Page 24 of Sinful Promises

The pool was built around a gazebo that was positioned in the middle and accessible only by an arched bridge that we swam beneath. Several people were resting on the deck chairs in the gazebo, and one couple, based on their open mouths and slack positions, looked to be asleep.

Candles flickered all around the bushes and subtle notes of music emanated from speakers hidden amongst the foliage.

Maybe I’d been hit by a truck on the way here, and I actually was in heaven?

For some reason, that thought didn’t bother me.

Jonas and I half swam, half walked to the opposite end. I hadn’t been swimming in a very long time—not since Zali and I were on the cruise ship. And that wasn’t really swimming—more bobbing with cocktails in our hands. But as much as that had been great, it wasn’t a patch on how good it felt to swim naked.

With my boobs pushing up into my armpits, I kicked my legs and tried not to giggle at the thought of my ass bobbing above the water. The freedom was electrifying. I felt so, so alive.

Woo hoo.

Jonas and I nestled our backs against one of the walls so our view encompassed the length of the pool. Our vantage point overlooked the sleeping couple in the gazebo, and through the vegetation I could just see the ice plunge pool. The squeals from the girls and some of the guys who jumped in then raced to get out again confirmed just how cold it was.

Jonas floated his body up to the surface and I nearly swallowed my tongue when he provided an unobstructed view of his groin. He lowered into the water but promptly did it again, bobbing up and down in the world’s best peep show. I didn’t think he was showing off. Nobody here seemed to be doing that. It was just that nudity was not taboo.

It was so different from Australia. Public nudity was reserved for only a few beaches, and just getting to them required army-like fitness.

With my heart thumping like a battle drum, I copied Jonas. Using my hands on the edge as support, I raised my body until my breasts bobbed to the surface. They came up and spread out like a couple of custard-filled balloons. The cool air teased my nipples, and they grew harder and more prominent each time I flashed my tits. It was so much fun I had to clamp my jaw so I didn’t start giggling.

Each time Jonas floated on top, giving me a world-class cock-and-balls show, I told myself to stop peeking, but they were right in front of me. Peek-a-boo.

I mean, what’s a girl to do?

He turned toward me, rolling his groin my way, and I snapped my eyes away. “How long are you staying in Berlin?”

“Oh, um, just tonight unfortunately.”

“What? One night?”

“Yeah.” As we took turns bobbing our bits to the surface, I told Jonas all about what I did for a living, how long I’d been doing it for, and finally, how long I had left in Europe.

“That sucks. So, what’re you going to do?”

I shrugged. “No idea.”

“Really? That’s so cool. You can go anywhere.”

Cool? That was a new one. “Not anywhere in Europe.”

“No, but everywhere else—Canada, Scotland, Brazil. Spin the globe. I wish I was in your shoes.”

I frowned at him. “What’s stopping you?”

He raised his hands above the water. “Everything. Nothing. No money. You know how it is.” With a splash, his arms fell back in.

I’d had dozens of people over the years say similar things. Many said they wanted to travel the world like me, but then they’d promptly declare that it would never happen. Maybe I was a little extraordinary after all. I had made it work for me.

“Okay,” I said. “If you were me, where would you go?”

Jonas’s face lit up. “South America.”

“Wow, you didn’t even have to think about it. So why don’t you go?”

Blinking his stunning blue eyes at me, he shrugged.

I frowned at him. He was confident in so many ways, and yet he didn’t seem to have a plan for his future. Here I was thinking I was the only one with that kind of dilemma.

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