What She Needs (26 page)

It was after Chrissy spread her towel at the edge of the pool, sitting down to dangle her feet in the water, that Jenna arrived. And Brent’s heart nearly stopped.
Damn—hot bikini, babe.
He wished he could tell her. She looked fucking amazing. Not that the sight of her in a leopard-print bikini should get him that worked up, considering every
other
way he’d seen her. But there it was—Jenna just plain turned him on now.

As she lowered her carafe of punch onto the grass, then laid out her towel on a chair, all of Brent’s senses heightened. It wasn’t, by far, the first fantasy he’d monitored—guides sometimes watched fantasies to make sure everything went as planned—but it was probably the first fantasy he’d ever monitored with such intense, prurient interest. He was doing his job, but at the same time he was just another horny guy hoping to see some girl-on-girl action from the woman who’d been driving him to distraction the last few days.

 

 

The Grotto was everything Brent had promised in his letter and more. Well off the beaten path, it was close enough to the beach for Jenna to feel the breeze and hear the calls of seagulls, but remained so isolated that it delivered the sense of being on some remote South Pacific island, as opposed to the grounds of the Hotel Erotique.

Only one other woman had arrived and, when Jenna approached, she turned to look up from her spot by the pool. “Hi,” she said, flashing bright eyes and a friendly smile. She was extremely pretty, with long, blond, model-worthy hair.

“Hi,” Jenna said, then looked around a bit more—toward the small waterfall Brent had mentioned, tumbling from a small rocky cliff built into the verdant landscape. The pool itself wasn’t any larger than you’d find in the average backyard, but that somehow made it feel all the more like a secret utopia. Bright pink bougainvillea and other tropical flowers flourished near the waterfall and all around the area’s perimeter, and though a few palm trees dotted the soft grass, the space was sunny and bright. “This place is beautiful,” she heard herself murmur.

“I know,” the other girl said, appearing just as in awe. “I’ve been sitting here taking it all in. I’m Chrissy, by the way.” She gave her head a pretty tilt, leaving Jenna struck by how naturally vivacious she was.

“Jenna,” she introduced herself, lowering herself to the edge of her lounge chair, then bending to pour some rum punch into a plastic cup.

“Yum,” Chrissy said with a smile. “Lucky you. I just brought some water.”

Given that she hardly needed to drink a whole carafe, Jenna said, “Want some? I even have an extra cup.” The bartender at the main pool had given her two, in case one blew away in the breeze.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind. It looks delish.”

Jenna widened her eyes as she filled the other cup. “You haven’t had any erotic rum punch yet? It’s great—I can’t seem to stop drinking it and will probably be five pounds heavier by the time I get home.”

Chrissy gave her a quick perusal and said, “With pretty curves like yours, five pounds won’t hurt—you’ll still look totally hot.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said softly, flattered but—even after her experiences here—not used to having girls compliment her body in a sexual way. When she stood to pass Chrissy’s cup down to her, that’s when she noticed the other girl’s tattoo—a white and yellow daisy in the small of her back, just above her small pink bikini bottoms. She’d never seen a tattoo look at once so innocent yet sexy, and she thought it suited Chrissy well. “Nice tattoo,” she said. Though she’d never felt much one way or the other about them, this one appealed to her.

Chrissy smiled over her shoulder. “Thanks. A gift I bought myself for passing the bar.”

“You’re a lawyer?” She didn’t
look
like a lawyer. She
looked
like a swimsuit model.

Chrissy nodded easily. “Don’t let the friendly exterior fool you—I’m a tiger in the courtroom.”

“I’m impressed,” Jenna said, leaning back in her chair, and—mmm, the sun felt incredible on her skin. There
was
something special about the privacy here—even in the presence of someone she’d just met, she felt completely at ease. She stretched out, even lifting her arms up over her head.

And when she glanced back to Chrissy, she almost got the impression her new friend was taking in her body—again. “Oh, come on—I’m sure you do something equally impressive and fabulous.” Then she added, with a laugh, “You’d have to, to afford
this
place.”

“Actually,” Jenna informed her, “I won the trip in a contest.”

“Wow—lucky girl.”

“As for being impressive and fabulous, you’ll have to be the judge. I write historical biographies for a living.”

