It was supposed to be a win-win situation—a safe environment in which to raise a son for single mom Vicky, housekeeping and childcare for widowed Jack. Neither one wants or expects anything more. Life, however, has more in store than either one imagines.
Feeling naked despite the tasteful bikini she bought on her extravagant shopping expedition, Vicky wrapped herself in a large towel. Swathed in terry from armpits to ankles, she lay back on the cushioned chaise as the sound of children splashing and giggling lulled her into a gentle half-sleep.
Serene in the pleasure of the moment, she lost all track of time, stirring only when plump beads of moisture, trapped between her breasts, ripened and burst. Welcoming release from her self-imposed steam bath, she unknotted her towel and threw it open like the pages of a book. Then she raised her knees, allowing air to circulate around her legs.
“You look hot,” Jack remarked from the pool.
Her eyes flew open. How long had he been watching her? “It is getting a bit warm out here,” she said. “Maybe I’ll sit on the edge and cool off a little.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, backstroking to the far end of the pool.
The children finally grew tired and climbed out one by one to play poolside. With the pool all to himself, Jack began swimming laps. And though she tried not to, Vicky couldn’t keep her eyes off his lithe body.
Despite his sedentary job, Jack appeared remarkably healthy and fit, conditioned, she knew, by regular racquetball sessions with Russ, also well toned, and the lecherous George, the battle of the bulge’s most recent casualty.
After a thorough workout, he drifted toward her. Without warning, he grabbed her dangling leg. Vicky immediately stiffened. He’d never intentionally touched her before.
“Come on in,” he said, gripping her by the ankle. “The kids are playing nicely for a change.”
He flattened her foot against his chest, and the tactile sensation of his skin against the delicate pad of her foot made her toes curl. Their eyes locked, awareness flickered, and flesh upon flesh, they remained so, unmoving but definitely not unmoved.
In an attempt to cool her body and clear her brain, she yanked her foot away and slid into the water. Then, in a game as old as time, she dove under, making it all the way to the deep end before he caught up to her. She surfaced and he remained submerged, observing her at close range. When she attempted to swim away, he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, their legs scissoring in an erotic, underwater ballet.
Excited but unsettled by the strange, new dimensions of their water play, Vicky broke free and swam for the steps. Everything was happening too quickly. She needed time to think. She needed to keep her wits about her before she ended up making a fool of herself. She told herself there was nothing behind Jack’s sudden interest in her. He didn’t want her; he wanted her body, perfectly understandable given the circumstances. Simply put, she was handy.
But Jack wouldn’t let her leave, pursuing her to the shallow end of the pool. There, he trapped her in the corner, closed his hands around her waist, and lifted her up and out of the water, his chest full against her thighs, his mouth aligned with her belly.
Vicky gasped at the intimacy of their position. She felt his tongue swirl around her navel, and her breath caught in her throat, her fingers dug into his shoulders. Time suddenly stood still, and she wondered how the moment would end. Seconds later, he loosened his fingers, and she slid down his body in a long, slow, sensual caress. By the time her feet touched bottom, she was on the verge of something wonderful.
Then a child howled, yanking them apart as cleanly as a bucket of ice water. Embarrassed by her reaction to him, Vicky scrambled from the pool and tended to the quarrelsome children, her demeanor automatically switching gears from a state of intense arousal to that of conscientious caregiver.
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Authors website: http://www.joycedebacco.com