His arms were pushed up on the stone ledge as he swam to it. "Then you need to modify your lovely behind. It's boiling outside, and the water feels wonderful

It came across as a command. The thought of saying "no" had me bite my bottom lip.

I, however, was a dismal failure. I retreated back inside the home to delay things. I slogged my way past Dr. Johnson's massive media room and into the bedroom he converted into a gym. The only other rooms on the ground floor were the bathroom and the bedroom David used when he was home from college. A lot of his clothing were strewn over the place, but he was able to quickly change into something else because of this.

To call this space a "home gym" would be overstating its purpose. There was a treadmill as well as a multi-gym. I sighed as I tossed my stuff on David's college futon sofa, which had been moved to one corner.

As I was getting dressed, I thought about my objective. Unfortunately, my dissatisfaction with my lover did not translate into a desire to harm him. I wanted to end things with him as gently as possible for both of us.

Eventually, I gathered the strength to drag myself back outside, where I piled my clothing on the sofa and grabbed a beach towel from the hall closet.

He looked at me and blinked once. Then, his vision blurred as he surveyed my figure in a skimpy black string bikini. The question, "Is that fresh," was posed.

A dryness in my mouth developed. What was I thinking when I packed my swimsuit? I wasn't there at all. I'd just thrown anything I could get my hands on into my luggage and hoped for the best. It was a mistake to dress for the beach in a bikini.

To which she replied, "It was on sale at Target," which I crooned.

The passion in his eyes was palpable as he leaned over the edge. "That's what I call good!" He drew nearer to me and the shallow end of the pool by bringing his hands together and swirling them under the surface. Come on in.

David's motivations were blatantly transparent. He was in the mood to fuck. Do you think that was the only reason he invited me over? As I threw the towel onto the lounge chair, I coiled my dark brown hair into a bun. A wet one would take long to dry, and I may have to escape if things became too intense.

At the last minute, I had the courage to go to the pool's entrance steps and take the plunge. Before I knew it, his chilly, wet arms were around my torso, and he was taking me deep into the middle of the pool.

I resisted his grasp and muttered, "Wait," trying to seem nonchalant. Getting in on my own terms was important to me, and I didn't want him hovering around. I needed some space to accomplish what I had to do.

It felt like the chasm between us widened with each encounter, and David continued to disregard my protests, no matter how strong they were. His lips planted themselves passionately on the side of my neck. It used to be the one thing that would constantly get under my skin, but now that our relationship has evolved, I find that I no longer find that action particularly attractive.

David, I muttered, releasing myself from his grip.

He swiveled around to stare at the soaring arched windows at the house's rear, then straight at me. "What? I was wondering whether you were concerned about my dad. What we do is of no concern to him.

Oh, God. My body shivered, but I doubted my partner could tell since I was submerged for the most part.

My first weekend back at home after university, I foolishly sought to win David back to me using the only means available to me at the time: sex. We went skinny diving in the middle of the day since the backyard was hidden by trees and no one could see us from the street. No one was there to see him put me down on the lounger's plush cushion, kneel between my legs, and shove within me.

Unfortunately, I had let him fuck me while I thought no one was looking. When David's speed picked up, I turned my head and saw a person standing by the window.

As soon as our eyes met, DR.JONSON was no longer visible, and David, caught up in the moment, misunderstood my cry of surprise for one of delight. Not only did I not inform Dr. Johnson about my experience, but he also said nothing. No, and I doubt he'd tell his kid. He was quite good at acting like nothing had transpired.

How long, however, had he been staring out the window?

When I was writhing about on the deck chair, how much of my bare body did he see? Why didn't I feel uneasy? Disgust? Not me! I just felt weird and tense, like I'd been placed under a heat lamp for too long. Thinking about it made my skin feel heated and tight.

I said, "I just got in the water; give me a second." to buy myself some more time.

David gave me an expression of helplessness. "Sorry." Despite the fact that his tone indicated otherwise, he seemed to be serious. I saw a bikini on you. When will I learn to control myself?

I would have considered his remark endearing and humorous six months ago. To be honest, I couldn't stand it today.

To my right, he floated lazily in the water, leaning back so that the water reflected in his brown eyes, making them appear even darker and more intense. When we initially began dating, he was adorable, but he'd since matured and put on weight, making him seem more like a man. He inherited his good looks from his daddy. David's hair, which was shorter on the sides and longer on top, was also lighter in color than his father's.

