A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
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The spot under the bikini strap.

The lower back.

Jackson reaches around my front, undoes the button of my shorts, and rolls them down my hips.

My body hums from the friction. From the tease. From the touch.

My nerves fade into desire.

My breaths run together.

My world because this perfect blend of his touch and my response.

He rubs lotion into the space above my bikini bottoms. Above my ass, then over my hips, then the spot right at my pelvis.

He pulls my body into his, so he's straddling me from behind, so I can feel his hard cock against my flesh, and he keeps those same slow, gentle motions as he works his way up my stomach.

He doesn't say a word. He just holds my body against his, holds my ass against his cock, as if there's really no need to discuss the situation.

As if he can wait there, hard and wanting, forever.

Maybe he can.

His touch stays endlessly patient as he works his way down my font body.

My shoulders.

Neck.

Collarbones.

Cleavage.

Then, when everything that isn't covered by fabric is covered by sunscreen, he squeezes lotion onto his fingers and slips his hand into my bikini top.

Relief floods my body. I need his touch here. I need it everywhere, but I really need it here.

My back arches. My thighs shake. My head falls into the crook of his neck.

I bite my lip so I won't moan. So I won't alert the entire pool to how much I want him.

But it's hard.

I really fucking want him.

He rubs lotion into my breast with those same slow, gentle movements. Then he applies another squirt of lotion, and he does the same with my other breast.

My eyes go to the men in the back. One of them is watching with interest. As if he wants to be the one spreading lotion. As if he wants to join us.

How would it feel to invite someone to watch? To demand someone watch?

There is a thrill to this. My entire body is humming.

I lean back, letting myself into Jackson.

He reclines into the chair.

We're a normal couple, lounging in a normal chair, except for the whole topless pool thing.

I rest my head on his chest.

He presses his lips to my ear and brings his hands to my hips. He keeps them there, on the outside of my shorts.

He traces the waistband with his left hand. Back and forth. Again and again. Down the undone button, to the seam of the shorts, to inches from where I need him.

I want to take him; I really do.

But this isn't the place. This is a tease.

Only a perfect, beautiful, horrible tease.

I let my eyes move around the space. A topless couple flirts. Two topless women kiss all for their own benefit, but the guys in the corner sure enjoy watching.

European tourists roll their eyes. Americans and their silly obsession with nudity.

The kissing women break and dive into the pool and swim around each other.

The same guy looks to me again.

This time, Jackson follows my gaze. He brings his lips to my ear. "Do you want him to see?"

I nod into his chest.

"Then show him." He traces the strap of my bikini top to the knot behind my neck. "Show me."

"Help me." I breathe.

He tugs at the knot just hard enough to undo it.

The fabric falls off my chest.

The guy's eyes go wide. Someone else looks my way. A couple who's enjoying each other. Another topless woman.

I shift enough to undo the other tie, and I drop the bikini top on the floor.

It's not a big deal. I'm topless at a topless pool. It's all legal and appropriate and totally inappropriate and hot as fuck.

No. It is a big deal. I'm following an illicit desire. I'm sharing it with Jackson. I'm letting him help me.

This isn't what I meant by let's practice this whole marriage thing, but it's an exercise in trust and vulnerability all the same.

Fuck. Listen to me. An exercise in trust and vulnerability. My friend Beth was right when she said I can't study sex this way. Have you listened to researchers and therapists? They can take the hottest thing in the world and make it sound clinical.

I'm not here as a researcher.

I'm not experimenting for the sake of science.

Only to feed my own curiosity. Only to stoke the flames of my desire.

I close my eyes and let my body sink into Jackson's. He pulls me a little closer.

My back melts into his chest. All my bare skin against his. Our bodies pressed together for anyone to see. For everyone to see.

My eyes blink open.

My gaze moves around the space. People are looking our way, but they aren't watching the way they would in a sex club, with wide-eyed wonder.

They steal glances the way people do at ordinary pools and beaches. Ones where breast coverings are mandatory.


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