Page 20 of The Pucking Grump

Where the fuck did she get that bikini?

I’m inches from crashing to my knees in pure worship of her. Every single thought I have ever had flees in that moment, replaced by a singular one.

I must claim her.

Now.

Images are running past in my head, ones where I push her back into the lake, follow her in, and make her mine. Or I lay her down on the grass and take her that way. Or I sit down on the folding chair, free myself from my pants, and push her head over my dick so I can watch her luscious lips close around it.

At this point, I would do anything to be close to her. Even if all I got to do was touch her without being inside her.

Just then, she turns her head. Her green eyes constrict as she takes me in. I’m aware of how much of a creep I seem right now, with my mouth hanging open and my dick obviously stretched to its full length in my pants.

I expect Faye to jump in surprise or cover herself with a towel.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she just looks at me. Boldly. As though it’s the most normal thing in the world to stand half naked in front of a guy she barely knows.

As though she anticipated—maybe even planned—this encounter.

But then again, what did I expect? She’s a performer, used to people gawking at her.

“Care to join me?” she asks coolly.

7

BIKINI REBELLION

There’s something deeply wrong with me.

My body is freezing from the coolness of the lake, as well as the fact that I’m as good as naked in front of the man I’ve been sleeping next to for the past four days. I should be catering to that, maybe apologizing and reaching for the towel that’s only a few inches to my right.

Instead, I’m standing firm and asking him to take a dip with me

My heart bangs in my chest, spreading anxiety through my body. I’m nervous, even more nervous than I was back in my hotel room when I was contemplating marrying Ben. There’s more at stake here. Nothing about Ben ever evoked this side of me, this sensual, lustful person that enjoys being looked at the way Blake is doing now.

And that’s all shades of confusing.

I’ve spent the last seven years with Ben, believing that all there is to sexuality is the two minutes we’d spend tangled together.

But with this man, everything is different. New. Exciting.

Even having to fake falling asleep beside him while all my nerves are on high alert, waiting—hoping—that he would come close enough to claim me. Fantasies flooding my head where I imagine going down on my knees and taking him in my mouth. Endlessly thinking of taunting him with my body, of watching him snap free of the control he clings to so dearly.

The past four days have been hell, him leaving me day and night to myself, so I am stuck in a strange little cabin with all of my regrets and thoughts. Maybe that’s another reason I don’t mind standing like this, talking to him. I have been alone for so long I actively crave human interaction.

But this isn’t going to be a regular conversation. It’s going to be one that will be had while Blake examines every inch of my body for his pleasure.

Somehow, I’m actually looking forward to that. Even to the fact that Blake, as stoic as he is, could take me up on my offer, get rid of his clothes, and swim with me.

My stomach buckles at the thought of seeing him naked. But I feel something else even stronger.

Empowerment.

This is kind of uplifting, me being open and going for what I want. Especially when the object of my desire looks like he’s only a few seconds from blowing.

But he surprises me.

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