As I watched him swim blissfully, my gut cramped with fear. He had no clue I was going to reveal something shocking.

Hello, I said, my voice beginning to crack. "Let's have a chat."

The sliding patio door made a loud noise, catching our attention. Dr. Johnson went outdoors, holding a pitcher and two disposable cups.

David beamed and questioned his father, "What's that?" in a playful tone, as if it were a joke I hadn't gotten.

Dr. Johnson responded swiftly, "Fresh orange juicy." A little too rapidly.

In this case, David chuckled. Perhaps I should walk over and inform her that you find orange to be a particularly unpleasant flavor. Those cookies would be easy enough for her to bake again. The brownies, perhaps? The acclaim they received was well-deserved.

My brow furrowed in bewilderment. Swimming beside me, David encircled me with his arms.

Our next-door neighbor just went through a divorce and is now romantically interested in my father. To this day, she has been attempting to woo him with sweet treats. Constriction set in as he tightened his grip. "Hey. Why have you stopped making baked goods for me to enjoy?

It's probably because I'm so busy and we seldom get to hang together. My intended tone wasn't as sharp as it came out.

Dr. Johnson carried the pitcher and glasses over to the glass table situated beneath the umbrella. In any case, take it easy and have fun.

Do you believe she threw a roofie? Even if it was mentioned in jest, Dr.suspicions Jonson's about the pitcher were piqued by his son's remark.

I think it's safe to go back in there," he replied.

What a ringing recommendation," David said jokingly.

His hands started to fiddle with the cords around my hips while we were submerged. I tried to move away from him, but he didn't understand, and my annoyance level quickly rose to a boiling point.

I came over here not to have sexual relations with you.

He gave me a befuddled expression. Which begs the question, "Then why did you?"

What the heck.

The remainder of my heart was shattered by his one inquiry. He couldn't fathom why I'd be interested in being here for any other purpose. After that, he no longer considered me a buddy but just a convenient object for rubbing his dick against. Truth hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. My tone became weak. David, I've reached my breaking point. "That was a waste of time; now it's finished."

"What?" His shoulders jerked and he turned into a block of wood. However, he obviously heard me, as shown by his response.

A new you has emerged. Now that time has passed, we've changed.

His face froze in a permanent look of astonishment. The only sound was the soft slap of water against the pool's edge, and the tension was palpable. Until the second time the sliding patio door bell chimed.

No, he barked at his dad.

Dr.productivity Jonson's was unaffected by this setback. There was a cordless phone in his hand. It's the boss calling. According to him, you're not picking up your phone.

David swam to the edge of the pool and whispered, "Fuck." "My power supply gave out." He extended a hand and snatched the phone from the operator. "Hello?"

He stopped to hear the other side, his face crunching up in an irritated expression.

In other words, I won't be in today. I have till Wednesday off.

My eyes met Dr. Johnson's, and the realization seemed to strike both of us simultaneously. This day was Wednesday.

David screamed "shit" into the phone and hurried for the stairs. Indeed, of course. I really apologize. It will take me around fifteen minutes to get there.

He quickly climbed out of the pool, leaving the phone on the seat cushion, and reached for the towel lying nearby. Given that he failed to provide a towel, I offered him mine.

Scrubbing the water from his body, he murmured, "I have go." Maybe he was talking to his dad and I didn't get it. I've already been running behind schedule.

David saw Dr. Johnson's displeasure, shown by the way he crossed his arms over his large chest.

He responded, "Yeah, I know," before wrapping the towel around his hips and dashing out the patio door. I made a boo-boo. Sorry."

Another mystery unsolved: who these apologies was meant for. When my blood started to boil, I was relieved to be in the refreshing water. He hadn't considered sticking around to chat. Without even a farewell, he avoided any verbal contact with me. Physically and emotionally, I was left to float as he disappeared inside the home.

I lost my cool out of sheer exasperation. I can't believe he didn't realize it was Wednesday.

He'd messed up for the summer, but he had to get things done. David behaved as if having spending money for his approaching sophomore year was a matter of life and death, despite the fact that he knew that waiting tables wasn't.

Dr. Johnson let out a deep sigh. I'm very sad for his loss. You may remain as long as you like.

Maybe not... "Thanks."

There was a pause in his actions. Also, "we have homemade lemonade."

