“Okay, I give up. I give up,” she yells, raising her arms over her head in surrender.
“Are you sure about that?” My arms slip around her waist from behind as I snatch her up in my grasp. Her back to my chest, I can feel the vibration as she giggles. “Or is this a ruse to get me closer so you can surprise me?”
“Let me go and find out,” she dares.
“Hell no.” I dive to the side, still holding on to her, and we go under together. A flurry of bubbles escapes both of our mouths as we laugh underwater. Releasing my hold, we both rise to the surface. As soon as my shoulders clear the water, Juliet is on me, doing her best to push me back under. She puts up a good fight, but her small frame is no match for my more muscular one. We end up laughing more than battling.
In an instant, we become cognizant of the close proximity of our two bodies, our laughter fading. Tits smashed to my chest, thighs clutching my hips, arms clasped around my neck, she’s wrapped around me like a koala clinging to a tree branch.
My palms press flat to her back as I resist the urge for them to explore. Green desire-filled eyes framed with dark, wet, spiked lashes stare into mine. I’m frozen in place, trapped between my desire to connect our lips and my conscience telling me to break away. Juliet shifts her weight, and her taut nipples sear into my chest through the wet triangles of her top. Her legs clutch my hips tighter, pressing her pussy to my hard cock.
Clenching my teeth, I tell the voice screaming in my head to shut up as it urges me to kiss her. Though my will has never been challenged so much before, I somehow resist the temptation she presents. Gripping under her arms, I break our connection and set her down on her feet, a safe distance between us.
Raking a hand through my wet hair, I nervously struggle for what to say before settling on, “I’m sorry.” She’s been through so much already. She doesn’t need me adding to it.
“Emmett.” She shakes her head, stepping forward.
“No,” I shout. “Don’t. I’m gonna go now.” I nod my head, repeating, “Yeah, I’m gonna go now,” as if I’m convincing myself I’m doing the right thing.
“What if I don’t want you to?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“Says who?”
My conscience. “Me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you in any way.” Shoulders dropping, she turns around, wading through the water to the stairs. “Thank you for your help,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Juliet, wait.” Hoisting myself out the side of the pool, I leave a trail of water behind me on the patio as I hurry her way. I place a hand on her arm, my thumb caressing her damp skin. “You have nothing to apologize for. I can’t think of anything I want more than to know what your lips taste like.”
“I want that too.”
“You’ve been through so much. I’m not sure we should cross that line.”
“Waiting longer isn’t going to change my past, Emmett.”
“I know that. I want you to think about this and make sure you’re ready for what will happen if we kiss.”
“What do you think will happen?”
“I think you’ll be my ruin.”
“How so?”
“You’ll be the woman who no one else will ever measure up to.”
“You flatter me. There’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“You’re right about that.” I nod slowly. Should I step forward and slam our mouths together, consequences be damned? Or should I press pause and give us both time to make sure we’re ready for what’s to come?
“You never had that sandwich I promised.” Juliet points out, making the decision for me.
I smile, the thick tension between us easing.
“Here, I made you some sandwiches,” Mrs. Thatcher reaches across the table to set the plate down in front of me. My eyes land on the tiny red bikini top barely covering her tits. She moves closer until she’s behind my chair, the scent of her shampoo and chlorine teasing my nose. “I thought you might want to wash it down with an ice-cold beer. It will cool you off from all this heat.” She leans forward, the front of her body making contact with my back as she places the green bottle down on the glass top. The touch is brief, and I imagine the sensation of her taut nipples grazing my skin.
“Thank you, Mrs. Thatcher,” I reply with a raspy husk, my throat unusually dry. Grabbing the bottle, I take a deep pull and then another until half the liquid is gone.
“Emmett, I told you to call me Juliet. And this will be our little secret. You look old enough to drink.” Her hand caresses from the nape of my neck to the top of my head in one smooth motion. “Your hair is so thick and soft.” She combs her fingers through my dark strands. Her nails scrape my scalp, sending a shiver down my spine and blood rushing to my cock. Fuck. I can’t react to her like this. Nothing can happen between us. At least not yet.
Pulling out the chair next to me, she sinks onto the seat and observes as I continue to eat the sandwiches. “I love a man with a healthy appetite.” She winks.
“Would you like some?” I offer.
“Sure, I’ll take a bite of whatever you’re willing to give me.”
Is she talking about the sandwich?
“You can have as much as you’d like,” I reply, not sure what to say. I’m an eighteen-year-old boy, not used to dealing with grown women speaking in possible code.
I move to place the sandwich down on my plate, but Juliet catches my wrist and steers my hand to her mouth. I watch, transfixed, as she sinks her teeth into the turkey and cheese on rye. She moans as she draws back, and the carnal sound has me imagining she’s moaning around my cock. Next, she directs the sandwich to my mouth. I bite around the same area she did.
Juliet smiles and nods. “Good boy.”
I’m not sure why, but hearing her say those two words has my dick responding. This makes no sense—I’m not a boy—I’m a man. But when it comes to Juliet, I want to please her.
She picks up my beer, staring over the top as she raises the bottle. I watch in fascination as her tongue slinks out and licks her lips just before they close around the same spot I drank from. As the glass leaves her mouth, her tongue circles the edge, and I imagine her licking the head of my cock.
Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I capture Juliet’s hand, fingers closing on top of hers, directing the beer to my mouth. When my lips close around the rim, I pretend we’re sharing a kiss. I imagine her taste as I swallow down the remainder. Together, we place the empty bottle on the table, and my hand is slow to end the contact with hers.
She leans in closer and places her palm on my bare leg, just above my knee. “Are you a virgin, Emmett?”
Wait. “What?”
“Are you a virgin? It’s okay if you are.” Her palm leisurely rubs my thigh, creeping under the edge of my shorts. “I’m a good teacher.”
“N-no, I’m not.”
“Oh, a boy with experience, huh?”
“Yes, and I’m not a boy.” My words come out stronger now that I’m beyond the initial shock of her question.
“But you can be my boy toy.” Her fingernails drag along the bare skin of my thigh, and I gasp. The slight sting combined with her words has my cock painfully hard. She notices. There’s no way for her to miss the tented material.