls himself out of the water at the far side, a vision of smooth muscle and gorgeousness.
Maybe you need a poke in the brain, followed by a sharp jab in the throat!
“If you’re asking if we’re serious, then yes. I live with him. He loves me,” I point out flatly and turn to the magazines on the low table, picking up the first on the pile, trying to act indifferent to her and succeeding, something I was always good at.
“How did you manage that? I heard Jake was a hopeless womanizer, more chance of getting blood from a stone.” She looks me up and down, and I can tell she’s comparing us as she pushes her bust out and rearranges her legs on the lounger.
I swear, honey, you’re going to meet the water in a second, and I’m sure swimming will be hard with my foot on your head.
“I didn’t do anything; Jake is the one who pursued me … relentlessly.” I smile to myself. Even though our relationship is far more complex, it sounds good to summarize it that way. I glance over at him, now back in the pool, and see his smile turned our way, that familiar inner heat hitting me with eye contact and distracting me from my crazy jealousy for a second. I still my response and raise an eyebrow at him instead.
He’s the one keeping his distance. He doesn’t get a smile for it.
“I guess you either had a chastity belt to stave that off or were an absolute tiger in bed to keep him interested,” she smiles, her eyes focused on Jake as he pulls himself out of the pool again, his shorts now clinging to his butt and thighs and showing off every muscle perfectly, not to mention how much he is packing below the waist. Her head follows him as he strolls across the side, her eyes widening at his obvious bulge and how his muscles flex and tense as he moves and lifts a towel from a nearby lounger.
I hate you.
The girl has irritated me enough; I ignore her and turn on my side, away from her, to get a grip on my irrational thoughts and violent intentions, opening the magazine to make it clear I’m done.
She shifts on the lounger, and her foot grazes me as she maneuvers herself into a new position. Glancing back in anger, I catch her posing like a wanton tramp, thrusting her bust forward and exposing her leg through her open wrap as Jake approaches.
I guess I was wrong about this one. Not so sweet and nice after all. Definitely ripe for a brutal beating.
I jump up and walk away from the lounger. Jake doesn’t stop to acknowledge me; instead, he continues walking toward the lounger and sits beside her in the space I’d just vacated, making me stop dead in my tracks.
What the F …? Jake always soothes my jealousy!
She positively beams at him despite him shedding water all over her. Giving him a haughty glare, I go back and sit on the lounger next to them. I’m not leaving with him acting like an asshole. I sit a foot away and pick up my magazine again, ignoring his grin and jutting my chin out in anger. I can feel his wicked gaze flicking my way and see how he’s sprawled out casually beside her, all tanned, carved torso and long legs.
Asshole.
“So, Cara … Arrick tells me you’re a freshman in college?” His smooth Casanova Carrero voice eases over her, and I want to throat-punch him. He’s in flirt mode. I can tell by his entire manner. I suppress the urge to openly glare at him, pushing the magazine open to another page aggressively.
“Umm, yes, Jake.” She rolls his name on her tongue as seductively as she can. I look up and see Arrick shaking his head in amusement, which only angers me more.
Isn’t this his girlfriend? This girl who’s practically spreading her legs for my boyfriend to bang her?
My rage ignites, and I get up and storm off toward the house. I need to get out of this sundress and into something that Jake will notice. I reel when I see he doesn’t follow me. Hurt and anger battling one another, I catch a smug look in his eye when I glance back. It’s all part of his little game; he thinks he can make my jealousy work against me, so I’ll cave and beg him to come to make love to me.
I think not.
I lift my chin defiantly.
* * *
In the room, I pull out all my clothes and rage when I can’t locate a bikini. I hadn’t packed for a weekend in the Hamptons and have nothing that would turn his head with neck-breaking speed. Looking through, the only things I can find that are remotely skimpy are my running clothes; I chuck them down in dismay. I get up, stomp out of the room, slightly annoyed, and run into Alessandra, the girlfriend of one of the cousins. She’s a swimwear model with a body to die for and a heavy Italian accent.
“Ahh, hello, Emma? Right?” she smiles warmly, a towel draped over her arm and a sun lotion bottle in her hand. She’s heading down to the pool and looking devastatingly sexy in her black molded two-piece.
“Yes … hi … You wouldn’t have a spare bikini, would you? I didn’t pack for this,” I laugh shyly and see the sparkle in her eye.
“Of course! I always pack many. Come with me. I have something so perfect for you,” she smiles and turns, leading me back to her room with a sexy catwalk stride. I can’t help but be awed by this sexual being swaying in front of me. She has the body of a woman who works out religiously and eats only organic fresh air.
* * *
“You don’t think it looks skimpy and kind of slutty?” I’m evaluating myself in the mirror in the smallest red two-piece I’ve ever seen, and I feel completely self-conscious. I’m not against a bikini, Jake’s seen me in them plenty of times, but this one is borderline indecent. Somehow, while still covering all the vital areas, it has managed to lift and push out my cleavage into something very impressive. My stomach and thighs look longer and leaner when defined by the low-cut bottoms, which also seem to sculpt my buttocks. She has put me in high-heeled red sandals to complete the look, and my legs look endless.
“Trust me, it suits you very much,” she gushes, coming behind me and tucking my hair back from my face before applying a little bronzer to my cheeks and between my breasts. “You have a gorgeous body … You work out? I think you should keep it. It suits you much more.” Her heavily accented English is almost sensual, and her purring praise sways me.
“Sort of … And thank you,” I blush; lately, all my workouts have been at Jake’s hands, but before that, I did use to run and keep fit, so I’m toned and bikini ready. I feel majorly underdressed.
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