I responded, "I see what you're up to." "I know you want to dump it on me," he said.

With a grin and a nod that suggested he knew he was in trouble, he seemed to admit his guilt. I feel terrible letting all this out. Assuming your taste runs toward lemons, I can assure you it will be delicious and safe from any illegal drugs.

I forced a grin and looked into his eyes. We looked at one other for what seemed like forever. It took that long for the laughter to stop and something else to take its place. His eerily identical gaze from before had my heart racing.

How bizarre! I looked down at the ocean and blinked fast at the waves. This may mean I wasn't hallucinating.

Does it sound good? He asked a question in a low voice that sounded shaky, and it caught me off guard.

Specifically, what was he providing? "Some?"

"Lemonade."

Right. I was completely wrong to assume anything. "Oh. Sure."

While he was filling a cup from the pitcher, my attention was pulled to his hands. In addition to their stunning appearance, they also had considerable skill and economic value. With that, how many peoples' lives had he managed to save?

We heard the garage door open, vehicle tires peeling out, and car rolling backwards down the driveway on the other side of the house.

Here you go," he replied, handing me the cup from his crouch at the pool's edge.

"Appreciate it." First, I sampled it to see how he'd do with my opinion. To express my disapproval, I pursed my lips. "Ugh. It's okay to let it all out. To put it bluntly, it's overly sour.

I put the cup down on the pool deck and looked down at the stairs. As much as I wanted to, I had to go. As Dr.Jonson gathered the cups and pitcher, I climbed out of the pool.

He stopped when he saw me at the railing with my arms folded. The air was warm, but the wind made it seem cold. After becoming completely soaked, I refused to go back inside the home to change until the drips had ceased.

You didn't bring a towel out, he gently questioned.

I said, "No." Yes, and David stole mine in the process.

He took the disgusting lemonade inside with him as he shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. Thirty seconds later, he returned and handed me a folded towel.

I just said, "Thank you." If I went in there, I would have dripped all over your carpet.

"Since you can consider others' needs before your own."

It was obviously a jab at David, but I had no idea how to respond. I pushed my lips together, wrapped myself in the towel, and tried to relax.

Dr. Johnson didn't appear too frustrated; he seemed to be trying to say something more but was restraining himself. There was dismay in his dark eyes.

He hovered uncomfortably and said, "Can I get you anything else?" It was almost as though he was hoping I'd strike up a chat. I tried to remember something, but came up empty.

I managed to mutter, "I'm good."

In other words, "Okay. Let's go inside, shall we?

Because of how quickly he turned and retreated inside the home, he didn't catch my gaping mouth as it opened. The guy had surgical training. He exuded assurance and never looked rattled by tense situations. David's father was worried when he wrecked his vehicle two years ago, but he kept his calm through it all.

Observing Dr.uncertainty, Jonson's what do you make of it? Honestly, that gave me the willies.

My hair was down, my phone was in hand, and I was shivering as I made my way back inside to the warmth of my abode. The huge television was on and the level was so low I could hardly hear the news program that was playing on it.

Dr. Johnson didn't seem to be paying attention.

He slung his arm over the back of the wide sectional sofa and stared vacantly at the coffee table in front of him. The way his torso was angled and the snugness of his t-shirt highlighted his muscular physique. His pants clung to his muscular legs as I stood in the doorway, staring at him oddly as my toes dug into the soft carpet.

I really wanted to speak to him but knew that I shouldn't. It was he who fathered David. I mean, I couldn't exactly go to him for guidance on what I should do right now, could I? I wrapped the towel around my waist even more tightly and went into the guest room to change.

After closing the door, I walked slowly as my disappointment weighed on me. I groaned as I set down my phone next to my pile of laundry. I didn't know what to do. Let David call me, please. The deed was technically completed. I told him it was finished.

Cracking sounds of knuckles hitting wood. "Jessica?"

My heart rate increased and I became immobile. "Yeah?"

"I.. need to make a comment," From behind the closed door, Dr. Johnson's voice could be heard. 'May I come in?'

I gripped the edge of my towel with all my might. Yet though he had seen me in my swimsuit only a minute before, that had been by the pool, and I hadn't even begun the process of changing. I knew it was silly, but as I set foot inside the home, I immediately felt more vulnerable. This idea was immediately dismissed by me. "Yeah."