Dominick
The lemonade had been delicious, and it was incredibly relaxing to just sit outside with Helena and unwind. She didn't seem to have any hard feelings over the problems my idea had caused, and had even thanked me for the help. While we sipped the cold drinks, she'd looked around the yard in amazement, giggling at herself and her own lack of experience.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so good around a woman, at least one I wasn't sleeping with. Even then, it was usually more about the sex than about the chemistry between us. With Helena, everything felt different. I was enjoying my time despite my intense attraction to her, whereas usually I only spent time with a woman because I wanted to sleep with her.
With Helena, though, things just felt right. It was pure in a way that I couldn't explain, even to myself. For a while there, I'd even forgotten the sleepless nights and the intense lust and everything else.
Maybe that's why I had been such a complete and total idiot.
That sunburn would feel a lot better with some kind of ointment on it, I'd said stupidly, even going so far as to insist she let me pick some up from a nearby convenience store. It had seemed completely innocent at the time, just a friendly gesture.
At least until I was standing above her, my hands covered in lotion. As soon as I touched her, I worried that this all had been a terrible mistake. Her skin was burning hot, and not just because of the sunburn. No, it was hot because she was hot, a vision of beauty and intelligence that went far beyond my usual pickup.
Not that Helena was a pickup.
Or that there was anything usual about her.
I'd only had the best of intentions when I suggested this, but I had been deluding myself. As soon as my fingers made contact with her exposed flesh, I knew that I was in trouble. She let out a soft gasp as I touched her, a little half-moan that sent both my body and imagination into overdrive.
Serious trouble.
This is not the right direction to take my burgeoning relationship with Helena, I told myself.
I needed to keep it together, to remember just how inappropriate it would be to turn things sexual. She'd already overlooked one slip up, when she caught me staring at her un-freaking-believable chest and the clear outline of her breasts.
How much worse would it be if she looked at me now, and saw that my cock was hard despite all my attempts to will it down? It was straining hard against the confines of fabric and yearning for release. The way I was standing over her, there was no way she could miss it. If she turned around, she would only be inches away.
All I could do was hope she would keep facing forward as I continued to gently work the soothing ointment into her sun-battered skin. My hands roamed freely on her shoulders and neck, on her back and down her arms. I could feel the tension flowing out of her, muscles relaxing beneath my touch. Squirting more lotion on her body, I made my way up her spine, stopping just below her hair. Her head lolled forward with another moan that fueled my desire, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to kiss her neck.
"Good," she whispered huskily. "That's really good."
I froze, taking a moment to convince myself that the lust I'd heard in her voice was just my imagination. People made all kinds of sounds when getting a massage; it didn't mean anything.
If she turned around, she would see how hard I am, the thought echoed in my mind, now taking on a golden haze of fantasy and deranged optimism. But maybe she wouldn't mind. Maybe she would appreciate it, want to see more. Maybe she would want to explore, touching or tasting it. Maybe she would be curious what a more natural method of reproduction feels like. Maybe—the intrusive thoughts continued, until I cut them off with a firm bite to my lip.
Enough.
My relationship with Helena was too important to risk over something like this, no matter how badly I wanted it. Ali had to come first, or I'd be just as worthless as my own father.
Besides, I didn't need to sleep with Helena to enjoy her company. Just being around her was exhilarating all on its own, the way she challenged my assumptions and made me appreciate things I'd never considered. Why not spend a day just reading and relaxing in an air-conditioned library when it was hot? The idea had seemed so strange at first, but the more I thought about it the cozier and happier it sounded.
My fantasies took on a decidedly non-sexual tone, imagining an idyllic day just relaxing with books and wholesome activities. It worked, and miraculously, I was presentable again by the time I finished with the lotion.
Thank goodness.
"All done," I said, surprised that my voice still sounded so strained and tense.
Helena turned around and looked up at me in surprise. I did my best to keep my gaze up, not allowing it to drift down to the exposed tops of her impossibly round breasts. To not look between the cleft of her cleavage and imagine burying my face in that softness, or fantasize about taking them into my mouth.
I kept my eyes straight on her face.
Her very, very pink face.
Almost more pink than her shoulders and back had been.
Had she been burned so badly there, too? I couldn't remember. She was giving me a look that, in another context and from another woman, would've signaled that foreplay was over and it was time to get to the main event.
Could she…?
"Actually," she said in a quiet, husky voice, and this time I knew I wasn't imagining the desire. "You missed a few spots."
I couldn't resist anymore, and allowed myself to look down further. The view of her breasts was just as inviting as I remembered, feeding the blaze of my desire. I couldn't hide my own heavy breathing, and the lump in my throat felt massive.
"But…" I said slowly, trying to will myself to behave. Maybe she wanted more, but I knew myself well enough to know that sex would only mess things up massively. "You can reach those. I mean, them. I mean, er, there," I fumbled.
Helena gave me an awkward, embarrassed laugh.
"I didn't mean that," she said quickly, her voice high.
Of course she didn't mean that, you imbecile, I told myself harshly. Did you really think a girl that smart would want to sleep with a player like you just because you did a little lawn maintenance? You've been deluding yourself all day.
"Right. Sorry," I said. "Of course. Um, then where?"
Helena took a deep breath, and her rapid speech slowed down massively. "The dress—it uh, didn't really block much sun. Now that part of me feels better, I really notice the rest."
Oh, I thought. But she couldn't possibly—
"There's no way I can reach that far back," she explained, her voice barely a whisper now. "But, if it's not too much to ask, maybe you could?"
"How?" I asked.
Helena's eyes darted away from me, and her voice was halting as she answered. "We could go to my room, and I can lay down. Flat. On my stomach. Then it would be safe if, uh…if you, uh…if I…if the dress wasn't there."
I wanted to swallow hard, but my mouth was too dry and my throat was too tight.
"I don't know," I said, and the look of horrified embarrassment on Helena's face told me that I hadn't been misjudging anything today, she really had been flirting.
Helena apologized and stood up quickly, making to leave, but I shook my head and stepped in her way. She crashed into me, her chest pressing against mine as she sputtered apologies.
"You don't understand," I said quickly. "I don't know if I can do that without wanting more. A lot more."
"Oh," Helena said quietly.
"Like this," I said, placing my fingers below her chin. Helena's eyes were sparkling like two perfect diamonds as I bent down, my lips slowly moving towards hers.
The front door slammed hard, startling both of us. Helena yelped in surprise, and both of us quickly turned in the direction of the house.
"Moooom! You said you'd call when he got here!" called a very hyper, very enthusiastic young voice with a dash of reproach.
In truth, we didn't deserve a dash of reproach. We deserved buckets.