What Are Friends For?(7)

By: Lynn Lafleur


“Nope. Just did a little shopping.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

She sat on the side of the lounge next to him. “I had to get the wine.” She removed a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from her tote. “How’s this?”

“Great. I have a bottle of merlot too, so you can pick which one you want.”

“Deal.”

“Did you buy anything else?”

Erin nodded. “I decided I needed a new swimsuit.”

“I like the gold one.”

“Why?”

Bobbing his eyebrows, he playfully leered at her breasts. “It shows off your tits.”

Luke ducked when she swung the tote at him. “You’re such a man!”

“I certainly hope so.”

“You can give me your honest opinion after I change.”

“Even if I don’t like it?”

“Especially if you don’t like it.”

“Okay.”

He watched her walk toward the pool house, admiring the gentle sway of her hips in her dress. Her breasts weren’t the only thing he liked to see when she wore her swimsuit. Although average in height, her legs seemed to go on forever. She had a small birthmark behind her left knee. He’d often fantasized about running his tongue over it.

Just because she was his friend didn’t mean he never had sexual fantasies about her. Or erotic dreams.

She shut the louvered door to the pool house and closed the mini blinds so he couldn’t see her. Damn it. “I stocked the fridge in there with wine coolers for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll get one after I change. Do you want another beer?”

“I’m good for now. When do you want to eat?”

“Not for a while. Let’s swim first. I need to cool off.”

She opened the door and walked out of the pool house. Luke froze with his beer raised halfway to his mouth. Cooling off would not be an option for him, not with Erin wearing that tiny green bikini. The three little triangles barely covered her nipples and pussy. Her apple-sized breasts bulged around the sides of the cups, ready to fall into a man’s hands. Or mouth.

She turned so he saw her back. Holy shit. A tiny piece of green fabric divided her perfect ass cheeks. Luke almost swallowed his tongue. He’d never seen a woman look sexier.

His cock liked Erin’s appearance too. It gave a happy twitch inside his swimsuit.

“What do you think?” she asked, facing him again.

Luke had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Nice.”

Disappointment covered her face. “Nice? That’s all?”

Hell, no, that wasn’t all. She looked like a goddess, a siren, every man’s sexual fantasy. She looked like a woman he wanted to drag to his bed and ravish the rest of the night.

He’d always been honest with Erin. He wouldn’t stop now. “You look amazing.”

Pleasure replaced the disappointment on her face. She smiled. “Really?”

“Really.”

She glanced down at her body. “I have tan lines from my one-piece. I guess I’ll have to spend some time in the sun to even everything out.”

He’d noticed the lighter ivory of her ass cheeks bumping up against the tan part. His first thought had been how much he’d enjoy running his tongue along that line. “No time like the present to start.”

“You’re right. But I want to swim first.” She ran toward the deep end of the pool. “Race you!”

She dove into the water before Luke had a chance to react to her challenge. He quickly set down his beer bottle and followed her. Erin was a good swimmer, but he was a stronger one. He caught up to her and passed her in the shallow end.

“Cheater!” she yelled.

Grinning to himself, Luke turned and headed back with Erin about half a length behind him. He didn’t check on her progress again until he swam another two full laps. Holding onto the side of the pool, he searched for Erin. She hoisted herself out of the pool and collapsed on her back next to the waterfalls.

Luke slowly swam to where she lay. Lifting himself out of the water, he stretched out on his back beside her. “I won.”

“You always do.”

He enjoyed watching the fast rise and fall of her breasts as she gasped for breath. “So why do you keep racing me?”

“Because I keep hoping someday I’ll beat you.” She turned her head toward him. “It’s a competition thing.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

She scowled at him. “If you had any manners, you’d let me win.”

“Where would the challenge be if I let you win?”

The scowl faded from her face. “Sometimes a gal doesn’t want a challenge. Sometimes she wants a sure thing.”

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