My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,70
all. But there, it’s like the human body isn’t as sexualized or something. People just go on about their day, have conversations, and it’s like their nakedness isn’t a thing. But something about what Janey is saying makes it sound like she wasn’t just topless. She was oiling up her tits like she was prepping for a porn shoot.
“And ultimately, bottomless too.”
My eyes widen to dinner plates. “Damn, girl!” I don’t know if I’m proud or horrified or some weird combination of both.
“And then I got busted.” She doesn’t sound upset about being caught naked on some corner of the island beach. In fact, she’s blushing happily like this is where the real story begins.
“By whom? I’m guessing not the police since I didn’t have to bail you out for indecent exposure,” I tease.
“I don’t even know his name. He was a blond, tanned, muscled Adonis who came out of the sea like it was his home. I felt his eyes on me and rolled over. But something about the way he looked at me . . . God, Abs . . . I wasn’t embarrassed. I felt like art he was appreciating.”
She sways her hips a bit, tracing her curves as though she has a new-found enjoyment of them.
“And then what?” I beg desperately. It sounds like Janey had almost as great a day as I did.
“He put a fresh coat of suntan oil all over me . . . all over me,” she says again with a smirk.
“Did you have sex with a stranger on the beach?” I hiss. Oops, guess that sounded a bit too judgmental because she glares at me.
“No.” Relieved, I sigh. “But I would’ve. We just didn’t have a condom, and I might be crazy and do stupid shit, but not bareback.”
“So?” There’s more to this story, I know it.
She gives a harsh look, daring me to challenge her actions. “He rubbed me off and then I used the oil to jack him off.”
“Wow,” I breathe.
“And then he kissed my forehead, walked back into the water, and disappeared beneath the surface. It was like a dream.” Her eyes have gone hazy, the smile on her lips soft and blissful.
“Are you sure it wasn’t? Maybe you just got too much sun? Had a heat-induced fantasy that seemed real? Come here and let me feel your forehead.” I hold my palm out for her to lean into.
She returns from her mental fantasy to cut her eyes at me sharply. “He was real.”
“Are you sure he didn’t drown out there then? I mean, people get taken under by riptides, right? Maybe this dream guy swam out and went . . . under?” I almost said went ‘down’ but I know Janey will take that a different way and I’m not sure if I want that much detail.
Who am I kidding? Of course I do.
“Never mind,” I tell her, despite my previous fear mongering that her McMerman might’ve been sucked to his death by the waves. “How was it?”
“Amazing.” She sighs, leaning against the doorframe.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“For real?” She looks up to the ceiling as though considering. “You know, I kinda hope I don’t. That would ruin the magic of it. As it is now, I don’t know if he’s a guest, a local, or even a real mermaid man. I can just enjoy the memory for what it is, not see him in an ugly Hawaiian print shirt and jorts or find out he’s on wife number four and has a drinking problem. Though I might find my way back to that little stretch of beach to see if I can get a repeat performance.” Her smile makes me guess that she’ll do just that. “You?”
I look to Lorenzo to check his state of awareness, but his face is relaxed, his breaths rhythmic.
“He took me to couples’ yoga.”
“Ooh, score one for Chef Boy!” Janey teases.
I nod. “It was great. Not yoga like I’m used to but sexy as hell. Except Emily was there.” I roll my eyes. “But I almost—” I look down to Lorenzo to check once more. “I almost came in the middle of class and so did he.”
Janey claps silently as she does a happy wiggle.
I wave my hand to get her attention back. “I said almost. Lorenzo said he wanted our first time to be just us. He wanted it for himself.” I fan myself with the memory of how hot that was.