Don’t let that sink in. Don’t let it become more.
“I’m happy that you feel that way.”
Maren kisses my cheek. “Let’s get lunch, and then”—her voice grows husky—“I can thank you in other ways.”
I throw the golf cart into drive and head to the bar, looking forward to the “other ways” she has in mind.
“Are you all right?” Maren asks as she hands me a glass of ginger ale.
“I’m fine. I think it was the food.”
She chuckles. “You barely ate.”
I was incredibly impatient at lunch. I had maybe a bite or two of my food and three beers, but when we got back and I was ready for naked Maren time, my stomach revolted. I ended up taking a long nap and waking up around dinner time, feeling a hundred percent better. However, she’s being a mother hen and won’t let me off the couch until she’s convinced I’m fine.
“I ate a little.”
She hands me a cracker. “Not enough to soak up the beer. Now, just rest, and we’ll find something else to do tonight.”
“I’d like to be doing you.”
“I would like that too, but . . .”
“But?”
“You’re sick.”
I roll my eyes. “I am not sick. I got sick, which isn’t the same. I’m perfectly fine now.”
I grab her, pulling her to my chest. “Oliver!”
“See, sick men can’t do that.”
“I think men who want sex can move mountains.”
She’s not wrong.
“How about we go relax in the hot tub?” Maren in a bathing suit—or even naked—would be a good evening.
“Are you sure your stomach is fine?” she asks.
“Maren, I’m a grown ass man. I got sick a few times, napped it off, and I’m good. It was probably food poisoning or something stupid.”
“Okay. If you’re fine, then we’ll do that. I’ll go turn it on while you get changed.”
Since we’re at the very end of the season, everything is quiet. It’s almost like being on a private beach. I grab my bathing suit, opt against it, and wrap myself in a towel. As I’m heading down the stairs, Maren ducks into one of the five bathrooms.
“I’ll meet you down there after I get changed.”
“Okay. Feel free to come down naked,” I offer.
When I get outside, I look around, making sure none of the neighbors can see this area. Since the house is on stilts, the hot tub is under the house and has a privacy wall on three sides. The only way someone could see us is if they were on the beach or standing on the dunes. This will be perfect.
I sink into the hot water, feeling the stress melt away, and leaning my head back, I close my eyes, and relax. It’s been a crazy few months, and these last two weeks have been fucking insane. I never thought I would pretend to marry someone only to end up actually married to the girl who flipped my life around.
But here I am, falling for my wife even though I want no part of it.
I don’t want to like her. I don’t want to see how beautiful, smart, and loving she is, but then she does stuff like take care of me while I’m sick or go out of her way to make her father happy, and I can’t help it.
There are no answers here. Maren and I won’t be anything, and trying to think otherwise is foolish. I’ve done that before, and I will not go down that road again. So, I’ll allow myself to lust after her, have as much sex as possible, and then go back to my simple life.
“Well, don’t you look comfortable?” Maren’s voice is beside me, her hand sliding against my arm.
Instantly, I’m hard.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
“I’m something, all right, but comfortable isn’t the case any longer.”
She presses to my side, the water barely covering her breasts. Yes, she’s naked. “I’m sorry to hear that. What can I do to make it better?”
I love how playful she is.
“How about you come a little closer.”
“Like this?”
She scoots a little closer, but her hand wraps around my cock.
“That is a good start.”
“I agree.” Her hand moves up and down slowly.
“I thought you were worried I was sick.”
“I thought you said you were a grown man and were fine?”
I am more than fine. I’m on fire and need her more than ever. “I’m not sick.”
“Good.” Her voice is soft. “I want you, Oliver.”
“I want you.”
“However,” she says coyly. “We’re not having sex.”
Well, that’s not going to work for me. “And why not?”
“Because whether you’re grown or not, you were sick, and as your wife, whether it’s real or not, it’s my job to care for you.”
I grip her waist, hauling her on top of me so her legs straddle my hips. “I think it’s also my job to do the same.” I cup her breasts.
Maren’s eyes flutter, and a soft moan escapes her lips as I rub my thumbs over her nipples. She shudders as her fingers wrap around my wrists.
“No, not this time.” She shifts my arms so they are resting along the back of the tub. “Stay that way.”
I’m not usually one who likes not to have control during sex, but the way she’s looking at me—a little hesitant, a little hopeful—causes me to nod. I’ll see where she wants this to go. All roads lead to happiness with the way she’s licking her plump lips.
Maren grins. “Don’t move.”
“Or what?”
“Or I stop.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promise. My fingers grip the sides so I have something to hold on to. I have a feeling this is going to be equal parts heaven and hell.
She leans in, pressing her lips to mine for a brief kiss. “Good, I plan to do mine.” Her fingers wrap around my cock again as she pumps in a steady rhythm. “I want you to rest and let me do all the work.”
“I won’t move.” She keeps going, pumping me harder, faster as her lips move down my neck. “I want to see you.”
“See me?”
“Lift up so I can stare at your perfect breasts.” Maren does as I ask, and I can’t stop the small smile that forms because she gave me back the control of the situation without realizing it. I want to see if she’ll give me more. “Let me kiss them.”
Her eyes widen a little, and she sinks back down. “No.”
“You said you wanted to take care of me, this is what I need.”
“I don’t think so.”
I let go of the back of the tub, and her hand releases instantly. “Maren . . .”
“Don’t. Move.”
As soon as I’m positioned again, she resumes jerking me off.
“I keep waiting for this yearning to stop, but the longer I’m around you, the more I want you,” she confesses. “You make me feel beautiful, powerful, and cherished.”
“You are those things,” I say, and my grip tightens. This feels so fucking good. “You’re more than that too.”
“Kiss me,” Maren commands.