I climb out of the jacuzzi and start to towel off, anticipating the nap I'm about to take on the lounge chair next to the water. My chair is under the umbrella, so while I'll still be nice and toasty from the heat of the afternoon, I'll be in the shade. No skin cancer for me, thanks. You, however, don't feel the same way. You follow suit and pull yourself out of the jacuzzi, also, and towel off. Your chair is right in the sun. I watch you spray your tanning oil on your chest and rub it in as I make myself comfy on my chaise lounge. I close my eyes, and slowly begin to drift off, and you decide to interrupt my peace.

“Do you mind rubbing this into my back?” you ask innocently, grinning. Even though I grumble and roll my eyes at you, the idea of slicking the oil across your shoulders and down your muscular back is enticing.

“Fine. Roll over,” I grind out as I get up from my comfortable shady spot. You roll over, still smiling triumphantly as I straddle the tops of your thighs, spraying the coconut scented oil on your already sun-kissed skin. I work the oil into your flesh, kneading and massaging. After a few minutes you start moaning, and I take that as my sign to hurry up. I move, and spray the backs of your legs, and rub the oil in there, before moving back to my lounge chair. I wipe my hands off on a spare towel, and get comfortable again before closing my eyes.

Not much time passes before I feel you poke me in the ribs.

“What the hell do you want now?!” I snap, not bothering to hide my irritation as I glower at you from my seat next to you.

“Oh, just wanted to let you know that you're in the sun now. Heaven forbid you ruin that perfect pale skin of yours with any color that isn't ink,” you respond with a cocky smirk playing on your lips. With a groan of frustration, I drag the table and umbrella closer to my chair, so I don't have to move away from you. Without another word, I flop back on my chair and close my eyes again.

This time, I'm actually sleeping when I hear you call my name.

“God dammit! What?! I really want to take a fucking nap!” I seethe, but you're looking at me with those startled eyes and feigned innocence.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware. But, since you're awake now, would you go inside and make me a margarita?” you ask, a smirk pulling the corners of that pouty mouth of yours up.

“Can't you make it your damn self?” I ask in annoyance.

“No, you make them so much better than I do. Please? I won't leave you alone until you do,” you say. There's that triumphant smirk again.

“Good God, you sure do know how to ruin an otherwise pleasant afternoon nap, you pain in the ass,” I growl as I push myself up off the lounge, stalking inside angrily. I retrieve the tequila, triple sec, and lime juice. However, just to get back at you, I add an additional two shots of tequila than I usually would. I thought about staying inside and going to bed, but wanted revenge on you, so, I stalked back outside with your drink.

“Enjoy,” I grumble as I hand you the drink, easing myself onto my chair for what I hope is the last time. I close my eyes and start to slow my breathing, so you think I'm sleeping. A minute later, you take the bait. You lean over to me and whisper in my ear, “Guess what?”

This time, I'm ready for you. I push you off of me with all of my might and jump on you as you land on your lounge, straddling your waist. I land a solid punch to your chest, enough to let you know I'm serious. You're all limbs, flailing wildly as you try to stop me. You were taken entirely off guard, not to mention slightly tipsy.

“What?!” I yell as I punch you in the sternum again. You've regained your composure by now, and you're fighting back. When you try to push me off of you, I hold on and pull you with me. We've landed on the cement between the jacuzzi and the pool. We're rolling on the warm cement now, fists flying, feet kicking. Your tanning oil has made us both slick, and we're wrestling for a good grip. Neither of us were able to find one, until I managed to wrap a leg around your waist and flip you over, so that I'm again straddling you. You let me pin your arms above your head, and I'm breathing hard from the exertion. You're docile, and compliant.

“I asked, guess what?” you say, and your eyes start sparkling with laughter. I have the urge to beat the laughter out of you. We've just been wrestling and you have the nerve to laugh?

“What, God dammit, what?!” I yell, my anger flaring again. You just smile.


“How the hell am I supposed to guess?! It could be anything from you want pizza for dinner tonight to you're wearing your grandma's underwear! I have no fucking clue 'what'!” I yell at you in frustration. I start to open my mouth to yell again, but you crane your neck to pull my bottom lip in between your teeth, and you bite. A delicious pain blossoms in my lip, and I groan instead.

“You're so sexy when you're angry,” you say with a laugh as you push me off of you, rolling one more time to put you on top of me. You're pinning me with your hips, and I'm glaring daggers at you. You groan quietly in appreciation as I grind my hips upward into yours.

“So, this was all to get into my fucking pants?! You could've just as – ungh!” I'm cut off mid-sentence as you lean down to bite the side of my neck, just under my ear. I push roughly at your chest, but because of the tanning oil and sweat, my hands slip right off. I try again, but you're putting up a fight. I did what anyone else would've done in this situation: I slapped you. As you reach up to rub the stinging skin at your jaw, I take the chance you've given me. I use your shock to flip us over so that I'm straggling your waist again. You arch your back and press your hips up against me, and we grind together in need, forgetting our surroundings. I lean down and crush my mouth against yours, nipping at your bottom lip. Your hands ghost down my back, lighting brushing the overly sensitized skin, and I shudder. Your hands find their way to my ass and you squeeze. I'm taken off guard, and I forget this struggle for dominance. This allows you to push me off of you again. Neither of us have realized how close to the edge of the pool we've gotten, and one last roll sends us tumbling over the edge into the chilly water. You pull me under with you, and when we resurface, we're both laughing. All anger has been forgotten, as there are more pressing matters to deal with right now. We swim toward one another, and now we're a tangle of limbs as you press your lips to mine again. One of your hands snakes up my back again and winds into my hair, right at the base of my skull, and you pull. Hard. You earn an animalistic growl, and I pull against your hand to bite you firmly on the exposed skin of your shoulder. One of my hands is dragged down over your chest and stomach, and I lose my balance just as my hand finds the waistband of your swim trunks.

“We need somewhere more stable, now,” I whisper huskily in your ear.

“Jacuzzi?” you suggest.

“I can't breathe under water, you know.”

“Why would you need.. Oh!” I smirk as realization dawns on you.

“How about the hammock?”

“You really think you have the coordination for that?” I ask.

“How about the bed?”

“No,” I shake my head, “we're too wet and greasy.”

“The shower!” you cry.

“We have a winner. Last one in goes down first!”

We look at each other for a long moment before we both scramble towards the bathroom.