Chrissy gave her head a speculative tilt. “So you’re an author?” she asked to clarify.

Jenna nodded. “But don’t let the
occupation
fool you. I’m doing well, but I’m not living in a mansion or driving a Mercedes just yet.”

Chrissy shrugged. “Still sounds pretty fabulous.” Then she kicked up her feet, splashing lightly in the water, and leaned her head back. “Mmm, this is
so
nice.”

“Is the water warm?”

“Just right,” Chrissy assured her. Then she patted the grassy spot next to her towel. “You should join me.”

Okay, so this wasn’t going to be a
quiet
or
introspective
sort of afternoon. Jenna hadn’t really planned on chatting, but she liked Chrissy and decided it could be nice to just . . . hang out with another girl for a while. In fact, it might be enlightening to get to know another guest—she’d hardly spoken to anyone here besides employees. The guests tended to keep to themselves or the people they’d come with, and she’d actually been very glad to discover it worked that way—but given her curiosity about the sort of person who paid to come here, and that Chrissy wasn’t what she might have expected, maybe this would be interesting.

So Jenna moved her towel, smoothing it out next to Chrissy’s.

And as she sat down beside her, Chrissy said, “I just have to tell you—that’s a rockin’ bikini. Your tits look amazing in it.”

Jenna tried to ignore the blush warming her cheeks and hoped Chrissy wouldn’t see it. Maybe it made sense that girls who paid to come to the Hotel Erotique were more comfortable talking openly about bodies than she usually was—so she would try to go with the flow. “Well, thanks. I was actually admiring yours, too.” She punctuated the remark by dipping her feet in the water—the perfect temperature, as promised.

“My bikini or my tits?” Chrissy asked on a laugh.

Jenna caught her breath, but still tried to act as cool as she wanted to be. “Well, I meant your bikini, but your tits look pretty awesome, too.” She hadn’t really seen them before, but her new vantage point revealed that Chrissy possessed enviably perfect breasts—large, round, and so firm Jenna wondered if they were real. Real or not, though, they looked worthy of any men’s magazine.

In response, Chrissy gave her chest a little shimmy, making her boobs jiggle provocatively. “Glad you like ’em,” she said with another attractive smile. And for some reason, the move made Jenna aware of her
own
breasts, held snug in her Lycra top, and a surreptitious glance down revealed that her nipples were erect. Then again, they were
usually
erect these days, just as Brent had noticed earlier this week—the effect of him plus kinky sex.

“Oh, damn,” Chrissy said, snapping her fingers. “I forgot to put on sunscreen.” With that, she leaned back to reach for her beach bag, at the foot of another lounge chair just out of arm’s reach. She ended up lying nearly all the way over on her side, stretching one shapely leg across Jenna’s thighs. Jenna bit her lip uncertainly until Chrissy returned to the usual upright position, giggling. “Sorry—it was farther away than I realized.”

For some reason, Jenna made a point of not watching Chrissy apply her sunscreen, but as the scent of coconut met her nose, she couldn’t help observing from her peripheral vision: Chrissy smoothed it sensually over her arms, then her chest, including the round curves of her breasts. After doing her stomach, she rubbed more lotion across her thighs, massaging it in slowly and parting her legs to get the inner areas as well. Then she held the tube of lotion out to Jenna. “Do my back?”

If this were Shannon, it would be nothing—they’d been doing each other’s backs since high school—but with Chrissy, it felt different. As Chrissy faced away and lifted her long hair, Jenna wondered how it would feel to rub the lotion into Chrissy’s tan back as sensually as Chrissy had in front. So, with tiny butterflies fluttering through her stomach, she worked the fragrant sunscreen slowly and thoroughly into Chrissy’s skin—although she hoped it wouldn’t seem like she was . . . into her. “All done,” Jenna said, snapping the cap shut and setting the tube down between them.

Okay, so she found Chrissy attractive. She’d learned in her time here that this was all right, that it didn’t make her weird or anything. But as she’d applied the sunscreen, she’d also realized that she didn’t feel compelled to . . . go further, to fool around with her. It was liberating not to be freaked out by her light sexual response to Chrissy—yet overall, she just didn’t think she was that into girls. It had somehow been different when Brent was there—being with another girl, or more than one, had been so pleasurable because he’d wanted her to do it and it had clearly excited him.

