Stephen’s dark eyelashes and thick brows bordered inquisitive blue eyes. The curve of his face, his strong chin, and those full lips had my attention, although I tried not to stare too obviously. My tummy began tingling up a storm, making me even more nervous and self-conscious.
“Open your legs,” I said. “I’ll swim under.”
He looked amused. “Okay. Go for it.”
I dove beneath the surface and headed for the space between his legs. I was half way through when he clamped them around me, preventing my progress. I struggled and twisted to gain my freedom.
When I came back up, I laughed, “You turd!” I went after him, splashing and pounding at the water. His back was to me and I jumped on, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my breasts to his skin. My legs went around his tummy, clamping him. “You’re my prisoner now.”
“You should let go, Emma.” He wasn’t laughing anymore.
“Why?”
He unclasped my hands from around his neck and faced me. “It’s…uh…getting late. I’m gonna pack stuff up.” He swam away and got out, water falling from his muscled perfection. His shorts clung to his bottom, outlining the firm cheeks of his ass.
“That sucks,” I muttered.
An hour later, we were ensconced in our air-conditioned hotel room, and mom was finally lucid.
“God, I drank too much.”
“Let’s order room service and chill here,” offered Stephen.
“I’m taking a shower.”
“Thanks for putting up with me, Emma.”
“Mom. Stop that. You’re no trouble.”
She groaned, taking off her hat and scratching her head. “I need a shower.”
“Take a one-legged bath, and I’ll wash your hair,” offered Stephen.
She laughed, “It’s come to that, hasn’t it?”
I left them and went to my room, where I quickly stripped and stepped into a shower that was floor to ceiling granite. I’d burned my shoulders a little, but nothing else. My chest had withstood the sun rather well, mostly because I had slathered on a ridiculous amount of sunscreen.
We ate dinner on our patio, which had a view of the marina. I stared at the yachts and wondered about the boat’s wealthy owners. They were probably captains of industry or self-made millionaires with nothing better to do than cruise the Caribbean and visit port after exciting port. I imagined they shopped and spent lavishly in the swanky stores that lined Front Street.
Mom and Stephen went to the casino on site, and I sat on the patio watching couples stroll by. The air was laced with the sweet smell of Bougainvillea and something grilling from the nearby restaurant. I was happy and relaxed and exhausted from hours in the ocean.
Later that night, after mom had gone to bed, I decided to grab some fruit from the complimentary gift basket that had been waiting for us when we had first arrived. Stephen was on the laptop in the living room, as I quietly came up behind him. Pictures of me topless filled the screen. He must have taken them today. There I was half-naked with wet hair and only bikini bottoms on. He flipped through several groups of photos, each one of my bare breasts. I had no idea he’d taken so many. What shocked me was that he’d lowered his shorts and his cock, which looked thick and formidable, jutted out, demanding attention.
I gasped.
“Holy shit!” He snapped the computer closed. “What? I…didn’t hear you.”
“It’s alright. I’m…I’ll just be outta your hair.” I sprinted to the kitchen and snatched a banana. “Good night.” I rushed to my room and closed the door, leaning against it.
Wow. My stepfather had a boner from looking at my naked photos. And, what a boner! It was huge, with little veins running up and down its length. The top was round and cleaved. Just thinking about it made my insides tingle.
A knock behind me made me jump. “What?”
“Can I talk to you?”
I opened the door. “Yeah?”
His face was slightly flushed. “Uh, look. I…don’t know how long you were standing there, but…uh…I…shit, I’m struggling.” He threaded fingers through his thick, dark hair.
I could see the faint outline of his pectoral muscles through his t-shirt. “I saw a lot.”
He closed his eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
His mouth was so full and inviting. I stared, while biting my lower lip.
“Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Uh, don’t look at me like that. You gotta stop that.”
What was he talking about? “I’m not doing anything.”
“Shit.”
His shorts thrust out before him, and he shifted and adjusted the material, but it didn’t help. His cock pushed against its confinement, demanding release. He seemed tense and confused and wound up tighter than a spool of thread. Feminine intuition told me that he wasn’t here to make sure I hadn’t seen anything I wasn’t supposed to. He was here because he wanted me. Seeing me half-naked today had turned him on.