"Would you like me to spread some lotion on you?"
I blushed, and nodded. Twenty minutes later, I was stretched out on one of the outside chaise lounges, earbuds in, listening to Beyonce, a frozen hot pink drink next to me. My body was glistening with coconut oil, which Trevor swore was the crack cocaine of tanning products. My hair was twisted up, and had been sprayed lightly with a SPF protectant and moisturizing treatment, and I had a stack of chilled towels in a silver ice chest next to me. Trevor had wanted to put cucumbers on my eyelids, but I had drawn the line at that. Every ten minutes, misters above me sent cool mists of moistened air down to me. In total bliss I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
Trevor woke me up, shaking me gently. "Ms. Campbell." I blinked sleepily and tried to focus on his beautiful face. "I was told you have a 1pm spa appointment. It is 11:40. Would you like me to order you some lunch?" I had fully woken up by then, and nodded. Stretching, I removed my ear buds.
"Hot dog and fries, if they have it."
Trevor got a look on his face like he had eaten something bad. "A hot dog?"
I grinned at him. "Not fancy enough for you?"
His pained look answered my question. "I suppose you'll be wanting a chocolate milk to drink?"
"No smart ass, a lemonade would be great." I batted my eyes at him sweetly. "Please?"
"Your wish is my command," he said, mock bowing.
"Thank you dahling."
I decided an hour on my back was long enough and flipped over, lying on my stomach. A band had started playing poolside and I decided against the earbuds, pulling them out and undoing my bikini top. I balled it up and put it next to my chair, lying back down. Trevor reappeared, my lemonade in hand, and frowned at me.
"You need a pillow, let me get you one." He strutted over to a wicker chest and bent over, opening it. Seconds later he had a small white pillow in his hand, and he positioned it for me, fluffing it dramatically first. "It'll be about 15 minutes on your… snack," he sniffed. "I'll bring it over as soon as it is ready." I nodded, feeling the warm sun on my bare back, and already starting to doze.
I dreamed of being on a crowded street. It was hot and muggy out, and I was being bumped in all directions. I finally escaped into an oyster bar, and ordered a dozen raw ones. But the more oysters I ate, the more appeared, and I began to stress over the mounting pile. I had just called for the -
"What the hell are you doing?" The voice was loud enough to wake me, and I jolted out of my dream. I opened my eyes and saw only terrycloth white - the cushion of my chaise. The voice had been deep, and sexy, and… Brad. I rolled over and saw him, standing over me, hands on his hips, looking down on me with an expression of mock irritation. I saw his eyes wander to my bare br**sts and I raised my hands quickly, to cover them.
"What?" Is he mad that I took my top off? Or was I supposed to stay in the room? I'm not a pet puppy for God's sake!
"A hot dog?" His eyes flashed with humor but he kept his stern expression. "I'm dropping 10k an hour at the blackjack table, they are instructed to wine and dine you to subliminal bliss, and you are ordering a hot dog? and fries?" He sat next to me on the chaise lounge. I had to slide over in order to accommodate him. I still had both hands cupping my br**sts, and he reached over with one hand and traced a line on my skin, down the center of my chest. My breathing quickened. He pulled off one of my hands, then the other, leaving me completely exposed. I pulled my hands back up, looking around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. They had. One guy gave me a thumbs up. Great.
"Don't cover them up. They are beautiful. I want to see them." God, he is hard to say no to.
"No!" I hissed.
"I don't flash my tits around. Besides, they are little."
"I f**king love them. They are perfect. Let me see them Julia. Please."
I rolled my eyes and cursed him under my breath. Cursed him for being so damn irresistible, and for having the power to control my damn actions. I dropped my hands and he dropped his eyes, drinking in the sight of me, bare and exposed, in front of him. Trevor chose that moment to reappear and I blushed. Trevor didn't give me a second glance, he stared at Brad, his expression adoring. Yeah buddy, I feel your pain. "Hi Mr. De Luca," he purred. Brad nodded at him, smiled, and then focused back at me. Trevor started straightening up the cabana, all the while staring at Brad. I guess Brad's magnetism didn't limit itself to women.
Brad leaned forward and kissed me, putting his hand on my right breast and squeezing it gently.
"Brad!" I pushed him back and swatted his hand away.
"You can't grope me in public! Me being topless is bad enough!" I looked around furtively and punched his arm.
"Did I mention the amount of money I am spending? I could f**k you right here on this chair, and they wouldn't say anything." My jaw dropped, and despite my best effort, I could feel myself getting wet. He leaned down and kissed me again, keeping his hand to himself this time. He ended the kiss and rose, looking around for Trevor. Trevor practically sprinted to his side and beamed enthusiastically.
"Is her lunch ready?"
"Yes sir, they are bringing it out now. Can I bring you anything to eat?"
"No. I'm fine. Thank you."
"Oh-kay. You be sure and let me know."
Brad leaned over and lightly brushed his hand over my ni**les, making me shiver. I bit my lower lip and stared at him. He froze, his eyes flashing at me, and then he gave a slow grin. He kissed my check and then whispered in my ear. "Your body is killing me. I want to take you up to the room right now." I gave a slow smile in response and rolled over. I pretended to adjust and get comfortable on the lounge, pushing my ass up teasingly. He groaned and grabbed my ass with his hand, squeezing hard. He released his hand, and then gave it a hard slap - so hard I yelped. I lowered my ass and laid down flat, glaring at him over my shoulder. He chuckled.
"Have a nice day baby. Enjoy your damn hot dog. Order a second if you're feeling really crazy."
I growled at him through the terrycloth.
6:15pm. I sat in the spacious master bathroom, putting on makeup at the counter seat. The spa had been wonderful. I had gotten an 80-minute Swedish massage, a facial, and a Mani Pedi. I had showered at the spa, and left feeling deliriously relaxed and polished. The radio played from the bedroom, and I sang along while I blow-dried and straightened my hair.