Step-By-Step(42)
“Sure. This place is awesome.”
She squinted from behind her sunglasses. “Try to ignore that I’m an invalid now, and everything will be fine.”
I laughed, “Stop it! You’re not an invalid. You want more water? I can get the waiter. Is it cocktail hour yet?”
Checking her cell phone, she glanced at the time. “Oh, yes! Bring on the rum. I’d love it. Wave him down, if you can.”
“I will.”
We spent hours at the pool, eating, swimming, and drinking. Stephen let me have sips of his rum and Coke, and I was buzzed all afternoon. That evening, we went to the restaurant overlooking the marina and ate seafood, while laughing and joking happily. I felt giddy every time I looked at Stephen. It dawned on me that I was developing a serious crush, and I couldn’t wait to be alone with him again.
After mom was settled, I put on a bikini and grabbed a towel.
“Where are you going,” mom asked.
“To the hot tub.”
“By yourself?” She looked worried.
I feigned indignation. “I’ll be fine. Chillax. It’s a safe resort.”
“Stephen! You gotta go with her.”
He called from the bedroom, “Yeah. Tell her I’ll be up in a sec.”
I tingled in anticipation. “See. It’s fine. I have a babysitter now.” I kissed her cheek. “See ya later.”
“Okay. Be safe. Don’t talk to strangers.”
I groaned as I left the room. Wandering around the resort at night was a treat. Lights reflected off the water in the marina, and the gentle swaying of palm trees soothed me. Laughter drifted over from the outdoor restaurant as people ate and drank. I followed the cobbled path to the pool and up several sets of stairs to where the hot tubs were located. This complex had three spas within a short proximity of each other. I tested the water at the first and found it not hot enough. The second was perfect, and I slid out of my flip-flops and stepped in, sighing with pleasure. The location allowed for a spectacular view of not only the resort and pool below, but the stars above that twinkled like pirate loot.
I wasn’t alone for long as a woman approached. I sucked in a surprised breath, recognizing her from earlier today at the pool. She had seen me giving my stepfather a blowjob. Oh, crap!
She wasn’t going to get into this hot tub, was she? As she dropped her towel and stepped out of her leather sandals, it became obvious that she was indeed getting into the hot tub.
Tanned, with long, dark hair, she smiled. “Hello.” She had an accent.
“Hi.”
“This is hot. The other one isn’t at all.”
She wasn’t French. Was she Dutch? “Yeah. This is the best one.”
“It is.”
Her breasts were full with visible nipples beneath the thin material of her bathing suit. I stared into the distance and focused on a yacht that was further out in the ocean. Its lights flickered.
“I saw you today.”
How embarrassing. “Uh, yeah.”
She smiled slightly; interest shone in her eyes. “Who were you with?”
This was none of her business. “A…friend. Just pretend you didn’t see anything, okay?”
She shrugged. “I don’t care. It looked like fun.”
I eyed her carefully, noticing the way her hair floated in the water, and how she seemed amused and yet fascinated by me, which was bizarre. I wondered where she was from?
“You have an accent. What is it?”
“German.”
“Oh.”
She leaned against the side of the hot tub, resting her thin arms on the edge. Her look was slightly predatory with a hint of mystery. “Your boyfriend is handsome.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
A delicate brow lifted. “I see. You were sitting with him this afternoon. The woman with the broken foot, is he her boyfriend?”
“It’s none of your business.”
She smiled slyly. “He’s her husband.”
I thought about getting out and going to the first hot tub. I didn’t need the Spanish inquisition from a complete stranger. “Whatever.”
“I don’t judge. I think it’s hot.”
“Goody.”
“I’m Klara.”
“Emma,” I grumbled. “Your English is really good.”
“I was an exchange student in my junior year.”
“Oh.”
She grinned and said nothing. We sat in silence for long, awkward minutes, until footsteps indicated someone was coming. I turned expecting to see Stephen, but it was a stranger in a bathrobe. He spoke to Klara in German, and she answered curtly.
When he left, she said, “That was my father.”
I nodded, not really caring.
“He’s wanting me to go to the room, but I said, no.”