New York, Summer, 1921 . Your new neighbor across the lake is the mysterious bachelor , Dutch. His reputation for excess and extravagant parties precede him in the prohibition era. But after an invitation to one of his soirees, you discover your...
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The path to the lake glowed silver from the moonlight. You followed it, eager to get away from the roaring revelry that was starting to make your head pound. The water appeared through the trees, calm and placid, like a thin sheet of glass. You wandered onto the dock as a small breeze stirred, rocking the boats and bringing your skin some cool relief from the sticky air.
To your left, a grand and rather ornate boat bobbed in the water. Its white paint and mahogany trim gleamed against the dark water. You wondered how many lake parties Tom hosted on that boat. How many ladies he wooed with such a sizable vessel. Surely, it wasn't the kind of boat one takes for an afternoon dip. It was a braggart's boat, built only to show the kind of engineering someone with the deepest pockets could afford. Something about it repulsed you. It was inauthentic - the kind of thing one purchases just because they could, not because they wanted it. It was shown no love, you could tell. Only things with marks and signs of wearing were really loved.
You sat down on the edge of the dock, and unlaced your shoes. After a quick glance around, you unfastened your stockings from your garter belt and slip them off as well. You swung your legs over the edge and dipped your feet into the cool water with a smile. You remembered the first time Tom took you out in a boat. Of course, it was much more humble than this beast to your left...
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"Here, you give it a try," Tom said, handing you an oar. You took it and watched how he maneuvered his into the water, careful to take note of his technique. You did the same and smiled proudly when you felt the small canoe move.
"There you go!" Tom exclaimed, equally as proud.
"You'll be captaining your own vessel yet!" he said with a bit of snark.
You took the oar and splashed him with water. It covered his entire head and was honestly much more than you intended. You winced and gave him an apologetic smile.
"Sorry," you said, but you couldn't hide the laugh that was bubbling up inside of you. Soon it spilled out of you and Tom just sat there, drenched with arms crossed, staring you down with annoyance.
"Thank you, darling." Tom sniffed, wiping an arm across his brow. You quite enjoyed him in this wet state. His clothes clung to his muscles, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're welcome," you giggled.
Tom suddenly stood and the boat rocked from his weight. You instantly grabbed the sides for support.
"Be careful!" you shouted but Tom had no intention for care. His eyes had a wicked glint to them as he precariously tilted the boat even further.
"Tom!" you screamed but the canoe capsized, spilling you into the water, gasping and fuming. Tom's laughter skipped across the river.
"You halfwit!" you yelled at him, treading water.
He swam over to you and grabbed you, pulling you to him.
"Don't fret, my love. I'll escort you to shore." he said and flashed that devilish grin at you as his hands roamed all over you beneath the surface.
You narrowed your eyes at him but found it difficult to be angry with him when he touched you like that. The water seemed to be working to your advantage, making your skirts float about you with ease. Tom wasted no time. His hands were already down your bloomers, clutching at your flesh.
You gasped at how exciting his fingers felt caressing you. They slipped and slid all over your restless skin. His lips were curled in a smug smile that called to be kissed, so you did.
He held you against his chest, kissing you in rhythm with his meandering hands. You started to shiver against him, whether from excitement or the chill of the water, you couldn't tell. Tom pulled away and looked at you.
"Let's get you warmed up," he said with a loving kiss on your forehead. You nodded and wiped your nose before following him to shore.
He took you to his quarters, a small and humble annex to the cider house that Father lent to him. You stood in the doorway, dripping on the worn, wooden floor as Tom made an effort to tidy up before letting you in. He gathered books and tossed them on the table, scooped up articles of clothing and stashed them behind the bed. The bed. His bed.
Your eyes rested on the narrow cot, fit snugly underneath the window. This is where he slept every night, where his dreams manifested. You wondered if he ever dreamed about you, about the things he wanted to do you in his bed. You certainly dreamed of him - every single night.
"Don't be shy, " he said, motioning you inside while he lit a fire in the stove.
You hugged yourself, feeling the chill of the water sinking into your bones.
Tom grabbed the blanket from the foot of his bed and wrapped it around you. You smiled gratefully at him.
"Come closer to the fire," he said and led you to the edge of the bed. You sat next to him, teeth chattering. He put an arm around you and rubbed you in an attempt to warm you faster. It helped, but just being beside him like this was enough to heat you to your core.
"I'm sorry, darling. I sometimes forget how much clothing you have to wear. You should probably rid yourself of some of those soaked layers. You could catch a cold," he said pragmatically.
You turned your head to him and rolled your eyes.
"How thoughtful of you," you jested.
Tom shrugged and stood to stoke the fire.
"I'm serious. All that wet clothing will take hours to dry. You don't want to go back to the house in that state," he said, his eyes still on the fire.
You pulled the blanket around you tighter and smirked.
"I'm beginning to think you planned all of this," you said with a smile.
He just shook his head, hands in pockets and turned to give you the most handsome smile. Oh how that smile made every ounce of you sing!
"I'm not that clever," he said with a twinkle. You thought otherwise.
"Oh, I think you are," you replied in a raspy voice. You slipped the blanket from your shoulders and watched him watching you. His eyes drifted from the crumpled blanket to your face. You took a deep and meaningful breath, careful to keep it steady.
The fire licked at his beautiful face. Hues of orange and gold danced across his features. And his eyes -they simmered with a scorching heat as they penetrated you.
You stood and unclipped your stockings from your garter belt. You slowly rolled them down and pulled them off at your toes. Tom watched you, wide-eyed, the entire time. You started to feel empowered that something so simple as removing your wet stocking could elicit such a reaction from him.
"Violet...," was all he could say. You smiled at how nervous his voice was. His perpetual confidence seemed to wane with every move you made to rid yourself of your wet garments.
You turned your back to him and cast a seductive glance over your shoulder.
"I can't reach the buttons on my own," you whispered.
The room was silent, except for the crackling of the fire. You heard him gulp before he reached for your dress.
"Careful, " you said and felt him flinch behind you, "Father had this shipped in especially from Asia."
Tom leaned in and kissed your neck before whispering in your ear.
