Counterfeit Love

Her warm fingers pressed to my jaw, water dripping down my neck and chest.

She took a slow, deep breath, then closed the distance between us, hesitating for one short moment before her lips pressed to mine.

The touch was soft and uncertain, testing the waters, but even so, I felt a bolt of electricity from the contact shoot outward through my body, my stomach doing this weird tightening thing that was completely unfamiliar to me.

I could feel my hand squeezing hers, but tried to keep my body as still as possible, pliant, letting her take the lead.

Emboldening, she pressed her lips pressed harder, crushing into mine, inviting a reaction.

And that?

I could give her whole-fucking-heartedly.

It was unexpectedly difficult to keep my hands down, to let her completely take the lead.

Deepening.

Getting more demanding.

The tip of her tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, moving inside to claim mine.

A low, whimpering noise escaped her just a second before she yanked suddenly back, springing backward, slamming down, then letting out a yelp.

"You okay?" I asked as her face twisted up in pain.

"I misjudged the distance and caught the edge," she admitted, hand slipping under the water to rub her ass.

"Chris," I said, trying to get her gaze to lift. "Love, look at me," I demanded.

She took a deep breath, lifting her head. "Are you alright?" I asked again, tone a little more pointed.

"I, ah, I don't know," she admitted, reaching for the drink she'd only taken a few sips out of.

"It doesn't have to be a big deal," I told her, even if a part of me was hollering that there was something different about this, that it was a big deal.

"I don't want to make any decisions about what it is or what it isn't tonight," she told me, finishing her drink.

You had to respect that, didn't you?

"Okay."

"I know that's weird."

"It's not weird. It's smart. Most people make decisions without thinking. I'm guilty of that. Some time to think might actually be good for me. Or it might make my brain overheat..."

"Well, then maybe you can hold off doing any thinking until tomorrow night. I need you functioning tomorrow," she teased, giving me a soft smile.

"Well, I've gone this long without thinking. Figure I can go another day," I told her.

She was laughing at me as she climbed out of the hot tub, giving me--and my poor cock--a great view of her ass as she went before she wrapped herself in one of the towels I had brought out earlier.

"You should shower before bed," she told me, sitting down on a deck chair to squeeze the excess water out of her tank and panties.

"Why?" I asked, in no fucking condition to get out of the hot tub with my cock straining against my underwear.

"The chemicals in the hot tub. You'll be dry and itchy if you don't."

"Did you research hot tubs since we last talked about it?"

"Well," she said, shaking her head at herself, "you know me," she said, standing.

I was definitely starting to know her.

And, what's more, I was really starting to like her.

New for me.

Luckily, I was someone who liked new things, different roads to travel down.

And building something with Chris sounded like a fun new adventure.

"Goodnight, Finch," she called in that soft voice again, giving me what was almost a shy smile as she stood in the doorway.

"Goodnight, love," I said, watching as her eyes brightened before she ducked her head and turned away.

Oh, yeah.

This was going to be fun.

I waited until I saw her head into the shower, quickly hopping out, closing the hot tub, closing the TV cabinet, drying off, and heading inside.

Right into the shower.

Not to wash off the chemicals.

But to finally reach down, deal with the aching hard-on that I'd been suffering with since she first dropped that robe.

Yeah, this thing we had going would be fun for sure.

But it might fucking kill me in the process...Chapter NineChrisI kissed him.

I actually just... turned... and kissed him.

Like it was no big deal.

Like it wasn't completely game-changing.

That sounded dramatic, but in this case, it was true.

Because I had been certain it was something I could never have in my life.

Interest.

Connection.

Attraction.

Let alone the confidence to make the first move.

I couldn't even say what came over me in that moment.

Sure, I'd been dealing with undeniable attraction since he pulled off his shirt and pants. I'd actually spent half the movie with my thighs pressed together, unsure what else to do to calm the aching sensation there, wholly unprepared for it.

I'd been so young when I had been taken.

I hadn't had much experience with guys.

I'd been shy, and guys tended to be intimidated by my intelligence. Mix in the fact that I always felt too big compared to my tall, leggy, and completely flat-bellied counterparts, and it was a recipe for social awkwardness, and a complete lack of experience with the opposite sex.