He laughs, leaning toward me. 揑抎 have expected nothing less.?He kisses me then, his lips soft and certain on mine, as if to say, 搃t抯 okay that you抮e like this, it抯 okay that you抮e petty, that you抮e vicious in court, that you push people away. I like you anyhow.?
He pulls back slowly, reluctantly, and helps me to my feet. I kind of wish we were staying. I wish he抎 kissed me a little longer.
揑f it weren抰 for the turrets,?I suggest, 搕his would be a pretty nice place.?
揑t抯 okay.?He grins. 揘ot as amazing as your mom抯 though, obviously, with that shelf of doom hanging over her cats.?
I don抰 even think匢 push him. He isn抰 expecting it, and I wasn抰 entirely expecting him to lose his balance梙oping, yes, but not expecting梐nd he goes right into the deep end. My laughter echoes over the pool deck, and I have not a moment抯 guilt until his head emerges卆nd he抯 flailing.
揋emma,?he gasps, 揑 can抰 swim.?
揙h my God, are you serious??I demand, suddenly panicked. Who the fuck doesn抰 know how to swim in this day and age? His head goes under again, his hands above the water. It takes me one full second to unfreeze and jump wildly into the pool, where梩he very moment my head breaks the surface梙e starts laughing. He抯 treading water with a big fucking grin on his face.
Of course, he knew how to swim.
揧ou asshole!?I shout. 揑 thought you were drowning! Now I抦 soaking wet.?
He gives me a lopsided grin. 揑s this a bad time to point out that you pushed me in the pool first??
揧ou scared the shit out of me, though!?I cry, making my way to the edge. 揑t抯 entirely different.?
揑 completed an open water one-mile swim last year. I thought you knew.?
揑 did,?I fume. Everyone in the office couldn抰 stop talking about Ben抯 triathlon, Ben抯 triathlon, like he抎 won the Nobel Peace Prize. 揑 just panicked and forgot.?
He pulls me against him, wrapping his arms around me. 揑t抯 cute you were panicked on my behalf.?
揑 was only panicking about my potential culpability if you died.?My arms go around his shoulders, letting him keep us both afloat.
He pushes my skirt up and pulls me so my legs are wrapped around his waist.
揑抦 not going to let you turn this bullshit into an excuse to have sex in your friend抯 pool,?I inform him.
揙bviously not,?he says, slipping his hand between my legs. 揃ut I bet you let me get awfully close.?
His thumb brushes back and forth outside my panties, the lightest, most delicate touch, strumming every nerve. I reach between us and palm him through his pants. He抯 so thick, so hard匨y eyes fall closed. I will absolutely have sex in this pool.
He lifts me onto the edge before pushing me backward.
His mouth finds mine as he lowers himself on top of me. The adrenaline from only moments ago has shifted into something else, something desperate and reckless. His mouth descends to one tight nipple, and he sucks on it hard through the sheer fabric of my blouse. I wrap my legs around him until his erection is positioned exactly where I want it. If we could just get rid of all these fucking clothes it would take him two seconds to push inside me.
I reach for his belt, but he stays my hand. 揑nvite me over,?he groans against my mouth.
揑t抯 late,?I reply. 揥e could be undressed in five seconds right here.?
His lids close tight for a moment, and when they open, I see resignation there. 揧ou know what I want,?he says, lifting himself off me. 揂nd I抦 still going to fucking wait.?
But卋ut単oddammit.
He reaches out a hand to help me up and I accept it reluctantly. Water pours from our clothes, from my hair. My mascara is undoubtedly proving to be less waterproof than promised. I want to blame him for how irritated I am right now, but I抦 not sure I can.
We gather our things and walk through the side gate to his car, soaking wet. He drives me back to the parking garage and leans over to kiss me once we arrive.
揑抣l see you Monday,?he says as I climb out.
I assumed he抎 be in this weekend. The fact that he won抰 makes me wish I抎 given him a different answer in the pool. Maybe inviting him over once wouldn抰 have been the end of the world.
26
I wake thinking about Ben.
I think about him as I dress, as I drive, as I sit at my desk attempting to work.
Everything reminds me of sex: the seat beneath me, the breeze that gusts as I walk down the street, a male voice in the hallway.
I send emails without attachments, forget my own phone number at the grocery store. I call my mom Sunday and call her again an hour later, having completely forgotten we spoke. I抦 halfway to my car Monday morning before I realize I抦 wearing two different shoes. If Ben抯 trying to secure the partnership for Craig by making me stupid with lust, he抯 doing an excellent job.