“Yep, I’m just grabbing a book and trying to find my flip-flops. Have you seen them?”
She appeared in my doorway, the shoes I’d been looking for in her hand. “You let me borrow them about three months ago. They’ve been in my closet ever since. That should tell you something.”
I laughed. “Yeah, not to let you borrow anything.”
“No, it says you haven’t been to the beach in forever,” she shot back. “Is that a new suit?”
I looked down at my cobalt-blue bikini and smiled. “Yes. I bought it at the end of the season last year when everything was on sale. Is it too much?” I ran my hand over the tiny strings that formed a V on my flat stomach before joining the rest of the suit. The low-rise bottoms were not great for swimming, but I was planning on doing more sunbathing today, so the tiny suit would work fine. When I wanted to actually get in the water, I preferred my one-piece suits—to avoid any embarrassing incidents. My boobs belonged in the suit, not bouncing around for all the world to see, and bikini bottoms were sometimes hard to keep on in the water.
Maria let out a low whistle. “It’s about time you started dressing like the foxy lady you are. I love it!”
I took one last look before throwing on a sundress. Stuffing a book into my beach bag, I declared myself ready for a day at the beach doing nothing but relaxing.
“This is so overdue,” Maria said, as we made our way to one of our favorite beaches. It was one of the few places the tourists didn’t know about. It was relatively quiet, with only a handful of the locals knowing how to access the beach.
“I’ll put up the umbrella,” I told my friend, as she went about spreading out our blanket on the sandy beach. I liked the sun but wasn’t interested in getting more freckles on my face.
Once our little spot was set up, I made myself cozy on the blanket.
“I’m going to hit the water,” Maria said. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a dip first?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I have been waiting for this moment for too long. I am going to lay here, soak up some rays, and not think about anything. I am going to devote myself to worshiping the sun.”
She laughed, “Suit yourself. If you fall asleep, I cannot be responsible for what may happen.”
I didn’t bother answering. My eyes were already closed, and I was falling into a trance. It was the kind of trance that can only happen when you are on a sandy beach and hearing the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore, and feeling the warm sun kissing your skin. The umbrella was positioned to cover my face, while the rest of my body was exposed in my skimpy bikini. It felt heavenly.
Before long, it wasn’t the sun on my body that I was thinking about. In my relaxed state, my mind drifted to Ian. I want his hands on my stomach, caressing my skin, moving the fabric out of the way to allow full access to what the suit hides. I imagined him kissing me from head to toe and found my back arching as I tried to get closer to those imaginary lips.
A moan escaped my lips, and my eyes popped open. Oh my God, I was having a wet dream on the beach in the middle of the day. I glanced left and right to see if anyone noticed. My body was still tingling from the daydream. This wasn’t smart. I was supposed to give myself over to oblivion. I should have known I would think about Ian. I did the same thing in bed every night. Despite my best intentions, he was in my thoughts. When I showered or drove to school, it was always Ian on my mind.
I reached for my phone and checked to see if there were any messages. Nothing. I scanned through my contacts. His number was right there. I could text him. For what? I didn’t know, but I needed to talk to him, even if it was only via text.
“Screw it,” I mumbled and decided I may as well. What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Working hard on the lesson plan for the week?
That was innocent and basically professional, right? If someone saw the text, they couldn’t possibly read anything into it.
When my phone chirped, I quickly grabbed it. Had he actually texted me back?
Nope. Sitting here on my couch thinking about a certain someone.
My stomach did a flip-flop. Was it me? It had to be. I knew it was, which only reignited that fire I’d been trying to squelch.
I’m on the beach. Doing the same. Not good.
Are you wearing a bikini? Topless? He responded immediately. Another heat wave washed over me when I read his daring words.
New bikini.
I decided to do something very bold and took a picture of my body stretched out on the blanket. My head wasn’t in the shot. If anyone saw the picture, I could deny it was me. I sent it before I had a chance to change my mind.
I waited for his response. Maybe I had crossed the line?
You’re fucking killing me, he wrote back.