Free Wet: Part 2 by S. Jackson Rivera Page A

her chin up and gave her a reassuring smile. His right eye winked and his mouth twitched a few times, surprising her to think he could possibly be nervous too.
    “Put your arms around my neck,” he coached.
    She took a deep breath, let it out, and snaked her arms up over his shoulders, around his neck. Both of his hands moved around her waist, and they swayed together, smoothly, back and forth. He kissed her, quick and easy, once, and then proceeded to kiss her the way she’d coached him. It made them both laugh for a second, but then it wasn’t funny anymore.
    Paul stared into her eyes, the intense blue kept her focused, and she actually didn’t mind—knowing the goal—until she realized he was only getting started.
    He kissed her again, but no longer took his time. He pulled on her, caressed her, and worked his way up to pawing. Every time, just before she reached her limit, tensed and squirmed, he slowed down, reminded her to look into his eyes. He talked to her, soothed her, giving her a chance to recover before he resumed, but there was no mistaking, she felt his growing desire pressing against her—he took pleasure in the performance.
    “This is going to be our song,” he whispered, and kissed her again, tongue first.
    “You really know how to pretend to be romantic.” She felt jittery.
    “Mechanics,” Paul corrected. “It’s not romantic, He’s just turned on. He knows what he wants and I know how to get it for him.”
    “Oh.” How could she fault him for his honesty? “Well, sorry, but it helps me to think in terms of romance.”
    “Pfft!” He paused to look at her, concern in his expression. “It’s time to make our exit, but Rhees . . .” He hesitated. “You need to be extra careful tonight once we leave here.” He kissed her again, very passionately, and he sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m—I’m worried that when we no longer have witnesses—I’ve never practiced a lot of restraint. Do you understand?”
    She nodded, but she wished he hadn’t said anything. It only made her worry more. He tightened his hold on her and buried his nose in her hair. He inhaled, kissed her again, mercilessly. He grabbed her butt with both hands and rubbed himself against her with a gratified groan.
    She gave him a bug-eyed look, letting him know she knew he was taking advantage of the situation.
    “I doubt I’ll ever get another chance to get away with anything like this again.” He bit his bottom lip and pressed against her once more before giving her a wanton wink. She gasped quietly at his shameless groping.
    “Sorry, I’m a better actor than He is. He believes in me, so when he figures out this is just pretend, he’s going to throw a tantrum.”
    It was only fair to pay him back. She rolled up on her toes, and skimmed his Adam’s apple with her teeth.
    “Mm!” she grunted, imitating what he always did when he kissed her. She watched his eyes grow wide and his mouth break into a wide, brilliant smile.
    “Don’t forget what I said.” He rested his hand on her cheek, letting it sink in before taking her hand. “Let’s go.”
    He turned to leave, but a fist to his face stopped him cold. Rhees screamed as Paul dropped to the floor. Her hands flew to her mouth in alarm and she looked to see who’d punched him. The other people on the dance floor had scattered in shock, giving Paul, Rhees, and the culprit a wide berth.
    “Dobbs!” she yelled.
    Dobbs stood over Paul, his hands fisted. “Get up! Get up now, so I can hit you again!” A scene flashed through Rhees’ frenzied mind—Paul got up, and Dobbs wound up in the hospital. She couldn’t let that happen.
    She slammed Dobbs with both hands against his chest. “What. The. Fuck. Dobbs?” Her shrill voice enunciated each word for emphasis.
    Dobbs gawked at her for a second, clearly confused. He finally pointed a finger at Paul, who still sat sprawled on the floor.
    “Why? You selfish bastard! Why couldn’t you just leave her