“You didn’t put any on, either, did you?” Chrissy asked.

Jenna remained distracted by her thoughts. “Huh?”

“Your shoulders are turning pink. You need sunscreen, too.”

“Oh—thanks.” Geez, clearly she was
too
distracted if helping Chrissy lotion up hadn’t alerted her to do the same. She was usually smarter than that. “I keep forgetting the sun here is so much stronger than at home.”

“You have to stay on top of it or you’ll burn. And I bet that could really put a damper on a naughty fantasy. Here, I’ll put some on you,” Chrissy said, grabbing the tube.

Jenna offered her back, holding up her hair as well, as she said, “Good point.” She’d hate to miss her next long-awaited fantasy with Brent.

She waited patiently as Chrissy applied the lotion—with just as much slow sensuality as when she’d put it on her
own
skin. Jenna bit her lip, absorbing the smooth, deep massage of Chrissy’s fingers, and—mmm—despite herself, it
definitely
felt different than when Shannon did it.

Just enjoy it
, she advised herself, remembering Serena’s words from the dungeon and knowing Brent would tell her the same. Taking some pleasure in the sensation still didn’t mean she was into the girl thing.

So as Chrissy’s touch vibrated through her, Jenna let out a silent sigh, arching her back slightly. She became aware when Chrissy slid her fingers up under the lower strap of her top, and also when her new friend’s touch glided downward, directly against the edge of her bikini bottoms.

“Hold your hair up higher so I can do your shoulders,” Chrissy instructed, and as Jenna did so, she sensed Chrissy shifting behind her, turning more directly toward her back.

She rubbed Jenna’s shoulders just as sensuously, her fingertips curling over Jenna’s collarbone—and Jenna began to feel it in her breasts.

That was when Chrissy rose up onto her knees and extended her massaging motions down onto Jenna’s chest. “You don’t want to burn here, either,” she said as if the move were perfectly natural, and Jenna bit her lip, pulled in her breath. Until finally Chrissy’s fingers—sporting a French manicure—stretched directly down onto the bared inner curves of Jenna’s tits.

She sucked in her breath as Chrissy worked the warm lotion into her soft flesh. Oh. My. It felt good. On her breasts. And in her bikini bottoms. She could barely reply to Chrissy’s last comment, finally murmuring, “No . . . I don’t.” The words came out whispery, and her pussy tingled, yet she still remained unsure if she was into this. The physical response was certainly there and it would be easy to let herself enjoy some simple pleasure in such a sexy setting, but . . . something held her back.

Maybe because it felt simple
right now
, but she knew once things got started, it would be more complicated. There would be expectations, reciprocations. Things she wasn’t sure she’d enjoy as much as these soft, easy touches.

Just then, another woman entered the area, and when Jenna turned to look, Chrissy automatically pulled her hands away. Jenna’s heart skittered, as if they’d been caught at something.

But the new girl on the scene seemed completely unconcerned with them and looked almost frighteningly confident. The shapely, mocha-skinned woman wore a bright orange tropical-print bikini, cut very narrow and possessing much less fabric than either of theirs. She appeared to be bi-racial, and she was beautiful in a severe, almost intimidating way. Taking the lounge chair on the far side of the pool, she said in a slightly husky voice, “Hi, I’m Natasha. Do you mind if I take my top off?”

And as Jenna tried not to choke on her own saliva, Chrissy calmly replied, “No, of course not. This is the Hotel Erotique, after all.”

“Thanks,” Natasha said just as casually, reaching for the tie behind her neck.

And it was at that exact moment that Jenna saw something—oh God, it was
Brent
—in the bushes! Just his eyes, actually, beneath the brim of a baseball cap, but it was undoubtedly her sexy—and devious—guide!

She drew in her breath, her gaze locking on his. That sneak! This wasn’t a casual afternoon at the Grotto, after all—it was another fantasy! Just one she wasn’t privy to.

How dare he—not telling her! She flashed an irritated, scolding look in his direction.

But, upon moving slightly more into view, he only flicked his glance playfully back and forth between her and Chrissy a few times, then raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word,
Hot
—which left her more amused than angry, despite herself.