Ryan
It was Wednesday, and we had officially been married for two solid weeks. In some ways it felt like two days, but in others — especially as we had been getting along for more than a week — it felt like I had known her for years. We might have actually started to find our rhythm in this weird situation we were in, and I had found myself looking forward to whatever challenges Evelyn had up her sleeve. It was an excuse to get closer to Mira, to figure out what made her tick, and it was no longer just because I wanted to get in her pants.
Tonight, we were tasked to cook a romantic meal together for dinner. It made me a little nervous since our grocery shopping hadn’t gone that well, but I loved the fact that she knew how to cook, and she discovered I wasn’t a terrible home chef either, she felt the same way. It was something we were able to bond over. There was a part of me feeling panicked that bonding was important to me, but at the same time, it came so easy between us. We had found things in common in the oddest places, and that made it exciting to continue to get to know each other even more.
“All right, chef Ryan,” Mira said, turning around in an apron and chef’s hat. “Are you up for tonight’s challenge?”
I tilted my own hat forward and smiled big. “I was born for this challenge.”
“Then let’s get this party started,” she giggled, tossing me a tomato.
I immediately went to work creating a delicious homemade sauce for the hand-rolled ravioli that Mira was making the stuffing for. We both had our strengths and our weaknesses in the kitchen, but together we were almost flawless. Where I was weak, she was strong, and vice versa. It was a perfect partnership for the task. Before long the kitchen was filled with delicious smells and my stomach was starting to rumble. She walked over and fed me a piece of bruschetta, smiling at first and then blushing as her finger touched my lips.
“That is some amazing bruschetta,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What? Did you have an Italian grandmother stuffed away in that family tree?”
“Nope,” she said, proudly. “I’m just that damn good.”
“I’m not even going to argue with you this time,” I chuckled. “You may just be that damn good in the kitchen.”
As we rolled out the dough for the ravioli, I glanced up at her, finding the spot of flour on her cheek adorable. Maybe the whole challenge was exactly what we needed. Maybe finding mutual interests and working together on those projects were what was going to make the next six months, not only bearable, but actually kind of fun to participate in. Like it or not we were stuck with each other, and that in itself brought an instant bond. We had to rely on each other to get through each and every day, and on top of that, try to make it interesting for the fans watching.
I looked over my shoulder at the cameras and realized that this was the first time in days I hadn’t thought about the cameras constantly up my ass. Maybe Evelyn was right, at least in that regard. Maybe after a while you just stopped thinking about the extra person in the room and you just did your thing. It helped open me up, and Mira helped me find my playful side.
When the meal was ready, I set the table and she plated the food, making it all kinds of artsy. There were swirls of tomato and pesto, a sprig of parsley and bruschetta perfectly placed in a symmetrical pattern around the plate. She set the food on the table and I grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cooler, opening it and filling her glass half way. She nodded, and nose in the air, pretended to try the wine.
“Mmm, yes, I think that shall do,” she said in a rich man’s voice. “What year is that? I think ‘78?”
“No, madam, this is one our specialties, aged to perfection for two entire years,” I said, imitating a fancy waiter.
“That will do,” she replied snubbing her nose and giggling.
We both laughed, and I sat down at the table, placing my napkin in my lap. The food was amazing, but the conversation was even better. We took turns telling each other silly jokes, laughing so hard I could barely swallow my food. We both drank several glasses of wine, but this time was because of the fun we were having, not just dulling our nerves and awkwardness.
“You know what I really want to try out?” she asked.
“Running the camera? I think we could get some seriously good shots of the bottom of the pool.”
Harrison shook his head and sighed.
“No,” she giggled. “The hot tub, I want to try out the hot tub.”
“Mmm,” I swallowed a bite of ravioli. “I know, me too. I’ve been eyeing the thing since we got here, but I thought it would be strange if it was just a video of me by myself in the hot tub.”
“Take a bottle of wine along and in about an hour you wouldn’t care who was watching you,” she laughed.
“It’s like being on the Truman Show, except we know everyone is watching us,” I smiled. “And after dinner they’re going to get a view of just how pasty white this mechanic really is.”
