Fake Marriage Box Set

I’m on the beach. Doing the same. Not good.

Are you wearing a bikini? Topless? He responded immediately. Another heat wave washed over me when I read his daring words.

New bikini.

I decided to do something very bold and took a picture of my body stretched out on the blanket. My head wasn’t in the shot. If anyone saw the picture, I could deny it was me. I sent it before I had a chance to change my mind.

I waited for his response. Maybe I had crossed the line?

You’re fucking killing me, he wrote back.

I smiled. I loved the idea that I was getting under his skin as much as he was under mine.

Before I got the chance to respond, he texted again.

I wish I was there to see that with my own eyes. And hands.

Me too.

I’m going to need a cold sho

wer.

Me too.

We continued texting back and forth, flirting and upping the danger on our relationship. It was fun and exciting. We both knew it could never go beyond a text conversation. It was too risky. Maria had come back up to check on me several times.

“I thought you were relaxing?” she asked when she caught me staring at my phone.

“I am,” I said, with a cheesy grin.

She didn’t believe me. “Put that thing on silent. I want to enjoy the sound of the ocean and the birds. Not your phone going off every thirty seconds. Who are you texting?”

I didn’t answer.

“Ian?” she asked with a knowing smile.

I shrugged. “I’ll never tell.”

“Good. Have fun,” she said before settling in and closing her eyes.

I decided to take a walk along the beach, get my feet wet and cool down. It was a version of a cold shower.

Once I was sufficiently chilled, I plopped back down and laid on my stomach. If only I could successfully take a picture from this angle, I grinned. I think Ian would appreciate it. I debated asking Maria to do it for me.

“Hey, take a picture for me, please?” I ask.

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow, girl. You are crossing all kinds of lines.”

She jumped up, smoothed out the blanket and directed me on how to pose.

“I think you have too much experience with this,” I said.

She laughed. “You have no idea. If my phone is ever hacked, the hacker is going to get quite a show. Now, turn your face the other way. No head shots. That is the first rule when sending photos of this nature.”

“There are rules?” I mumbled.

“Duh. Always plan on your picture being shared. Well, in your case, I seriously doubt the professor is going to forward it to his friends, but, plausible deniability,” she explained.