The Fluke

8 - Luke

Jules.

She told me her name was Rebecca, and with nearly every moment since I woke up to find her gone being consumed with thoughts of Rebecca, colour me surprised to find out her name is actually Jules.

Colour me fucking stunned to find out she's Spencer's little sister.

Fuck me.

What's worse is that I can smell her on me as we walk through the property because like a sick fuck I wore the shirt she slept in without washing it. Believe me, I know how that makes me look.

Spencer is leading me down a set of grassy stone steps that lead to the "outdoor athletic coliseum" as he referred to it. This fucking guy. But all I can think about is the fact that his sister was in my bed three nights ago.

Never have I ever had an instant physical attraction that strong and I have definitely never thought this much about a woman after spending only a few hours with her. Knowing she is nearby and that of all the places I could have run into her it just happened to be on a spontaneous trip out of town? In my friend's fucking kitchen?! That is undeniably fate, right?

As though the invisible live wire that connected us the other night was suddenly lit the fuck on, my entire body seizes with awareness. Halfway down the grassy stone steps I turn back toward the guest house, my eyes seeking out any sign that she felt it too. And there she is, in the upstairs window, there one second but gone the next. Presumably she dropped to the floor when our eyes met for a brief moment but that was all I need. She'd been watching me.

After giving me the full tour of the grounds and eventually the entirety of the main house, Spencer gets dragged off by Kage for a conference call and I'm left to my own devices.

Obviously I want to hunt down that little dark haired vixen immediately, but I'll put some ice on it... for now. It was clear she was just as surprised to see me this morning. I'd even go so far as to say she looked mortified which was a bit of a head scratcher.

Although, given that she gave me a fake name I imagine she wasn't intending on things continuing beyond that night, so mortification is pretty understandable.

That thought brings a smile to my face. Sorry, baby. The universe is pulling strings in my favour over yours.

_____________________

After grabbing a quick shower and an even quicker nap, I rummage through my suitcase for my swim trunks. A dip in the pool sounds like a good plan, and planting myself between Jules and the main house sounds like a great one.

I wander out onto the pool deck, swiping a cold beer from the fridge on my way. I crack it open as I walk out and nearly drop the goddamn thing at the sight before me.

There she is, the one and only star of my dirty fantasies over the last three days, looking like a literal fucking wet dream. No pun intended.

I caught her just as she was getting out of the pool. I can't believe what I'm seeing at first. Jules is wearing the hell out of a little black bikini, which on anyone else wouldn't be anything to write home about, but this isn't so much about the little black bikini as it is about the woman wearing it.

The strings holding it up around her supple curves could oh so easily be tugged to reveal what is hiding underneath.

Damn.

It's like she had timed it deliberately. She's slowly emerging from the pool, walking up the steps, running her hands over her dark hair as the water cascades down her back and across every single inch of her skin.