“Welcome to the club,” she replied, with a full mouth and a laugh.
When dinner was over we continued the teamwork by cleaning up the remaining mess in the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. We both headed upstairs and pulled our bathing suits out. She smiled and grabbed a towel from the closet, heading into the hallway bathroom to change. I decided to clean up before heading back out. When I finished she was already downstairs, starting the hot tub, sitting on the edge with a towel wrapped around her. She looked up at me with a sweet grin and I could feel shivers go up my spine.
I walked into the kitchen and filled our glasses with wine before joining her on the deck. She stood by the chair taking off her flip-flops and pulling her towel off, hanging it on the chair. She was so fucking hot, her tiny black bikini barely covering anything. The triangle top was snug, but her large breasts were firm underneath, showing the outline of her nipples. The bottoms were tied on each side of her hips and I couldn’t help but imagine untying them right then and there. I took a deep breath, and turned away, my cheeks flaming red. Throwing my towel over the chair, I walked over to her, handing her the glasses of wine so I could climb inside.
“Oh yeah,” I growled, sitting down in the hot water, leaning back against the side as the bubbles surrounded me. “This is definitely the life.”
“I know, right?” she smiled, handing me my glass.
I took a sip and looked up at the night sky, the moon shining brightly down at us. She followed my gaze up to the stars and sighed, leaning back and relaxing. It was a beautiful night, and even more so because of the woman sitting next to me. The sexual tension between the two of us was crazy. Finally, I reached over and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her through the water and onto my lap. She sat there for a moment smiling at me, before surprising me by turning and straddling me in the hot water.
She leaned forward, staring deep into my eyes, then pressed her lips against mine. I reached up and set my glass on the edge, bringing my hand back down into the water and wrapping it firmly around her waist. She whimpered into my mouth as she opened hers, allowing my tongue to taste the sweetness of her lips. Her body fit perfectly on top of me, and I could feel her wrapping her legs around mine.
I wanted her so bad, worse than I had ever wanted anyone in my life. She was so incredibly sexy, especially in the bubbling hot tub, her bikini wet and stuck to her skin, and her wet mound rubbing against my already rock-solid cock. I reached up and cupped my hand around her cheek. She tilted her head to the side and kissed me even deeper than before. I pushed down on her body with the hand that was around her waist, and pushed my hips upward, rubbing my hard shaft against her covered mound. She moaned softly into my mouth, making me even more aroused. Instantly, all I could think of was what she would sound like screaming in ecstasy.
We were really starting to get into it and as I reached up to untie her top she pulled back breathing heavily. My hand stopped, and I released my grip on her waist as she moved off me and backed up to the other side. To say that I was disappointed would be an understatement, but I had promised her and myself that I wouldn’t behave like an asshole again.
“You all right?” I asked her.
“Hmm?” she said, catching her breath. “Yeah, I just don’t want our first time to be in a hot tub, that’s all.”
At first, I was going to take it and let it be that, but I couldn’t, not with the taste of those sweet lips on my tongue. I gulped down the rest of my wine and smiled as I stood up. She watched as I walked up to her through the bubbling water, leaning over and kissing her lips gently.
“Then let’s get out,” I whispered, as I reached down and scooped her up out of the water and into my arms.
She giggled and squealed as I walked up the steps and out of the hot tub, not even stopping to get a towel or dry off. I didn’t want to waste the moment, not when the cameras stopped halfway down the hall and turned off. It was just the two of us, alone, able to be ourselves, and be together without worry or judgment. It was all about her and me, and our connection at that point. I wanted to fuck her brains out, sure, but I couldn’t let the first time go down like that. I was going to show her why she wanted to stay in this for six months and just how we could really make something of our time together.
She was not going to get away from me this time, not the way our bodies felt pressed together. And, based on how she was nibbling on my neck as I walked, I was pretty sure she had no plans to run away. I carried her up the stairs and down the hall, pausing only for a minute to shut the door to our bedroom. I sat her down in the cascading light from the moon and stood back, biting my lip as my eyes rolled over her voluptuous body. This was what I was waiting for.