Free Stranded by Noelle Stevens

naked chest and amazing biceps are within easy reach. Somehow closing my eyes makes it worse as images of his body blaze into my mind. Then the t-shirt I’m wearing floats upward and I have to keep pushing it down, which is really annoying.
    Evidently Drake notices what’s happening. Who am I kidding? He notices everything. “You could just take the t-shirt off, you know.”
    My eyes fly open, and I notice the deep dimple on his cheek as he smiles.
    “I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he adds.
    It would feel nice to not have the dumb t-shirt on in the hot water, I decide. Crossing my arms at my waist, I grab the bottom of the t-shirt and begin pulling it over my head. It’s heavy with water and difficult to drag off, but eventually I'm able to remove it.
    “Toss it here,” Drake says.
    I do as instructed and watch as he wrings it out, then tosses it neatly onto the back of a chair.
    “Impressive throw,” I say, then smile. “I guess that’s why you’re so good at snowball fights.”
    He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m good at lots of things.”
    A pulse of heat rips through me as I imagine what else he’s good at. Damn, how does he do that? Desperate to think of something else, I say, “What are we having for dinner?”
    He grins, clearly aware of what I'm doing. “I haven’t decided yet.”
    “So . . . you’re making dinner, right?”
    “If you make breakfast tomorrow.” He shoots back.
    “Okay. I can do that.”
    “That was easy.”
    My eyebrows crease. “What was easy?”
    “Getting you to agree.”
    The look on his face makes me think he’s implying some sort of double meaning, but it could be my imagination. “I don’t mind,” I finally say.
    We soak in silence for a while, but then I start feeling a little too warm. Normally in that situation I would simply sit on the edge of the jacuzzi until I felt cooler, but in this case I'm wearing my bra and panties. Yes, it’s like I'm wearing a bikini. But still, I'm not. I lift my arms out of the water and hold them above it, which helps, but it doesn’t take long for my arms to tire.
    “Are you hot?” Drake asks, evidently noticing my odd positioning.
    “Kind of.”
    “Just get out for a bit. You’ll be ready to get back in in no time.”
    I stare at him a moment, knowing he must know my predicament, but obviously not caring. Or more likely, hoping I’ll get out and expose my underthings. Finally, after my arms are too heavy to hold up any longer, I decide I’ll show him that I'm perfectly comfortable sitting in the open air in front of a virtual stranger in just my bra and panties.
    Reaching behind me, I place my hands on the edge of the jacuzzi, then I tuck my feet under me on the bench and push myself up and out of the water. Focused on what I'm doing, it isn’t until I'm sitting on the edge with my feet dangling into the water that I look at Drake.
    His eyes are completely focused on my body, and it’s clear by his face that he likes what he sees. A powerful thrumming starts between my legs as I stare at him. After another moment, his heavy-lidded eyes meet mine.
    “That feels better now, doesn’t it?” he asks, his voice husky.
    I nod, unable to speak over the moan that is trying to escape my throat.
    “Good. I like my guests to be comfortable.”
    Wanting to drag my mind away from the waves of desire rolling through me, I grasp onto his comment like it’s a life preserver in the middle of the ocean. “So I’m your guest now?”
    He smiles. “Sure. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I’d invite you to come for a stay.”
    Holy crap. Why does everything he says seem to have a double meaning? Unless I'm misinterpreting what he meant. Maybe he’s just being a good host. “Good. So then you can make dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow.”
    “If you prefer, yeah, I can do that.”
    “Now look who’s easy.” Whoops! Did I just say that? Now looks who’s throwing out double entendres.
    “I’m not as easy as you might